#like i was finally gonna be able to lay up some savings! and then this happens

[rohirric-hunter]

.

[x-ghostslovie-x]

I Love You In Every Universe

Logan Howlett x Fem Reader

This is based on a song called Immortal by Reinaeiry and this quote from WandaVision "We've said goodbye before, so it stands to reason." "We'll say hello again."

Contains: angst, character death but you come back at the end, fluff at the end 🩷

Logan never thought he would actually see you again. Back in his world, you had died in his arms. Even as you were bleeding out, you were so certain that he would see you again. It would be a different you, in a different world, in a different universe, but you were so full of hope that the universe would bring you back together.

Logan didn't really believe that would ever happen but held onto the hope for you as you lay dying in his arms. He held you as close as possible with his face in your neck, taking deep breaths of your scent.

With the little effort you had, you slowly raised your hand, gently placing it on Logan's cheeks. Your lover instantly leaned into it. "Hey, Lo, it's gonna be ok. I promise."

"Nothing is ok without you bub"

"It will be, besides." Pressing your forehead against his, "we've said goodbye before, so it stands to reason."

"We'll say hello again."

"I love you Logan. In every universe I love you. You just need to find me again." You let out a soft sob as two single tear drops fell down your face. "We can be together again. And hey, who knows we might finally be able to settle down, get married, maybe have some kids."

A smile spreads across Logan's tear stained face "that sounds perfect darlin"

Logan presses his lips to your forehead as you let out your final breath. Logan's body is racked with sobs as he sits there holding onto your lifeless body for what felt like an eternity.

Logan lost the X-Men that day as well. He was too busy getting shit faced at the bar trying to numb the pain that your death has caused. He had truly lost everything. That was until Wade found him, and they saved the universe.

Now Logan is sitting around a table in Wade's apartment surrounded by people with Mary Puppins on his lap and Laura sitting next to him. He can see why this world's Logan cared about her so much. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a you in this world and if you were still alive.

Logan was snapped out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. Wade jumped up, clapping his hands excitingly, exclaiming that she was finally here. Wade flung open the door, and a very familiar smell that Logan would recognise anywhere suddenly filled his nose. As soon as Wade had stepped aside, he saw you standing there alive with the most carefree expression he had ever seen on you. He could swear his heart skipped a beat.

Wade had practically dragged you over to introduce you to him. "So this grumpy honey badger over here is"

"Logan." you spoke with a soft smile before Wade could. "Hi."

"Hey, Y/N." Logan spoke your name for the first time in years.

Meanwhile, Wade was going to explode with the amount of questions he had about this particular situation.

[imaredshirt]

Give me a Stan who thinks Fiddleford doesn't know how to throw a punch, much less defend himself in a fight with your average goon, so one morning he takes it upon himself to show the nerd a few basic jabs and hooks and maybe an uppercut or two behind the cabin, because let's face it, there's gonna be a time when Stan can't be there to take a hit for the guy or defend his nerd butt. So he's gonna teach him some stuff for his own peace of mind.

Fiddleford just kind of genially goes along with it, following Stan around the back of the cabin and watching with hands on his hips and a smile as Stan gets into position.

"This is one of the most basic punches in the world, so pay attention, 'cause I'm not gonna show you again," Stan says, knees slightly bent and fists up.

Fidds nods. "You've got my full attention, Stanley."

Stan isn't sure if he's imagining the way Fidds is eyeing him up and down, but he automatically flexes his arms a little more than he needs to. Up ahead, Ford is sitting on a tree stump and taking samples of the air or something (Stan had stopped listening to Ford's explanation once his words went from interesting to Big Science Shit that Stanley Does NOT Care About) and he's watching them with this amused grin, rolling his eyes skyward when Stan won't stop flexing and showing his arms off.

Stan ignores him and rolls his shoulders before jabbing his fists forward in a quick one-two. "There - you catch that?"

Fidds has got his arms crossed now and gives Stan a thumbs up. "Sure did!"

"See, just like this," Stan says, and shows him again despite saying earlier that he wouldn't.

He shows him a few more punches, going over each one a couple times before telling the engineer to mirror him, even getting in close to adjust the guy's scrawny arms and balled fists. He's being real professional about it and everything and doesn't understand why Ford keeps grinning and shaking his head at them, which is making him a little incensed but he stamps it down because Fidds is watching him with this nerdy, dopey smile while letting himself be maneuvered around and he's gotta learn to defend himself 'cause Stan can't stand the thought of some jerkwad wiping that smile off the nerd's face.

"See," he says near the end of the lesson, tapping his fist right against Fidds’s chin. "Do it right and your fist'll hit right here."

Fidds tilts his head a fraction at the touch. "Well alright then, seems easy enough."

"Yeah, like I said, if you do it right. Gimme your hand-" he takes Fidds’s wrist and taps the guy's balled fist against his own stubbly jaw. "Right here. You got that?"

Fidds nods. "Sure do!"

"Good." Stan drops Fidds’s wrist and gets into position again. "Then come on - lay one on me."

Fidds pulls back and blinks at him. "Come again?"

"Hit me!" Stan taps his jaw. "Right here!"

The guy suddenly looks nervous and galnces over at Ford for help. "Hit you? Stanley, I don't think-"

This is what Stan means. Fidds isn't always gonna be able to look to him or Ford to save him. He gets this weird, uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought of Fidds facing off against some asshat on his own, and that alone is enough to keep him from letting the guys off easy, if only to get rid of the weird feeling. Maybe a bit selfish but he doesn't care.

"Ah, come on, one little punch ain't gonna hurt ya, Fidds."

"I'm not worried about me," Fidds says, and then frowns when Stan barks a laugh.

"You think you're gonna hurt ME?"

Fidds is still frowning when Ford calls over in an amused, warning tone, "This is not a good idea, Stanely!"

"Just worry about your air test or whatever and leave us alone," Stan calls back. Ford shrugs and scribbles something in his journal, and when Stan turns back to Fidds, Fidds is finally getting into position.

He looks unsure, watching Stan nervously as Stan stands before him with his arms crossed.

"Hey, not bad form - you ready?"

"Well, I suppose so," Fidds says, accent coming in a little thicker than before. "Stan, if you're sure, I should probably warn ya-"

"Don't tell me nothing, just punch me!"

Fidds presses his lips into a line and throws his fist - and jabs Stan on the chin just hard enough to tilt Stan's head half an inch to the side.

"That's it?" Stan guffaws and shakes his head. "That was barely a tap!"

"I don't wanna hurt ya!" Fidds says, sounding so conflicted that Stan gets this urge to pull him into a headlock and ruffle his hair and drive the worry away.

Instead he riles him up.

"Please," he says. "Fidds, look - one of these days I'm not gonna be there to take a hit for you, and then what're you gonna do? Just let some jerk punch ya around?"

Fidds looks slightly perplexed. "Where is this all comin from? No, Stanley, I am NOT gonna just let some jerk punch me around."

"Good! So you gotta learn to defend yourself!" Fidds still looks unsure, so Stan tries a different angle. "Okay, how 'bout this - what if some jerks are beating up on me and Ford, huh? You're just gonna let em?"

Fidds looks up. "What? No, I am not!"

"You're gonna defend us?"

"Dangnabbit, Stan - of course I am!"

"Not gonna let us get our teeth kicked out?"

"What!? No!"

"Then show me!" Stan slaps a hand against his own chin. "Right here, come on! I'm some jerk who just threw your friend Stan to the ground and I'm about to kick him in the gut, what're ya gonna-"

The blow lands hard. Stan's head jerks to the side and he's thrown off balance, and he sees actual stars before his vision clears again and he realizes he's crumpled on the ground. His head swims as hands pull him around onto his back.

"Mother o pearl!" Fidds gasps. He's got his hands on Stan's face, careful touch at complete odds with the punch he'd just landed in the same place. "Are you alright? I am so sorry! I hit ya and you weren't even ready and - you just got me so riled up and I tried to tell ya and I shoulda said earlier instead o just lettin ya show me all those moves, but I just wanted to, well - goddangit, Ford, this ain't funny."

Ford's laughing as he comes up behind them, looking down at where Stan is staring kinda dazedly up at Fidds, who's kneeling by his side in the cool grass. "We did try to tell him, Fiddleford."

"Tell me what?" Stan demands. His jaw is already aching but Fidds’s hands feel kinda good so he doesn't tell him to move.

"Fiddleford was a boxing champion back back in his hometown," Ford says.

Stan blinks. "Bwuh-?"

"Not much of a champion," Fidds says with a wince, but he's blushing a bit as he goes on, "It was never anythin official, but - well, I did win more than a few matches at some backyard parties, see, and - well, people usually don't think I got any hittin power or can defend myself, but my Ma's been all too happy to teach me since I was little, and-"

The guy's rambling, and Stan quits being able to understand what he's saying half way through cause the accent is coming in thick and Ford’s chuckling and standing there looking proud of his best friend and Stan’s a little worried that he's still jarred from the hit, cause when he looks at Fidds kneeling there, one hand one Stan's chest and the other bashfully rubbing his neck while he rambles on - he's still seeing stars.

Later, while Stan sits in the living room with an bag of ice in his jaw and Fiddleford sitting next to him, still rambling about all the times he'd knocked a few guys into the mud in some backcountry hoedown get-together or whatever, Stan can lean back and relax and grin, knowing Fidds is gonna be just fine.

He can't wait to teach him wrestling.

[sunshinesteviee]

quality time - s.h.

summary: steve has some quality time with his newborn wc: 1.1k warnings: descriptions of steve's scars, dad!steve & mom!reader a/n: so i'm pretty sure this was originally a request from an anon literally forever ago, but i cannot for the life of me find the ask, i'm so so sorry! it's been a while since i've posted, so just a lil something for y'all. hope you enjoy! <3

Masterlist

“You wanna hold him again, love?” you ask your husband in a murmur, barely able to pull your gaze up from your newborn. He’s tiny and perfect, and you just can’t get enough of him, even after a couple of hours. 

Steve’s perched next to you on the bed, one strong arm around your body. His thumb traces short, gentle lines over the hill of your shoulder, nose pressing against your temple as he gazes down at your son, “Mhm, yeah, if—“

“You better not be saying ‘if it’s okay with me’, he’s your son, too, Steve. Here, you take him,” you elbow him gently, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. It’s adorable, but totally not necessary. 

His cheeks flame red as he carefully takes the bundle of blankets from you, sheepish as he mumbles, “That’s not what I was gonna say—“

“Save it, baby, I know you better than that.”

He huffs but doesn’t say anything, immediately drawn to his baby boy in his arms instead. He looks like a mini version of you, your nose and eyes that he loves so much; it makes his heart grow ten times bigger. He does have a full head of hair that’s definitely the Harrington gene, though. And maybe he has Steve’s lips, too. 

Steve pulls his arms up, pressing a kiss to his head gently before he moves towards the chair in the corner of the room that he’s claimed as his. Just as he’s about to settle into the chair, a nurse enters the room to check on everyone. She smiles at the sight of your baby boy in Steve’s arms and says, “You know, there’s a lot of benefits of doing skin-to-skin with your newborn. Especially for dad and baby. Helps to regulate baby, and is great for bonding with your baby. Wanna give it a try?”

You expect Steve to say no. Not that he doesn’t care or doesn’t want to, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him with his shirt off in public on one hand. After his time in the upside down, he’s marred with scars. Deep ones that eat into his sides and pucker his skin, that are rough and not pleasant to look at. The first time he’d gotten up the courage to take off his shirt at the pool, scars still fresh and pink, he’d gotten incredulous looks and nasty stares. He’d quickly learned that it was better to keep his clothes on to keep the questions to a minimum. He wasn’t ashamed, it was just easier that way. The only times Steve took his shirt off in public was if it was around people who knew what had happened, and even then, sometimes he didn’t want to. The scars were a reminder of all the shit they’d been through, and sometimes it was easier to pretend they didn’t exist. 

So, to say you’re surprised when Steve immediately agrees is an understatement. You watch in shock — and admiration — as Steve hands your son back to you for a moment so he can pull his shirt over his head. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him remove his shirt so quickly, even after all your years together. The bite-shaped scars, though not as prominent as they once were, are on full display, still slightly pink and raised against his tan skin. If the nurse notices, she doesn’t say anything; she only smiles, suppressing a laugh as Steve trades you his shirt for your son. 

He takes him carefully, as if your son is made of glass and could break at any moment. He handles him so delicately it makes your heart burst, and you cradle Steve’s shirt to your own chest. Steve finally sits down, placing his little boy in his lap so he can unwrap the blankets and get him out of his tiny onesie. It’s so small that it nearly makes you cry, even more so as you watch your husband lift your son back up and lay him against his chest once the onesie has been set aside. 

He pauses for a moment, not quite comfortable in the chair yet, eyes flicking to the nurse in the corner of the room as he asks, “It’s not— he’s not gonna be too cold, right?”

“Not at all! Skin to skin is actually great for regulating a baby’s body temperature. He’ll be just fine.”

Steve considers what she’s saying and then nods, finally leaning back into his chair, holding your boy to his chest, “Yeah. Okay, yeah, that’s good.” For someone who had been almost as terrified about being a dad as he was excited, he’s taking to it quickly, just like you knew he would. You knew his insecurities had more to do with his parents than his own ability to be a parent, and so far, he’s already proving himself wrong. 

The newborn scrunch is in full effect, your son’s tiny limbs tucked mostly underneath his body against Steve’s chest. He looks content, and you honestly can’t blame him — Steve’s chest is also one of your favorite places to be. Your husband looks just as content; one hand covering the entirety of your son’s back, fingers behind his head for support, the other hand on his small, diaper-covered bum to keep him in place. Steve’s eyes flutter closed after a few moments, settling back into the chair comfortably.

There’s a Polaroid camera sitting on the bedside table next to you, and you reach for it so you can take a picture. You want to remember this. Not only for the sweet moment, but also for Steve’s clear and immediate love for his little boy. The noise of the camera is a lot louder than you anticipated, and Steve cracks one eye open, sending you the best fake glare he can muster with just one eye. It’s ridiculous and it makes you laugh behind your hand, not wanting to wake your sleeping baby. You murmur a half-hearted apology as the picture prints, not really meaning it. 

Steve snorts his own laugh, his chest moving enough for your little boy to grunt quietly in protest, shifting his position against Steve. Quick to soothe, Steve pats at his tiny back gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I know, I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mama’s interrupting our quality time, huh? She had nine whole months with you, and she just has to interrupt us.” 

“Steve,” you giggle, shaking your head as you hold up the now developed picture, “I was trying to capture the moment!”

“Shhh, we’re bonding!”

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 25: Love Language

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Love Language (🌼)

Summary: Matt's love language is touch.

Warnings: Fluff, love language, not proofread.

Word Count: 687

A/n: I do believe Matt Murdock shows his love through touch a lot, but also through all his other senses. I'm just focusing on one in this fic.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon)

Matt’s love language is touch.

It’s not because he doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you—he does. He tells you before you’re even awake, before he leaves for work, during work, and before bed. He utters those three times almost more than you do because he is scared if he doesn’t you might slip away, but that is also why he touches you so gently every time he’s close to you. 

Every morning, he traces the features of your face from your temples to your chin until you wake up. He kisses your temple when you’re busy making coffee, brushes his hand over your lower back when you’re brushing your teeth, or getting dressed for the day and he just happens to have to brush past you. 

He kisses you goodbye three times, one kiss for every word in ‘I love you’. And when he comes home, he kisses you once, but he doesn’t stop for a whole minute because he just needs to taste you after having been apart from you for so long. 

You can feel his love through his fleeting touches, the way he holds you close to his chest when you can’t sleep, and how he lays his head on your chest when he’s had a rough day because you are his only reprieve from the bustling of the city. You are his saving grace. When he touches you, even just for a second, he forgets the world.

So, when he tells you, “I love you,” on his way out the door and you answer with, “I know,” you mean it in the most literal sense of the word.

You know he loves you because he never fails to show you. 

You know he loves you because he will never let you forget it. 

He might never be able to give you peace, but peace, in your opinion, is overrated. He keeps your brittle heart warm. He keeps you safe. He would die for you, that much you know.

He has proven time and time again how much you mean to him, and yet he never feels it’s quite enough. He never feels like he is enough for you. Not good enough. Not pure enough. Not easy enough or safe enough. 

“As long as I’m part of your life,” he’d said once, “you’re always gonna be in danger, and one day, I might not be able to stop you from getting hurt.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault,” you’d told him.

“No, it would. You deserve better. So much better.”

But you only took his hand in yours, intertwined your fingers, and said, “I deserve you.”

If he lost you, Matt wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Having one more person he loves die in his arms would kill him. He would fall to his knees then and beg God to take him, too. He would beg the earth to open up and take him to hell because he is sure he has sinned enough to make it straight to the fiery pits of hell. 

His sins can not be forgiven, no matter how much he prays. You know he thinks like that more often than he cares to admit, and even when you try to tell him how good he is, he refuses to listen.

Loving you is his penance. 

Telling you how much he loves you is not enough, so he has to show it some other way. He has to work to earn it, he thinks, so he does. He will love you until his heart is bleeding on the floor—until he has sacrificed his very soul to you. Only then will he be worthy of redemption.

He’s utterly broken, but you wouldn’t stick around if you didn’t think he’s worth it. You can help him. You can take his hand and tell him time and time again that he is enough, and you will do so until he finally believes you.

Whether it takes two years or two lifetimes, you don’t care. You will never tire of trying because, to you, Matt Murdock is more than enough.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[loveandleases]

What kind of picture of MC (if any) would the ROs have as their wallpaper? And what's MC's number saved as? Rn and later on in a relationship stage?

I remember answering something similar last year, but I can't find the photos from then. So...just gonna do it again.

❤️ Cam - He tends to switch it up. Sometimes he would have a candid of MC that he totally didn't take because he thought they looked good. Or, it's a photo of the two of them. For holidays, it's a holiday photo. Ugly Sweaters for Xmas, a costume for halloween. Then a very random photo of Cam wearing bunny ears in some short shorts for Easter, while MC holds the carrot. (Cam had bet MC and they lost so.) Cam has MC saved under Red, but it can change due to player choice.

But relationship Cam... relationship Cam has a photo that he is so proud to display but his desire to have MC to himself refuses to let him.

It begins just below MC's nose and cuts off at the edge of their waist. A silk sheet lays draped across their body, its delicate texture contrasting with the raw marks he has painted on their skin. Bite marks and hickeys across the parts that are visible. His hand cups their chin gently but possessively, with one finger hooked slightly under their lip, tugging it down just enough to reveal the soft flesh within. MC's lips would be agape, lips swollen and flushed.

💙 G - They claim they don't have a single photo of MC, but they actually have several. Even one from graduation when they were no longer talking. They don't have MC's current number, (yet), but if they did it would be of MC asleep while in the library studying, or curled up in their bed. They would save MC's name as their nickname.

One option for relationship stage G is: "My once and always"

G would use the graduation photo. It was bittersweet because they hadn’t been the one to make MC laugh that day. And they hadn’t stuck around long enough to notice how their expression fell when they looked for them, only to realize G was already gone. No goodbye.

G had taken the photo when no one was looking, back when they thought they’d never have the chance to see them again. Despite their hurt and stubbornness, they’d given in to the desire to remember—to hold onto what MC looked like when their face lit up, the way they could make the world fade away.

G still looked at that photo sometimes, especially on bad days. Especially after running into MC on the street. Because no matter how much they wanted to believe MC hadn’t changed... they had. And knowing they hadn’t been there to witness it, to experience it alongside them, killed a little part of G every time.

💚 Kara - It's an old photo from back when they worked together. Probably taken when Kara dragged MC to a night of drinks after a long day of work. She had talked MC into allowing her to take a photo for social media, but once she saw it she decided against it and kept it for herself. She has MC saved as "Babes or Boss" (That last one is full sarcasm for crushing stage Kara.)

She thought MC looked very free, they didn't have the expectations of work, of their family, or of Chris and their upcoming nuptials. For once they looked like someone who could finally breathe. MC was a different person when they worked, there was a quiet confidence in them back then. Not like now, and no matter how much she doesn't want to think/admit MC lost that bit of themselves after everything with Chris. So, she likes to think of MC from then, hoping to be able to see MC with that spark of confidence once more.

💛 M - They so badly want a photo of MC in a costume. But would settle for any. Relationship stage M would want a couple's photo or a still from one of the photo booths that they talked MC into going in on one of their dates. It looks so casual from an outside perspective, but in actuality M couldn't have been more nervous. They were falling all over themselves and so sure that they ruined the date. Only for a kiss at the end of the night.

Relationship stage M would want a photo of MC holding one of their books. To anyone else it's just a photo, but to M, it's so evocative and it excites them. A heavy lidded gaze full of desire... directed at the person behind the camera. At M.

M would save MC's number under "My Muse".

💜 Isaac - It would be a selfie MC sent them, when Isaac was trying their best not to care. To be as detached as possible, and yet they still saved that photo. It was like the first little sign that Isaac was growing attached, that MC was nothing like their sister. That Isaac had the capacity to care for someone after that. Though Isaac would totally be okay if it was a photo of MC in the back of their car.

Isaac would first save MC under 'not a model', a throwback to when Isaac very much thought otherwise when in Cam's studio. Relationship stage would be "My Anchor"

🖤 Ardent - 100% a photo of MC and Cupid, even before relationship stage. It would likely have been taken one of the many times MC had to bring Cupid back to him after she followed Cam home. (Cam The Cat Stealer Returns!) Now relationship stage, maybe a photo of the three of them. But if Ardent could get one of them and then including his niece... he would be like putty. That photo would be his wallpaper and screensaver. It would have been taken on one of their outings, probably to a fair when MC had to practically beg him to get on the rides. (Ardent will not admit the sound that came out of his mouth in the scare house. Nothing happened!)

I could see Ardent wanting a more sensual photo of MC, arms above their head and his hand holding their wrists. Or... probably his favorite. MC bent over his hand resting between their shoulders and their eyes closed in complete trust. Of course the photo ends before you can see their hips, or the way they're slotted together. There's a softness in MC’s expression, and in Ardent’s memory, the feeling of being in control, yet his emotions were anything but. He might have had a grip of the situation, but he didn't have one on how he felt.

MC is probably saved under "Brat" , "Trouble", or "Kitten".

[johnbrand]

What Friends Are For

"Something wrong, bro?"

“Well of course I noticed. My soles are pretty sore, man, so the longer you go without giving them any attention the stiffer they get."

“Oh, is this about your birthday again? Look, I’m sorry about not texting or coming over, I was too busy. It’s not like you were all alone.”

“You were all alone? Dang, must suck to be you. That would have never happened to me. The bros and I party hard into the night. Don’t you have like a family or something that you could’ve celebrated with?”

“Yikes, I didn’t realize you’re not in contact anymore. Yeah I kind of missed your coming out, but it couldn’t have been that bad. I wish I could’ve been there to back you up but I had an emergency, so I had to put my needs before yours. This total babe I had been flirting with for weeks finally got drunk enough to text me back. By the time morning came around, I had already dumped a load on her titties and two more right up into her–unprotected! Best part was she didn’t remember a thing, so in a few weeks she’ll be in for quite the surprise.”

“Right right, we were talking about you. So your father didn’t take it well. A few bruises too? Yeah, I got some as well, from the gym though. Been experimenting with some new weights but things got a little messy. Don’t worry though, one of my bros was spotting and able to save me from any real damage. Can’t be putting the ladies out of all this masculine perfection, am I right?” 

“Speaking of the gym, they are increasing the membership price in order to finance some new additions. Nothing much, but I'm short a few hundred bucks. Thought you could help me out, you know being that I’m your best friend and all.”

"Dude, what do you mean you 'don't know'? It’s not like I’m asking for that much! Do you even know what this friendship means for you? Or how hard it is for me to be tolerant with such a whiny faggot?”

“Yes, I know I said I would stop trying to use that word. But I did not say it was my first priority, as apparently this friendship isn’t for you. Stop being so selfish, man.”

“See, wasn’t that much easier? You can just Venmo me. In fact, you should make it a recurring payment, that way I don’t have to ask again and then we can skip this whole debacle in the future.”

“Trust me, you won’t be needing that money in the future anyway. What would you have spent it on otherwise? Probably something to stick up your butt, right?"

“Why would you need to buy new bedding? This stuff works perfectly fine. Soft, expensive, and plushy; I always love laying on it. And if anything, my funky gas has only made it more valuable. You know, other fags online buy my sweaty gear, they even beg for it. You should consider yourself lucky that I fart on your bed for free. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Yeah yeah, no more fag-talk, whatever. Now that your pity party is over, let’s get to work, huh? I’m gonna be out partying with some bros later; you wouldn’t like it, closest bros only. So how about you put those hands of yours to good use, cause these Size 14s are feeling tight! You know, I could get lucky tonight. Pfft, who am I kidding–of course I will!”

[whimsi-clown]

A New Form of Psychological Torture Discovered.

Part 2 of the Reverse Isekai Disney Villains x Modern Reader AU

(Or RIDV AU for short)

Warning: Still a whole lot of swearing and OOC

"So... What would you like to know first?"

You asked with your hands clamped together, gathering the energy of minimum wage customer service workers just for this moment.

Those people have the highest patience, and you so badly need that right now.

The rest of the villains remained silent, glancing at one another until Dr. Facilier spoke up.

"How about you start by telling us how we got here... Wherever here is..."

He spoke, leaning forward against the back of the couch, the rest of the villains nodding and muttering in agreement.

"Well, to borrow your words, Dr. Facilier... You're in my world now, not your world... And you guys are the friends on the other side that I seem to have... Accidentally summoned??"

Dr. Facilier raised a brow at that, wondering how you knew that phrase. The rest of the villains, however, either rolled their eyes or groaned in irritation.

"Yea, we know that, babes. Doesn't take a genius to figure that out. What we wanna know is how we got here."

You turned to Hades, whose flaming hair was now turning light orange at the tip, showing how quickly he was losing patience with you,

You nervously gulped at that. You're gonna have to speed this up if you want your mansion to remain intact, hoping that reason will save you from 3rd degree burns.

"Alright, alright. Look, I really don't know how you guys got here, but I can tell you what I've been doing before, and you can take away whatever from there. Is that fine with you all?"

Thankfully, most of the villains agreed with reason, turning to Maleficent, who had been silent for most of this entire exchange, for the final say.

"Very well, speak."

With the mistress of all evil's confirmation, you began summarizing the events before their unexpected arrival, from your employer's death, you moving into their mansion, the mysterious door you found, the random junk on pedestals, how you cleaned them, and then the wierd lightshow that happened after that which resulted in their arrival.

By the time you were done enumerating, you were already out of breath, panting as your mouth felt like it had just gone through a marathon.

Was this karma for all those times you didn't speak up during those group presentations?

The villains contemplated your words, processing every detail (including the ones they deemed useless and unnecessary) before Jafar finally decided to speak up.

"You mentioned having cleaned some... Random junk before our arrival, correct?"

He asked with a raised brow, the other villains turning to face you for confirmation and a silent order for you to fetch those items for them.

You nodded at that, wordlessly running back to the mysterious room to gather every item in your arms and rushing back to the living room, laying them on the coffee table.

Most of the villain's eyes lit up in recognition of some of the items, snatching them off the table and inspecting them closely.

Maleficent held onto her staff, watching as the crystal orb at the top glowed a soft green. (1st mistake, letting the tall dark fae hold onto what is the equivalent of a lethal magical weapon)

Grimhilde didn't seem too fond or attached to the mirror in her hand, but she appreciated still being able to admire herself in its fractured surface.

Hades didn't seem too attached to the item he held too, inspecting the lit torch with a raised brow.

Jafar on the other hand was all too eager with the lamp in his hold, aggressively rubbing its surface with the cloth of his wrist, only to let out an irritated huff when it did not yield the results he desired.

Captain Hook was carefully inspecting the silver hook and the iron hook he had on him with a critical eye, and after careful contemplation, he decided to trade his rusty iron hook for a clean silver one, disregarding it over his shoulder as he gleefully applied the new hook onto his arm. (2nd mistake, letting the fancy ass pirate attach a deadly weapon onto their person. At least you won't get infected with tetanus when he makes good on his promise to slice your throat)

Gaston was checking his hunting rifle for any marks or scratches on the surface, doing mock firing poses before letting out a hum of approval. (3rd mistake, does not need an explanation whatsoever. He is a big dumb man with a big gun) As he was about to set the hunting rifle down, he accidentally pulled on the trigger, causing everyone within the vicinity to flinch in surprise at the loud bang, looking up to see the large bullet hole that was made on the ceiling of your home, some debris falling off. (Case and point)

Shaking his head at Gaston's mishap, Dr. Facilier continued to shuffle the deck of tarot cards in his hands, effortlessly doing card tricks like it was second nature. (You may or may not have been momentarily entraced by the smooth and eye-catching movement)

Shan Yu, who had not said a word since the "summoning incident" stood at the far side of the room, leaning against a wall as he simply watched the scene before him, the sword now kept on a sheath that was strapped around him. (4th mistake, again, very self-explanatory. Big man who's literally and probably the only person in this room with the largest body count) Shan Yu's head turned to your direction when he felt your gaze on him, his gold eyes seeming to pierce through you, causing another unsettling chill to crawl down your spine.

You decided to quickly turn your gaze away from the ruthless hun leader and focus your sights back on the rest of the group.

Watching Scar boredly play with the lion skull like it was a sock puppet of some sorts, Ursula and Cruela already wearing the nautilus shell necklace and the exotic fur coat respectively, and finally Oogie Boogie rolling the pair of die around his pointy stub of sack he called a hand. (How the dices remained on his hand despite his lack of fingers is a mystery you will never learn the truth to)

"Great. Now that I've satiated your curiosity. I'm gonna go..."

You mumble aloud, not really caring if they heard you or not. You just wanted to escape to the kitchen right now. You were starving.

Before you could make your great escape, however, a gloved hand grabbed a hold of your shoulders.

"Now hold on just a moment darling, you haven't completely satiated our curiosities just yet..."

Cruela stated, her grip surprisingly strong for someone of her age and stature.

"She's right. We've still got one thing left to ask."

Says Ursula as she comes closer to you, a tentacle wrapping itself tightly around your leg, preventing you any chances to bail.

You begin to grow nervous as they all begin to crowd you once more.

"Uhm... And... What exactly... would that be?"

You hesitantly ask.

"You referred to us as... Disney Villains... Why?"

Grimhilde commanded, glaring down at you.

"And you best not deceive us, little one, because I'm starting to get quite... Hungry..."

Threatened Scar as he licked his tongue over his canines, eyeing you like you were gonna be his next meal.

...

Oh

...

O H

...

Oh shit.

Gods you and your big mouth, why did you have to say that before them? They obviously don't have any idea that they're works of fiction and entertainment like in Mickey's House of Mouse or Once upon a Studio.

Actually, how would they react to that?

It was never really shown how the characters coped with the idea of being created for the purpose of entertaining children.

So how would they respond to the realization that their lives had been depicted for them from the very start and that they had no actual say in the course of their stories?

...

A morbid curiosity begins to settle in your mind as a smile spreads across your cheeks, making the villains unconsciously flinch at the uneasy feeling that came with your wide and ecstatic grin as you look up at them.

"How likely are you all to suffer from an existential crisis?"

End of part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

[skzstannie]

“We’d never want you to struggle alone”

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst wc: ~2100 cw: mentions of depression and death of family members, hatred for the holidays

Hi guys! Here’s my attempt at some Christmas/holiday angst. The fluffy Part 2 is posted and linked at the bottom of this post!

Feedback and likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! I haven't got the chance to interact with too many people on here yet, so reach out if you'd like!

Happy scrolling!

"Hey guys, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed. Chan Oppa, I'm gonna go lay down in your room until everyone's ready to go back to our dorm," you wave off their comments asking you to stay with them and make your way to the leader's bedroom.

It's December 20th, and the guys are all gathered around the television in the 3Racha/Hyunjin dorm, binge watching Christmas movies. During a normal year, you'd all be at your own homes with your families, cozying up to the fireplaces and drinking hot chocolate with your siblings. However, this was no normal year, and your comeback ran too close to the holidays, not allowing you nor the boys to go home for Christmas. Not that you particularly minded; you hated the holidays.

You imagine what you'd be doing at home right now, no doubt curled up in your bed with an exciting romance novel, listening to some dark academia playlist you'd found on YouTube.

But you're not home, you're stuck here with a bunch of Christmas-crazed dorks who have spent the last few weeks decorating your dorms full of all things Santa Claus. You've been managing to sneak away whenever any holiday-esque activities are taking place. You've not told them of your hatred towards the holidays, and you're not really planning to, either, not wanting to be the reason their fun-filled nights are ruined; they're already sad enough about not being able to head home for the holidays, the last thing you want to do is be a scrooge. So, you’ve resorted to humbly excusing yourself, busying yourself with your own activities when the occasion arises.

As you walk into Chan's room, you take notice of all the little trees he has decorating his room. Cute. You pick up the picture of his family he has resting on his nightstand beside his bed. You stare at his mom, dad, siblings, and grandparents smiling faces, feeling the familiarly unavoidable pit in your stomach form.

Your parents and one set of your grandparents passed away in a car wreck about five years ago, before you debuted with the guys. Your other grandparents, your mother's parents, passed away before you were born, never getting the opportunity to meet them. So, that left just you and your brother. Your brother, being a few years older than you, started his own family the summer after your parents passed. He has a beautiful wife and two children now, one boy and one girl. They got right to baby-making after they got married, so excited to start a family of their own. Unfortunately, that family never included you. You only know of their children because you’re mutuals with your sister-in-law on social media.

Your brother essentially ghosted you after his first child was born. You two were never the closest sibling duo, but you never expected him to completely drop you and ignore your existence. But he did, and that's just something you have learned to live with.

You were not in a healthy place after all this happened. You had no one to go to when your heart was breaking, grieving the loss of both your dead and alive family members. You put all your focus into the trainee program, all your sadness and anger towards the world into your dance and song. Chan eventually found you on that one fateful day that you deemed saved your life. You were at the lowest of your low, and you thought you had finally reached your breaking point, but then walked in Christopher Bang Chan, all smiles and laughter. He recruited you to be in his group as one of the first, right after Han. From then on, you had another reason to keep going, to keep fighting.

You've never told the guys this. You have always been a more reserved member, keeping all of your personal life out of the spotlight. While the boys never heard you talk much about your family, really only knowing you have a brother, they always thought that, when you went home for the holidays, you went home to a nice big house filled with love. They thought when you walked in the doors to your childhood home, you were welcomed in by your parents with opened arms, beckoning you in. They thought you spent your Christmas mornings opening nicely wrapped presents, followed by a home-cooked breakfast that'd be shared amongst your family.

They didn't know of the single bedroom apartment you called yours. They didn't know of the bareness that captured your living room, baren of all things Christmas and the lack of Christmas cookies and presents on Christmas Day. They didn't know you've always spent your holidays alone.

Honestly, you were completely fine with their assumptions. You didn't need nor want their pity. Your family was still an incredibly sensitive topic to you. Before their passing, you were so very close. You'd spent every holiday together, enjoying your time as a family, doing all the cliche things. You'd even gone caroling a few times, walking around your childhood neighborhood singing the classic Christmas songs off-key to your friendly neighbors.

Afraid you'd spiral, leading you right back to how you'd been before Chan found you, you never brought it up, and the boys never pushed you to talk about your family. They figured you were normal with a mom, dad, and a loving brother-so what's to talk about?

The holidays have never felt the same; you knew they wouldn't. So why try? Why go through the effort of making yourself a nice Christmas dinner, attending church on Christmas eve and waking up early Christmas morning, when you knew your parents wouldn't be there to greet you. When you knew your grandmother wouldn't be there to give you the biggest hug she could muster in her old age. When your grandfather wouldn't be there to give you a hearty pat on the back, his only true form of physical affection you'd ever experienced in all your years with him.

A quiet knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and in walks Felix with a glass of milk in hand. You quickly set down the picture frame you didn't realize you were still holding and give him a warm smile.

"Hey, what's up?" you ask him, taking the glass from him and sipping on the cold beverage.

"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright. You've been pretty distant for a couple weeks now. Is everything ok?"

You're a little caught off guard, this being the first time anyone's noticed your pulling back since the beginning of December. You honesty didn't even realize anyone was paying attention to you, all of them too caught up in the festive activities and excitement of the season.

"Yea, I mean, I'm fine. Just a bit of seasonal depression," you write off his concerns.

"I didn't know you had that," Felix ponders his thoughts for a minute, giving you a loving look. "Is there anything I can do to help? Have you always had seasonal depression?"

While looking into Felix's warm, brown eyes, you decide that keeping all these things from them all these years has been unfair. They're never afraid of sharing their personal struggles with you. You think back to all the times Han's came to you with anxiety, and how you've wanted nothing more than to take away all his worry and pain. How Seungmin's came to you with his insecurities, and you always hyping him up, calling him the most beautiful boy. If any of them had kept their struggling to themselves, it'd crush you. How dare they feel like they couldn't come to you? Why would they want to struggle alone?

You realize that these feelings are most definitely reciprocated by the guys. Now, feeling vulnerable after being left alone with your thoughts for so long, you have the dire urge to come clean about your family.

"Actually Felix, I've been struggling with this for quite some time now. Can you, maybe just, listen? I've never talked to anyone about this, but I want to now. I want you guys to know," you fiddle with your hands, sliding one of your rings on and off your finger.

"Of course! You can always talk to me. Go ahead, I'm listening." He grabs your hand, halting your fidgeting. You look up at him, take a deep breath, and let it all out. Everything you've been holding onto these last few years. It probably sounds like word vomit, all your feelings and hardships falling out of your mouth at lightning speed. You finish your rambling, and you finally have the courage to look up at his face again.

He's crying. Equipped with all the theatrics, the wobbly lip and rosy cheeks. You made Felix cry with all your problems. You reach up to his cheek, wiping a few of his falling tears.

"Ok, I think I'm done," you freeze as Felix also brings his index finger up to your cheek. You flinch when he pulls away, seeing the dampness of it.

You're crying, too. You didn't even realize. I mean, it makes sense. You just trauma dumped all of your troubles onto Felix, the world's most renowned empath, of course you'd be crying.

You guys sit in silence for a minute, before Felix's whimpers become audible. He's so visibly distraught, and your heart breaks even more just at the mere sight of him.

He launches himself at you, clinging to you so tightly you think your ribs may crack. He tackles you back onto the bed, resting on top of you.

"Why did you never tell us this?" his sobs wreck through his body, his arms trembling around you, "We could've helped you."

"I was scared," you wriggle one of your arms free of his embrace, using it to affectionately run your hand through his hair. Your sobs join together as one, both of you a mess. "I was scared you guys would pity me, or look at me less. I was scared that I'd spiral again if I talked about it."

"Well, we're here now, Jagiya." He sits up after a few minutes. His cries have quieted, and so have yours. "We aren't going to let you continue going through this alone, ya know. We are one, and if one of us is hurting, we're all hurting. Please don't keep things like this from us anymore." He begs, standing from the bed. He grabs your hand and pulls you up, making his way towards the door.

"Where are we going?" your voice shakes and you pull away from Felix, standing in the middle of Chan's room. You wrap your arms around your middle, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

"You know we have to tell the rest of them. They deserve to know, too."

"Felix, I don't think I can tell the story again. Once was enough for a lifetime."

"OK, do you feel comfortable with me telling them? I'll tell them exactly what you told me, no more, no less, ok?"

You frantically nod your head, grateful for Felix's suggestion.

He blows you a playful kiss, no doubt trying to make you feel better, and he leaves to go to the living room. You take your seat back down on the side of the bed and wait patiently for Felix to finish.

You don't hear much for the next few minutes, but you're startled by the swinging open of the door, the handle cracking against Chan's poor wall. Han stands there, a dazed look on his face. His glassy eyes meet yours, and you shriek when he takes off, leaping onto the bed onto your small frame. He wraps you up in a big hug, squeezing the life out of you.

"We love you, and we'd never want you to struggle alone. We're in this life together."

One by one, the rest of the guys make their way into the room onto the bed. We're haphazardly thrown into a cuddle pile of sorts. A cuddle pile filled with the love and adoration you've been missing during the holidays.

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

Part 2

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Arkham!Two Face x Fem!Reader word count: 750 a/n: oh what i would not give to sit down on harvey's lap and adjust myself around him, it might cure me cw: semi-public sex, covert sex in front of others, piv, kinda cockwarming 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

You shuffled yourself on Harvey's lap, finding your balance as his hands curved around your hips and smoothed over your skirt, flattening the fabric against your sides and your thighs. Every movement you made had it riding up, threatening to expose you, and him, as he spoke to his staff.

In front of his desk, four men stood listening to his instructions, Harvey laying out their tasks for the evening, the plans for the heist, one simple enough that he wouldn't have to along. He was far too busy, with you obviously. And his men nodded, understanding, concentrating, taking everything in as they stood nervously in front of him.

Behind the desk, you were seated on his lap, legs on either side of his thighs. To most people, it would have seemed like a statement, of putting his love and affection on display, of showing you off. It could be read as a weakness, one that he didn't care about, letting everyone know how deeply he adored you, that he needed you with him, next to him, on him, at any given moment.

In truth, it was a game. A dirty little secret. One he enjoyed pushing you to the edge with.

You had to keep quiet, his status depended on him being taken seriously.

So you couldn't make a noise, not even as his cock twitched inside of you. His thick, stiff length throbbing against your walls as he subtly shifted his hips, wiggling you around, caressing the sides of your cunt as his fingers traced over the skin of your thighs.

No one knew. No one could see. You hoped no one could tell. But you understood the excitement that Harvey found in peeling off your panties just before calling his men through the door, pressing them to his face as he inhaled, then stuffing them into the front pocket of his suit jacket, a little bit of the fabric, lacy or silk or frilled, poking out as a hint to your secretive, but very public, activities.

"Where do you want us to go afterwards, boss? The safe house is still filled with the trucks from last night's take. We ain't been able to unload it yet."

"Fuck."

Harvey's whole body reacted to the news, the jam that meant he'd have to rethink everything. You let out a whimper as he moved, jutting his hips up, the tip of his cock deeper in you than before, thudding into your g-spot with little care. Luckily, you had bit down on your lip, stifling some of the sound. But not enough that it was entirely unnoticeable. As the men in the room began to look at the floor, uncertain of what they'd heard and desperately trying to pretend they hadn't heard anything at all, Harvey saved everyone the embarrassment and told them to leave.

But as relief set in for you, he spoke once more.

"Don't go anywhere though. Stay right outside that door. I just have to do some thinking... clear my head. Then I'll tell you what we're gonna do."

They got to leave, but you didn't. And neither would you have wanted to. It was your job, not to sit there and look pretty, but to give him something to squeeze, to hold, to take his stress out on.

From behind you, fingers trailing along your neck, Harvey's hand found your cheek, his thumb catching your bottom lip and pulling it down, a low growl emanating from his throat when you whined, a pleading mewl for him to keep going. Finally, after an hour of sitting on his lap, his cock soaking inside you as your arousal spread over his pants, he was finally giving you a little more.

Leaning your head back, he caught you in a clumsy kiss, his lips only reaching the corner of your mouth, tongue prodding out either way to lap at your skin, his free hand gripping your waist as he began to roll his hips and arch his back, pushing his cock into you.

As the friction of his length stroking against your walls soothed him, Harvey started to grunt, aggressive sounds harmonising with the soft moans and words of praise he spoke to you, all of them softening, silenced as your fingers fell onto his lips.

“Harvey… they’re just outside. They’ll hear…”

“As if they didn’t know anyway.”

You were sure they hadn’t, but it was impossible to argue with him. Especially when you were unable to form any words other than ‘please’ and ‘more’.

[komoboko]

1-800-BINDING VOW

𖦹 husband!nanami kento x gn!reader

𖦹 my petition to the jjk community to let me start writing also break post bcs next post is gonna be HEAVY angst back to back LOL

husband!nanami who can’t help but linger and stay in bed with you for a few more minutes instead of getting ready for work. Needing to bask in your presence a little longer.

husband!nanami who can’t leave the house without giving you a goodbye kiss. He enjoys when you return it but on days where he leaves extra early he’s content with waiting on you to return his kiss later on.

husband!nanami who gets so bored with his boring office job that he ends up loosing track thinking about you. His mind wanders to things you’d like for him to do, places he could take you, what you would like for dinner tonight. He has to stop himself so he can get his work done and leave faster.

husband!nanami who always text you or tries to call you during his lunch break. He likes to pop in and see how you’re doing and make sure you’re ok. Always telling you he’ll be home soon and to not miss him to much. He always tells you it‘s just to say hi but you think it’s to help him push through the day.

husband!nanami who always uses you as an excuse to get out of any work events or after hour activities. “Sorry, tonight reserved for my partner.” , “Unfortunately i cannot join you. I need to get home to make dinner for my partner.” , “Sorry, my partner needs me.” The list can go on, anybody who works with him may get to know you without even meeting you because of nanami.

husband!nanami who hates having to stretch out his days whenever he has to do anything for jujutsu tech. As much as he doesn’t like doing it, it brings him some peace of mind knowing the curse he’s exorcising cannot harm you or anybody else.

husband!nanami who tends to talk about you around some of the students in jujutsu tech more than he realizes. Just like his coworkers they to learn a lot about you whether they have met you or not. Some of them start looking up to you as another guardian figure the same way they look up to nanami.

husband!nanami who on his way home gets distracted and ends up buying you flowers. Using them almost as an apology for his long day away from you and also to reassure you once again that he loves and cherishes you. He always likes to buy you tulips but on other occasions he’ll buy you roses or daises as well.

husband!nanami who can’t be happier once he makes it back home. Being able to lean back into your arms once again. He feels his shoulders drop down as his body finally relaxes, he feels at peace being in the comfort of your shared home finally back home to you. Who he’s been longing to see ever since he stepped out the door.

husband!nanami who holds you close once night finally falls and your both laying in bed, sleep about to fall upon the both of you. His arms wrapping around you in a comfortable but firm hold. Even when you are asleep he wants you to know he’s there for you, that he’s always going to be there for you.

husband!nanami who’s been saving up money for both of you to move to Malaysia. To finally escape the busy city life, the dangerous sorcerer life to somewhere peaceful. A place where both you and him can be together without anymore pain or grief to try and approach the two of you. A place where he can love you in peace.

husband!nanami who adores you so much and will make due with his office job and sorcerer life so that you will be happy.

[ruewrote]

𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠.

PAIRING: chloe price x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: you by petit biscuit WORD COUNT: 635

navigation | ask | life is strange masterlist

you could hear chloe approaching before you saw her. the crunch of boots on gravel and the unmistakable sound of her humming some tune under her breath. you smirked to yourself, whole body shaking with excitement, hardly being able to contain yourself as you wait in front of the gleaming new truck, parked on the edge of the junkyard.

when chloe finally appeared, her brows knitted in suspicion. “okay, you’ve officially got me curious. what are we doing here?”

“patience, price,” you said, grinning. “i’ve got something for you, but i’m not gonna let you spoil it before it’s time.”

you stepped toward her, hands behind your back. “but first, i need you to trust me.”

she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “oh? and how do i know you’re not gonna lead me into a trap?”

you laughed softly, stepping closer until you were right in front of her. “you’ll just have to take the risk.”

before she could protest, you gently reached up and placed your hands over her eyes, guiding her forward. “no peeking. just walk with me.”

chloe let out an exaggerated sigh, but you could hear the excitement in her voice. “this better be good.”

you led her carefully through the maze of scrap cars and rusted metal, feeling her hands grip your arm as she relied on you to navigate. each step brought you closer to the surprise.

“okay, we’re almost there,” you whispered, feeling her body tense slightly with anticipation.

“ready?”

she nodded, her breath catching. “yeah, i think so. lay it on me.”

you removed your hands from her eyes, stepping back as she blinked into the fading sunlight. the moment her gaze landed on the sleek, new truck parked in front of her, you could see the disbelief wash over her face.

“dude…no fucking way,” she whispered, eyes wide. “is this…?”

“yours,” you said with a grin, watching her reaction carefully. “happy birthday, chloe.”

she froze for a moment, staring at the truck like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. her hand reached out, fingertips grazing the hood.

“holy shit,” she muttered under her breath. “this is… this is seriously mine?”

“seriously yours,” you confirmed, leaning against the truck. “i’ve been working for months to save up for it. you’ve been through enough with that old deathtrap. i figured you deserve something better.”

chloe’s eyes widened even more and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. she stared at the truck, then back at you, her expression shifting from disbelief to something deeper, something overwhelmed. “you…you did all this? for me?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “yeah. every extra hour, every side job, it was all worth it to see you with something that’s actually reliable. something that feels like you.”

for a second, she just stood there, processing the fact that you’d gone through all that for her. her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “no one’s ever done something like this for me before. i don’t even know what to say…”

she looked at you, eyes filled with gratitude, something raw and real. without warning, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close, like she didn’t want to let go.

“you didn’t have to do this,” she murmured, her voice low and a little shaky. “i seriously don’t deserve this…”

you smiled, resting your chin on her shoulder. “i wanted to. you deserve it more than you know.”

she stepped back, wiping at her eyes with a quick, embarrassed laugh. “okay, okay. enough mushy shit. let’s take this beauty for a spin.”

you watched as she hopped into the driver’s seat, her usual bravado returning as she revved the engine. the smile on her face as she looked back at you,

 that's what made it all worth it.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[puffyphantom-v2]

I've really been wanting to clean/finish this one, but the writing gods have forsaken me and left me without guidance on how to proceed 😔

Rated:

Danny dug his numb fingers into the plush blanket wrapped around him, scooting across the expensive Persian rug to sit closer to the open fireplace. Even if he was able to feel the warmth emanating from the flames, it wasn’t nearly enough to calm his annoyingly persistent shivering. “So, b-basically, you’re saying that I have ice p-powers?”

“That would be an adequate summary, yes,” Vlad answered from where he was standing some feet away, turning a page from the large purple book he was cradling in one arm. “I’ve learned of a peculiar bunch that reside in the Ghost Zone who are apparently quite knowledgeable in the subject. Though we have no choice but to wait before we can go and make our inquiries. My ghost portal won’t be up and running again until tomorrow.”

“Right. Just m-my luck.”

“It’s unfortunate that your father’s portal is also out of commission at the moment.” Vlad shut the book and sighed. “Let this be a lesson, little badger. Never ignore the responsibility of changing out the Ecto-filtrator,” he said as he walked to the nearby bookshelf and slid the book back into place.

Danny scoffed. “You’re one to talk. Remind me again why your portal needed to be f-f-fixed?”

Vlad turned around as he tsked with a condescending wave of his finger. “Let’s not change the subject, now.”

“Hmph.” Danny shifted so that he could sit with his arms wrapped around his knees. “What else is there to say anyway? Besides the f-fact that I’m apparently going through g-g-ghost p-puberty.” He frowned. As if teenage puberty wasn’t enough. And just when he’d thought finally gotten ahold of all his latent powers, too.

Even worse, why did it have to be ice of all things? It reminded him of winter, which reminded him of Christmas—plus everything else relating to that awful holiday. And that was the last thing he wanted on his mind when it was the middle of summer.

“Luckily for you, if this really is what I think it is, then this ‘ghost puberty’ phase shouldn’t be nearly as much trouble,” Vlad said. “For now, you only need to put up with your symptoms until the portal is ready.”

Danny shot Vlad a look. “Easier s-said than done.” He extended his arms with his palms facing the fireplace, unable to hold back a violent shudder as he did so. “I can’t even tell if any of this is working. It’s like my body isn’t able to retain any heat. I’m almost tempted to throw myself in the fire and see if that does anything.”

“I’d rather you didn’t. Returning your charred remains to your parents isn’t exactly on my bucket list.”

“Good to know.”

Vlad hummed, remaining silent for a moment afterwards. “Maybe I can be of some help. I have an idea.”

“I’d love to hear it,” Danny mumbled.

“Phase your clothes off and lay on your back.”

“Huh?” Danny whipped head around, staring wide-eyed at Vlad as he watched him get on his knees beside him. Even with the cold cutting off his blood flow, he had no doubt that his cheeks had turned a faint shade of red. “Uh. I’m not sure t-that’s gonna help. Well, I mean, it might. But, um—”

Vlad interrupted with a chuckle. “Trust me, dear boy, it’s nothing like that,” he said as he rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.

Still wary, Danny looked down at Vlad’s hands as he set them on his thighs before looking back up to meet his gentle gaze. His intention to help appeared genuine enough. And at this point Danny welcomed anything that could stop him from possibly freezing over.

He followed Vlad’s instructions, taking the blanket and laying it flat on the rug. Then, he phased his pajamas off, opting to keep his boxers on for the sake of saving at least some decency. His body immediately noticed the lack of clothes. He couldn’t stop his teeth from chattering or himself from shivering. “Is t-t-this really n-necessary? Seems c-counterproductive,” he struggled to say as he laid face up on the blanket and wrapped his arms around himself.

Vlad smiled, shifting forward to remove the space between them. He remained on his knees with his legs parallel to Danny’s body, sitting so close that they were touching. “Very much necessary,” he answered, gently prying Danny’s arms away from himself and guiding them to his sides in a silent demand to keep them there.

Danny let out another shudder as the cold continued to nip at his skin, and he wondered if he should’ve listened to Vlad after all. His skepticism doubled when Vlad placed his large hands on his chest, palms flat against him. Danny peered up at him. “H-hey, you s-said—”

“Shh,” Vlad hushed.

Danny was about to protest again when he was ultimately silenced by his surprise from a strange but familiar sensation. His wide eyes shifted back down to Vlad’s hands.

“Feeling less like you just walked out of a blizzard?” Vlad asked.

“Yeah.” Danny kept his eyes on Vlad’s hands, feeling the cold within him quickly dissipate as a pleasant warmth bloomed from the center of his chest. “What is this? What’re you doing?” he asked, looking up at Vlad.

“Nothing, really. I’m simply using my unique ability to your advantage.”

“Huh?”

“Do you recall our conversation from earlier?”

Danny thought for a moment. “The one about your fire powers?”

“Precisely.”

“So, are you saying you’re using your fire powers to… warm me up?”

“Hm, your poor grades have given me the wrong impression of you. Looks like you’re not as dull-witted as I’d thought,” Vlad taunted with a smile. “But, yes, you are correct.”

Danny held his tongue, tempted to push Vlad away with a little help from his own powers. If only he wasn’t doing such a great job at keeping him warm. He looked back down at Vlad’s hands together with his near-naked form. “Weird. Using your powers for something like this, I mean. But I guess that explains why I needed to take my clothes off. It works better with direct contact, huh?”

“Oh, no. You didn’t need to be bare for this.”

Danny gave Vlad a deadpanned look.

“What? If I’m going to be sitting here, then I at least deserve something nice to look at, don’t you think?”

“Perverted old man,” Danny muttered, shifting slightly to get a little more comfortable—even if being half naked with two large hands on him made that a bit hard to do. “Uh, I appreciate the help, but does this mean we’re gonna have to stay like this until the morning?”

“As appealing as it sounds to have my hands on you all night long, I don’t think that will be necessary. I’m hoping I only need to warm you up enough for you to be able to pull through the night. Perhaps half an hour of this will be enough.”

“I hope so. Um, thanks,” Danny said quietly.

Vlad only offered another smile in response.

Suddenly more aware of how awkward the situation truly was, Danny turned his head away, staring at the fireplace as it continued to crackle and burn. He blamed the heat creeping up his neck on the steady rise of his body temperature. Why was he so embarrassed anyway? It’s not like it’s the first time Vlad has seen him without any clothes on. And even more than that.

Maybe it was the fact that Vlad was helping him—especially while he’s in such a vulnerable state. Now that was something he definitely wasn’t used to. After all the violent encounters they’ve had in the past, having Vlad look after him seemed like such a foreign concept. Heck, sometimes Danny still had trouble believing that they could be in the same room together without a fight breaking out.

It’s because they’re the only ones of their kind and it didn’t make sense for them to be going after each other’s throats. That’s what Vlad had told him anyway—along with a lengthy apology for all his mistakes. And, yeah, it was hard to believe him at first, but it was even harder to deny the truth behind his words. Thinking about it now, Danny couldn’t imagine going through something like this alone, where the only person who would be able to help him is…

“Are you feeling all right?”

Danny blinked. He looked up at Vlad before quickly turning away again. “Yeah. Uh. I was just thinking that—well, I guess we don’t need the fireplace anymore.”

“I suppose not. Though it helps make the setting more romantic, doesn’t it?”

Danny couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Sure. Me lying here in my underwear while you help me not freeze to death. So romantic.”

Vlad laughed quietly, and then the room fell silent again. The fireplace crackled and pop. More heat rose to Danny’s cheeks as he felt Vlad’s gaze on him, and he shifted his legs, keeping his knees together as a different kind of warmth gathered below his navel. He swallowed.

“Actually, you might’ve had the right idea earlier.”

“Huh?” Knowing he wouldn’t be able to meet Vlad’s eyes, Danny didn’t dare look up.

He tensed a bit when Vlad moved his hands. Thumbs ran over his nipples, rubbing them just enough to tease. “A good amount of physical activity does indeed heat up the body quite well.”

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Heyy, I just wanted to know if you could write a story with rhea x Fem! reader where they decide to bake cookies together and while they are waiting for them to bake reader decides to tease rhea and the results of that are reader and rhea banging on their kitchen table😛 smut pls 🙏

stop this is so cute. i’m gonna do it for halloween if that’s alright hehe those cute lil ghost and pumpkin cookies you know the ones eeek i’m so excited thank you for the request!!!!!!

Scream

rhea x fem!reader

content: soft rhea at first but then *surprise* sexy hot top rhea, fingering, praise, slight degradation, slight knife play, slight mask kink

Rhea finally had a day off so she wanted to spend it with you, of course. She’s been requesting since basically August to have a halloween movie marathon and you couldn’t be happier. Though you got scared easily, you knew the buff goth woman would be able to save you if Jason walked in the front door.

“I thought we could start with Scream and watch as many as we can and then move onto something else, I mean we have to start with the classic,” she claimed.

“I’m down for whatever, but the deal was that we had to make the pillsbury halloween cookies,” you giggled, “the ghosts and the pumpkins.”

“Yes, yes of course,” as she opened the freezer and pulled out both boxes, “should we make popcorn too?”

“Nah,” you say as you’re already setting the oven to the right temperature.

“You just… have that memorized?” she looked at the back of the boxes, then to the numbers on the oven, then to you.

“They’re my favorite cookies, of course I do,” you scoffed jokingly.

“Shoulda known,” she opened the boxes, “get two cookie sheets out then please.”

You do as told and set them on the counter. You grab a damp paper towel to wipe off the pans of any debris. “I’ll do these if you go find the movie?”

“You got it, baby,” she sets the boxes on the counter and gives you a soft kiss before she walks to the living room.

You neatly place the frozen cookies 2 inches away from each other as you continue to carefully pull the proportioned dough apart. She’s taking a while, you thought. You finish up placing the cookies just as the oven beeped, telling you it was at the correct temperature. So you open the door snd slide them onto the rack using your ‘Witch Please’ oven mitt. You set the timer then go find your girlfriend.

“Baby?” you start to walk to the living room. You were immediately blocked, “Oh my god.”

Standing in front of you was the tall wrestler but she was wearing an all black body suit that showed off her muscles perfectly and the famous Scream mask. She leaned on the doorway with her arm above you as her other hand held a very real looking fake knife.

The flood gates in your pants were immediately opened, “W-when did you get that?”

“Last week,” she said calmly, “you like?”

You didn’t think you had a thing for masks, but here you were, “mhmm,” you bit your lip to prevent any ungodly noises to come out.

The knife was dragged down your neck to your chest before dropping to the woman’s side. You didn’t think you had a thing for knives either but here you were. Maybe it was the two together? Maybe it was her doing it? All you knew was that you needed her… immediately.

“Yeah?” she walked you backwards by holding the knife gently to your neck, “who knew?”

“Y-yeah,” you gulped. Your legs hit the kitchen table so you couldn’t go any farther but she kept pushing. So you leaned backwards as far as you could.

“Crazy what a lil danger can do, huh?” she whispered centimeters away from your ear.

You let out a small moan.

“Why don’t we,” she drug the knife down to your chest once more, “have some fun while we wait for dessert, hm?”

You nodded your head. You couldn’t think of any words whatsoever, you were surprised to understand what she was even saying looking like that.

“Then lay down,” she growled as she dug the knife into your chest. Though it was plastic, it still hurt a little bit but you didn’t mind at all.

So you laid down, on the kitchen table, your legs hanging off, under your knife wielding masked hot buff goth wrestler girlfriend, I won, you thought.

“Good girl,” her accent said.

That could’ve made you cum right then, to be honest. The whole vibe of her was different, it was crazy and it was making you crazy.

She shifted herself between your legs so you wrapped them around her locking your ankles as you sat up on your elbows eyeing her toned body up and down.

“Like what you see, baby?” she cooed as she drug the knife down your torso.

“Very much so,” you bit your lip.

“Mmm,” the knife was now caressing your thigh and slowly moving to your inner thigh, “how long do we have?”

Assuming she was talking about the cookie timer, “a-about 10 minutes?” you struggled to see the timer.

“Plenty of time then,” and with that she dropped the knife and stripped your pajama shorts and underwear in one go, leaving your bottom half bare on the kitchen table in front of her, “And look, you’re already ready for me.”

“What did you expect?” you chuckled, “but please take off the mask now, I want to kiss you.”

She let out a long exaggerated sigh, “if you insist,” and slipped it off.

Almost as soon as she did, you sat up, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. So she bent down on top of you bracing herself with one hand as the other found its way to your soaking folds easily caressing.

You moan into her at the sensation when she begins to form slow circles on your clit. As more moans and whines come from you, she quickens her pace. She kisses down your neck, “didn’t know you’d be such a slut for the mask.”

“Me either,” you choke out.

“And the knife?” she bit at your neck, rolling your skin in her teeth.

“Fuck…love that too,” the pressure in your hips quickly began to rise.

“I guess I should use that more often then,” her free hand clasped around your neck as she stood back up, then easily slipped her fingers inside of you.

Your breath hitched as your eyes rolled back and your back arched, a quiet “god,” came from you. You gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it as the knot in your stomach grew even more.

She smiled down at you, slowly pumping into you, “if that’s what you want to call me,” she joked. She quickened her pace as her grip on your neck tightened, “you look so pretty my baby,” she admitted.

One of your hands gripped on her toned forearm in front of you, groaning at her praise. Your hips worked against her perfectly, hitting everything just right, “fffffuck…right there,” you whine.

“C’mon baby,” she was pounding into you, the kitchen table was squeaking as you rocked your hips. She let go of your throat so she could squat down to lap at your clit while her hand worked its magic.

“Holy fuck,” your hand tangled in her hair. It didn’t take much longer for the pressure to finally release. “GOD,” your back arched hard as your eyes rolled to the back of your head once more, spilling out all over her hand. Moaning loudly, she let you ride it out as her free hand kept you from closing your legs.

Your legs shook a bit as she finally took her hand away, cleaning you up with her tongue. You finally relaxed, breathing heavily when the timer started beeping.

She stood up and smiled at you as she sucked her fingers cleaned. She left you wide open as she turned the timer off and took the cookies out. “Perfect timing,” she threw the mitt down on the counter.

You sat up on your elbows, “well… we have to let them cool,” you cocked an eyebrow at her playing with the knife at your mouth.

“God you’re such a whore, I love it,” as she hungrily rushed back to you.

[jhypeach]

2:OO in the morning

pairing: jaehyun x fem reader warnings: smut, dry humping, shower sex

It was early in the morning, the sun was still not out, and your body was heating. You moved around to find something that could make you comfortable grinding your legs together to feel some smoothness. It did help you fall asleep, but that didn't last long.

You woke up again, finding your hand near your core, Fuck! You cursed at yourself, knowing it was your hormones kicking again. You palmed your hitting clothed core, careful enough not to make any noise so Jaehyun, your Husband, wouldn't wake up.

Still not contended by it, you grabbed the extra pillow up on your headrest and started grinding into it, suppressing some whimpers and moans. Jaehyun felt your bed moving too much, which made him wake up from his slumber. "Babe? What are you doing?" he asked, still not really getting what was in front of him.

When his eyes finally adjusted was able to finally see you clearly, dry humping, biting your bottom lips while you knead your boobs. He got up and tried to stop you, “Y/n, are you all right?” he asked. You faced him with your so lewd face wanting to be fucked so badly. “I… I think.. myy ugh hormones. God!” you respond, trying to free your hand from his grip. Still processing the scene in front of him, Jaehyun stood there trying to figure out this piece lay in his very eyes.

“Take off your clothes,” he said as he removed his muscle shirt, “What?” you asked, confused. “Take off your clothes and go to the bathroom”

"I can't stop, please just let me-" He moved closer to you so close that you could actually feel the tip of his nose, "Take off your clothes and go to the bathroom. I don't want us to sleep smelling like sex and sticky after. Now move, foxy Bim"

With your back against the cold wall of the shower room and your left leg hanging on Jaehyun's arm, you're a complete mess for wanting more. This is already your fourth round inside the bathroom, excluding the hungry make-out session before you two entered the bathroom. "Ugh, faster, baby. Fas- ahh" You grabbed Jaehyun's nape to kiss him sloppily as what you are having right now is a seventh heaven that even God can't save you from how rough Jaehyun is rummaging you.

He moved faster that your back was already hitting the wall and already red from the impact, but the sex was too good that it made you numb. "I'm coming. More. I'm near," you said, which he gladly obliged. A few more thrusts, and you both released for the fifth time of the night. "This'll be the last round. Okay?" Jaehyun said as he was about to remove his shaft, but you pulled him and locked him between your embrace on his nape.

"One last. Please," you begged him. "Baby, the sun will be out in a few minutes. Plus, we have work, and we're gonna drop the twins off later. Enough already, okay?" He said in a calm way and bopped your nose and kissed your pout away. You attempted to deepen the kiss, but he dodged it and let out a chuckle, "Let's take a shower."

You were still sulking when you finished taking shower, "You can even no longer walk properly, and you still want more?" Jaehyun said as you left him inside the bathroom. He followed you into the closet and kissed your jaw, "Later, when we get home," he whispered, which took you aback.

[madametamma]

The Day Jon was born (A MAWS fanfic)

“I’m so sorry, but your son likely only has a few more hours to live.”

The news made Clark’s whole world lose sound, light, and color. He was frozen to the spot. His body reacting as if he didn’t move time wouldn’t go forward.

He and Lois were so thrilled over having a baby. Clark wasn’t sure he could due to his alien DNA, until one day in the middle of stopping a bank robbery he heard a noise he had never imagined before.

Two hearts beating inside Lois as she hid behind a turned over desk to cover herself from the armed robber’s gunfire. She furiously scribbled notes into a pad of paper for the story she’d write about this. The shock at the time got Superman shot over 58 times until the robbers themselves grew confused at his motionlessness.

He suddenly snapped out of his stupor, finished rounding the robbers up as quick as a flash and carried his perplexed wife out the door up to the privacy of the sky to give her body a proper X ray vision scan, confirming that she was indeed pregnant.

They were overjoyed at the time. So happy to bring a child into the world. They imagined teaching him or her catch, bringing them to Ma and Pa’s home for holidays. They wanted every part that parenthood had to offer together.

A few weeks later the fears started taking hold. Lois was on an emotional roller coaster. With some days feeling full of energy and eager to fight against her husbands insistence that she be less reckless with claims that no one could stop her from doing what she had to do as a reporter and other days where she cried in bed feeling certain she was going to be a horrible mother.

Through every breakdown Clark was there to assure her that everything would be fine although she wasn’t the only prone to anxiety and emotional episodes. He would also have more than his fair share of nightmares of something happening to the baby. A foe discovering of his family’s existence and taking them hostage? A strange Kryptonian sickness that he would have no idea how to cure? What if their child had powers like him? What if they had to live with the isolation and loneliness he grew up with as a boy. He would never wish that on anyone let alone his own kid.

Thankfully Lois and Clark never had a breakdown at the same time. They were each other’s rock. When one was in crisis mode, the other swooped in to let them know they believed everything would be alright.

That is until last night. 25 days before her due date, as Clark was brushing his teeth getting ready for bed, he heard the sound of a crash in the kitchen where Lois was. Near instantaneously he was at her side as she lay fallen on the floor breathing ragged, holding her baby bump.

“Something’s wrong.” She managed to hiss out through clenched teeth.

Clark flew her to the local hospital as fast as he was able, The doctors declared that if they had any chance at saving the baby, they’d need to perform surgery immediately.

As Lois was going under, quickly loosing consciousness, she gave Clark the most painful, terrified expression Clark had ever seen from her, it almost stopped his heart. It didn’t look right on the face of the bravest person he’d ever known, and it made him feel almost as small and helpless as she looked.

“C-Clark, y-you’ve gotta make sure our baby’s gonna be okay. You’ve gotta bring em to me, promise?”

“I promise.” The words came out before Clark even knew what he was promising. He would have given her anything in that moment.

She muttered a few words incoherently as her eye glazed over and succumbed to the anesthesia.

The rest was a blur for Clark. Never in his life had he felt so powerless and afraid. The only thing he clung to was the sound of the two heartbeats of his wife and baby until finally a doctor delivered him those awful words.

“I’m so sorry, but your son likely only has a few more hours to live.”

Clark somehow found himself sitting in the hospital room with his sleeping wife and tiny new born son. He was hunched over, head in his hands, not sure how long he’d been there or how he got there.

He finally managed to look over at his new born son, so small, pale and struggling to breath. Clark looked at him more closely with his super vision. There was something unstable about human, kryptonian DNA mixed together. The baby’s heart was weak and struggled with all its might to keep on beating. Turns out Clark was right all those years. He couldn’t have a healthy baby with a human.

He turned his gaze to Lois. How was he going to face her? The promise he made in the heat of a heartbroken moment shattered.

The light from the rising sun in the distance illuminated her face from the window. Usually Clark’s favorite sight in the world. The sunrise lighting up his wife’s beautiful, peaceful face as she slept so close by him but at this moment…

That’s when realization struck him. He looked back at his son. He had his kryptonian DNA. And Kryptonians heal when exposed to strong sunlight.

Without wasting another moment, Clark unhooked his child from the machines keeping him alive. If he was wrong about this, their boy would die but if he did nothing, he’d die anyway in a few more hours. He cradled his child in his two hands. He was small enough that he could fit nearly all of him in them.

“Lois, I’m going to try something drastic.” He muttered to his unconscious wife before flying off.

He held his baby firm against his chest and just went strait up above the clouds where he could be close to the sun. It was almost blindingly bright but Clark kept his eyes on the boy as he held him out enough that his skin could absorb as much light as possible.

And he waited…

And waited…

No immediate change. Were seconds or minutes going by? Clark couldn’t tell. His whole universe held still.

“Jonathan?” Clark mouthed out, saying the name he and Lois had agreed upon if they had a boy.

“Jonathan.” He said again a little louder this time.

“Do you know who I am? Do you recognize my voice?” So many nights Clark curled up next to Lois’s baby bump speaking to it about anything and everything, hoping that his child would know him by the sound of his voice once he was born.

“Cry Jonathan… Please cry.” He begged. Clark had been crying nearly this whole time and a new fresh set of fat tears rolled down his face.

“If you cry now, I’ll never feel bad about you crying for the rest of our lives. I will stay up all night, every night with you if you want to cry in your cradle, When you’re older I’ll sit with you if you cry over a nightmare, or if you cry about getting dumped or bullied at school. Just cry for me, Jon.”

No change.

“There’s so many great things in this world, Jon. You’re going to have an aunt Kara who will teach you stuff and an uncle Jimmy who will make you laugh and a grandpa and grandma who will make you feel loved and special, and you’re mom and dad will always be there for whatever you need, but you’ve got to live, okay?”

Still nothing.

Clark sniffled back more tears, his voice was choked up with emotion.

Suddenly, it was as though the whole world put back into its rightful place all at once it hit him. Jon let out a loud baby wail and wiggled slightly in his father’s hands. His skin was bright and rosy and Clark could hear a heartbeat strong and steady.

For a moment all Clark could do was stare at the child illuminated by the rising sun. Almost unable to process the miracle before him. When more tears fell and finally he could smile. He brought his son close and cooed,

“Daddy’s here… Thank you Jonathan.”

Lois was beginning to come around. She looked around and found her room empty. She couldn’t help but be worried that Clark wasn’t with her and neither was their baby, when suddenly a shadow cast over her. She looked to the window to find her husband smiling down at her eyes puffy from crying with their child in his arms.

Wanting to close the distance between them, without taking her eyes off her family, Lois moved to get out of bed to reach out for them only to almost immediately fall on unsteady legs.

Clark moved to catch her with one arm and move her back to bed. Once she was okay, he handed her their crying baby. “Lois, meet Jonathan. He’s beautiful.”

And now it was Lois’s turn to cry as she held her tiny son close to her chest, thankful that her family was okay. She didn’t need to ask. She could read it on Clark’s face. She held their baby and Clark held the both of them.

The doctors were astounded. They had never examined a healthier baby.