#sometimes i think i've come up with a good name but then the next morning i wake up like “what was i thinking”

[itsa-me-lily]

God I love this au, it's feeding me so good today. The last one with the part about only one bedroom has me thinking about a sick reader, the gross kind of sick where you're sweaty and wheezy and snotty, and the fact that if it were anyone else Simon would be quarantining them. But because it's his spouse, he wakes up to you nasally wheezing and mouth breathing while sprawled across him, and all he can think about is when you're due for your next round of medicine and if he needs to buy more tissues.

Sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste. Also do the guinea pigs have names and what do they look like?

I'm dying. This is the first ever ask I've ever gotten (that I recall) and I'm going to pass away. Also "sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste" that is such a good line, I'm apologizing in advance if I steal it.

Also warning for content of being sick, this is based off my last bout of plague.

Also Also Here's the Masterlist

Bedsharing in general does not happen at first. (Now I want to percolate an idea about sharing the bed for the first time). You're way to use to having your own bed that sharing with someone means you're not sleeping easily and I think Simon would rather sleep with the guinea pigs in their cage than have another human being that close to him when he sleeps. (This was also not something he initially thought about when being told a spouse was to be picked)

So what's the solution? Obviously bunk beds! Kind of, sorta...okay not really but the look on Simon's face when you had suggested getting bunk beds had been entertaining. Who knew so much indignation could come through a medical mask. Really his eyebrows did so much talking.

With the dream of bunkbeds dashed, the next best solution was either two twin beds crammed into the bedroom with a bedside's worth of space between them, or a pull out couch. You managed to find a couch same day that didn't terribly clash with the artwork you have yet to hang up.

You two actually manage to come up with a schedule for who slept where. Obviously you'd get the bed when Simon was deployed, made no sense for you not to. And when he was home the bed was all his unless he was having a night that he knew he wasn't going to trust a deadbolt to keep monsters at bay. Then he made himself comfortable, TV playing low until he managed a few hours in the early morning before you try to leave a silently as you can for work.

(Funny thing, even if you aren't sharing a bed traditionally, you both most certainly have your own sides, along with bed stands that told two different stories)

The first time you get sick is when Simon is technically deployed. Well actually, the day he returns is the day you spike a 101.8 fever and work forces you to go home so you don't become a walking petri dish and expose the college kids that come into your office.

Once you're home you appease the little beasts demanding some sort of vegetal boon, change into the rattiest clothes you have, and then huddle under a staggering amount of blankets that have made their home on your bed. (Simon may have side eyed them when you first set them out, but you've seen the mountain he creates under them, you knew the magic of weighted blankets)

Sleep isn't peaceful, you hadn't broken out the Nyquil quite yet, but you do manage to drift off for a few hours. And then the coughing starts. It's the kind that's a bitch to deal with, dry and pushing your ribs to the limit with how often they can expand and contract. By the time Simon comes home you've steamed yourself twice, taken only a smidge over the recommended amount of cough suppressant, and slathered yourself with Vic's Vaporub. All in all, you were properly miserable.

You're in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of your over-steeping tea as if it will magically make you feel better if you only sell your soul to it, really a tempting offer, when the wheeks of the pigs announce that another person they know has arrived.

If Simon wasn't clued in that something was off at seeing you home before the end of your work day, the pungent smell of menthol would have been a dead give away. You're still communing with your tea when he knocks against the wall, pulling you out of the deal for your soul to meet him with bleary eyes and a flushed face.

You croak out a greeting that makes Simon wince in sympathy, though that's about all he really does. Simon doesn't really do pleasantries and doting probably wouldn't be the first word people use to describe him, so with your brain function reduced by an overflow of mucus and fever, the kitchen was rather silent.

Until you started coughing, face buried into the crook of your elbow to try to keep your contagion to a minimum and back bowing to nearly double you over. That drives Simon to action, coming to try to keep you up incase you collapse, grabbing your free arm.

When you feel him touch you, you try to pull away, shaking your head and finally finishing your bout, gasping a little as you try to daunting task of breathing and speaking to dissuade him from getting close lest he catches what you have. He clearly wasn't persuaded, hands clenching and unclenching like he simply wanted to pick you up and put you...somewhere.

How exactly Simon Riley would take care of you, he didn't know but he'd be damned sure to at least try. He'd been left to fend for himself while sick before and he didn't like the idea of you going through that. When it was clear that he wasn't going to just leave you to your suffering you relented enough to try to reach a compromise; if he'd be alright watching the pigs while you were sick that would be more useful than a nursemaid while you camped out on the couch.

That...that was something Simon could do. He'd watched how you took care of the boys, surely this was something he could do. And then his brain caught up to the rest of what you had said. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on some pull out couch, as nice as it was. Being Sick meant sleeping in a proper bed, on a mattress that didn't spend it's days folded up.

You tried to insist it was alright but he wouldn't listen to a word of it. Instead he practically herded you back to the bedroom, ignoring your murmurs of your abandoned hot beverage. He didn't lift you to plop you onto the bed itself but it was a near thing. He had to bribe you with the promise of a proper cup of tea for you to even lay your head on your pillow, eyes already heavy with the need for sleep. By the time he had actually made a cup you were out for the count, nasally mucus filled snores letting him know you hadn't perished in the time it took him.

The next few days were filled with mucus, the attempted escape of your lungs via coughing fits, and more Vics than the human body should be exposed to. And the entire time you insisted that you could fend for yourself. Simon didn't push to play nurse, but your tissues never ran out, a dose of medication was always ready on your bedside, and a warm cup of tea stood waiting for you after each nap, like a solider committed to his guard.

Edit;

I'm going to make a separate post for the guinea pigs, because honestly I'm torn on if they're based on my guinea pigs I used to have, or guinea pigs I'd want to have in the future

[onedismay]

I've designed like ten Mass Effect OCs this year and not a single one has a name. This is becoming a problem

[sweetnans]

"K', new situation"

The remote was out of your reach because you kept pausing the shows, and Katsuki had enough of watching every episode like there was a connection problem.

"Hit me," he said, resting his head on the wall of your dorm.

It became a habit that you and him watched shows together at your dorm, every Thursday night, no excuse. Last week, you started watching "Queen Charlotte," and even though Katsuki didn't want to watch the show, you convinced him to give it a chance, and now, he was the one who didn't want you to pause it.

"What if...-no, no, ok, let me start over." You tripped on your questions, and Katsuki found it adorable. "Imagine this, you are royalty and someone with more power than you, force you to marry someone you don't know...are you following me?" You paused at his quizzed face.

"Yeah, I am," he simply answered.

"So they force you to marry someone you don't know and you have no interest in. What would you do?"

"Mm, I would probably cheat on her multiple times, make her so unhappy, and be a dick of a husband," he side eyed you while answering because he couldn't get his eyes off of the screen and because he wanted to watch you freaking out at his answer. He could do both.

"Are you serious?" You couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. "Jesus, Katsuki, what an asshole"

You stomped to his body and reached the remote to put the show on pause.

"Not again. Why do you do this to me?" He whined. He was getting upset, but you were more upset because he wasn't taking serious the situation game.

"Why are you like that? Don't you think that maybe an arrangement marriage is the perfect occasion to find true love? You obviously skipped a step, but now you have all the time in the world to know a person, the details, the way they like their tea in the morning, the things that make them upset. I think it's lovely and romantic. " You day dreamed, and Katsuki couldn't bear the fact that you and him were so different. He liked it, finding a way to make opposites attract situations happened in his life.

"I think it's opposite ends. There's only two ways to go. It's extremely good or extremely bad"

"Yeah, you're right," you gave in. He was the one who didn't believe in love after all. You've had multiple boyfriends in the span of two years, always falling for the jerks, like Katsuki always said, but you never denied the opportunity of starting over. You put the show again and sank on your spot.

Your quietness made Katsuki uncomfortable. You spent the rest of the episode without pusing the show, not for situation game or going to pee and that was very weird of you.

Before the next episode started, Katsuki himself paused it.

"You didn't like what I said," he stated looking at you.

You were dissociating, actually, you weren't mad at him, you were just thinking about him, about how you were feeling towards his feelings, you were upset because you knew that If you had feelings for him (that you already had) he wouldn't give himself a chance with you and you would be head over heels for him, making the situation unfair to you and your feelings. What you were thinking wasn't any close to the situation that you gave him. It wasn't something settled between you and him. It was more about his vision of love, the opposite ends example.

"No, it's not that it's just -" you sighed. You didn't want to make things awkward between Katsuki and you. You found a steady ground where you could enjoy each other's company without making it any weird. "I don't know, Bakugo."

He seemed astonished.

"Mm, last name basis now, huh? Must be something serious. " he moved from his seat to put his figure in front of you. "Use your words, I know you can fucking talk"

Sometimes, he called yourself for eating his ear off because you couldn't shut up. He was trying to make you feel comfortable with him again.

"See, it's just... I'm feeling kinda worried about you because I've never seen you with someone else. I want you to find love, to be happy, to face love, and dare to take a chance on someone, you know? And maybe I'm misunderstanding things here, and you don't want any of that. " You stumble through your words, taking his face in. He looked like he was thinking, but his eyes were analyzing your face like it was the first time he ever saw you. "I don't want you to think that I'm pitying you -"

"I do want to experience love," he said, glancing briefly to your lips and then your eyes. "And maybe I'm just waiting for the right one," he muttered, getting closer to you.

You were stoic in your place. Thoughts running in your head, the gears in your brain trying to figure what was happening and if it was just a dream. Maybe you were just imagining things, and now you feared to take the wrong step.

"You do?" You asked, feeling his presence in your space asking whatever came to your mind so you could have more time to think about this situation.

"Yeah, but she keeps dating assholes"

He grinned a little, trying to give away the slightest clue about his feeling but the exact amount of it so you could realize what he was saying.

For his own luck, you were pretty clever sometimes.

"Well, maybe, no one ever showed her better." You squeezed yourself between his legs while he was still sitting with his legs crossed. He parted his legs at your movement and grabbed your waist to keep you close. "I dated assholes because you were too busy demonstrating you didn't care when I dated them"

"Is that so?" He asked humming.

"Yeap," you nodded like a child, playing with your hands in your lap, concentrating in them.

"I'm sorry for not interrupting sooner," he moved his head to his side, trying to catch your eyes.

"You better be," you told him, giggling. It was an unexplored field. You were distracting yourself for the upcoming event.

"We haven't even kissed yet, and you already have an attitude with me? Get a fucking grip" he joked while taking your hands apart.

"Jeez, you should check yourself and look for the stick that's up in your asshole. You are so dense sometimes. "

You pushed him slightly, and he tugged your hands against his chest, caging you without any escape routes.

"Just shut the fuck up"

Without any warning, he crashed his lips against yours with feverish force. His grip in your hands fell so he could touch every part of your body thoroughly. Your arms clinged behind his back, closing the gap between the two of you. Your fingers touched the nape of his neck, tugging his hair every time he bit your lips.

You two were out of air, so you were forced to step back a little. His nose touched yours, and he gave you soft pecks in your lips before opening his mouth.

"No more dating assholes" he warned.

"Mmhm," you nodded, biting your lip. "You better stop acting like one then"

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[astralis-ortus]

a little sweet fix

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— sometimes what you thought was right might not be the best way.

w.count → 0.9k genre → comfort warning → mild cussing, mention of a family member getting into an accident (not described, non fatal), chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe a.n → based on this request! i've never really written something in this nature, but it was a good challenge! tysm for requesting♡ ⋆ see masterlist

the air in the apartment was oddly tense when chris finally got home. he knew for a fact that you’re back from work—the pair of shoes you wore earlier this morning has returned amongst your and chris’ shared shoe cabinet, and you just texted him around 20 minutes ago, asking him what you should get for dinner, before chris’ usual drive back from work.

“baby?” chris cautiously called out, footsteps treading down to your shared bedroom, and only then did he finally heard the familiar soft rustling of your slippers—along with a muffled conversation and your soft sniffles.

“gosh—are you sure you’re fine?”

your concerned voice turned clear as chris gently pushed the wooden slab ajar, revealing your anxiously pacing figure with a phone next to your ear. the questions reflected in his eyes soon turned to worry when he noticed the remnants of tears down your pale cheeks—but he kept quiet when you mouthed a quiet ‘hi’, followed by the shapes he recognizes as the name to your younger sibling while you pointed at the phone.

“my god—you still have the audacity to joke after getting mom and dad to hide this from me?” you groaned in annoyance, hand flying up to soothe the mild throb on your temple. “ugh, you’re unbelievable. fine. rest up, okay? i love you.”

you peered up as soon as the call disconnected and found your boyfriend smiling tenderly at you, arms apart as they quietly invited you into his embrace. no questions, no prying out answers, nothing—he just stood there, patiently waiting for you to come to him.

and so, you did.

his scent instantly fills you as you melt into his embrace, arms tightly wrapped around his midriff while he envelopes you in his warmth. you didn’t even know when, but tears started to begin its second race down your face, sniffles dampened by the broad of chris’ chest. you cried, and chris just stayed there, hand gently patting your back while he buries his nose between the waves of your hair.

“i feel like a terrible older sibling,” you finally croaked after what felt like a long while, sniffling away the rest of your tears while you rest against the echo of chris’ heartbeat. “how could i not notice they’ve been distancing from me? and only to find out it was because they got hospitalized after a bike crash? god­—i feel awful. how come i didn’t notice anything?”

“you’re not a terrible sibling, baby,” chris hummed, lips pressed against your forehead gently, “they just didn’t want you to worry. they know you would drop everything and do anything in your power to fly home right there and then, and i assume they didn’t want that. it’s neither your faults,” he muttered, hands now cupping your cheeks while he erases any trace of tears left on your skin.

“but still…” your lips pursed in protest, glossy eyes peering up at chris, “it’s a big deal, and i feel like crap for not being able to be there for my family. i could—i could’ve been there, you know? they’re my family. i should’ve been there.”

“i understand, baby,” chris softly exhaled as he pulled you into another hug, “but based on what i heard earlier, i can only assume they would feel guilty for making you come home. it’s only natural for you to want to be there and take care of them—i understand that, but don’t you think by not making them worry over you disregarding work just to fly home is also another form of help?”

you wanted to disagree—how could being unaware and staying thousands of miles away be of help for your family? you eyebrows furrowed, about to protest when chris continued, “think about it, babe. if it was you, wouldn’t you feel bad and worry about them instead your own recovery if your family flew all the way here? wouldn’t you tell them that calls and facetimes are enough because you have me to take care of you?”

you so wanted to disagree—but deep down, you do understand what chris meant.

“also,” pressing a light peck on the top of your head, chris then continued, “i think the only reason your parents agreed to keep you in the dark for a while is because they knew there’s nothing major you should be worried about. i’m sure they wouldn’t agree otherwise, yeah?”

and again, chris is right. you know your parents—they would never do that to you.

“you’re right,” you finally exhaled, pursing your lips as you snuggled closer in his warm embrace, “maybe i wasn’t thinking far enough.”

“it’s understandable, baby,” chris smiled when he felt the tension on your back slowly loosening up under his arms, “they’re your family after all. you wouldn’t want to see them got hurt.”

“besides,” the switch of tone in chris’ eye lures your eyes to look at him, and you’re greeted by your boyfriend’s sweet dimpled smile, “i know a way you could kinda be there for them. you know the hospital room number, right?” he grinned, immediately fishing out his own phone when you nodded an answer.

“what about we send them some food and hop on facetime?” chris proposed—and when he saw the glint in your eyes returning, he knew he made the right suggestion.

“bet they could use some sweets to cheer up from all those hospital foods,” he grinned. you could only imagine how your picky eater of a sibling would've groaned at the food choices they've had to deal with during their stay so far, and it made you giggle.

“oh, they sure do.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[erensfeed]

OKAY BUT.

I woke up this morning with like, a flashing need to send you an ask about your LADS Actor AU, which sometimes just consumes my thoughts at random times.

👁️ But the boys recording the MYTHS.

Angst CENTRAL ANGST.

I just remembered the last update where they were doing Caleb's death (haha temporary of course, he's just taking a break) and she's acting out how she passes out and he pops up next to her like, why so sad?

And like... Recording the HEART BREAKING bits of their myths?

Spoilers ahead in case you HAVEN'T seen them all, won't go into detail but...

Dying in Xavier's arms? Forseer Zayne reading her fate and giving up everything for her? Rafayel having to chose between her life and his people's?

Whatever the fuck Sylus has got goin on? With the whole stabbing in the chest?

I was just consumed by the thought of them having to get into that headspace before the scene, having to pretend to see her die or hurt or knowing they won't see her again, when it's fake.

The aftermath of it too, getting out of that, maybe they're all whipped (yes) and just need a good hug and to ground themselves. Method acting you know...

Anyway 👁️ I've ranted enough 👁️

Thank you for reading through this whole ass paragraph, hope your day is wonderful!

content: how i imagine they’d be as actors when filming their myths. * some minor spoilers from me on xavier as well ! * ૮ ˶ᵔ ~ ᵔ˶ ა

you literally have no clue how i literally love you for still thinking ab those silly hcs😭 THANK YOU THANK U THANK UUU !! AND STOP BC THIS IDEA??? ate down.

cause omg they’d literally be love interests who grew head over heels in love with the main co-star in a fr deep(ressive) story. and it’s like gawd. what a life they’d come to lead if they really were actors then LMAOO

but anyway ! they would be told and agree (months prior), that method acting would be the best thing when filming each of their intense myths. and i know for a fact that rafayel would be the one waayyy too into that method acting stuff because it’d all end up feeling really personal.

‘i can totally work with this’ were the exact words that came from him as you watched and listened to him, munching on his box of donuts (this was a habit between you two — going over to the other’s trailer to snack on whatever the other got to eat). not to mention the times he’d re-read his copy of the script analysis for the nth time / before main rehearsals, and how he’d be all “pft, i wonder why [main director’s name] thinks acting all of this would ever even get to me”. and that never aged well at ALL because he ended up being more attached to it than he expected, as his natural reactions were already in tune with his lemurian character anyway.

but anyway during the era of, rafayel would suddenly stay to himself a little more / even got confused on his real feelings for you (?). and of course he’d recognize that and try to keep things professional, but he would also catch himself sometimes looking at or treating you like mc. and it’s like oh ! all this because he somehow tied everything to your irl friendship / dynamic ??? LOL

but anyway much like rafayel, xavier would also see you as the mc. just in a different way of course. cause it doesn’t help that you just so happen to naturally act like the mc, even off camera.

now when acting the real deal of his myth — when you lay lifeless in his arms — he would imagine that you really were the mc, keeping his head down as the feeling of the idea of holding the one he loved but couldn’t save hit him. his eyes would also be vacant during this scene, especially as he held the star tassel, the weight of it feeling heavier as he envisioned you giving it to him before dying.

in this same scene where he had to hold one of your limp hands in his, it actually felt colder. this didn’t show in the final take because xavier acts so authentically, but it did catch him off guard — as no one told him your hands would actually have to be cold for the real scene. and that made the moment feel even more real and intensified this ache in his chest at the thought of losing you. (lolol ofc the directors kept that because gawd everything was so realistic)

he’d tell himself it was just that scene that got to him but he’d eventually grow to randomly start reaching out to hold your hand in his more often, just to feel its warmth.

stop im giggling now bc im abt to go read smth angsty w xavier

moving on though ! zayne and his foreseer myth? especially dawnbreaker?? .. let me not go there bc this would be longer than needed. though i will say that zayne hadn’t planned on being “affected”. but he would quietly start to observe you more, as his way of not directly discussing his emotions. (this was also what prompted him to be quick to protect you on set)

in conclusion. rafayel as an actor, who has the biggest soft spot for you, would pull back just a little while in that headspace. quietly growing to wonder if you’d also forget him & all the moments you shared, once love and deepspace was over. and he would also start joking about his feelings more to mask them during that time. xavier, on the other hand, would develop a habit of finding lame excuses to have your hand in his whenever you were together, since feeling your cold hands that day did actually do something to him. zayne wouldn’t want to admit how it actually affected him but he would eventually be vulnerable about it with only you. lastly and not surprisingly enough, sylus would remain the only sane one regarding his character's darker lore LMAOO. so i’ll just leave that there (until his myth comes out).

but even though their well hidden feelings for you complicated things, they were great actors so it wouldn’t really affect them terribly for long, as they had ways to separate their personal lives from their roles by all the way you’d comfort them after you found out.

a/n: THIS WAS SO FUN & FUNNY TO ADD ONTO. althoughhh i personally don’t feel like this is 100% spot on & tied to the (1st) actor au hcs, as it’s just some ways i think they’d react but that could just be bc i wrote this in one sitting. didn’t also plan on talking that much and ab my glorious 6ft prince rafayel either but anyway thank yeww for this pooks. (also, im giving you a moon emoji for all our next discussions bc i look forward to them🙂‍↕️ )

[pinkslaystation]

[Part 3] If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Here's Part 1 and Part 2 hehehe enjoy ;> Word Count: 5k trigger warning: drugging. viewer discretion is adviced.

Dating Simon reminded you of the British economy, constant fluctuations.

He would stay over at your flat, shower you with wet kisses, and the next day he'd walk right past you as if you didn't exist.

It felt like at times Simon did really love you. He listened you to, he brushed and plaited your hair post sex, but sometimes it's like his brain would switch and his behaviour would mimic that of a ghost.

Though it been nearly 3 months since he'd popped that question in the car, you often found yourself regretting your decision.

"I do like him...but I mean- it's just, he doesn't like me back you know? Sometimes I wake up and he's just staring at me like I've just told him I've killed his dog. I mean, he doesn't have a dog I don't think, but if he did, he'd prefer the dog over me, y'know.

I don't even know why I said yes that day. I mean, he's the first real guy that's actually shown interest in me. Maybe that's why I crave his attention so much. He makes me actually enjoy being with my family, if that's so hard to believ-"

"With all due disrespect, d'ya know you?" Your neighbour answers finally.

You stare back, blood rushing to your face, "I literally live next door to you. I smile at you before I leave for work every morning-"

"So, there's nothing wrong with your face?

"What? You know me- and I'm talking about Simon, he's next door to me too..."

"What?"

"You know skull face..."

"Who?"

"Tall buff dude, y'know."

"Huh?

"Riley-"

"Oh, the guy with the big dick."

You choke on your saliva, "What- How? Um..."

"Military dude yeah? The fit blonde? Yeah, he's big, if you get what I'm saying, virgin."

You furrow your eyebrows, words trailing off, "No I'm not...I'm sorry, how'd you know..."

"Yeah, he's fucked like everyone in this building, girl. Why d'ya think he doesn't come to the flat meetings? 'Cos then he'd be surrounded by all the people he's stuck his dick in, duh." She states like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Guy comes in, drinks a bit, and runs out."

"...I thought it was because he was nervous to see....me?" At this point, you don't know if you're telling your neighbour or asking her.

"Oh girl don't be delusional, you ain't no Beyonce. Anyway, been a while since I got that dick. Let 'im know next time you see 'im." She winks at you before, hobbling off with her walking stick.

"Yeah...sure...wait- Mrs Brenda, you're like 65... AND MARRIED-"

When the 3rd month anniversary mark finally reached, Simon decided to treat you to an expensive meal at a luxurious restaurant.

And by that I mean, 6 McNuggets at Maccies.

"They're cold, babe." He complains, slouching across you, one leg bent and propped on his seat.

Yes, Simon. Because you spent 15 minutes arguing with the worker for an extra packet of mayo. But you refrained yourself from saying that, in case you'd anger him further.

"So how's the task force?"

You've learnt very little about Simon, one part that stuck out to you was that the people he was closest to was his team in the military, naming his Captain John Price, who seemed to pop up in every conversation the two of you had.

"You got that 'lil mustache on yer face again."

"Excuse me?"

"Nah babe, it's cute. Reminds me of Captain's."

It hurt even more when he showed you a picture of John Price and you're face to face with a middle aged man with a full grown beard, who's being compared to the peach fuzz on your upper lip.

"Team's good." He sighs out of exhaustion. "Soap's engaged now, y'know."

You smile, mind suddenly racing to the thought of Simon proposing to you, but you shake it away, oddly cringing at the thought.

"'Old man's thinking of getting transferred to the States. Finally..."

The thought of Simon being jealous over his Captain was always a hidden theory for you. He'd mention it so frequently, it was as if he was keeping tabs on his superior, bringing it up at every moment at his signs of weakness. And when he'd compare Price to you, it was never in a positive light, rather one where it felt like he was looking down at Price, but through you.

You wondered if Simon had a superiority complex, and maybe that's why he'd chosen a little naive lamb like you, to project all of his insecurities onto you.

I mean, you're not gonna do anything about it are you? Nah, you're gonna take it like the good little girl you are.

I mean you are right now- literally.

His dick is cramped right in your pussy, his rounded tip rapidly kissing at your cervix. His chapped lips crash against yours, but you can't seem to ignore the faint taste of his Big Mac through his mouth.

"Can tell your cunt likes that, 'lil slut." He seethes out, through inconsistent breaths. You can barely hear him, through the sound of your sweaty bodies colliding and the ringing through your head.

You hum uncomfortably. It was gonna be a long night.

The following weekend, you find yourself spending eons getting dolled up for a get together at the base. You decorated your face with a bold smokey eye, paired with a lined red lip, only to be mocked by Simon.

"Red? We're going to base, not the circus."

So you take off the lipstick. And the eye makeup. In fact, even when you changed from a tight black pencil skirt to a matching sweatshirt and joggers combination, you still find yourself being berated by Simon.

"Getting kinda lazy with the clothes huh, love?" He asks, cocking his eyebrows towards you.

Is he for real?

Grunting in response, you look out the window, shoving your headphones in, grateful for the noise cancelling feature so you wouldn't have to sit through Simon's mouth breathing throughout the journey.

The meeting itself was as awkward as imagined. The moment the pair of you entered the room, Simon decided to detach his arm wrapped around your shoulder and immediately brisk walk to the nearest woman possible. If he was trying to fool his team to thinking he was single...boy was he good at it.

Being left out in an unfamiliar space was unfortunately not too foreign for you, and you quickly found solace by the water fountain, sipping on a plastic cup of lukewarm water.

"Bored, eh?"

You jump, having zoned out.

You turn to a man you've seen oh so many times on Simon's phone.

"Captain John Price?" You smile.

"The one and only, lass. My, a pair of sweatpants. Priorising comfort, are we?" He jokes, lightly.

"Were you expecting lingerie?"

"Pretty either way." He chuckles, and you eye the way his eyes squint as he smiles, and the smile lines painting his cheeks. You shouldn't be looking at your boyfriend's competition captain this way.

You're at peace with John. You find yourself opening up about yourself, something you now know you couldn't truly do around Simon. John cared about what you said, reacting to every joke you dropped here and there, unlike Simon, who plays connect the dots with your forehead blemishes as you rant passionately.

John chuckles, "Oh God. Work sounds intense."

You hum, admiring his laughter, which cuts off to the sound of a loud buzzing (buttplug?) coming from his back pocket. He excuses himself from the conversation, but you can't help but eavesdrop.

"John Price speaking. Yes. Uh huh-what? Another soldier? Same substance? Christ's sake...Doctor's got a name? Succiny- Succinylc- what? Okay, okay. I'm coming, gimme 20 minutes-what, now? I'm...busy" He turns to flash you a small smile, "Okay, fine. Dammit."

"You okay, seemed urgent?"

He dramatically sighs, "We both got work problems...There's been a...how do i say this...another one of our soldiers have been getting drugged?" It sounds more of a question than an answer, "We think it's some sort of new drug on the black market, and now that our enemy's have a hold of it, our soldiers...fuck, getting drugged left, right and centr- Sorry, um, unauthorized information..." He trails off, realising he's said too much.

You're ears perk up, "Drugs? What are the um, symptoms?" You can't help but be curious.

John looks around, as if to check if anyone was listening to the conversation, though most people are hammered on hardcore liquor and cigarettes. He lowers his voice, "Starts off with headaches, nausea, then there's seizures...worst case scenario is paralysis. Gotten 4 of our soldiers already, poor men, had to be medically dismissed...."

You hum, silently and unsure of what to reply with. If you were attempting to flirt with John, the mood had definitely dissipated.

"But hey, listen. You ever need a change of pace, a better job, you can call me." He grabs your hand, and messily writes his phone number with a biro, winking before he leaves.

Maybe you will call him.

As the sky becomes darker and the clock strikes past 9 P.M., you find yourself walking outside the building, searching for Simon.

"...annoying."

Huh? You peer over the corner to overhear the conversation. Was that Simon?

"..follows me around a sad 'lil shit."

Was he talking about you?

You catch a quick glance, confirming that it was indeed a drunk Simon, with who you believe was Soap.

"Her mum's hotter, too. All over me." Simon boasts, whipping out his phone, presumably to show them a picture of your mother, as it sparks a 'milf alert' comment from Soap.

"...nothing compared to her. She's like a doormat."

You look at Simon, and for a second, you swear he made deliberate eye contact with you.

"She's fuckin' spineless."

For a moment, time pauses.

...

Spineless.

You're spineless.

I mean, it may be true. But the truth doesn't always have to come out, no?

After doing so much for this man, you'e still...spineless?

Laying at the comfort of your bed, dragging a tipsy Simon out of the car and him rushing to his flat, you find yourself gazing down at the smudged ink on your palm. Maybe it's time to switch your job.

Who knows who you'll run into...

That night, you rest, dreaming about John Price.

You're in an abyss in your dreams, John's pale muscular arms wrap around your frame, with the faint scent of cigars and whisky wafting around your nose. You blink and you see the bottom of his groomed beard, and small smile resting on his tired face.

You blink once more. But this time, you don't see John Price. This time, you're staring into the sullen eyes of a skeleton-masked man, lifelessly staring straight at you with no emotion. You look down the body of Simon.

The lower half of his body was missing.

By the third blink, you jolt awake and look around, but this time you're on the floor wrapped in your quilt and covered in sweat. Very much alone.

What was this dream trying to tell you?

The jump from retail to cyber-operations was large and challenging. You went from serving customers to quite literally serving the country, from scanning items to defending the weapon's system. But 2 weeks into your new career and you feel like you've actually put your degree to some use.

Your family have been ringing you almost weekly, asking about your new position, although it's mainly your mother interrogating you about Simon.

And to say he was upset with your choice of working with the army, was an understatement, in his words, he felt like you were crowding him in all areas of his life. His home, his workplace, and now his mind.

You'd ask him to drop you off, considering he's going the same way, but he'd come up with unjustified excuses.

"Can't. Need to be there early."

"Nah, gonna distract me, love."

"Can't be seen with you." He mutters the last one, but you're not deaf and Simon can't exactly whisper very well. Sometimes you wonder why you haven't broken up with him.

So you've resorted to the next option.

Public transport. Calling John Price.

"You're not a burden, sweetheart. Who's been tellin' you that?"

You subordinate <3 But you can't say that, so you resort to casually laughing at his question. You can't help but think about the reoccurring dream you've been having, they always start the same.

You're in a abyss, and you're in the arms of John Price, you blink and suddenly face to face with the half-corpse of Simon. You're struggling to work out the deeper message of the visio-

"Love, you there? Went to lala-land or something?"

Think about John Price. Focus on him, why are you still bound to that jerk? You think.

"I'm good. So uh, how's the situation with you? And the um...drugs thing?" You look at him, your words surprising yourself, since when did you have an interest in drugs?

"Oh, uh. We're not allowed to disclose that sweetheart...besides, Simon didn't tell you? Kinda big thing here..."

Of course, Simon wouldn't tell me, why would he? You tell me, John.

You give him your best puppy dog eyes, eyebrows knitting together, "Oh..."

He runs his thick fingers through his brunette hair, adjusting himself in his seat, "Succinylcholine. There's a mixture, but that's the main component. Causes paralysis to the legs and spine...seems like that's what they wanted, to paralyse our soldiers, 7th victim this we..."

Paralysis huh. You turn to look at the passing trees outside the windows. Paralysis to the spine and legs...

By the time you reach work, you're at your computer by your desk, typing away at the lines of code on your programme, once again eavesdropping to the conversations in your vicinity.

"...it's the same location they keep getting deployed, why are they getting deployed there again?"

"Captain Price is going this time..."

"...2nd guy's in a coma now..."

The chatter dies down to the loud slam of the door: Your supervisor.

"People. Come on. Chop chop, we have deadlines to meet. Stop the chatter, fucks sake."

You get back to your screen, but you can't help but shake the unsettling feeling off your mind.

Ding!

11:26 A.M. Si:- Come outside on your break. Need to talk.

I guess you're finally breaking up.

"Getting deployed."

Simon's scarred hands caress yours, gently lifting your ring finger and slotting a shiny silver ring, with a skull stuck in the center. You think back to the times where you told Simon that you preferred gold jewelry over silver, since it complimented your skin tone better. To love is to be seen I guess.

A crowd of soldiers begin whistling at the scene, and Simon retracts his hands almost instantaneously.

"Wanted to give this to you for anniversary...but I ordered it a little late."

You hum, immediately twisting the ring around your ring. It's tight and cramped.

"How's work?" He asks, his eyes roaming around the people behind you, his gaze not falling on you once since the conversation had started.

"Oh it's goo-"

"Cool. So um, here's my key if you need something." He hands you his key, more like shoving it into your chest, before pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead and running off towards the crowd of soldiers that were now practicing drills.

Seems like you've gotten promoted from girlfriend to house-keeper.

By 8 P.M., you and a handful of your colleagues began to go home.

With your 4th cup of caffeine in your hand, you check Simon's text once more.

7:52 P.M. Si:- What time u finish Si:- 8? Si:- Too long to wait, going home

He couldn't wait 8 minutes?

As you trudge past the empty hallway, you're met face to face with the door of the lab, which you notice was half open.

You felt like a character in Alice in Wonderland. Trespassing is a crime, is it not?

A normal person would just inform a staff member and go home right? Definitely wouldn't enter the room. And definitely wouldn't head straight towards the counter that held various labelled test tubes.

Definitely wouldn't snatch a test tube labelled danger, and most definitely stuff it in their bag and run out the door, as if they haven't basically committed a crime.

But it's a good thing you wouldn't consider yourself a normal person.

The wind blows against your skin when you finally make it outside, and it feels like natures punishing you for breaking into the army's laboratory. With your bag clutched tightly against your chest, your mind begins racing - what if someone saw you? What about cameras? What if-

"There you are love. Thought I'd have to come 'n get you myself."

John leans against his range rover, wrapping his large military jacket around your shoulders, and you instantly lean into his towering frame.

"John...didn't you go home?"

He shakes his head. "Saw Simon speeding off the moment we finished, thought you needed a ride, especially at this time."

The wind blows against you again, and your smile falters, remembering the contents of your bag.

"Can we go home now? Please?"

A comforting silence accompanied the drive, with John's palm ghosting your thigh ever so slightly and you had to resist every urge in your body to just lock hands with him.

So you do.

His large hand encompassing yours completely. If his grin could widen anymore, they just did, and you swear you could see faint dimples decorating his cheeks.

But they fall just as quickly, jerking his hand back.

"Nice ring."

You're visibly confused, eyes dragging back to the tight skull band wrapped around your ring finger.

Fuck you, Simon.

When you exit John's car at the entrance of the block of flats, your eyes catch another deep brown pair of menacing eyes, standing at the balcony, hiding behind a black balaclava. You can't see the lower portion of the face, but you'd bet your life that there was a smirk hidden behind the cloth.

You grit your teeth, tossing the ring by the nearest bush as the car drives off. The grip around your bag tightens, and you remember the test tube.

If you're going to ruin my chances of love, I'll ruin your chances of life, Simon Riley.

A week later and the test tube lay aimlessly on your bedside time, alongside a small post card gifted yesterday from your truly. John Price, that is, not Simon.

Leaving soon - If I find something you like, I'll bring it for you :-D - J Price

Even the way he drew his little smiley faces warmed you.

On the other hand, Simon had shot you a single text, ignoring all the spelling mistakes.

Si:- bee home ina mont. by.

When he gets home, you're immediately breaking up with him, assigning yourself mental homework.

But for the meanwhile, you have to decide what to do with the test tube...for now you decide it's too risky to keep it at home, who knows if the wrong people get their hands on it.

So you opt to shoving into deep into your purse.

At work, as you walk back to your team's common room, you hear the commotion coming from the...laboratory?

"Doctor, how careless are you?"

"Sir...I-I-I didn't do anything! The lab was locked, I don't know who would have taken it-"

"And how are we sure you haven't stolen it? I mean for all we know, you might have the drug at home. How do we know you're a traitor and working for the other side. I should have you reported."

"Boss, you've known me for the longest! And why don't you stop shouting me and get these cameras fixed already-"

"Captain Price's gonna flip and fire his entire team when he comes back-"

"If he comes back that is-"

"Boy if you don't shut your mout-"

Scurrying to the common room, you shut the door abruptly. You don't why you stole the drug, but you do know you can't let anyone find out about what you did.

Not Simon.

Not John.

A month had nearly gone by, and a train of gifts has began coming, from small affirmation notes to bags of lego flower bouquets and teddy bears. All of course, accompanied by a small note with the signature smiley face :-D.

Considering the notes weren't hand written, you couldn't tell whether it was from Simon or John, though it was quite obvious. Even though you liked John, you couldn't help but feel some sort of sorrow towards Simon. I mean, who else does he have apart from you?

On a dark Friday evening while you and your team were getting ready to leave, the sound of shouting followed by stampede coursed through the hallway. Screams of terror broke from whom you made out to be doctors and nurses.

"What's happening?" You turn to your coworker.

"More people have gotten drugged, like 7 this time..."

You couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt washing over you, considering a sample of the weapon of the crime was quite literally concealed with your belongings.

"Oh -"

"Apparently, Captain Price and Liutentant Riley were involved."

That was enough to strike a nerve. You don't know which name hit you harder, but before your colleague could even stop you, you began sprinting down the hallway towards the hospital rooms.

By the time you reach though, it's already too late, and the doors have shut, the nurse informing you that surgeries have already begun undergoing. But for who, they didn't disclose.

It didn't matter who it was, you just had a reoccurring thought that if maybe you had left the sample alone, maybe a curve could have already been developed.

Oh God, this is your fault isn't it....?

A person's going to die in your hands, and you're not even a soldier.

With discomfort running through your nerves, you sit by the hospital rooms, your hands feeling heavy under the weight of your head, waiting to hear more from the nurses. But as they rush in and out of the room with urgency, your voice gradually drowns out by the monotonous beeping of the machines inside.

4 hours go by, and you can't tell if it from the lack of sleep or not, but the staff around you shoot you looks of pity as if you're in critical condition. Those hours in the waiting room felt like hell, and you couldn't help but notice the lack security in the building. No cameras again, huh?

"Nurse, is John Price in there?" You ask wearily, the strain in your voice was evident.

The nurse shakes her head, "It's Lieutenant Riley."

Your breath hitches, and unfortunately you can't help but a slight feeling of relief.

"Is he okay? Was he...drugged?"

The nurse clenches her jaw, "That information can't be disclos-"

"He's my boyfriend." You urge, standing up to meet the nurse eye to eye.

The palpable tension in the air was uncomfortable and pervasive, hanging over the room like a heavy fog, and the nurse eventually breaks, slowly opening the door to what looked like a corpse.

"No traces of the drugs were found in his body, but there's no way to really say in the early stages...He is displaying some symptoms however..." She reads off a clipboard.

You nod, though her words aren't really getting to your head, "Like...paralysis?" There's no movement from the bed, just the constant ringing from the machines.

The nurse pauses, "No. Headaches, and muscle pain, just the regular. Bullet shot in the shoulder, but that's been taken care off. We're still monitoring him. I'll be outside if you need anything." With that she leaves, shutting the door behind you. And you find yourself alone with Simon's corpse.

Simon's face looks like broken china, like fine art but damaged externally, yet still holding the essence of its beauty within. His features, usually composed and serene, now bore the cracks of strain and worry. His under eyes were now darker than ever, and you couldn't help but press your now tear soaked lips across his rough cheek, until you stopped.

His neck, though scarred, bore scattered red marks, which you know could be confused with a rash. But it wasn't.

They were hickies.

Fresh hickies.

It's been a month since you've last seen Simon, so you immediately rule out yourself, disregarding the fact that you haven't even been intimate with anyone in a while.

As you sit beside the bed, a surge of anger rises within you, fueled by the betrayal and disappointment coursing through your veins. You want nothing more than to confront Simon, to unleash a torrent of accusatory questions upon him, but you know it would be futile.

His chest rises and falls gently, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you.

The situations looks like that particular scene straight from your dreams. Dark room, alone with Simon, him laying there still.

His body is still intact, you think. Intact and littered with marks.

You try to recall what happens in the dreams after this, but you always wake up at the last second.

And you can't help but inch your hand towards your purse., the outline of the test tube screaming at you to finally use it.

Use it for the reason you had originally stolen it for.

Use me.

Drug him. It screams. It's not like he ever loved you? Francesca, remember her? The other women? Your own mother, your own flesh and blood? Think about the times he forgot your anniversary, your birthday, when he insulted you, in front of you, in front of others, hell, even behind your back! You're spineless remember.

I mean you'd be doing the world a favour, getting rid of this from this world, wouldn't you?

Wouldn't you.

John Price would be proud of you wouldn't he?

He finally be with you.

With a steady hand, you reached into your purse and retrieved the test tube, its contents glinting in the dim light of the hospital room. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, before steeling yourself and uncapping the tube.

The acrid scent of the drug filled the air, its toxic fumes making you gag slightly. But you pushed past the discomfort, focusing all your attention on the task at hand. With precision, you extracted the entire liquid from the tube and carefully poured it into Simon's IV drip, mentally wincing at how effortlessly you had manipulated the situation.

You have to get rid of the drug somehow, and if it means using it against him, then so be it.

The next morning had come and you're awaken by the phone buzzing by your bedside table, the screen lighting up with John's name. You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you finally answer, steeling yourself for whatever news awaits you on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Your voice comes out strained, betraying the anxiety churning within you.

"Hey angel, it's me," John's voice crackles through the phone, the urgency in his tone palpable. "You need to come to the hospital. It's Simon."

Without a word, you hang up the phone and hail a cab, the journey to the hospital passing in a blur of anxious thoughts and racing heartbeat. Did they find out you stole the drugs? No...how could they? The empty test tube is in your bin, at home, not at the hospital and there's no cameras at you recall...

Arriving at the hospital, you're met with a scene of controlled chaos. Doctors and nurses bustle about, their faces tense with worry. You navigate through the maze of corridors, the familiar scent of antiseptic hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, you reach Simon's bedside, and what you see makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Simon manually lies propped up against the pillows, his face pale and drawn, his body racked with violent tremors as he retches into a basin. The sight is enough to make you physically ill, although it slowly dissipates, seeing the now purple marks on his necks darkening.

John appears beside you, and without a word, he takes your hand in his, his grip steady and reassuring, pressing a small kiss at the side of your head. In that fleeting moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

"I'll be outside," he mumbles, leaving with you with Simon.

With a heavy heart, you take a seat beside him. Simon looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion. It takes all your strength to meet his gaze, the truth burning like acid on your tongue.

"Hey." He groans out. He can barely move, as his head painfully cranes to look at you, the effects of the drugs taking effect slowly.

"What happened." But it's more of a demand than a question.

Simon sniffs, "Traces of drugs..."

"No. I meant your neck."

He pauses, like he was trying to carefully choose his words, though he didn't have much of a escape now.

"Don't act like I see you and Price-"

"Don't bring him into this, Simon."

Don't lie to me anymore.

A tear rolls down his cheek, but you can't tell if it's crocodile tears or not.

"They-they... dismissed me."

You hum, a smirk gradually building up on your face.

"Why?"

Simon closes his eyes, "Back. My spine. Can't move it..."

You let out a slow, deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy stone.

"I know." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy in the air between you. "I drugged you."

Simon's eyes wince once again, studying your face silently.

"Excuse me?" He begins.

You stand up, placing your purse back on your shoulder.

"What- what do you mean? You he-heard me? Love. Listen to me-"

You walk towards the door.

"WAIT. Wait. What do you mean you knew? You said you knew. What. What did you do. Sweetheart. Come back. Let's talk. You love me don't you? I love you! Where's that ring I gave you?"

You laugh, twisting the door handle.

"Baby, you better not fuckin' leav- THEY'LL FIND OUT-"

"And who's going to believe a damaged, deluded man, Simon Riley? You were out on a mission, I'll pin the blame on the enemies."

Simon shakes in his bed, unable to control any part of his body now. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME- HOW FUCKIN' DARE YOU- After that life I gave you-"

"Life? You call that living?"

"I LOVED YOU WHEN NO ONE ELSE DID-" His voice is painfully loud now, you're wondering how no one's running to his room already.

"Love? You don't know one thing about love, you fucker."

"I should have never fucked you, you- YOU BITCH-" He shouts, his body flailing violently, globes of tears racing down his clenched jaw and red cheeks.

"Rot in hell Simon Riley, I guess we're both fucking spineless now."

And that's a wrap for this mini seriesss - thank all of you for sticking around ;D IM AWARE IT TOOK SO LONG- I KEPT WRITING IT AND FOR SOME REASON IT DIDN'T AUTOSAVE LIKE TWICE??? SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT- Quick Notes: Let's all be real. We wanted reader to get with ol' john boy. But let's also be for real, if Reader was an object, she'd be a doormat. Although I've implied John Price x You, the bitch really needs to focus on herself and sort her shit out right now 💀 in the near future they're together for sure. ALSO the reference of drugs is highly inaccurate but let's all switch our imaginations on <3 lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyyysho3s

[allllium]

Hey, can I make a Matt x Reader request. Reader is a doctor and lives with Matt one evening Matt comes home with Spiderman who needs help. You become surrogate parents for Peter and think about adopting him since he's a son to both of you anyway.

Peter

~ Sorry this took me so long to get to. I had something written at some point but ended up scraping it ����

~ Fluff, Maybe a little angst bc Peter is hurt at the beginning?

~ WC: 1,536

~ Matt brings home a kid ~

Being with Matt you've learned always to expect the unexpected. Matt has a heart of gold, always doing everything he can to help those in need. It's a good thing you're the same way. You wouldn't be a doctor if you didn't have the urge to help people but sometimes Matt, in your opinion, helps people that don't help him far too often.

However, one thing you didn't expect was for your wonderful boyfriend to come home with a kid. Okay maybe not kid, he's about sixteen years old, but that's still way younger than you or Matt. And way too young to be doing what he does.

When Matt brings home the kid, the first thing you do is freeze for a second. Who is this kid? How did he get hurt? How does Matt know him? Why is he in your apartment bleeding? 

You're quickly pushed out of your thoughts when Matt helps the kid onto the couch and looks to you for help. You immediately jump in, using your doctor skills to the best of your ability. Both he and your boyfriend stay silent the whole time. Matt stays sitting in an armchair to the side, obviously stressed by whatever happened. 

It takes a while to patch up the kid, whose name you still don't know, but as soon as you're finished, he falls asleep on the couch and allows you time to discuss this strange situation with Matt. 

Why is it that he stays silent the whole time you're busy helping the kid but the second you're ready to talk he runs off to the kitchen, not exactly running off as the kitchen is right there, but still?

“Matt. Explain?” You don't know what to say or ask. A million questions are running through your head as you follow him to the kitchen. 

“His name's Peter.” He hesitates to continue. “He's spiderman, that's how he got hurt.” 

“What? He's a child!” How the hell is a teenager Spiderman? 

“Yeah, I know that's why I've been keeping an eye on him.” He says as if it's the most casual thing ever. As if he didn't just bring me a beaten-up sixteen-year-old to fix up. 

“What do you mean keeping an eye on him? Do you listen to him?” You turn back to the living room and collapse in a chair. 

“No, he lives too far away. I just mean that I call him and check up on him.” His voice is quiet, careful not to wake the sleeping kid. “I met him a few weeks ago.” 

“When you were in Queens? Is that why you left?” A couple of weeks ago, Matt spent a few days in Queens for a new client he met. He never said much about it and you never asked. You never wanted to invade his clients' privacy and you weren't sure he could tell you about it anyway. 

“Yeah actually.” He doesn't say anymore and for some reason, you don't ask. Not sure if you want to know the reasons this kid, Peter you now know, could be in danger. You know Matt can handle himself so most of the time you try not to worry yourself but this is a young kid, that you can almost guarantee doesn't have anywhere near the amount of fighting training Matt had. 

After a few hours of making sure he was okay on the couch, and convincing Matt to stay in for the night, you both decide to head to bed. 

You wake up the next morning to loud crashing noises from the kitchen. You automatically know it's not Matt because one he is a terrible cook and two he is still lying in bed with an arm over your waist. So Peter must have woken up from his injury-induced slumber and started cooking because he's hungry? 

You reluctantly throw yourself out of bed. Despite getting plenty of sleep you feel anything but well rested. As you head out of the bedroom you see Peter wearing the old clothes Matt put out for him and trying to cook something in the kitchen. From the smell of it, he's probably not the best cook either.

“Good morning.” You greet him, coming into the kitchen and leaning against the counter. He whips around to look at you in surprise, he clearly doesn't have the same super senses as Matt.

“Oh uh, good morning!” He tries his best to sound cheerful but his voice has an underlying tone of shock and awkwardness. “Sorry for waking you up. I know taking of someone you don't know so late at night isn't the best, so I thought I would make you and Matt some breakfast to try and make up for it. I'm Peter by the end.” You stay silent as he falls into an awkward ramble. 

“Hi Peter I'm y/n. And you don't have to worry about making it up to us, we were happy to help. Plus I deal with this stuff all the time.”

“Right, you're a doctor! Matt told me about that.” He puts down all the stuff he was “cooking” and leans along the counter with you. 

“Oh, he talks about me?” 

“Well, it was that or all the people we've fought as masked superheroes.” He shrugs. 

“Superhero? Aren't you a little young to be fighting like you do?” 

“Maybe but if I can help people why wouldn't I?” 

“You could always be selfish and use your powers for yourself.” You tell him out of both curiosity and the fact that if you had any kind of powers you can't guarantee you would use them to help anyone else.

“Yeah, I guess.” And just like you both stop talking. Waiting in silence for Matt to wake up before you order breakfast.

Peter stayed with you guys for a little over a week while you made sure he was fully healed from his injuries. Before long he was going back home to Queens to whoever he lives with. You know from one brief conversation that his parents are gone, he never said how or who he stays with now but that's not any of your business. 

He comes over almost every week now for dinner, one of the only nights a week you and Matt cook instead of ordering takeout. You have the feeling Matt has imprinted on Peter, kind of like a baby duck. Maybe it's because they’re so similar. They can relate to each other in a way Foggy and Karen can’t. Well, Frank can but he and Matt don’t exactly get along. 

Today is one of the days that he’s gonna be coming over for dinner. You and Matt are in the kitchen making a new pasta dish. 

“So I wanted to ask you a question?” Matt suddenly tells you, while in the middle of stirring the pasta sauce. 

“You know you don't have to ask to ask a question right?” It doesn't matter how many times you say it, Matt will always warn you before asking a question. Most likely because he's worried about bothering you.

He lets out a deep chuckle. “I know, sweetheart, but I'm worried you'll say no.”

“I doubt it. What is it?”

“You know how Peter lives with his aunt right?” He pulls the finished sauce off the stove so he can put his full attention on you.

“I knew he lived some family member, yes. Why?” You’re very curious as to where this is going. 

“Well, she’s getting older and I thought maybe he could come and stay with us for a while.” Not what you expected him to ask.

“Matt, I would say yes to that if I could see how it would work. We don't have the room.” You shrug. You would love to help Peter out but you don’t think he would like living on the couch for at least a year. 

“That’s why I'm asking you. You always know what to do with these things.” If he means the way you freak out thinking of every possible solution and pretend to know what you’re doing then yeah, you are a master at it.

“I don't know, Matty. There is about a year and a half before he goes to college, there is no way he’ll be comfortable here for that long.”

“I know. Believe me, I’ve been thinking of a way this could work. I just don’t want him to be alone.” 

“He won’t be. Even if he can’t live here he’s always welcome.” And just by saying that you come up with the perfect idea. 

A few weeks later it worked. Somehow everything magically fell into place. At the end of your previous conversation about it, you told Matt how great it would be if Peter could have his own apartment close to yours and magically one became available in the same building. Being sixteen, Peter obviously couldn't pay for the place himself but you were able to help out, having some extra money due to being a good doctor. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Matt comes up to you. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Eh, you’re rubbing off on me.” You grumble with a fake annoyance.

[hearts4golbach]

Get the Angles Right!

chapter 3.

pairing:

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

warnings:

none

"Well, good morning, Johnnie." You locked your apartment door. "How was the meeting?"

"long and really fucking boring, obviously." he smiled at you. "How'd you sleep?"

you pressed the button on the elevator. "I couldn't. my mind was flooded with ideas for you. it was crazy. I filled up a third of my notebook."

"I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing." Johnnie laughed.

"I think it's good. who need sleep, anyway?" You smirked, shooting him a wink before stepping out of the elevator. "The first place I wanna show you is right up the street."

"Okay," he hummed as he walked next to you. "Despite all of the nasty shit, New York is really pretty."

"Yeah," you agreed. "I like the aesthetic of it all. it makes me feel more professional, like I'm in a movie. it's good motivation, sometimes."

"I'll have to come back and visit again."

in all honesty, you had forgotten he didn't live here in the first place. your heart ached. you looked away from him as you recollected yourself. "Yeah, you should." You shot him a fake smile and turned your head back towards the path.

you paused before speaking again. "My dream is to open my own store, some day." You looked at the vacant building across the street. "I mean, I'd make less singled out designs. some shit that anyone can walk in and buy, you know?"

he followed your gaze to the building across the street. "What would you name it?"

"probably something a lot cooler than L/n Designs, but you know. I may be creative with fabrics, but not with names." You sighed and laughed at yourself. "Maybe my boring name is why my clothes don't catch people's attention."

he shrugged. "I mean, I don't know jack shit about fashion or the fashion industry, but I'm sure it just takes time like everything else."

"You're right. It does." You took a step closer to him. "You're pretty fashionable for someone who apparently knows nothing about it."

"I kind of just throw together whatever is in my closet." he laughed. "I've been dressing like this since middle school, y/n."

"Me too! I mean, whenever I go out I'm dressed up but 90% of the clothes I wear are pajamas." You pointed towards the shop coming up. "This is it."

"Wait, what even is it? you never told me where we're going." Johnnie squinted in an attempt to read the sign.

"Wow, you put a lot of trust into me. it's a record store. not one of those big corporate shits that only sell today's top pop record vinyls, but you'll see." You cut yourself off, not wanting to spoil it.

he opened the door for you. you thanked him and walked in. "The quote unquote emo section is my favorite. whenever I actually want to buy a record, I always find one of my favorite albums. I'm not sure if everything in this section is actually emo, but, yeah."

you flicked through the selection, finding the 'Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge' album that comes with a red record.

"Oh, shit." Johnnie mumbled as you pulled it out of the selection.

"i know! I'd blast this shit whenever I was younger. to be fair, I still do." you laughed. "I'll have to come back and snag this one in my free time. I don't want to carry it around all day."

Johnnie began looking through the next part of that section. "damn, I really fucking underestimated this place." he pulled out the album 'Pretty. Odd.' by Panic! at the Disco. it was just a normal, black record.

"I love panic! I've never seen pretty odd here before." he handed it to you, and you flipped it towards the back.

he looked at you with a soft smile. he admired your excited facial expression. "yeah, me too." he said softly.

you looked back at him. the eye contact lasted what felt like hours, and it was electric. you shook your head softly. "Uh, yeah. they also have shit like vintage concert posters and tee shirts. of course, they're all expensive as fuck so I've never gone out of my way to get them. they're cool to look at, though."

Johnnie followed you to the back of the store. his eyes were wide as he looked over the countless posters that were hanging on the wall, each one overlapping another. "how does someone even get all of this shit?"

"I don't know, donations or people sell them, I guess." you shrugged.

the twi of you walked around towards the alternative pop section. you and Johnnie reached at the same time. your hand fell on top of his. you hesitated before pulling it away. "God, how many times are we going to do that?" You joked.

he shrugged, his face red. "it's whatever, I don't really mind."

you tried to hide your smile. "Me, either." You flipped through the first few. "Look, melanie martinez. do you know her?" You asked, handing him the 'Cry Baby' album with a baby pink and blue record.

"I've heard of her, yeah. I've never really listened to her, though." he looked at the back. "these song names are sick as fuck, though."

"you should check her out," you mention, putting the record back in its place.

you two left the store. "There's this small cafe across the street. if you're interested, we can stop and get coffee or something. it's on me this time, by the way."

"Yeah, let's go." he smiled

you pressed the button for the crosswalk. the light changed, signaling you to go. you began to step forward before Johnnie grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you watched in shock as a car whipped past you.

"fuck, don't scare me like that, y/n. i can't have you getting hit by a car right in fucking front of me." his hand stayed rested on your arm.

you turned around to look at him. "im sorry. maybe I should pay more attention." You laughed nervously.

"Don't worry about it, just glad you're okay." his hand slid down your arm and gripped your hand. he shook it gently before dropping it.

you carefully crossed the street with Johnnie glued to your side.

whenever you reached the cafe, he held the door open for you. "Thank you. apparently, this place is family owned and shit. it's really good, I go here all the time. I usually get a mocha frappuccino and a croissant. what do you want?"

he walked up to stand beside you and scanned over the menu. "Hot chocolate?"

you hummed, "I've never had it here before. Do you want a croissant, too?"

he nodded. "Yeah, sure."

you instructed him to go pick a seat, and you would order. he walked off, and you walked up to the counter.

"Hi! what can I get started for you?" The woman had a cheerful smile. she was older, probably in her late 50s.

"Can I get two croissants, a hot chocolate, and a mocha frap? both medium, please." You smiled back as you pulled out your card.

"Yes, ma'am. your total is on the screen, swipe whenever you're ready."

you paid the bill. she took your name for the order, and you went back to sit with Johnnie.

"everyone seems really fucking nice here." he mentioned. he looked away from the window to make eye contact with you.

you shrugged. "more or less. it depends where you go. that's why I have my signature spots." You smiled and sat at the seat across from him. "Is everyone a dick in LA or something?"

he shrugged. "People don't really interact with each other, to be honest. but not everyone is like that. it just feels like it's rare to find someone who is actually nice."

"Maybe you're just looking at it the wrong way. everyone is nice in their own way of showing it, or at least that's what my mother used to tell me." you explained. "I always try to see the good in people."

his bright blue eyes were excentuated by the sun. "that's actually a really fucking good way to look at it. damn, I never thought about that."

you shrugged. the woman called your name, and you went to go grab your order. it was on a small tray, which made it easier to carry everything.

you passed Johnnie his hot chocolate and croissant, then took your own. he took a sip of his hot chocolate. the taste made him raise his eyebrows. "this is actually really good. wanna try?"

"yeah, wanna try mine?"

you traded drink and took a sip of eachothers. the hot chocolate was really good.

[thatasadbitch]

𓇽༆𓇽I Want U𓇽༆𓇽

Neteyam Sully x Omatikayan oc/reader

Warning: light smut and Fluff, neteyam and reader are aged up

Wordcount: 1.8K

Charater: I use a name because it's easier for me to write but change it with yours or whatever you want, the character is female, daughter of two strong warriors of the Omatikaya clan, she herself is known for her dowry in battle.

( I accept requests if you have ideas I would love to hear them, I accept requests on Jake sully, Lo'Ak, neteyam, Kiri, Tsireya, aonung and Neytiri, all kinds of stories are welcome ;) write in private or in The comments 💙

and sorry for any grammatical errors but this is not my first language ♥♡

We had grown up in the Metkayina clan by now, I have a nice scar on my shoulder from the battle but I can say that I saved Nateyam from certain death.

Now I'm remembered as the strong warrior with the heart scar, I'm still not too used to the way of fighting of this water clan it doesn't come too natural to me even if according to Ronal and Tsireya I'm an excellent warrior also for this clan.

" how are you?" Tsireya asks gently looking at me from the water and leaning her elbows on the wooden bridge "Me? I don't know if I want to talk about it...Why don't we talk about you and Lo'Ak? Your love problems empty my mind" I say wallowing feet in the clear water next to her "ok...then it's pretty good apart from my mother doesn't agree too much on our relationship as always, she thinks Lo'Ak is reckless and that I should look for a serious man to mate with and marry" she snorts as she floats and looks at the sun kissing her skin " well I've been friends with the Sullies since I can remember and can confirm your mother's words Lo'Ak is reckless and reckless but he's a very good friend as well as I also think a great boyfriend, he's faithful, loyal and tremendously sweet and sensitive more than I want to admit and show" I say smiling softly to my friend "I don't know I wanted you know...to take the next step with him to connect, but my mother does not give me his blessing and not I feel like doing it behind her back I think she would kill me first and then the guilt "I look at her fake shocked" do you want to connect?! Know that after I want to know everything the first time is always crazy" I laugh and she splashes me with water giggling embarrassed " as if you two have never done " shrug " Neteyam and I joined our braids several times but we never we find ourselves too much in agreement on when to take the other step " she looks at me smiling " why don't we talk about you and Neteyam then ?" I roll my eyes and she giggles " I was going to kill him this morning about what Neteyam and I have different visions, he wants to recreate the stability of his family but I'm more of a solitary warrior than a mother of a family" I say throwing myself in the water with her "yes? " she giggles following me " I want to fight, it's my nature I was born for this I'm descended from generations of warriors but I know that sooner or later we should have children and I won't be able to be a warrior anymore like this... well I almost killed myself more than once i sometimes wonder why he chose me as his mate i'm so difficult and on the other hand i'm afraid to disappoint him i'm afraid i'm not worthy of neytiri as a yardstick she's crazy as a mother " she swims around me and laughs " but you want to take that step with him I can see it from your eyes, you two complement each other as Lo'ak and I complement each other, and if you want children you will do something else for a while, you will hunt and I could teach you something about a healer plus it doesn't mean that as soon as you do that you'll get pregnant you're 20 you have time for that you'll be a great mother because it's you you protected your own mate with your life you looked after Tuk and Kiri and thank God you kept an eye on Lo'Ak when or I can't, you're a bit grumpy it's true maybe you love being on your own, but believe me you would give your life for each of the people you care about and with them you change you are a mountain of sugar with them your eyes light up when you look after them to Tuk and when Nete shows you affection, you don't have to be Neytiri, you are you and clearly in everyone's eyes you will be a perfect mother and above all in Neteyam's eyes, he has chosen you as a mate because you are meant to be together and to be also parents together" I snort and go under the water " you know that taking care of isn't for me and yes I can't wait to do it with Nete and I thank you for those words I think they really help me these days, I love you Tsireya " I say with sign language hug her "Ali'iem you will think about it when it happens, continue with your normal life just take that step we all love you and we will be with you forever" we continue to swim and hunt together for a while and then I go back to the my tent with anc now the mind crowded with thoughts.

As I pull my wet hair back I see a red strand in my hair my eyes widen 'will this be a sign of Eywa?' "every day you are more and more beautiful you know that?" I feel Neteyam's delicate hand on my waist while his lips gently rest on my neck and I smile slightly " sorry if I was a bit stubborn and unreasonable with you earlier" I say, turning to look him in the eyes he smiles softly at me " we'll think about it if it happens right?" I smile back, infected by his , before giving me a kiss on the lips "sure" he replies "you know I think Tsireya and Lo'Ak will join for the first time it's a great thing for those two" he chuckles " it's an important step but Lo'Ak is completely crazy about Tsireya I knew he would get there and then she calms him down makes him think a little more and that's good for everyone" he giggles pulling his hair into a ponytail involuntarily showing me his muscles of his back tense, he turns his gaze catching mine passing over him "am I beautiful?" He asks teasing me "beautiful" I say giggling and he approaches me leaving me a few kisses on the corners of my mouth, I put my hands on his chest tracing the darkest signs with my fingers.

It's a moment that Neteyam hugs me more and finally he kisses me on the lips properly and I feel the need to connect with him " Nete..." I call him softly sighing Ali'iem ?" His pupils are wide and he looks at me softly but at the same time a shadow passes through his eyes, I gently stroke his face and I quickly reach his braid stroking it, he smiles and moves it to his shoulder holding it in his hand, I quickly do the same and bring my end closer to his connecting us, a moment of ecstasy that soon leads us to everything else, Neteyam rests his forehead on mine and squeezes my waist gently, I can feel he is holding back a lot he licks his lips, his breath is heavy and then he can't take it anymore and kisses my lips looking into my eyes "Nete let's do it..." I hiss through my teeth looking into his eyes "are you sure? " I nod letting him kiss me passionately, I have no more thoughts if not Neteyam.

He puts me on our 'bed' without ever detaching from me, our tails caress us and it's as if everything came from if we don't think too much concentrated on both our sensations and those of the other, I perceive his ecstasy, his love and his wish .

It doesn't take long that our intimacies are connected giving a feeling and sensations never experienced before, the slow but decisive movements of his pelvis make me feel an intense pressure in my lower abdomen, the deep and hoarse grunts of neteyam do nothing but increase this sensation that makes small noises of pure pleasure come out of my lips.

When his hands squeeze my thighs bringing them higher and resting them on his shoulders making me see the stars with a stronger push than the previous ones, my hands squeeze his back scratching him slightly.

The rhythm of his thrusts doesn't waver and I feel that feeling of pressure inside me about to burst "Nete...I..." I don't have time to say much because that pressure explodes completely making me scream nothing but his name which I he too says my name several times feeling my walls tighten around him, a feeling of burning heat floods me and then moments of silence where only the sound of our breaths makes noise in the air, I see him smiling above me looking at me with slightly tired eyes and a few drops of sweat on his forehead.

From a tender kiss on my leg before letting them both fall snugly around his slim waist, he kisses my lips multiple times before framing my entire face with soft comforting kisses, my legs still shaking.

We don't separate our braids nor our bodies but the guy above me switches positions letting me doze peacefully on his chest, while he watches me rest I hear the rumble of his purr on his chest which also starts mine letting him kiss his chest and her soft lips "hey…Ohe see ngenga and you are the best woman that could happen to me whatever happens I will always be with you" he says moving a strand of hair from my damp forehead, I smile at him tenderly "Ohe see ngenga too, and yes I think you won't get rid of me that easily either.” I rest my chin on his chest as I watch him already fantasizing about something I'll have the pleasure of discovering later.

𓇽༆𓇽

The next morning my legs were screaming in pain but this didn't relieve me of my duties, as always I met Tsireya taking a bath together " Ali'iem you are really slow this morning you won't take anything so" she will try again " Tsireya give me peace my legs they're screaming in pain "she whips her head towards me" you? You? Have you taken the step? You've mated tell me yes please I can't wait to see little puppies of the forest with your big emerald eyes " she takes my hands all too excited " yes yes we did but I don't know yet if I'm pregnant we'll just find out further on " she dives in and caresses my flat belly and I see her gesturing under the water a ' great mother make it a girl ' I giggle seeing her return to the surface " you are impossible you know ? Really embarrassing " she squirts me but whatever happens i can't keep a sincere smile off my face i have no more worries i just want to be with Neteyam forever " anyway me and Lo'ak bonded " i open my mouth in shock as she swims fast away from me“ COME HERE YOU MUST TELL ME EVERYTHING“.

[sammysficfactory]

Gone and Back Again

Clark Kent x blackcoded!reader

tags: angst, hurt/eventual comfort, fluff

summary: clark chose the world over you, and comes to regret his decision.

wc: 4.7k words

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abandonment

notes: bruce wayne cameo🤭, clark is a coward, reader is a MOTHA..NO DRAMA, yes the baby is named jonathan, feedback is welcome

beta reader comments: damn 6 years a secret?? them glasses work wonders

"Clark is that you? Why are you up?" Clark freezes when he hears your sleepy voice. He pushes what looks like a large bag out of your line of sight.

“Go back to bed sweetheart, I’m just going for a drive. I’ll be back in the morning.” Clark walks through the dark and places a kiss on your forehead and your large belly. You nod sleepily.

“Alright, be safe. I love you.” Is all you say before you find yourself drifting off to sleep again. Clark sighs in relief, he never planned on leaving his wife and coming child, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made.

The next morning, you wake up to a cold and empty half of the bed. It seems that Clark hadn’t come back from his late night drive. You don’t think much of it, writing it off as him losing track of time. But when hours start to go by and Clark hasn't returned, you find yourself getting antsy. You pull out your phone and call your husband.

“Come on, pick up..” You murmur, pacing around your living room floor. Clark doesn’t answer, even when you call a second and third time. This wasn’t like him at all, even when Clark was at work he made sure to pick up if you called a second time. You begin making calls, starting with his job.

"Good morning, Daily Planet. May I ask who's calling?" a woman answers.

“This is Y/N Kent, Clark Kent’s wife. Has Clark come in to work today?” You ask, doing your best to keep your voice level. You hear some typing before the woman on the other end answers.

"I've just checked the schedule, and he's not on it...He didn't give any warning either. Did something happen?" You sigh, that was definitely not the answer you were hoping for.

“No, it’s fine. Thank you for letting me know.” You sigh heavily.

“No problem, Mrs. Kent. If anything comes up I’ll call you back.” She replies before hanging up. You make a few more calls, calling some friends to no avail. You pace around the house in a panic, trying to think of places where Clark could possibly be. After a few minutes, you grab your car keys and drive around the city, looking in all of the places you think Clark could possibly be, all to no avail. You sigh, deciding to call your last resort. The only person you know with the resources to find your husband.

"Hello? This is Bruce Wayne..." You sigh in relief when he picks up.

“Bruce, it’s Y/N. Clark is missing.” You cut straight to the point, there was no time for formalities in your mind. You can hear Bruce move around on the phone.

“Are you sure? How do you know?” He asks, not wanting to jump to conclusions just yet, but the panic in your voice was unmistakable.

“Last night he said he was going for a drive and that he’d be back by morning, but he hasn’t shown up. I’ve done everything, I’ve looked everywhere. I even called his job. I don’t know what to do, and I’m starting to panic.” You quickly run through the events, tapping your fingers on your steering wheel as you drive back home.

"It's okay, just calm down. I'll get some people in the area to search for him." He says, trying to ease your worries.

“He said he’d be back by morning. It’s already past noon. What if he’s…” You trail off.

"Hey, hey. Calm down. Let's not jump to conclusions. He'll be alright, trust me. I'm doing everything in my power." Bruce is already setting things in motion, and that much comforts you slightly.

"I'll get in touch with you soon, okay? I gotta go." Bruce hangs up and you walk into your home. You check every corner of the house, every room, closet, and the attic. Nothing. Your phone rings and you pick it up, not caring to check who it is.

“Clark?” You answer nervously.

“Hi, honey.” Your husband’s voice comes through the phone and you sigh in relief. Your worry quickly turns into concern.

“Clark, where the hell are you?! I’ve been worried sick about you!” You exclaim. Clark sighs, his voice tense.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me very closely. Are you in the house?” He asks, his tone tense and urgent. You sense something amiss, so you sit on your couch, listening intently.

“Yeah, I just got back.” You answer, you can feel his distress through the phone.

“I’m gonna tell you something important, you have to listen.” He sounds serious.

“I’m listening, go ahead.” You hear Clark go silent for a few moments, creating a tense and thick silence before speaking up again.

“I’m…Superman.” He confesses. You’re silent with disbelief before you reply.

“Clark, do not lie to me right now. I swear on everything holy if you’re lying to me-” You warn before your husband cuts you off.

“Y/N, I'm not lying! I always wanted to tell you, but I was scared..." Clark was telling the truth, and he can't deny the hurt he was about to cause you.

“I…Clark. This is a lot.” You sigh.

"Look, I know this is too much, I'm sorry, I wish I told you earlier. I just... couldn't say it. How do you expect someone to say -‘hey, I'm Superman’ to someone they love." Clark remarks.

“Clark, we’ve been together for six years, and we’ve been married for three of them. You’re telling me that you couldn’t have told me before?” You feel yourself growing angry and frustrated.

"I never wanted to keep secrets from you, I just didn’t know how to tell you." All Clark feels is guilt and shame.

"I love you, Y/N..."

“Clark, just come home.” Your voice wavers, for the first time the entire day you can feel yourself about to cry.

"I want to, more than anything..." Clark's heart hurts when he hears how distraught you are.

"It's not that simple, Y/N. If I come back, I'm putting you in danger..." He tries to sound reasonable, but he can feel his own resolve weakening.

“Clark, honey, please. I can’t do this on my own. We’re about to have a baby! You can’t just leave.” You plead over the phone. Clark's eyes start to well up as he hears you beg him to return. He hates hurting you.

"I have to keep you and the baby safe." He'd do anything to be with you... and yet, his fears still dominate him.

“We can still be together, we can still be a family.” You try to appeal to him through your tears.

"You don't understand." Clark can't control it as the hurt and guilt comes out as anger.

"I can't be with you or the baby. The world needs Superman. It's my responsibility." He immediately regrets his tone as soon as he finishes his sentence.

“Clark…” Is all you can manage to say, hurt and shocked by his tone. Clark takes a deep breath.

"Y/N, let me explain. I love you. I don't just love you, I’m in love with you. It's taken me a long time to know who I am... but this I know. I know I love you, Y/N. But the world needs me." The honesty in his voice catches you off guard.

"I was afraid of what you would think. I was afraid of hurting you by telling you. But, I had to tell you the truth. I couldn’t keep lying to you." His voice is as pained as his expression that you don’t see.

“How am I gonna take care of the baby when it grows up? What if it has powers like you do? Clark, I can’t do this on my own.” You sob.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. But the truth is I can't be with you. You and the baby deserve better than me. This is the kind of choice that comes with having the powers I do." The shame he feels is overwhelming. Clark can't believe what he says. He never meant for this to happen, but here he is, tearing his own home apart...all for the greater good.

"It's not your fault. I swear. You're amazing. I just... I can't do this." He hangs up the phone and you sob. The “greater good” had just ripped the love of your life out of your hands, and the crushing weight of having to give birth and raise a baby alone felt almost too much to bear. Your vision blurred by tears, you call Bruce to give him the news.

“Did something happen?” Bruce asks, but when he hears your soft cries he knows the news he’s about to receive isn’t good.

“You can call off the search, he told me everything. He told me that he’s Superman, and that he’s not coming back.” You feel yourself unravel the longer you have to speak. Bruce sighs.

“So he told you.” Is all he says in response.

“You knew?” You ask, feeling angry. Bruce takes a breath as he figures out how to explain his knowledge.

“I did know. I’m Batman, so we work together often.” He confesses, guilt and sympathy translating through his tone. You’re silent save for the occasional sniffle or hitch of your breath.

"Are you going to be okay?" There's a pause, no response from you.

"Y/N?" he calls for you.

“I don’t know. I’m eight months pregnant with a baby that might get superpowers when it gets older, and the only person who can help them won’t be there.” You exhale shakily, feeling absolutely helpless at the moment.

“Y/N…” Is all he says.

“I don’t know if I can do this…” You reveal weakly.

"Y/N, you're strong and you can do this. I know you can." Bruce tries to stay positive, but his encouragement is unconvincing. He can't help but worry for you and your baby.

"Can you... just tell me you'll be okay?" Bruce asks you, wanting you to hear yourself say it. You stay silent, not really believing him but decide to oblige him anyway.

“I’ll…be okay.” You say, your confidence wavering at best. You can hear his small smile over the phone.

“That’s right, you’ll be perfectly okay." Bruce's tone is filled with confidence once again, even if his heart is worried for you. He knows it's not going to be easy, but he knows that you’re stronger than your doubts are trying to convince you are.

"If you need anything, call me. Okay? I'll do whatever I can to help. You're not alone in this." Bruce reminds you, but it goes in one ear and out of the other. You can’t help but feel completely and utterly alone.

“Thank you, Bruce. Thank you for being a good friend.” You sniffle, giving him a satisfying enough answer.

“Always.” Bruce replies before hanging up, leaving you alone in your home.

After Clark left, you decided to focus all of your energy on giving birth and working to raise your son. The years have passed and your son has grown.

You shop around with your five year old Jonathan, your hand in his small one. His face looks just like Clark, with jet black hair and large, kind eyes. Jonathan is bouncing with energy, he seems as excited as a five year old can get.

“Jonathan, you can’t bounce around too much in the store. You might knock something over and hurt yourself.” You warn your son lightly, but your tone is firm.

"Sorry, mommy." Jonathan says with an apologetic shrug. As you walk through the aisle, your eyes settle on a familiar tall figure. You hope Clark doesn't see you, but it appears he already has. Clark stops at the shelf next to the two of you. He notices you and Jonathan, and he can feel the tension.

"Hello, Y/N." Clark's quiet and polite greeting punches you straight in the gut. The realization of his presence happens all too quickly.

He's right in front of you.

And it's surreal.

Clark looks just as handsome as you remember him, his eyes still full of kindness and joy. Your heart races as you look away, and you aren’t sure if it’s out of anger or love.

“Clark.” You greet him curtly, bitterness rearing its ugly head and making itself known. Clark's eyes search yours, looking for even a sliver of love.

"Y/N, I missed you..." He's holding back. It's a struggle.

"I know it's been a long time, and I've hurt you... But I need you." He starts.

"I want to try again. I want to be with you, I want to be with my family. I made a mistake, and I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you." He looks at you, his eyes full of regret. You look away from Clark, diverting your attention to your son.

“Jonathan, go choose a cereal. Mommy will be watching from right here.” You suggest to your son. Jonathan nods and runs a little further down the aisle and you turn back to Clark.

“It’s been five years, Clark. I gave birth in that delivery room alone when you were supposed to be there. You missed every milestone, and left me alone to take care of our child.” You say calmly, but there’s an unmistakable edge in your voce.

"You're right. But I just wanted to protect you, I wanted to keep you and Jonathan safe. I was scared that if I was here with the two of you, it would’ve put you in danger. If something would’ve happened to you, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself." Clark looks at you. He can't bear to see you like this, to see your broken heart on display, showing him just how much pain he had caused.

"I made a mistake, I know... but I love you. I want to make this right. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I didn’t regret leaving you and our son behind. You and Jonathan, you're the people I want to wake up beside. Please, just let me make this right." He pleads.

“You don’t think I was scared? You don’t think that every night that I was pregnant with your baby, I was scared? When you left, I had no one to rely on except for myself. I was supposed to bring that little boy into this world with you by my side, but you abandoned us.” You clench your jaw, doing your best to stay quiet and not make a scene.

“You chose the world over your wife, and you chose the world over your son, I’m not giving you the chance to do it again.” You poke his chest angrily, and you can see Clark’s heart break right in front of you. It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would, even after all that time you still hated seeing him hurt. Clark watches you in your quiet fury, his eyes searching yours.

"Y/N. I messed up... I know." His eyes are wide, his voice is desperate.

"I'm terrified I'll lose you again. I'm terrified this is my last chance. That I won't get another." His heart is tearing in two, he wants his family back.

"Y/N, please... for Jonathan." Clark is trying to be strong, to be better... and it's breaking him to see you so upset.

“You lost me when you left, Clark. But your son deserves to have a father, so I’ll allow you that. Come over Saturday afternoon so I can properly introduce you to him. I still live in our house, so you know where to find me.” You brush past Clark, wiping a tear away when you walk to Jonathan.

It's a small step, but Clark knows that everything has to start somewhere. He watches you walk away with his son, and he knows that he can't lose you again. He needs to prove himself and make it right.

Time passes, and Saturday arrives. He can't stop himself, he knocks on the door. There's a tension and Clark's heart is racing. He wants everything back... to be with the woman he loves and the child that needs him.

A few moments later, you answer the door.

“Hey.” You greet him.

"Hi." he replies awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck.

"May I come in?" You nod.

“Yeah, come in. I’ll grab Jonathan from upstairs.” You usher him inside before calling Jonathan from the bottom of the stairs. Jonathan all but runs down the steps. When he sees Clark, Jonathan hides behind your legs as you introduce them to each other.

“Jonathan, this is your dad.” You say, trying to coax your son from behind you. Clark waves at him, but doesn’t say anything.

“Can you say hi to your dad, Jonathan?” You ask, squatting down to Jonathan’s height, trying to reassure him that everything was okay.

"Hi..." Jonathan's voice is shaking, he's frightened by the strange man. He slowly moves out from behind your legs and stands in front of you. You keep your hand on his shoulder to remind him that you’re right behind him, and that he doesn’t have to worry.

“He looks just like you, Jonathan. You two have the same hair, same smile, same eyes.” You continue to try and help Jonathan warm up to Clark. Your son steps out a little more and looks up at Clark, shuffling his feet out of nervousness. He sees the similarities between him and his father and decides to take a step closer.

“Do you want to give your dad a hug?” You ask Jonathan, noticing how Clark desperately wants to hold him. Clark has never seen Jonathan until that day in the grocery store, and wants to immediately start making up for lost time.

"Umm..." Jonathan looks between his mother and his father and hesitates. It's all new and scary to him, and understandably so. He walks towards Clark and puts his arms out. It's the first hug of many to come for Clark and Jonathan. Clark's heart nearly explodes from affection, he has been waiting for this forever. He holds onto Jonathan tight, not wanting to ever let go.

You smile at the image before you, but can’t help the pang of sadness that hits you when you think about the day he left. Jonathan and Clark look happy, hugging each other tightly.

"Jonathan..." Clark holds him tight, and vows to himself that he'll never miss another day, another moment of his son's life.

"Y/N, I love you. I'm so sorry for leaving you. I love you." He says to you, still holding onto his son tight. You struggle to find what you want to say, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish.

"Tell me what you’re feeling, Y/N." Clark says quietly. He's still holding onto Jonathan tight, but he doesn't want you to be upset with him. He feels his heart breaking, as you seem unable to speak. He knows he hurt you. He's so desperate to make it right.

“We need to talk in private then.” You reply, not wanting Jonathan to hear you say anything bad about Clark. You send Jonathan upstairs to his room.

"Okay, Y/N." Clark's anxiety is building, he knows you still have a lot of anger toward him. He knows he deserves that. However, he wants to fix all the problems the two of you have. He loves you, and he wants you back.

"Talk to me." He says gently. You sigh, sitting in a nearby chair, gesturing for Clark to do the same.

“I don’t have a problem with you spending time with Jonathan, but I’m not sure if I can get into a relationship with you again.” You admit.

"Y/N, I made a huge mistake. But I swear to you that I won't ever leave again." Clark's voice is desperate and longing, he wants just one more chance. He wants to be the best he can, by being a father and now a husband.

"Jonathan needs us, he needs his mom and his dad." Clark's voice has a pleading in it, all he wants is for his family to be together.

"Y/N, let's give it a chance. Just one chance." He implores.

“How do I know that, Clark? How do I know that when shit gets tough, you won’t just up and leave? I went through that, and I don’t want Jonathan to go through it too.” You ask. Clark winces, he knows that your fears are valid, but he can’t help but get hurt by your tone.

"You can't know, I guess." He's being honest with you.

"But I want to prove to you... to Jonathan... that I’ve changed." Clark's eyes still have that same desperate pleading in them.

"Please Y/N, you don't understand how much I regret what I did." He holds onto your eyes, willing you to believe him.

"And I will never leave Jonathan... I promise. Never again." You shake your head.

“Clark, you don’t understand. When you left, I was so alone. I was so scared. I had to give birth alone. When the doctors and nurses asked where you were, I couldn’t give them an answer. When Jonathan started school last year, he started seeing other kids with their dads. Do you know what he asked me? He asked me where his dad was, and I couldn’t give him an answer.” You tell him everything you had been feeling up to this point, the weight of it being lifted from you as you speak. Clark can feel his heart breaking as you tell him about your struggles. He didn't realize how the decision he made affected you and your son.

"Y/N, honey, I'm so sorry. I should have been there for you... for Jonathan. Please, give me... give us a chance." His voice is genuine, filled with regret and pain.

“It took you five years, Clark. I wanna give us another try, but how do I know you won’t leave?” Your eyes well up with tears as you speak, your once firm voice beginning to waver.

"You can't know... You can't know if I'll ever leave again. But what I can promise you is that I won't give up. I won't give up on you, and I won't give up on Jonathan." Clark holds onto your hands, his voice filled with love and compassion.

"Please Y/N, just... just give us another chance." He wants you back, he needs you back. He can't cope without you.

“If I do this…you have to promise me that you won’t run. That you won’t run away when stuff gets stressful.” You sniffle.

"I give you my word, Y/N." Clark's voice is filled with sincerity and determination.

"I'll never run away, not again. The one time that I did it... I destroyed everything. I won't ever do it again." He looks at you longingly, he knows that he needs you. He needs your love, your warmth, your affection. He can't live without you.

"Please, Y/N. Please give us another chance. I'll do anything.” You stay silent for some time, trying to figure out how you feel.

“Okay.” You nod hesitantly. Clark immediately wraps his arms around you in a gentle hug, he's been yearning for this moment for years. He holds you tight, unwilling to let go.

"Y/N, I love you so much. I love you. I love you." A tear rolls down his face as he holds onto you, the pain and fear, the regret and hurt, it all subsides in an instant.

"I love you." He repeats. He'll never run again. He holds onto you, his hand rubbing your back.

"I can't believe I put us in this position, Y/N. I was stupid. But I won't let it happen again. We have to be there for each other, Y/N. We have to communicate. We have to trust each other to share our fears." He smiles, you’re finally back in his life.

"I'm going to spend every day making it up to both of you." He promises you.

“Let’s start slow. I don’t want to change Jonathan’s life anymore than I already have with you meeting him.” You suggest. Clark nods in agreement.

"Of course, Jonathan is still so little, and this is a big change. Slow and steady, that's how I'll repair everything." He kisses the top of your head.

"Jonathan deserves to have a mother and a father. Let's work together to give him the best life possible." He's happy because you’re back in his life. The pain, the tears, the sleepless nights, they're all over. It's time for a new start, he can't imagine himself being with anyone else but you.

"I don't want to push too hard... and I want to earn your trust back. It's all about you and Jonathan, all of... this." He points to you, then to himself, then to Jonathan's room.

"Jonathan is going to be so happy when he sees all of us together. He needs a family Y/N... and I’m ready to give that to him." Clark pulls back from the hug, looking you in the eyes as he makes this promise. You place your hands on his broad chest, looking up at him and allowing yourself to relish in the familiar and comfortable hold of Clark.

“Can I…kiss you, Y/N?” Clark asks, this is all still fresh and he doesn’t want to move too fast, but he can’t help the urge to press his lips to yours.

“Yeah, you can.” You nod, feeling Clark lift your chin gently and bring your lips to his. The kiss doesn’t feel like fireworks or explosions like you’d expect it to. It feels more like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a fire, like sleeping after days of insomnia, or finding water after walking through a desert for an excruciating amount of time. You don’t understand why, until you realize it. When you kiss Clark, you’re finally giving yourself the love you had been deprived of for so long. The two of you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Thank you. For all of this.” Clark smiles breathlessly at you. You nod.

“Don’t make me regret this, Clark.” You warn, holding his face in your hands.

It’s been about a year since your reconnection and ultimately rekindled romance with Clark, and he hasn’t let you down. He’s done everything he can to prove just how willing he is to stay with you and Jonathan. He’s been by your side as much as he can, occasionally stepping away for his heroic duties, but making sure not to miss any milestones.

“Daddy, mommy, look at me!” Jonathan does a flip on his trampoline as you and Clark watch him from your back porch. You and your not-really-but-still-legal husband smile in amusement.

“Be careful, buddy. Don’t hurt yourself, your mother already told you to be careful.” Clark warns, and Jonathan nods. You look at Clark impressed.

“Okay, Mr. I-mean-business. You need to do that more often.” You chuckle as Clark rolls his eyes playfully, pressing a quick kiss to your lips with a smile.

“Whatever. I reprimand Jonathan when I feel he needs it.” He tries to justify himself, but you give him a knowing look.

“Clark, please. Jonathan has you wrapped around his finger.” You snort, and he looks away sheepishly. Clark spoils your son, especially recently after Jonathan’s powers began to show up. Clark has been helping Jonathan control his newfound powers, especially his enhanced strength. Just a few days ago, Clark had to talk Jonathan down from pulling the kitchen door off the hinges after you told him he couldn’t eat ice cream for dinner.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately, honey?” You ask Clark. He shakes his head, looking at you.

“What?” You take his hand in yours.

“I guess you did choose us in the end, just not in the way we would’ve wanted. You chose to save the world, and technically Jonathan and I are part of that world.” You answer, rubbing his knuckles as you’re deep in thought.

“You’re right. But I like this choice best, don’t you agree?” Clark tilts his head slightly. You nod.

“Yeah, this is definitely the better option.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.4

Hii guyss, I'm so happy that Franco and Ollie were able to win some points today :) If you've missed part 3 here it is.

- Austrian Grand Prix 2023 -

The days leading up to Sunday are a whirlwind of activity at the Austrian Grand Prix. Although you don't get to see Franco or Oliver in person, you and Franco haven't stopped messaging each other. Every free moment you get, your phone buzzes with a new text from him. Each message is friendlier, funnier, and sometimes even a little flirty, making your heart race with excitement.

The playful banter continues over the next few days, filled with inside jokes, teasing, and a growing connection that feels deeper with every exchange. You find yourself smiling whenever you see his name pop up on your screen, your stomach fluttering with anticipation each time.

By Sunday morning, the excitement in the air is palpable. It's race day, and the paddock is alive with energy. You make your way to the F2 and F3 paddock, eager to wish Franco good luck before his race. As you approach his garage, you see him standing with a few of his team members, going over last-minute strategies.

Spotting you, Franco's face lights up, and he quickly excuses himself, making his way over to you. "Y/N!" he exclaims, looking genuinely happy to see you. "You made it!" "Of course," you say with a smile. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." He grins, his eyes twinkling with that familiar playful glint. "I'm glad. I need all the luck I can get." You roll your eyes, laughing. "Like you need luck. You're going to do amazing, I just know it." Franco steps closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot to have you here. Really." You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at the sincerity in his voice. "I'm happy to be here," you say softly. "And I'll be cheering for you the whole time." A mischievous smile tugs at Franco's lips. "Just cheering? Not throwing roses onto the track when I win?" You laugh, shaking your head. "No promises. But I might consider it." He chuckles, reaching out to lightly touch your arm. "I'll hold you to that."

The two of you stand there for a moment, the noise and chaos of the paddock fading into the background. You can feel the warmth of his hand on your arm, the closeness of him sending your heart racing.

"Well, I should let you get back to your team," you say, reluctantly stepping back. "Don't want to distract you too much." "Too late for that," Franco teases, his smile widening. "But seriously, thank you for coming by. It really does mean a lot." You nod, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Good luck, Franco. You're going to do great."

Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean in and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. It's a small gesture, but the moment your lips touch his skin, you feel a spark of something electric pass between you. Franco's eyes widen in surprise, his cheeks flushing a deep red. For a split second, he looks almost stunned, and then a slow, delighted grin spreads across his face. "I think that's the best good luck charm I've ever gotten," he says, looking at you with a new intensity. You laugh, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "Just win the race, Franco." "I'll do my best," he promises, his gaze still locked on yours. "Especially now that I have something to win for." You give him one last smile before turning to leave, your heart pounding in your chest.

You head to the paddock to watch the F3 race. The atmosphere is electric, with engines roaring and fans cheering. You find a good spot, eager to see how Franco will perform.

The race is intense, and you watch Franco skillfully navigate the track. He pushes hard, climbing up the positions, but ultimately finishes fourth, just shy of a podium. You feel a mix of pride and a bit of disappointment for him, knowing he gave it his all.

As the F3 cars leave the track, you decide to stick around and watch the F2 race. You're waiting near the paddock, lost in thought about Franco's performance when you spot Oliver walking toward you. He's in his racing gear, looking focused but cheerful.

"Y/N!" Oliver calls out, smiling as he approaches. "Didn't expect to see you here." "Hey, Oliver!" you reply, matching his smile. "I was just watching the F3 race. Franco did pretty well." Oliver's expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he quickly recovers. "Yeah, I heard it was a good race," he says with a polite nod. "How do you know Franco?" "Oh, we met in the paddock in Barcelona," you explain, keeping your tone casual. "We've kept in touch since then." Oliver raises an eyebrow, curious. "So, are you two friends?" You hesitate, not entirely sure how to define your relationship with Franco. "I guess… yeah, we're friends," you say, though the uncertainty in your voice is hard to miss. "Or something like that." Oliver smiles, sensing your hesitation. "Sounds complicated," he teases gently, his tone light. You laugh softly, relieved by his playful approach. "Maybe a little." "Well, I'm glad you're here," Oliver says sincerely, his eyes meeting yours. "It's nice to have someone rooting for me." "Of course," you reply, feeling your cheeks warm. "I'm sure you'll do great out there." Oliver's smile widens, his eyes brightening. "Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot." He glances back at his team, who are busy preparing for the race. "I should probably get ready, but I'll see you after?" "Yeah, I'll be here," you promise, giving him an encouraging smile. "Good luck, Oliver." "Thanks," he says, flashing you one last grin before heading back to his team.

As you watch him walk away, Oliver's question lingers in your mind. Are you just friends? You can't help but wonder where you truly stand with both Franco and Oliver. Is this the beginning of a friendship with each of them, or is there something more beneath the surface? The uncertainty leaves you questioning your feelings and what this weekend might reveal.

Here's part 5

[philokaliist]

'Lovely'

Clarisse La Rue x Chubby!Fem!Reader hc's

A/N:ILYYY & more hc's soon 💞

So I feel like Clarisse would totally have this tough exterior, but deep down, she's a total softie for her girlfriend, like AHAHSHDH, who would've thought?

I feel like she would always deny being all mushy, but secretly, she's the kind of person who low-key gets jealous if someone else talks to her girl.Like, "Back off, she's mine!" vibes,you know?

She deff calls you names, like "mama/mamas" or "dummy" but in a playful way.

I feel like Clarisse would totally drag her girl into training sessions, being all like, "We gotta stay sharp,mamas. Can't have you getting soft on me." But deep down, it's just an excuse to spend more time together.

But imagine Clarisse getting protective during Capture the Flag.Like, she's a total beast on the battlefield, and if anyone even thinks about targeting her chubby girlfriend, they better watch out. "Touch her, and you'll regret it, losers."

She deff calls you... "Her Battle Buddy" or something like that. I mean, come on, it's Clarisse – everything is a battle, even love.

She deff has a secret stash of cute couple photos in her cabin, but she'll flat-out deny it if anyone asks. "What? No way. That's not mine." But like, you catch her looking at them when she thinks no one's around.

I feel like Clarisse would totally surprise her girl with handmade weapons, pretending like it's just another day. "Yeah, I was bored, so I made you this dagger. Don't get all sappy about it."

Honestly,I feel like she would have this thing where she insists on being the big spoon, but she'd grumble about it like, "Ugh, fine. You're lucky I even like holding you." But secretly, she loves it.

I feel like Clarisse would totally get all flustered if someone teased her about her girlfriend, but she'd cover it up with her tough-girl act. "Shut up! She's not that great. Stop looking at me like that."

OMG, she'd be the first to defend her girl,like if someone makes a comment about her weight, Clarisse would go full-on rage mode. "Say that again, and I'll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life!" And she'd obviously kick their ass into next week.

She deff has a special spot by the campfire where she and her girlfriend hang out, but she'd deny having a "spot." "We just sit here 'cause it's not too crowded. It's not a spot or anything."

I feel like Clarisse would totally steal her girl's hoodies and act like it's just because she's cold. "You got too many of these things, might as well put 'em to good use." But deep down, she loves the scent of her on the hoodie.

OMG, she'd have this signature eye-roll whenever someone tries to give relationship advice. "Please, I've got this under control. I don't need your sappy wisdom." But secretly, she low-key appreciates the advice.

She deff has a playlist of love songs hidden away, but if anyone finds out, she'd be like, "What? No way, those songs just happened to be on when I was training!" But you catch her humming them sometimes.

I feel like Clarisse would totally take her girl on surprise late-night walks around camp, acting like it's just to check on security. "Gotta make sure no monsters are sneaking in." But really, it's just about spending time together.

DHSKDJ, imagine Clarisse accidentally leaving little notes with cheesy messages around her girlfriend's bunk. "Just happened to drop this here. Don't read too much into it." But she secretly hopes her girl finds and appreciates them.

She definitely uses you as weigh when training and shows off how strong she is and if you tell her you think you're too heavy for her she'd be all like "Shut up,idiot!You're a lightweight comparing to what I usually lift!" But she'd secretly try to make you feel better about yourself.

She 100% uses your chest or your thighs as pillows when sleeping,and she enjoys wrapping her arms around your waist and stomach.It gives her a nice feeling and she would get all pissy in the morning if you left during the night or moved away.She just loves her hugs and cuddles! Besides,you'd be her fav pillow.

A/N:Honestly I feel like Clarisse would deff be like 'the bigger,the better' and she'd love you no matter what size you are 🥹

[upsidedownmvnson]

the challenge | eddie munson

warnings: angst, hurt, kinda eddies pov, stupid long & tropey, barely edited

AN: i just love the angst sorry :) also this is the worst trope ever but I LOVE IT. I eat it up. also i know i overuse italics its my fatal flaw. willing to do requests & taglists btw <3

i'm not sure how many words per se but it looks really long so

"I'll give you a hundred bucks if you can get any of the cheerleaders to go on a date with you."

After band practice, the conversation had devolved into who had school the band thought was hot.

"Please," Eddie tried to scoff off the idea. "When has that idea ever gone well?"

"I'll also give you a hundred," Jeff said, adding to the fire. They probably didn't expect him to go for it. But he could use two hundred bucks...

Eddie rolled the idea around in his mind. Who would he even ask? There was Chrissy Cunningham, she's sweet... but he was pretty sure she was dating Jason, and the last thing Eddie needed was more problems from that guy. But there was you.

You were different. You were still a cheerleader at Hawkins, sitting with the populars and shaking your pom-poms at every game. But you smiled at Eddie in the hall sometimes. And he'd noticed you'll talk to anyone. You weren't mean. So he could probably charm his way into one little date, and then after the date inevitably goes terribly, he'll collect his easy money and you will go on, blissfully unaware.

It's not like you guys would get along or anything.

"What happens if I lose?" Eddie asked.

"You have to put on an embarassing show in the cafeteria," Jeff said. "And easy one."

"Okay," Eddie said after a long silence, "I'll take your money."

The next day at school, Eddie was sitting on the stairs across from your locker like a predator. It was still forty minutes until first bell, so there were very few people in the halls. He had this whole plan in mind. First, he'd wow you with his natural charm, and then leave you lingering in mystery. Easier said than done, when you came walking down the hallway with a skip in your step and a smile on your face.

It made him feel guilty about this whole thing. But you would never know, so what was the harm?

He approached you slowly, slowly panicking about the idea of bothering you. What if you told the basketball team he was bothering you? What if you acted like he grabbed you, or something...

He fears were cut off by you casually saying, "Hey Eddie."

You knew his name? Why did it sound so nice coming from you?

It's because secretly you were always aware of Eddie. There was something about him that always held your attention. After seeing him for a days, you'd become a closeted metal fan. It started to impress him, but you actually did start to like it. You'd always tried to catch his eye, but it was like he didn't really see you.

"Hey, morning," he said, mind focused on his objective. But it was harder when actually looking down at you. You were pretty cute. You had beautiful eyes.

"Good morning," you said, pleasantly confused at the situation. You noticed Eddie had gotten up when you got closer. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Oh, ha, you noticed that," he said, grabbing your locker door as you opened it, and leaned on it, unintentionally making a show of his hand gripping the edge of the locker.

You felt a flutter in your chest, "Well, what can I do for you?"

"I've seen you here early before," Eddie mused, as if he'd ever been here early, but he had his intel. "Thought I could give you a little company."

"That's sweet," you said, smiling like you were hiding a laugh. "I've never seen you around before class. Only coming in late."

"I'm shocked at such an accusation," he said, leaning closer. "It hurts to believe you think so lowly of me." There was a level of teasing in his tone that made butterflies erupt within you.

"You know," you started, "I was supposed to go see Halloween 3 tonight but my girlfriends chickened out..."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well I still want to go," you said. You couldn't hint anymore if you tried. "Are you looking for company tonight?"

"What?" Eddie couldn't mask his surprise. He was supposed to come over here and charm you into a date, but... you asked him?? "Uh yeah, I can take you to the movies."

"What time is your club done? We can go after that," you said, smiling. You were just trying to be considerate, but you were making Eddie weak in the knees. Were you really this aware of him? If anything, he was wondering why you cared more than how you knew.

"I'll see when the late shows plays and make sure we'll be there," he said, "just give me your address, I'll pick you up."

The blush on your cheeks made him smile, but the gentle touch of your hand as you grabbed his arm and pushed the sleeve up, using a marker to write down the street and and number. Eddie was totally at your mercy by this point, but you just had to make worse by bringing his arm up to your face to kiss what you'd written, looking up at him with the devil in your eye.

"Kiss from a maiden has to boost luck, right?"

Suddenly, the terms of the game changed. You asked him out. It was not what he expected. He expected it would take several days before he finally asked you out. He had this whole plan in his mind, and you just... you kissed him on the arm, like it was a normal thing for you to do to him. Now he didn't really want the money, he just wanted you to that again. Feel your soft touch. Anything that would put that look back into your eye.

Everyone at Hellfire could see that Eddie was distracted. His campaign was nothing less than infallible as per usual, but his theatrics were toned down, and he was fumbling over the dice as if he wasn't always paying total attention.

After the session, Jeff and Gareth hung around. Mainly to check on their friend.

"I have to go," Eddie said, fumbling with his bag. He didn't want to tell the guys about you. He didn't want to pop the fantasy of having you all to himself. Not yet.

Eddie still had it in his mind that the date would flop. What chance did he have to impress someone like you? This whole situation was spiralling quickly. And he fucking knew better than to take a stupid bet issued at midnight after a bunch of beers. He should've called it off right there, he should've said it's stupid and objectifying the cheerleaders and that was mean, but he said nothing. He just packed his things, and told his friends he'd see them later.

He didn't have time to go change, he didn't want you to miss your movie because of him. And he was just really anxious to see you again. There was a small part of his brain, a little nagging brain cell, telling him that maybe... just maybe, this date will go well and he can get you to look at him with a sparkle in your eyes.

Your house was right in the middle of suburbia, which had Eddie losing his cool slowly. You were different, and he knew that already, but it was a comfort to remind himself as he drove passed identical, picket fenced houses. Your house was no different. Picket fence, flowers in the window sill, green grass mowed to the same height.

He parked the van and got out, walking through the gate and up the short cobblestone path leading up to your front door. He brought a knuckle up to your door, tapping lightly twice. Maybe you would bail and he wouldn't have to be the bad guy anymore. He looked at the flowers beside the house, and mentally kicked himself for not bringing you anything for you. You deserved flowers.

But you were there, waiting to answer the door a few moments after he knocked. You had counted to ten in your head before he answered, not wanting to seem too keen.

"Hey," you said, dazzling him again with an innocent smile. His voice was stuck in his throat as he looked at you. Eddie hadn't expected your cheerleading outfit or anything... but what didn't expect was a cropped Slayer shirt. It looked like you had cut it yourself, but he couldn't let himself get caught staring at the frayed edges, because that's where the exposed skin was, tempting him to look. Or worse, tempting him to reach out, running his calloused fingers over the skin that looked painfully soft.

"Hey," he say quietly, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. How had he managed to fuck this up before talking to you for the first time? "Sorry I didn't get flowers or change or do anything all at to impress you. I kinda rushed right from school."

"You want to impress me?"

Eddie's mind was reeling. "Is there anyone out there who doesn't?"

You giggled, and Eddie didn't think he could take it anymore. If he just spilled his guts right now, he could stop himself a world of confusion. After this, he'd probably be stuck with the image of you for weeks. He's probably caused him heartache and pain when this doesn't work out. Or... worse... it does work out and one of his idiot friends tells you how this started, and then he was still heartbroken and fucked.

Eddie said nothing as he led you to the van.

On the way to the movies it was quiet, but not uncomfortable. You asked him about his day, which made him blush because, it's a simple that people never really asked him. Especially beautiful cheerleaders.

He didn't know how he was supposed to forget this. How could he continue to drive Jeff and Gareth around while he's seen you in his passenger seat... with a Slayer shirt on.

"Can I pick something?" you asked, finding a small stash of cassettes under the seat.

"Sure," he said. He's pretty sure he would've let you do whatever you wanted, as long as you stayed beside him in this van forever.

You slipped the current tape out, and slipped in Metallica. Fight Fire with fire came on and you sat back in your seat.

"Why this one?" he asked. He wanted to know. He wanted you to give some cheesy answer so he could figure out an excuse to not like you, to fight all the reasons he was starting to like you anyway. It was just a shirt, maybe you didn't listen to them at all.

"For Whom the Bell Tolls is my favourite right now," you said casually.

"What about Slayer? What's your favourite?"

"You quizzin' me?" you quipped, laughing as Eddie widened his eyes. You cut him off before he could apologize. "Die by the Sword." You drummed your fingers absentmindedly against your jeans. "Always had this fantasy about riding into battle, yaknow, Lord of the Rings style."

"Who are you?" Eddie asked, fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter. "You like Lord of the Rings and Slayer." He said it as a fact, not a question. With every casual answer you gave, a knife was turning in his stomach, reminding him that he was the bad guy. He took a stupid bet, from his stupid friends, and it was keeping him from enjoying this moment fully. There was a little voice reminding him that what he's doing, is shit people like Jason Carver would do.

"Yes, and?"

And nothing. You were just casting a spell on Eddie that he would need a miracle to undo. "So you're a hidden freak."

"Being hidden is lame," you said, "I wouldn't lie if they asked."

"Who is they?" he asked.

"The other cheerleaders, the jocks, anyone at school really."

"You don't get along with the other cheerleaders?"

"No, I do. They're my girls. <3" You smiled, biting the skin beside your thumb. "I just don't talk about fantasy epics with them, they're not really interested."

"I don't know," he teased, pulling into the movie theatre parking lot. "You don't really seem like any cheerleaders I know."

"And how many cheerleaders do you know?"

He laughed, parking the car. He was starting to ease into it a little more. Enjoying your presence while he can. "Fair enough."

"Shaking those pom-poms is going to get me a scholarship, and a scholarship will get me out of here." The words were less airy and playful than the rest had been. He'd taken note of your serious tone when talking about getting out of here. There was hardly a line, most of the movies started a couple minutes earlier, there were just a few Halloween stragglers.

"In a rush out of here?" he asked. He wanted to know everything about you.

"You could say that," you said. "I don't have a problem with Hawkins but my parents are... I just..." you trailed off. "Let's not ruin a good time."

He nodded, not needing to hear anything else. After light squabbling about who would pay for the tickets, Eddie passed his money over to the ticket guy, who had an obvious line of sight to your stomach. Or maybe it was your chest he was staring at, either away, Eddie was finding it really annoying. He used his arm to gently guide you behind him, blocking most of the box office employees view.

He felt protective over you. Which is ironic, because at the start of the day he had a plan to woo you, to take you on a date for a bet. And now, he wanted to protect you from hurt.

The worst kind of hypocrite.

The conversation died when the two of you shuffled into the little theatre. The movie had been out long enough that it wasn't too busy. It was nice, being in the dark together, silently watching the movie. You weren't really scared, but you still liked it. Eddie however, wasn't loving it as much as you.

Eddie was having such a nice time, that he was able to push the bet out of his mind completely.

After the movie, pretty much everything was closed, except the 24 hour diner a little bit down the highway, so that's where he took you. He drove about twenty minutes just to eat greasy cheeseburgers and sickeningly sweet milkshakes because he just couldn't bare for this night to be over yet.

"Guess I gotta get you home," Eddie said after the food. "It's already passed midnight."

"Oh that's okay," you said, leaving money on the table for food. "They'll be gone until next week anyway. I don't they'd care when I got home."

Eddie wanted to ask, but he could tell your parents weren't something you liked to talk about.

"Well, if we've both nowhere to be, maybe we should stick together."

"Why don't you take me home anyway and we can watch another movie."

"I'd like that."

The ride back to your place seemed shorter, or maybe he was just excited to see where you live. He wanted to see your room. He was so curious about you. He just wanted to know everything.

Your house was quiet, pitch black and lonely... like it always was. You let him in, and he awkwardly shuffled in behind you. He copied what you did by taking your shoes off by the door. Your house opened into the living room, with stairs right beside.

"Can I see your room?" he asked, half expecting you to say no but you answered with a quick "sure!" and led him up the stairs. He watched your ass the whole time you walked ahead of him.

"It's kinda boring," you said, opening the door. There wasn't really much to it. A few posters on the wall; a couple were bands he liked and there were a few movie posters too. Your cassettes were all stacked on your desk neatly, and there were vinyls beside that, a small table there to hold the record player. He was talking and poking through them, while you sat on the bed, watching him intently. He was shocked to see you actually had some of the same things he did. And you... you had bands he didn't know. One day, he was totally going to borrow those.

He kept chatting as he poked around. This morning, neither one of you could have predicted being here like this. He stopped talking mid sentence, and you could see him looking more at the desk than the music now. You curiously tried to peak at what he was looking at.

"Is this a dnd character sheet?" he asked.

"Oh!" you laughed, standing and joining him by the desk. "Yeah, it is. I'd been trying to work up the nerve to ask you to teach me, but, I guess I didn't have to."

And just like that, you had him.

You had him totally and fully and he wished he'd never taken that stupid challenge with his stupid friends about the stupid money. His mind was emotional soup.

"You were gunna ask me to teach you dungeons and dragons?" he asked, totally stunned into silence, again.

"Well..." you blushed, turning away from him. He saw it though. "I kind of have a crush on you, Eddie. Maybe before tonight it wasn't like... real, because I didn't actually know you but..." You smiled, so soft and sweet, it made Eddie feel warm and vulnerable. "Now I know it is real."

What was he supposed to do? Look at you while you're vulnerable like that and just tell you what he's done? No shot. No fucking way would he let any of his dumb choices get in the way of, whatever this was going to be.

"I like you, too," he said finally, smiling back at you. The problem was, while it was true, it didn't feel as genuine. He did like you, but that's not how it started.

And what was he supposed to do when you looked like you wanted a kiss? Not kiss you? That would be rude.

Eddie leaned in slowly, and so did you. He brought his hand up, coddling your face and brushing a thumb over your cheek. He said, "you're so beautiful," before closing the gap and putting his mouth on yours. It was small, mouths parted and puckered, moving slowly. It was a short kiss, but a tender first one.

Until you said, "sorry if I'm not a good kisser, I haven't done much kissing," with a blush.

"You haven't done much kissing?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I'm so... inexperienced."

"No, it's okay! I don't really get to kiss anyone either."

"You can kiss me whenever you want," you said, bounce in your step as you grabbed his hand and led him back downstairs.

You let him pick a movie while you set up the couch with some blankets. He settled beside you one the couch once the movie started, and you snuggled into his side as if you owned it. Which may as well be true already, and passed out within five minutes of the movie starting. He told himself sternly that he would leave when the movie was over, and he did mean it. But he also rested his head on yours and tried to fall asleep before he saw any credits.

Which he did.

Monday morning rolling around was another one of Eddie's punishments. The bliss of his imaginary life came hurdling towards the end, and it was filling him with anxiety. Like, so fucking much anxiety.

At school, he'd be unable to avoid his friends. Eddie had spent much of Saturday morning lounging at your house with you. You two made breakfast, listened to some music, and then watched a movie. He had to leave eventually, since he didn't want to kiss you with morning breath. But he'd called you that night... and the one after that. He just couldn't get enough of you.

Eddie had avoided his best friends most of the morning, mostly by just being late. Unfortunately, that also had meant he'd avoided you. He'd hoped you'd come into the cafeteria first. He was biting his nails, his leg rapidly shaking up and down. You had said he can kiss you anytime... did that mean school, too? He hoped so. He hoped you would come into the freaking cafeteria.

But his fantasy bubble had officially popped when Jeff grabbed him by the shoulders from behind, scaring him.

"Bud, you've been holding out on us."

"What are you talking about?" Eddie asked. Gareth and Jeff sat at the table with him.

"Same thing that everyone is talking about, you and y/n."

"What?" Eddie had been so focused on not talking to anyone that he hadn't heard anything.

"Someone's sister saw you leaving her house on Saturday, and I distinctly remember you rushing out of Hellfire on Friday."

"What are people saying?"

"Some are saying drugs, some are saying you guys have sex. Did you? Did you have sex with her?"

"No," Eddie said, effectively wiping the smile off Gareth's face. "But I may have slept there."

His friends looked at each other, and then at him, and Eddie took one selfish moment to be excited about it. It was his fatal mistake.

"Are you guys gunna go out again?" Jeff asked. Eddie grinned, and nodded.

"Well, a deal is a deal. Here goes all my savings on some dumb bet," Gareth said.

They should've had a sign, some bat signal that Eddie could show above the entire student body that would get his best friends to shut the fuck up because you were behind them, walking closer and smiling at Eddie with that same sweet smile on your face.

You must have slipped in when he was talking to the guys. He tried to shush Gareth without being obvious, but Gareth was being so fucking loud. If he didn't shut up soon you were going to hear him. Eddie's heart was racing. Jeff kicked Gareth, but apparently not hard enough because he just kept talking.

Eddie's heart was going to beat out of his chest... like in Alien...

"I can't believe you got y/n on a date in like, one day." Gareth scoffed. "Maybe you let her in on it for some of the money. Last time I make a bet with you losers."

And it was like watching a star die. Your beautiful smile gone, replaced with a quivering lip and a look in your eye that reflected agony, instead of the little bit of trouble he loved so much. Eddie was going to throw up. For a second you two just looked at each other, Eddie had his hands an inch off the table, he was shaking.

He fucking knew this scenario never worked out for anyone.

And then you were running out of there, and he was hot on your heels. It must have looked bad, you running out crying while Eddie chased you. After rumors of drugs deals and scandalous sex, the fire was most definitely stoked.

Eddie shouted after you, following you all the way outside. Out there, where no one was really lingering, you turned around. There were a few tears rolling down your cheeks, and you chewed on the skin of your lip.

"Please tell me that it doesn't mean what it sounds like," you begged, stepping closer. The hurt tone of your voice sent a dagger into his chest with every word. He did this. "If you can just-" you hiccuped, "tell me that. Then we can go to the diner and we can go, we can go wherever you want. Anywhere. Just tell me that it wasn't what it sounded like."

Eddie didn't say anything. He couldn't.

He didn't have anything good enough to say.

You just watched him with tears in your eyes. It seemed like you were begging him with your eyes. He wished he had anything to tell you. It wasn't what it seemed like, or maybe it was for a good cause. But he didn't have anything.

"But," you cried, "but you said you liked me."

"I do like you," he said quickly, his voice surprisely hoarse. Being able to say something true made him spring into action. "I like you so much. I'm so sorry, I'm really so so fucking sorry, but please. Just let me make it up to you. Obviously I don't want the money, I was going to tell them it's off but I just... I didn't, I don't know why. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"What was the bet?"

"What?"

"What were the terms and conditions of the bet?"

"Is that... really productive..." he trailed off when he looked at you. Eddie sighed, and looked to his feet for some kind of comfort. He found none. "Two hundred bucks for a date with any of the cheerleaders. If I fail I embarrass myself at purpose at school."

"You were right that wasn't productive," you said.

"I'm so sorry," he said, "I can still fix it."

"Do what you want. I'm going home."

"Let me take you."

"No, no... you've done plenty, thanks."

And against what he really wanted, he let you go. If you didn't want him around right now he wouldn't push it. Eddie would just have to fix this. He had a plan to woo you once, he could do it again. But this time it would be because he knows he can treat you right. He can be the guy you deserve. He would bring you flowers. He'd never hurt you.

...this was just a really bad example... that's all.

[natashaslittlegirl]

Sweet Sin - WM

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI +18 ONLY.

Sweet Sin | Sweet Wanda | Sweet blood

Summary: Your dream university and the one to which you were admitted is Catholic, the last requirement is that you have to take communion. Being a non-believer girl you were going to give up, until you remembered one of your neighbors thay could help, Wanda Maximoff, head of the choir and catholic teacher in your town.

Catholic teacher ! Wanda Maximoff x Student ! Reader

Smut, dirty talk, oral sex (w receiving), vaginal fingering (w receiving), praise kink, hair pulling, finger sucking, semi-public sex, church sex, age gap (legal r).

Words Count: 1400+ 

Wattpad Masterlist Wanda Maximoff's Masterlist

·

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff, for agreeing to teach me," you said smiling at the woman in front of you. "I really appreciate it."

"It's okay sweetheart, it's never too late." She smiles back at you to start catechism class.

You didn't like the church, or God, or anything that has to do with religion, but the university of your dreams was Catholic, so you swallowed your pride and started with communion to be able to enter.

Your neighbor, Miss Maximoff, was very sweet to you, letting you into the church for private lessons, she couldn't put you in the class with the nine and ten year olds kids, it would be torture.

So that's what your summer Saturdays were going to be like, three hours in church between Wanda's classes, and then the one-hour mass.

Sometimes you stayed a little longer than you should, helping your neighbor tidy up the rooms and the church. It is the least you could do since she was helping you fulfill your dream.

Not only that, you also had a little crush on her. The woman was beautiful, but she was unfortunately married to a disgusting man and she had two children, she was also extremely devoted to God, which if she found out that you are a lesbian she would probably pass out.

This Sunday the church had a charity event, a food fair with the whole town participating so that the money raised goes to the orphanage.

Wanda requested your help to prepare the salon for the event, which was behind the church, so here you were carrying chairs from the church storage room to the salon.

You spent all morning carrying and bringing things, your arms were already tired from so much effort, but it was worth it, since seeing the beautiful woman who gave you private lessons, in a black dress that fits perfectly fine her figure was worth all your time.

"Honey, can you help me bring some boxes from the storage room? I've already put the food on the tables, just need the decorations." She asked you smiling to which you nodded and walked next to her.

"My arms just hurt a bit, is it heavy what we have to carry, Wanda?" She tortured you into calling her by her name, you that calling her by her last name so formally made her feel old, even though you assured her she wasn't.

What you didn't know was that she didn't want you to call her that because of how much it turned her on, having that little authority over you.

"Oh, swettie, why didn't you tell me you were tired?" She stopped before entering the deposit, putting one of her hands on your cheek, caressing it.

"Because I'm okay, Miss Maximoff, I can go on" you smiled assuring her not to worry. A devilish grin formed on her face at hearing her name.

"You were a very good girl for me all morning honey, helping me so well, I think you deserve a reward don't you?" The smirk on her face got you, nodding as fast as you could. "Come with me, baby."

She opened the door, entering the room and closing the door right after you passed, leading you by the hand to where the organ was, the one that played every time the choir sang. Wanda positioned herself on top of it, putting you between her legs.

"Do you want your reward, sweetheart?" Her hand still grabbing yours, you gave it a squeeze as you nodded. She released you to start pulling her dress up, leaving it coiled to her hips, your lips parting at the revealing of her bare wet pussy, glistening with the little sunlight coming through a window.

Your mouth watered, there she was, legs spread, almost dripping in front of you. You sighed at the thought of tasting her, your hands went to her thighs, caressing them.

"Come on, take it, honey." she encouraged you and you fell to your knees to the ground, without taking your eyes off hers, now dark green, full of lust and desire.

You didn't waste another second and brought your face closer to your neighbor's pussy, the most devoted woman to God in the whole town was now exposed and wet at your disposal. And you were totally ready to sin.

Your tongue curled over her clit, causing her hands to go to your hair at the first lick, making you moan at the sweet taste of her.

If this was like eating the forbidden fruit, you'll sin every day for her, the most delicious and sweet sin you tasted in your entire life.

"Mhm yes, so good, dear." Wanda was trying not to moan so loudly, as even the little sounds echoed in the giant room, but you didn't care, you wanted her to scream until there was no air left in her lungs.

Your tongue ran up and down her wet folds, alternating between her entrance and her clit, her hand still in your hair, pulling you closer, if that was possible.

You plunged a finger into her without warning, stealing a loud deep moan from her throat, causing her to bring her own hand to her mouth to muffle the sounds coming from her.

You started slow, making her growl in desperation, bucking her hips against your face, another finger entered her, now two were working on her entrance while your tongue was on her clit, licking and sucking it.

Wanda's legs began to shake, squeezing your head, curling your fingers inside her, touching her g-spot, she felt in heaven.

You looked up, seeing how she had her head thrown back, one of her hands still covering her mouth, her brows knitted together and her chest heaving sharply for air.

"Don't stop honey, I'm so close, oh you're so good at this."

You doubled your efforts, even though you were already tired, but all of that vanished with the moans that Wanda let out of her lips.

"Oh fucking god, I-I'm gonna cum." and you stopped, suddenly you stopped and she looked down at you, with her eyes wide open and furrowed brows, not understanding what happened.

"That's not my name." and then she realized.

"Come on, Y/N, don't fuck with me now" a smirk formed on your face, her deep and agitated tone of voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way your name left her lips sent a wave of wetness to your core.

"I am fucking you now, Miss Maximoff." She growled at her name, grabbing your hair to pull it hard, making you groan at the tight grip.

"Don't be a brat now and make me cum, or you're gonna regret this." Her voice loaded with authority was all it took to start moving your fingers again, fast and hard, curling them while your tongue sucked on her already swollen clit.

Wanda came undone moaning your name, falling from her lips like every Sunday prayer. Getting you soaked with her cumming while you helped her ride her high.

You pulled your fingers out of her, bringing them to her mouth, for her to licking them clean, she moaned at her own taste.

"You taste so good, Miss Maximoff."

"I can't wait to taste you, my good little angel."

You shared a wet yet soft kiss, with her hands fixing your messy hair and yours in the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. When the lack of air became present, you both separated, you helped her get off the organ and adjusted her dress.

"Come on, we still have to decorate the room, sweet girl," but before going to the church, Wanda grabbed your wrist pulling you closer to her, your back crashing to her front just to whisper in your ear "I'll wait for you after the event."

[tojisbbygworl]

Congrats, Babe - Toji Fushiguro x Black!Reader ~ FFL Series

Summary: Toji couldn’t believe you actually invited him to your graduation. Watching you walk across that stage, his son in his arms, sitting next to your family, he couldn’t be happier. Toji - 24, You - 21, Megumi - 3

Characters: Toji, Megumi

Words: 4,239

Tags: Fluff (kinda sorta Tooth-Rotting), Soft Toji, Toji’s a Good Dad, Suggestive Thoughts, Crushes to Lovers

Disclaimer: This work is part of a Black!Reader x Toji series I started called Fushiguro Family Life. It's basically a slice of life series with you, Toji and Megumi. None of them are in order and can be read on their own unless stated otherwise.

AO3 Version

My AO3

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

author's note: Hiiiiii! Don't have much to say except I hope you all enjoy this. I feel like it's really cute and I think I'm doing pretty good on giving small insight on Megumi's personality, Toji's parenting, and what led to his divorce with Megumi's mother who I've decided will be named Ayano. Her name won't come up here but it will down the line. Toji's past will be revealed more and more as the series continues.

“Um, daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we going again?”

“A graduation.”

“Oh. What’s that?”

“It’s a ceremony.”

“Oh. What’s that?”

“Sigh…”

On a regular day, a simple drive with his son babbling about nothing in the backseat wouldn’t be so nerve wracking. However, today was a bit special.

Toji was genuinely shocked when you gave him your number after months of friendly flirting. He never actually expected to get anything from you, he was having too much fun watching you get frustrated. But, now that he thinks about it, you have been warming up to him for some time now. The two of you only ever talked at the gym. You went in only a couple of times a week, so he had to make every second count. And he may have purposely changed his availability so he would be there.

You hadn’t said yes to a date just yet, but he’s hoping it was only a matter of time. The two of you were becoming much closer with each other, sometimes spending hours just talking on the phone. Last night’s call was especially sweet. His ears have been heating up all morning from thinking about it. You were so excited about finally graduating, not having to worry about school for what may be the rest of your life, and starting your career. You were so ready for a steady income and to move out of your parents’ house. And it took everything within him to not suggest you move in with him instead of living on your own, as he knows how expensive it can get.

The journey to your graduation was a bit nerve wracking. He knew he’d be anxious when you invited both him and Megumi a week ago. A couple of family members hadn’t been able to make it, meaning Toji would be meeting and sitting down with those who could. Meeting the family before even one date. Unheard of.

He hadn’t even met his last wife’s family before marrying her. He can see how stupid of an idea that was now that they’re divorced. Imagine how much heartache he could have avoided had he done so.

After going through hell (finding parking) he lifts Megumi out of his car seat and takes his hand to follow the hordes of people heading to the auditorium. Looking at his tickets, Toji heads over to their assigned seats.

He sees a group of people who resemble you and deduces that it must be your family. At first he panics. He wonders if you told them about him coming or if he should even say anything. But, his question is answered when the older woman of the group taps his shoulder after sitting down. He guides Megumi to sit in the seat next to him, to which he simply refuses by putting his arms on his father’s lap and jumping to try and climb it. Toji rolls his eyes and lifts his son up.

“Are you the person my daughter Y/N invited? Toji?” She asks. Ah, so this was your mom. You don’t really look like her.

Toji puts on his charming smile and holds his hand out to her. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” He gestures to the little boy on his lap. “This is my son, Megumi.”

Megumi, who’s usually shy, lifts a small hand up and waved at her, looking down and away nervously. Your mom twiddles her fingers which makes him smile. “Aw,” she says and reaches over to tickle his stomach. Megumi giggles and kicks his feet. Toji jerks his head back in shock.

“Is this Toji?” He hears. 

Your mother turns to the man sitting next to her and nods. “Mhm. And this is his son.” Megumi gets nervous again and his smile drops, but he does give a small wave. The man waves back and looks up at Toji. He holds his hand out. Now you do look like him. This must be your father.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Toji shakes his hand and says the same. The other two look over at the commotion and smile. Toji waves at them. Megumi hides his head in his shirt.

“Hi! You’re Toji?” One of them asked. She looks to be around the same age as you and sounds like it too. In fact, so does the boy sitting next to her. “I’m Kennedy. This is my brother. We’re Y/N’s cousins.”

“It’s really nice to meet you,” he said after introducing himself as Kwame. “She talks about you all the damn time.”

Toji’s smile freezes and he rubs the back of his neck. “She does?”

Everyone nods and starts going on and on about how much you gush about him. Up until he accepted your invitation, he was known as, “the fine ass gym owner”, a statement that made him blush even harder. However, it was nice knowing how you truly felt about him. It’s not as if you would ever admit to having a crush in front of his face.

He was a bit shocked. Yeah, you flirted back with him from time to time, but you didn’t actually like him, right? It was just…friendly banter. Right?

Some time passed before the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the graduation music began to play. As much as Toji loves that you asked him to come and as excited as he is to see you, it was extremely boring. The only reason he was awake was the clapping from various families. Didn’t bother Megumi, though. He was fast asleep in his father’s lap. Thank goodness, too. Megumi hated staying still if he didn’t have anything to distract him. It was something Toji was working on with him. He’d be getting somewhere with it, and then Megumi would go see his mother and it’s as if she pushed some sort of reset button and he was asking for Toji’s phone again.

Toji was feeling a bit anxious. Your name hadn’t been called yet, and even when it was, there were still hundreds of other students after you. It’s only a matter of time until-

Feeling a stirring on his chest, Toji tears his eyes away from his phone to look into his lap. Megumi was twisting back and forth into his shirt. He did this a few times before sitting up and rubbing his eyes with a yawn. “Shit.” Toji whispered to himself.

As if it’s a homing beacon, Megumi twisted his head to his father’s hand where his phone was being held. He reached out for it, becoming irritated when Toji put it in his pocket. Megumi looked up at him begrudgingly while Toji stared back. Crap. Megumi was a good kid overall, but he was still just a kid. He really didn’t want to have to leave because he started crying, and he also didn’t want to give Megumi the phone. Well, he would have to make a decision soon, because Megumi’s chest was heaving and getting worse with every passing second. His eyes grew big and sparkly, his bottom lip started to poke out, ahh shit.

Like an angel in disguise, your mother leaned over his lap and smiled at Megumi. “Did your daddy make you mad?” Toji’s jaw drops then drops even more when Megumi actually nods.

“Aw, come here baby,” she holds her hands out and lifts him into her lap when he reaches for her. “Don’t cry, hm?”

“Don’t you want to watch your friend graduate?” As if Megumi knows what graduate even means, he nods his head again. Toji is appalled. She flips him around and points to the stage where you had actually just gotten to the stairs. “Look. It’s Y/N.”

Megumi doesn’t know who she is either, he hadn’t met her yet. But still, he looks around for a face he does recognize, and Toji takes this chance to talk to her. “How…how did…”

“Hold on, she’s about to walk,” she shushes him. Toji turns his head back towards the stage where he sees you standing at the top. He sees your black and blue cap and gown, your decorated neck, and the bright smile on your face and lights up. He adjusts his posture.

You begin to walk and Toji takes notice of your heels. Your legs and feet look fantastic in them. He wondered what dress you were wearing underneath all that. He knows it looks great on you.

Your name is called, and he joins your family in a round of applause. Even Megumi starts clapping. Toji decides to throw in a whistle, laughing to himself when you turn to the crowd in confusion. You try to look for him in the crowd to no avail, but you smile anyway and walk off.

Toji leans back in his seat, still reveling in your smile, but stops when he feels some eyes on him. He turns to look at your mother who was giving him a stare he couldn’t read. Megumi was successfully distracted. He was counting on his fingers. Hopefully the number was 1000.

“So,” she starts, “how long until you’re ready to put a ring on her finger?”

After a second of choking on his own spit, Toji responds. “I’m-what?”

“What comes after 19?” Megumi asks.

“20,”Answers your mother.

“Oh.” He puts one more finger up. Afterwards, he puts all of his fingers back down and starts again. “What comes after that?”

“21.”

“…Oh!” And he starts silently counting again while mouthing the words to himself.

She looks back up at Toji who was waiting patiently for an explanation. “Well, now that she’s a graduate and is entering a sustainable career, I think she’s more than qualified to be a wife. Don’t you?”

Toji blushes profusely. His heart runs a mile a minute. He doesn’t know what to say or think. Is that why she’s been so nice and talkative to him? She thinks they’re dating? What have you told her?

She was anticipating his answer. Megumi was halfway through his 20s. “Uhm…I mean…yes, but…I think you might have the wrong idea.”

She leans back and gets a wistful look on her face. “Ah, I see,” she says. “You want to wait until the right moment and all of that. Well, I say the right moment is now, but that’s just me I guess.”

Toji’s mouth hasn’t closed for the entire interaction. She doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Just goes back to telling Megumi what numbers come after what.

-

After the ceremony, you all meet up outside and wait for your arrival. Toji decides not to bring up what happened in the auditorium. It was a little awkward, but mostly, he kind of likes the idea that your mother thinks the two of you are dating. No one else has said anything, however. Maybe it’s just your mother being a bit ridiculous.

Megumi, who’s still being held by her, taps her shoulder. “Is that her?��� He asks while pointing.

They all look in the same direction and lo and behold, there you were. Your gown was unzipped showing off your beautiful white dress that stopped at your thighs and hugged your curves. It showed only a bit of your cleavage and left a lot to Toji’s very active imagination. Your makeup was stunning, and you had texted him earlier today saying that you did it yourself. You did an amazing job. Your Cajun spice locks framed your face beautifully. You told him you wanted your hair to be blonde so you stopped staining your new growth after bleaching it. Your cap was hiding the blonde. He would have loved to see it.

Your beautiful smile filled his heart, and he found himself gravitating towards you, even getting in front of your family. Your smile grew even bigger as you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in it. He did the same to you and squeezed you closer by your waist.

“Congrats, babe.”

“Thank you Toji. I’m so glad you came.” He rocks you back and forth before pulling away.

“Of course we came.” Your face lights up and you look at your family. You hug and kiss them all, your mother being last. She puts Megumi down to hug you tightly. Toji sees a tear run down her cheek. He looks at Megumi, expecting him to come running back, but he just stands there and looks up at you while holding your mother’s pants.

“Have you met Megumi, yet?” Your mother asks you, putting her hand behind his back and nudging him in front of her.

“No,” you answer, crouching down to speak to him. “Hi Megumi. I’m Y/N.”

Megumi smiled shyly and waved at you. “You’re very pretty. I see why my dad likes you so much!”

“Megumi!” Toji reaches for his hand and picks him up while blushing. Kennedy and Kwame giggle off to the side. Your father was too busy trying to record you to notice what he had said. You cover your mouth and look at him. He knew you were laughing underneath your hand.

“Okay!” Your dad put his phone away after looking at the time. “We have to get going before traffic gets bad and we end up late.”

As if he pressed a button, your whole family jumped into action. Toji looked at you in confusion as you walked up to him. “What’s going on?”

“We’re throwing a graduation party,” you explain. Sheepishly, you rub your ear. “I…wasn’t sure if you wanted to come to that too. It’s mostly going to be family and I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable-.”

“I’d love to come!” He says a bit too excitedly. He clears his throat afterwards. “I’d love to come.”

Your beam made his heart pound. “Okay! I’ll send u the address.” You approached him and put your hand on his arm. His palms became sweaty and he had no clue what you were trying to do, but he was prepared for anything. Especially a kiss.

Unfortunately, you weren’t trying to do that. Instead, you tickled Megumi’s tummy making him giggle sweetly. “Are you okay with that?” You asked while looking at the baby boy.

Megumi nodded enthusiastically. “I love parties!” He shouted.

“Yay! You’ll have so much fun. There’s going to be a kids room, okay?” Megumi nods even more. You take out your phone, send Toji the address, then turn to catch up with your family. Toji continues to watch the back of your head longingly. He’s knocked out of his trance when you turn to look at him. “Come on. We’re going to the parking garage.”

Toji blinks and gulps. That’s right. He could walk you to your car. “Coming.”

-

Toji pulls up to the banquet hall 30 minutes later. Your family had made it a few minutes before, but were all already inside having a time. Getting out of the car, Toji looked around. There were a lot of cars and even more pulling up. Whole families getting out and rushing to the doors, some of them with gifts. Toji’s throat dries up. He thinks he’ll keep his gift in the car.

When he walks inside with his son, it’s clear that he is a fish out of water. There was a large dancefloor already housing hoards of people. He nervously looked around for someone he recognized, and got even more nervous as the seconds went by. He looked at Megumi, who was getting more and more nervous by the second.

He began walking inside with no clear direction. Some children ran past his legs, which captured Megumi’s attention. They took a second to stop and look at the large man that they had never seen before, then went right back to playing. Toji watches them run to the other side of the building and go through a door. Toji wonders if that’s the kid’s area you were talking about. Then, a couple more children run past the doorway, with an adult chasing after them. He’ll assume the answer is yes.

Upon walking through the door, he finds himself in a hallway. It’s a long corridor, but right on the wall opposite to the party, there was an open door. He could see from the cartoon paintings on the wall, the bright colors, the puzzle piece mat, and the sound from within that this was his destination. When walking in, he gained many stares from the various kids inside. He grew worried for Megumi who had his hand over his mouth staring nervously at the crowd of kids. He was gripping Toji’s shirt tightly. He knew his little heart was beating a mile a minute.

Toji pulled his son to the front of him. “Hey,” he tells him. “You’re gonna be brave for daddy, right?” The boy shakes his head. Toji shifts his jaw and sighs. “Come on, Megumi. I’ll…” he squeezes his lips together and his eyes shut, not wanting to have to bribe his son. “I’ll get you pizza and ice cream tomorrow. We can have it for breakfast.”

It didn’t excite him, but it did the job. Megumi nodded his head and let his father put him on the floor. “Of course,” Toji whispered under his breath. He watches Megumi shyly walk up to some younger kids around his age, talking about nothing and playing with blocks. They watch him sit down then go back to playing. Megumi looks back at his dad who gives him a smile and a thumbs up. The boy takes a second, turns back around and reaches for a block. Then, one kid decides to hand one to him. Then another. Soon, Megumi’s being offered blocks galore. Toji feels a warmth growing inside him along with relief. He fit right in. And, maybe he’ll forget about that promise.

“Well that seemed to work quite well, huh?” Says a familiar voice from behind him. Toji turns around to face you. Your cap and gown was off just leaving you in your stunning dress. Your skin looked so smooth, and your hair was even more beautiful than before now that he can see it in its full glory. You never failed to take his breath away.

He clears his throat, checks back on Megumi once more, then follows you back out into the hall. The door leading to the party was closed so the children wouldn’t run into it so easily, and they wouldn't be disturbed in the play room. Despite the blasting music, it blocked off the sound pretty well. “You heard that, huh?” He laughs. “Yeah, it always seems to work. Sometimes he forgets so it still works out in my favor.”

You let out your adorable giggle. “I wasn’t aware that you were so conniving.” You tease.

“You haven’t seen nothing yet, doll.” Toji gives you a sideways grin and leans towards you with his hands in his pockets. You’re beaming with your fingers covering your mouth. 

You push his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Can’t say. Kids around.”

“Excuse you?”

“You should push me again.”

“I probably will. You always give me a reason to.”

“Can it be because I like when you touch me?”

“Toji!” You exclaim quietly, looking around to make sure no one was in the hallway to hear him. He was giving you the most shit-eating grin. He reveled in making you flustered.

“What?” He feigns, leaning even closer towards you. He gives your face a good once over. Then he looks down at your lips. They look so soft and so full. He just wants to know how they feel on his skin. On his lips. On his-

“Oh my gosh!” You gasp and grab his arm, knocking him out of his trance. “This is my favorite song!” You grab him and run to open the doors, dragging him onto the dancefloor that’s become even more crowded.

Toji’s feeling a whirlwind of emotions. But nothing compares to you throwing him forward and getting in front of him. Your back faced towards him and before you started dancing, you turned your torso to look at him. “Put your arms on my waist.” You yell.

He blinks. “What?” He’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly over the loud music.

“Your arms,” you repeat. You take his hands and put them on your lower torso. “Just catch my whine, okay?”

And he does. And he does it well. You start to move your waist slowly. You’re barely touching him, but he still feels hot all over. He really is perfect. He’s not grinding against you, but he’s not letting you go either. He squeezes you, which pleases you immensely. Both of you feel amazing in the other’s presence. As if you’re the only two there.

All good things must come to an end. The song, the dance, and eventually, his time at the party. It was getting late. He had to get Megumi home. After what you pulled, Toji didn’t even bother to fix the boyfriend allegations. He wondered how awkward that would be. For you to dance so sensually on a man you weren’t with in front of your family. He’s sure they wouldn’t appreciate that. And there were so many people asking him about it. It would be a headache to correct all of them every single time.

Even then, he had a lot of fun. He enjoyed spending time with you and your family, despite how awkward he could get. And you - oh, you. Your eyes didn’t leave him all night. He thought he was imagining things. But when the clock passed 10, and he told you he had to leave, you eagerly followed him to grab Megumi. Him, amongst other children, were asleep. Toji picked him up and carried him outside.

“Good thing you’re walking little ol’ me to my car.” He whispers once they get out. “I wanted to give you something but I was afraid you wouldn’t have anywhere to put them for the time being.” Toji walks around to Megumi’s seat and sits him down safely. He was still sound asleep. He would have been confused, if it wasn’t for the food stains around his mouth and on his shirt. He’ll be asleep until next week. “And I…was nervous and couldn’t think of a good time.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to get me anything.” You assure him. Toji shushes you before strapping him inside. Once he does, he picks up a gigantic bouquet of white flowers, walks back around the car, and gives them to you.

You gasp. “Oh, Toji.” You appreciated all the presents you got, but this was all you really wanted. Something simple and cute that still showed that whoever gave it to you was thinking fondly of you. And they were your favorite. 

You accept them graciously. For a few seconds, you and Toji just look at each other. He’s overwhelmed with pride and joy for you. You really graduated today. You achieved something great. Something that he was never able to do. He admires you so much. Not just your looks, but your brain and personality. In his eyes you were…perfect.

Today went just the way you wanted it to. You got to celebrate your achievement with the people you truly cared about. And you did care for Toji. You think it’s about time he knew that.

So, you grab his shoulder, pull him towards you, stand on the balls of your feet and give him a smooch right in his left cheek. You hear his small gasp and it makes your heart run. You began to sweat a bit. The nerve of you, to kiss him like that. He looks genuinely shocked and you almost begin to regret what you did, until he takes his arm and wraps it around your waist before you can pull away. Toji breathes harder and harder as he stares longingly at your parted lips. Then, he finally leans down and kisses you for the first time.

For a moment, your hearts feel as though they’re beating as one. The kiss is tender and filled with need. Toji is steady pushing your head backwards as he deepens it. When he realizes what he’s doing, he stops abruptly and pulls away. You both continue to stare in each other’s eyes as you catch your breath.

Despite his dry mouth, Toji swallows. “I-I’m sorry,” he begins. “I just…I…”

He had seen you smile a lot today, but the one that spreads across your cheeks was the brightest by far. Everything, every anxious thought and insecure feeling he had washes away. “No. It’s okay. I liked it.”

Absolutely perplexed, Toji let’s out a sound of disbelief. He tries to keep from smiling, but he can’t help it. “You did?”

And you nod. Eagerly.

Ever the rascal, Toji gives you his signature side grin and brings your body closer to him. “You want another one?”

His chagrin makes you burst into a fit of laughter and you throw your arms around his neck, smacking the flowers onto his back. Filled with joy, Toji fully wraps both of his arms around you and lifts you up, twirling you around.

And from inside, a couple of your baby cousins watch the adorable scene. One of the older ones took many pictures to show everyone later on. “I told you that was her boyfriend.”

ending a/n: Let me know what y'all think! I love hearing yall's opinions. And I mayyyyy be open to taking requests. I have many idead already, but I want to see what y'all can think of. Okay byeeeeeeee!!! Taglist for the next story is open.

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[carolmunson]

you keep me without chains | em.

this is a re-post of a ramble fic of me processing some stuff i've been through and am struggling with in my own healing. if you're familiar with my 'bad at feelings' series, it's in a similar vein of writing except eddie is incredibly soft and sweet to reader who is going through her own stuff. eddie sucks here, i don't think it's a correct characterization of him but it's just me using him as a placeholder.

originally, i didn't want to put this story in the tags because it's sad and explores the mindset of someone in a non-physically abusive relationship. however, since it is DV awareness month, i wanted to make sure to express that if there are people reading this who are struggling that they aren't alone and there are people there that understand and support them. and also that if there are younger readers reading (still eighteen plus!) who aren't sure if they are in an abusive relationship they are maybe able to get some context via fiction. my inbox is always open. DV Hotline US: 800-799-7233 DV Hotline UK: 0808 2000 247 tw: 18+ mindors dni, references to emotional and psychological abuse, minor threats of physical violence.

he left this morning with a kiss on your cheek and your lips, a nuzzle against your temple when you gave him two thermos's, one with hot black coffee and the other with the beef stew you made last night. hot hot hot. the way he likes it.

you made bread, so crisp on the outside, pillowy soft on the inside. he groaned when he popped it in his mouth at the dinner table, soaked in broth and butter. you warmed some in the oven when you put his lunch together, wrapping it in foil to trap the heat -- maybe it'll keep until his lunch hour. he might eat it all before his lunch hour. he never eats breakfast really.

you clean the counters and do the laundry while he's away. no kids to take care of, not yet at least. you mend his spare coveralls, treating the grease and oils stains, resewing his name tag stiched in red thread. you shine your mary janes and stilettos, shine his doc's just to be nice. you fix his patches on his vest from the last show he went to. you clean the stubble out of the sink in the bathroom.

he has the car so there's nowhere to go.

you shower, you do your hair, put make up on, go through the motions while he's not home. he hates to wait for you to do it but you hate looking tired when you're out and about. better to do it when he's busy doing something else.

next door neighbor is heading to the library, knocks on your door to see if you wanna come with. she just wants you to get out of the house for once, stop playing wife to a man who hasn't married you yet.

you hesistate, wanting to be home in time to make dinner, but you can't imagine the library taking too long so you go. she looks at you with a strained pity that you can't stand. he doesn't hit you, so why does she even look at you like that? he'd never do that. he just got back from all that shit with a few screws loose. he never knows what he means when he says it.

he's always sorry. y'know? he's always sorry. sorta.

doesn't hit you but you know how the day will go by the way he says good morning. by the way he wakes up with you -- or without you. know how the night will go by the way he breathes when he comes in through the storm door. by the cadence of his steps on the metal stairs. by the way the van pulls in.

sometimes things break and that's fine cause he just replaces them. he knows he shouldn't have thrown it, he knows he shouldn't have tossed it, he knows. he knows. that's why he gets it the very next day. new plates, new house phone, new coffee pot, new records, new casettes, new picture frames, new flower pots. he doesn't throw them at you. he's only punched the wall twice. he slams his head against it all the time. cause he knows he's not good. he knows. you go to the library and check out some books, laugh at your neighbors jokes, tell her about your weekend in the city visiting his friends. he held your hand in front of everyone and pulled you onto his lap, he joked with you and you laughed the whole time. you went to see a band play that you'd never heard of and he got you a t-shirt and the next morning you all went out for hot chocolate and breakfast and he kissed the whipped cream off your lips and ran his thumb over your engagement ring over and over. he never stopped calling you baby. so charming. so perfect. you don't know what you did to earn it, but you've been chasing it ever since. modeling that week's behavior into this one. tip toes through the tulips of the trailer. jagged. shell like.

you get home from the library and lunch, she even stops with you when you mention you have to go to the grocery store. out of eggs for meatloaf, needed some canned string beans for one of the sides.

it's the best dinner you've made in a while and the mashed potatoes are double whipped and extra buttery because he can never get enough of them. you know that it's little things like that. you love the smile he gets when you tell him you do some things just for him, so blushy and boyish.

'that's so nice, baby,' he gushes, 'thinkin'a me.' and god he gushes. cries when he can't contain it. saw you in a new dress and wiped his eyes. new hair cut sent him into orbit.

so pretty.

you're so beautiful, i don't deserve you.

you're gorgeous i -- i can't even like, think.

presents on your birthday. handwritten notes with tear drops washing over the ink in a wave, blurry letters blue and black, black and blue. he'd never hit you. too in love. too bursting with affection when he looks at you. too nervous when you look at him when he takes you out. when he plays a show. when he sees you get dressed into your pjs at night. you're so good to me. especially when you hold him through those nightmares. when you calm his anxiety, those deep breath panic attacks. the ones that the meds miss when he misses them. you're patient through the mood swings and he always says thank you. he always says it -- you're the only one that understands him. that sees him. sometimes you don't get it. that's what he says at least. you don't get it and that makes him upset. but you're not sure what there is to get. and you try not to get sad about it -- 'bout anything really 'cause you're not the one who got a few screws knocked loose. nothing bad like that happened to you. i mean, sure, maybe some bad things happened to you but not like the way bad things happened to him, right? you wouldn't get it. but he gets you, he tells you all the time. he gets you so well. symbiotic. the only person who knows you, the only person whose been in your skin -- right? at least that's what he says, and he's said it so long you can't help but believe it.

your eyes fall on the newly vased roses he bought you two days ago from the florist near the shop. bright red petals opened and fat, contrasting against the pea green of the walls. you smile at them while you pour gravy over each plate, extra on his mashed potatoes. he kissed you this morning, he was almost late leaving the house -- couldn't stop kissing you. couldn't stop looking at you with those brown eyes, sparkling with a mischief saved for tonight.

the van rolls in as you set the table, still in your outfit from earlier, the books you checked out on the counter need the flowers. the storm door opens off kilter, your throat constricts. you know by the way he doesn't say anything when he comes in the house. work boots kicked off with loud thumps. his jacket swishing with a thwap when he throws it with a grunt to the ground. something bad must've happened at work. 'hey honey,' you say quietly, 'got dinner for you.'

you know better, watching him turn the corner into the dinette, looking down at you from where he stands and you sit. you hold a mug full of orange juice on the table, fingers tapping on it silently while he holds his gaze. 'you goin' somewhere, dressed up like that?' he asks, there's nothing behind those sparkling eyes now. dulled out to hollow brown.

'no,' you shrug, you know how to coreograph your responses now -- still stepping on his toes sometimes, 'went to the library with gina, she just wanted a friend for some errands.'

'you know gina doesn't like me,' he nods, walking to the fridge to grab a beer, 'she doesn't like us together. she hates me.'

'she doesn't hate you, ed,' you assure, voice still calm, mediating, 'no one hates you.'

'your folks hate me, your sister hates me,' he nods, curls bouncing while he takes a swig, like it's normal conversation. so steady, 'you think they like that i got you ever here in this trailer park?'

'my parents don't ha--'

'they do.' and that's final. you don't argue. and he's right. your parents don't like him and that's why you don't call anymore, and they stopped calling you too. so did all your friends from back home.

'so what'd gina tell you about me today, then?' he presses.

'nothin'," you shrug, 'we didn't talk about you.'

'of course not,' he laughs but it's one that sends a chill under your skin, a laugh to not seem so mean when you know he's about to be, 'she was prob'ly tryna set you up with someone. that's why you got all dressed up right? anything to look good for other guys out there.'

's'cuse me?' 'you heard me,' he nods, voice still steady like nothing's wrong, 'that's why you wore all those tight jeans in the city last weekend, right? those dresses? tryna show off to harrington and the guys. don't act like i didn't notice.'

'what are you talking about? why didn't you say anything when we were there?' you heart rate quickens, you try not to get mad.

'i shouldn't have to. but that's how you are, y'know?' he shrugs, another swig, another chuckle, 'makin' dinner and everything, you must've been out there makin' eyes at everyone if you made my favorite.'

'i wasn't doing that,' you urge, voice raising, tears threatening to pool, 'i just made it cause you like it, cause it makes you happy.'

'so you just do anything to make sure i don't get mad? do you even know why you do stuff like this for me?' he asks.

'what are you even saying?' your voice raises again, a mild yell. you're frazzled now, heart racing, head already scrambled.

'don't yell, what're you -- fuck babe, see! this is why gina doesn't like me,' he grits through his teeth, 'cause you're always making a scene over nothing. you're over fuckin' reacting.'

'i --' your voice catches in your throat, quieting, 'i'm sorry? i'm sorry.'

'd'you even know what you're sorry for?' he nearly sneers, 'always sayin' your sorry over nothing. y'know somethin' babe, sorry loses it's meaning when you're sayin' it all the time. it doesn't mean anything from you anymore.'

you nod, losing your resilience, too confused about how quickly you got here -- and he's right. you're always apologizing but half the time you don't even know what you're apologizing for. just that you feel like you need to be sorry. like you need to say sorry.

he holds that stare on you like he's waiting for you to speak again. daring you to say something. you stare down at the wood grain of the table, blank and empty -- numb, even. the mug between your hands is warm from how hard you were gripping the ceramic to keep you grounded.

's'what i thought,' he nods, voice a low rumble while he makes his way to the bathroom.

he'd never hit you.

the slam of the bathroom door makes you flinch.

sometimes you wish he would. maybe it would hurt less than this. at least that physical pain fades, right? at least it wasn't the same dull ache on a bruise that won't go away. are you hemmorhaging? do you just not feel it yet? will it be too late when you do?

he slides into bed with you at night after spending the rest of the evening out back with the other couples and families that were smoking ribs, having a little fire out in the brush. he smells like cigarettes. you could hear his grizzly laugh through the windows while you laid in the dark of your bedroom. too tired after the way he spoke to you to do anything else. everyone's favorite mechanic loverboy in the park.

you feel his fingertips on your shoulder, one of them gliding down the slope of your arm. he presses his lips to your shoulder blade, your eyes shut -- blearing with tears from that dull ache.

'dinner was really good, baby,' he says softly, a whisper.

you try to get out a thank you but it becomes a choke, a sniffle, a gasp. then a cry and then a harder one, remembering how he rolled his eyes at you two weeks ago when you cried after he threw out the love letter you wrote him for your four year anniversary because 'you didn't mean any of that shit anyway'.

he sits up, shushing you softly while his hand smooths over your bicep.

'what is it, sweetheart?' he asks, 'are you mad at me?'

you shake your head no. looking up at him, lying flat on your back. he looks so handsome in the moonlight, concerned eyes and tilted head peering down at you. 'n-no, ed. m'not mad at y-you,' you push out, head still scrambled. you feel guilty about last weekend, about going out today. what if guys really were looking? you know you weren't looking at them but what if they got the wrong idea? gina doesn't know what she's talking about, she's always hated ed. ever since they were kids.

'you just havin' one of your moments?' he asks, soothing voice, 'yeah?' one of your moments. always just one of your moments. couldn't be him, you're just -- maybe you're over thinking it.

'yeah,' you nod, 'm'sorry i went out with gina, baby i -- she didn't say anything bad about you.'

'it's okay,' he smiles, 'm'not mad at you. never mad at my girl.'

'no?' you ask, swallowing hard -- your heart leaps. he's not mad. maybe he just had a rough day.

'no doll, m'never mad at you. you always think i'm mad at you,' he says, thumb brushing away the tears that threatened to roll down the sides of your face to your hair line, 'you need me to kiss it better?'

another sob rips through you, nodding, because you do. you need it. and you sort of hate that you need it. you hate yourself for needing it. but he kisses you and it does feel better. he knows how to kiss you just right, he always has. he knows just where to put his hands. just how to pull away and brush his nose against yours. how to kiss your forehead between affirmations. smooth and understanding, like a movie scene. his kisses are his apologies. his sorry. you accept it every time.

because he doesn't hit you and he never would. in the morning, when the bathroom door slams so hard the walls vibrate, you flinch.