#I've debated bringing them in before this

[softquietsteadylove]

Ohh you have to continue the zombie au!! Them finally meeting sersi and co will be amazing :D

"Welcome, Gilgamesh."

He frowned at those around him. He hadn't given them his name. Usually it was Thena who was deeply distrustful of anyone they came across, but he was happy to take up that mantle in her absence.

That was the worst part about this place, that he had yet to see Thena.

He had woken up in a fit over it, but they had told him - promised him - that he would see her if he kept himself calm. They returned his clothes to him, washed and everything.

"We take in all those who need help," the short doctor, Ajak he had learned, said beside him. The cafeteria was surprisingly bustling with people. "That was how you came to us."

They had told him that Thena had arrived with him on her back, which he couldn't help but doubt. Not that she would do it, but Thena was half his weight at most, and they didn't exactly have food or water to spare, last he remembered.

The last solid memory he did have was of feeling feverish, dragging his feet as they continued towards the next city. He must have been really lagging, because Thena did something they never did, which was commandeer a car.

He could remember being in the backseat, and he could remember Thena's voice whispering sweet things, his head in her lap, her tipping water up to his lips.

All the more reason for him to be wary of these people until he could see Thena for himself. He looked around the place, "I don't see her."

They sighed. He had been a broken record since getting on his feet, but he felt he had good reason to be. The other doctor patted his shoulder, although he flinched away from her. "Thena is just getting back."

"Back?" he frowned and turned. Sersi, the younger, taller doctor, and a third guy in a white coat named Phastos all stepped back from him. They were the only ones he'd met so far. "Where was she?"

"She joined some of our scouts on a run," Phastos attempted to be a voice of reason. "Some of the supplies we needed were for you, so she volunteered to go with them."

He wasn't exactly placated by the news. "So you sent her out there with people she doesn't even know? Are they really gonna watch her back out there? What if they can't protect her?!"

"Gil, please," Sersi joined in the effort to soothe him. "It's a simple run to the closest facility outside the hospital. We've been here a long time--since the beginning, really. We've already sectioned off half the city as safe territory."

Gil huffed. With Phastos behind him and the docs in front, he felt a bit like a caged animal. He looked around the bustling cafeteria again, "fine. When will they be back?"

"It should be any time now," Sersi promised before turning and trotting off.

"Sersi's husband is part of the field team," Ajak supplied in her absence, leading them closer to the rest of the populace. The people already there eyed them and kept their distance, but they didn't exactly pull out pitch forks and torches at the sight of him. "We have some very good people here with us."

Gil watched as Doctor Sersi trotted over to the door, her wavy black ponytail bouncing behind her. She must have seen they were coming, because she ran at the door and launched herself into someone's arms before they were even in the room.

A man walked in with her attached to him, tall and broad shouldered. Gil couldn't hear them, but he had an inkling that he was one of the men who had dragged him inside when Thena no longer could. The other one walked in past the married couple, not even glancing at them.

Finally, far behind the other two, a ghost of a figure hurried into the room and immediately split off and away from everyone. Despite the promise of food, she steered clear of the line for it, pushing a blonde ponytail off her shoulder and pulling off her backpack.

Her clothes had also been washed, and the jacket she was wearing seemed to be new, maybe as a form of protection. But that was definitely his Thena prowling away from the thick of the crowd.

"Thena!"

Heads turned and people jumped out of the way of the huge stranger sprinting across the room. Some of them yelped, as if he were a train barrelling forward on its tracks. But he could only see Thena.

"Gil!" she barely got out before he swallowed her up, his arms snaking around her and his massive form folding over her. Her knees bent in response but he held her close, swinging her around in his arms.

"Thena! You're okay!" he sobbed, openly at that. For all his reluctance to cooperate with their hosts thus far he let himself weep with joy as he finally felt Thena's light frame in his embrace again. She still smelled like fresh air, and she was warm, and she was kind of bony, but soft in the places it mattered. "I-I thought-!"

"Sh, Gil, I'm here," she cooed, running her fingers through his hair as he blubbered over her like a baby. She let him lean his weight on her, his face buried between her neck and her shoulder, their legs stumbling, "it's okay, just breathe."

"I told you--they're too committed to each other, they won't-"

"Ikaris, hush."

"Are we just gonna watch them make out, or...?"

"Give them some space," Ajak urged the rest of her team. Gil pulled his head up to see her waving them back, her back turned to them. She didn't have the distrust in him and Thena that he had with her. "can you blame them?"

"Gil," Thena called to him, pulling his attention back to her. She put her hand to his cheek, her eyes scrubbing over him, "are you okay?"

He nodded, leaning into her touch, "I'm okay. Wh-What about you? I woke up and a-and you-"

"Sorry," Sersi leaned over to offer her apologies, "I voted to move you into the same room, but I got outnumbered."

"We weren't sure what to make of you," the other man who came in alongside Sersi's husband shrugged. "And then you freaked out when she wasn't there, so-"

"So," Gil made a face, "you decided that keeping us apart longer would fix that?"

Ajak laughed, although the guy clearly didn't appreciate it. He huffed, putting his hands on his hips, "hey, big guy, I'm the funny one here, got it?"

"Okay," Ajak spoke to those crowded around them en masse again, "let's let the lovebirds have a bite to eat and settle themselves. We can discuss what happens from here on afterward."

What did she mean by that? But Gil looked down as Thena slipped her hand into his. He was going to have to ignore that 'lovebirds' comment for now too, huh?

"Come on," Thena pulled him by the hand, keeping their fingers intertwined, "you must be starving."

"Well, yeah, but-" he looked around, still feeling on edge in the completely new environment. It was being around people - living people - that had him so on edge.

"I'll tell you everything that's happened," Thena promised him, "after you eat."

He just sighed, looking at her like she was the sun and he'd been underground for years. He would do anything if it meant he didn't have to let go of her hand yet, "fine."

#Thenamesh Zombie AU #so a new chapter begins eh? #thank you for asking for more of this au #I really am delighted to see it come back #and yes we're finally meeting the rest of the crew! #I've debated bringing them in before this #but it was never the right time before #anyway Gil wakes up and he's like where's Thena #he puts his clothes back on #where's Thena #they say come eat something and he says where is my wife?!! #Thena tells him all about how she got him here and the infection and how worried she was #she doesn't tell him about collapsing and having to be restrained #he says okay he'll hear them out #but they're on thin ice for not letting him see that she was okay as soon as he woke up #he's extra wary of Kingo and Ikaris #what do you mean his precious Thena went on a supply run with these two strangers?! #Ikaris says they can't trust them because they're too devoted to each other #Sersi: you used to be romantic #Kingo: I doubt that he was ever romantic

[tantamounttoflirtation]

If they announce a s4 I genuinely might have to log tf off. I don't even want to see what sort of dumpster fire it would be. Maybe I'm just being pessimistic, but I don't see much hope for it being good or worthwhile. I'm going to rant in the tags so if you disagree with my opinion thats cool you can just ignore me and continue scrolling :)

#h talks #I've said before yk maybe I'm wrong and there will be one and it'll be amazing but the chances are so so so so slim #what show can you think of thats been rebooted 9-10 years after it ended and been Good and didn't Fuck Everything Up? #cause I can't think of very many #reboots and remakes are the death of creativity and entertainment. some things need to be left alone as they are #like again if it was Perfect that would be great. but theres so much room for disappointment #to me there are very few plot points they could follow that would be Good #theres no point in having a plot about them being tracked down because they Shouldn't be caught. no one wants them in jail #and if they DO get caught? what was the fucking point . like it completely undermines the og ending #I don't see any reason to bring in Clarice. mostly because her character was blended with Will's a fair amount so they'd have to change her- #personality and canon plot a Whole bunch. which isn't bad per say but ... yk again whats the point of having her if she's not Her #so then ok maybe we focus on Will and Hannibal honeymooning together and killing and cannibalizing people and being on the run #Great Wonderful thats probably the best outcome. except.... its already been done so many times in fic that ppls expectations are HIGH #and do you Really expect something like that to air and not cause insane fucking discourse and then get cancelled? #do you WANT to invite an entire new group of even more annoying people into the fandom so we can rehash the same fucking debates about- #queerbaiting and age gaps and ethics? fuck no #ok end rant lol

[zeezelweazel]

Could you write a bottom Leah smut where they are long-distance and meet each other again during national duty Leah is desperate so R takes her to the showers/a random room or Smth and she has to be quiet. 💕

Leah Williamson| Together at last|

______________________________________

So sad Leah has had yet another injury :(

I've gotten so many requests for bottom leah I can't wait to get through them all (I'm debating on writing a lia fic as well but idk) sorry this one wasn't really proof read

TW: semi public sex, fingering, degradation

____________________________________________________

You love camp. It's always great to get close with the girls, spend time with them while doing the thing you love most, playing football.

Undoubtedly the one thing you like the most about camp is that you get to be with Leah. Your captain and girlfriend that you adore so much but so rarely get to see. With Leah playing in England for Arsenal and you playing in Spain for Barcelona you don't get to see eachother very often. Which only meant that when you did get to see eachother you were very touchy. The entire team teased you for your clinginess but you wouldn't trade these camps for the world.

Your teammates, fortunately, didn't exactly know the extent of your clinginess either. The moment Leah looks at you, you can see it clearly in her deep blue eyes, the absolute need for you to wreck her. Which is something you can't do during camp but that doesn't mean you'll leave your loving girlfriend needy.

You're always in the mood for her, so when Leah tries to drag you away to the showers you fail to contain the knowing smirk spreading across your face. You've been watching Leah for quite a while now and the way the blonde was bitting her lips and squirming around in her cubby bench gave it all away. Leah isn't scared to drag you in a random room in the training facilities and have you fuck her there. You've done it a million times now. Usually she prefers having you all for herself but right now she needs you.

You both quickly get rid of your clothes and jump on one of the shower stalls. Your giggles are interrupted by the water falling down on your naked bodies. Leah sighs and rolls her shoulders, finally feeling her tense muscles relax. You take the opportunity to slide in behind her and put your hands on her sides. Leah hums appreciatively when you start moving them up and down her body with your fingers brushing her breasts just enough for Leah to remember what you're here to do. The blonde gasps when your fingers drop lower and softly tease her inner thighs only to climb higher once again.

Before Leah can react you move your hands up and grab her tits, squeezing the tender flesh harshly. Leah's whine turned into a yelp when you pinched her nipples and you chuckled at how desperate she was already with her knees buckling and her head thrown back at your shoulder.

"Are you wet for me baby?"

Leah chokes on a whimper when you answer your own question by running one of your fingers through her wet folds. The running water does nothing to mask how her juices stick on your fingers. You present your digits to Leah who immediately takes them in her mouth and sucks them clean. You feel her moans vibrating on your fingers when she tastes herself on you. You don't waste any time before plunging two fingers in her wet cunt and Leah moans, loud and high pitched as if you two aren't fucking on public showers.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut you slut."

Leah brings her hands up and grips your biceps while you continue moving your fingers rapidly in and out of her. She bites her bottom lip hard, desperate to keep the noises to a minimum. You smirked, knowing exactly how loud Leah gets you're sure she's not going to be quiet for much longer.

You decided to take advantage of the milky skin exposed and you leaned in to suck and kiss along the length of her neck. Leah's head spins with all the pleasure but it's not enough to sent her over the edge.

The captain starts grinding her hips against your hand and when the palm of it hits her clit delightfully Leah lets a loud whine escape her throat. Your reaction is instantaneous, your hand stills inside her and the other one came down against her ass with a loud smack. Leah gasped and squirmed when your hand made contact with her ass once more. You chuckled before gripping her head and twisting it so she looks directly in your eyes.

"Do you want everyone to know that you're a whore?" Leah squeals when you pinch her clit harshly. She tried to squirm out of your hold but you were stronger, your hands keeping her pressed firmly against you. Leah secretly loves disobeying you just to rile you up so you fuck her so good she can't walk the next day.

You scoffed when Leah clenched around your fingers and started moving them again. This time you decided to help her by angling your hand just right. With your fingers hitting her soft spot repeatedly and your palm grinding against her throbbing clit, Leah was anything but quiet. Moans and whines left her mouth completely uncontrollably and you were sure that if anyone walked outside of the showers they'd hear your girlfriend being absolutely wrecked by you.

"What if one of the girls is outside right now huh? How do you think they'd react to their captain being a fucking slut?" Leah moaned louder and grinned in delight. The fact that she was enjoying this made your head fuzzy. The thought that your girlfriend was getting off at the prospect that there might be someone listening to her being fucked was making your own stomach pool with heat.

"Gods I'm close! Please, harder!" You chuckled once more and removed your hands from Leah completely. Before the blonde could start begging you pushed her against the wall so that you two are now face to face and you finally kissed her. Your tongue made way into her mouth and you both groaned when your tongues brushed against eachother Leah took your hands in hers and led them to where she needs it most.

You slipped two fingers inside her wet hole and with your thumb you rubbed her clit. All of Leah's whimpers and moans were swallowed by your mouth while your fingers pushed her closer to the edge. Leah's thighs clamped down around your hand and you knew she was close.

Leah comes soon after with a silent scream but your hands continue their shallow and strong thrusts. When Leah comes down from her high you are already busy with lathering your hair. She smiles and wraps her arms around you.

"Round two when we get back to the hotel?"

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#wlw #female reader #smut #woso x reader #bottom character #dom reader #sub character #woso #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso smut #woso imagine #leah williamson smut #leah williamson imagine #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader

[undeadcannibal]

imagine one of the Fem! rookies getting lil skeleton hands tattooed on her hands, and ghost just-

*INSTANT BONER*

Summary: Ghost can’t help but be turned on when he notices the Recruits’ new tattoos. Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader

Genre: One-shot, request(s) Word count: 1,138

Warnings: Mature rating, mention(s) of sexual acts.

A/N: Ooh, I had fun with this one, Anon. Was tempted to turn it into a full fic, but figured I’d be an asshole and tease y’all since I write tons of smut otherwise. Whoops! Anywho, thank you so much for the request, Anon. I hope y’all enjoy it~ Also, I apologize if this has a lot of mistakes. I’ve been slammed with allergies, mental stuff, and work, so I’m all sorts of fucked lol. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost paid little mind to most of the rookies they trained. At least, he had before until he'd met you a few months back. Price had mentioned to 141 he was interested in possibly having each of them bring some new recruits under their wing to help show them the ropes. He figured if anyone could get any of them ready, it'd be his boys. Each of them eventually had someone signed to them to help train. Ghost's recruit certainly was interesting, to say the least. 

John had figured with Ghost being more reserved than the rest of the group, it might be easier if he had a recruit that kept to themselves more than the rest. He was thankful for that. The less he had to worry about babysitting, the better. Thankfully, that never seemed to be the case with the recruit Price had assigned to him. 

You went by the call sign Mouse. 

At first, he'd assumed it was for your small stature, but after he'd heard whispers from the others, he quickly realized it was due to your specialty for silence and speed. Apparently, you were just as quiet as you were quick in your fieldwork. That he could appreciate. Yet, aside from that, he didn't know much about you even after weeks of training together. 

Aside from learning the truth behind your call sign, he'd also come to notice that - surprisingly - you were covered in numerous tattoos.

Every time the two of you sparred together, he found himself discovering a new tattoo he hadn't seen before or a blank spot that had yet to be filled with ink. 

Eventually, somewhere around the two-month mark, he found himself asking you about them after a successful session. You'd finally managed to break out of a particular grapple you were struggling with thanks to the size difference between you two. However, Ghost refused to relent until you'd gotten the hang of it. Your enemies wouldn't play fair if they towered over you, so he had to prepare you for any sort of outcome to give you the best chance of survival possible. Still, that didn't mean he was so strict as to not celebrate the small victories. 

As the two of you were hydrating after training, he'd found it in him to comment on your tattoos for whatever reason. 

"Noticed you had a blank spot there." He'd comment, glancing down at the blank space of flesh on your hands. It'd surprised him to see your arms covered yet you still had yet to choose something for them. Maybe you didn't care for hand tattoos, he wondered... 

"Have any plans for 'em?" 

You paused in bringing your water bottle to your lips, pursing them as you hummed softly. Seemingly debating on how to answer his question. 

"Mm, yeah... I've got a few ideas in mind for them, but have yet to settle on anything yet." 

He was content to leave it at that had it not been for your next response. 

"I've got a few ideas in mind but haven't settled on anything just yet. Tell you what though, when I do get those spots filled in, you'll be the first one I show them to." 

By the time that'd happened, it'd been a few months later and he'd pretty much forgotten the interaction until he'd bumped into you again on his way out for a smoke break. You'd stopped to say hi and chat for a bit before he suddenly saw your eyes widening. A giddy smile broke out on your face shortly afterward. 

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Raising the sleeves of your long sleeve top, you also quickly rid yourself of those pair of gloves he often saw you wearing. "Check out the new tattoos I got while I was back home." 

With your forearms and hands bare to him, he could see the fresh, black ink now covering the spaces on your appendages that previously clear soft skin. 

The moment he realized what the tattoos were, Simon was thankful for the strait-laced control of his reactions. Certain if he wasn't so strict with himself that he'd be giving off numerous micro-expressions showing his interest in your new pieces. 

Of all the tattoos you had to get, it just had to be a stylistic representation of your wrists and hands skeletal system. 

Rationally, he understood that the new set of ink likely had no meaning behind it - most of his own didn't - but a smaller, possibly more primal part of him wanted to puff up his chest. Preen at the thought of everything you could have chosen, it was something similar to the gloves he often wore himself. Only much more permanent. And attractive. 

Fucking hell, he was down bad over something that meant nothing at all. 

Just so he didn't break down and smile, Ghost took a long and deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the entirety of the smoke from his lungs. Watching the vapors dissipate entirely before finally having it in him to look at you once again. 

"How'd you do during the fingers and knuckles?" 

You laughed sweetly and softly, causing him to feel an odd sense of pride in being the cause behind that laughter. Especially when he took notice of the way your cheeks appeared even softer and rounder than usual as you did so. 

Eyes down, soldier. Look at the tattoos, not her damn squishable cheeks. 

Watching you wiggle your fingers in his direction, you grinned up at him cheekily. 

"Pain comes with the territory. Besides, I kinda enjoy that type of pain, and it's also a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy." You joked. 

Simon felt like a pitiful man when he felt the familiar stirring of arousal deep within his lower belly shortly after. His mind already drifting towards mental images of you down on your knees before him. Opening his pants just so you could wrap those tattooed fingers around the base of his cock. Stroke him till he grew hard and began to twitch within your palms. Eventually - given your permission - he'd paint the dark ink with his release, claiming you in a way and--

He needed to stop his thoughts before he began to spiral down the rabbit hole that was his sudden lewd thoughts that came on with your new tattoos. 

He was going to need another cigarette as soon as he finished his first one. 

Clearing his throat, Simon glanced at you with dilated, bright eyes. 

"They look good on you, kid." 

Even if he wouldn't admit it aloud, Ghost secretly saw it as a secret bond between the two of you.

Now, you had a permanent mark of his favorite pair of gloves on your body.

The thought alone turned him on much more than he'd ever thought possible. 

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #oneshots #requests #anonymous #my writing

[webshooterrr9]

Take Care

Act Two Astarion x gn!reader

just fluff and angst if you squint, no smut

Sigh. "You don't have to do this, darling. I'm not some sort of child in need of coddling."

Despite his standoffish tone, Astarion makes no attempt to move away as you tend to the cuts on his arm. It had been a long day of adventuring, and your party most unfortunately ran into a horde of goblins on your way back to camp for the knight. Being stronger after a recent feed, Astarion fought most of them - giving him the most injuries.

You're being far too gentle. He watches closely in the dim lantern light as you wet the rag for cleaning. A part of him wishes you'd just hurt him instead. He knows how to deal with pain. He doesn't know how to deal with this.

Whatever this is, his mind tells him it needs to stop. Stop before he starts to care. He doesn't want to care about you. If he does, you'll be another thing for Cazador to use against him when the time comes.

He can't have that.

"Oh, shut up." you wave a dismissive hand before resuming your cleaning, gently wiping away the dirt and grime from his wounds. You sat comfortably in his lap as you worked. Another form of intimacy he was unsure about.

"I've received worse and lived, love. I'll be alright without your babying."

He would never admit it, but Astarion almost... enjoyed the way you so carefully tended to him. But it felt wrong. Why would you do this? It wasn't like his life was on the line, the goblins only inflicted minor injuries.

"I know you have, I've seen the poem that... he carved into your back. You showed me, remember?"

Astarion winces at the memory, and you feel sort of bad for bringing it up. But he just rolls his eyes, covering up the discomfort with a scoff.

That wretched devil. That evil, evil man.

"We're still travel companions, so I want to help you. Regardless of how minor it is." you continue, speaking slowly as you bandage up the cuts.

"Because I'm incapable?" there's a bite to his voice, one that he didn't mean to be there. But he couldn't help it. This was so... odd. "I managed to take care of myself just fine before you came along."

You look up at him, almost with a glare at his accusation. "I never said you were incapable, 'Starion. But you have to let others help you once in a while."

Gods, he hated it. He hated how caring you were, how sweetly you spoke to him, even when he was rude. How fondly you pictured him in your mind, even when he had done nothing but manipulate you so far.

How could you he so naive? He was obviously using you. And yet, you seemed to care about him, which pissed him off more.

He doesn't deserve someone as tender as you. As kind and caring.

Astarions grits his teeth as he speaks. "I don't have to let you do anything. I don't deserve that."

Why did he say that? How stupid of him so seem so vulnerable around you. And why does he want to curl up against you and let it all out? Why does he want you to wrap him up in your arms and whisper into his hair and tell him everything is going to be okay?

What is wrong with him?

You wrap up his cut tightly, giving him a glare. "You're wrong." you replied, short and direct. Your stare made it clear that this wasn't up for debate.

"You deserve just as much as everyone else. If not more, given what you've been through."

Astarion glares right back. If there was one thing he could do, it was argue. "You know nothing about me. I barely even told you half of it."

You don't know why he has to be so stubborn about this. Maybe it's his nature. Or maybe he's just too much of a coward to admit that he's actually starting to develop feelings for you. Astarion doesn't know which.

"I'm objectively the worst person on this team. You should be helping the others. Lae'zel got all scratched up too, you know."

"They've got each other." you argue back, just as stubborn as the elf. "But you, you've closed yourself off from everyone. Shut them out."

"If I don't take care of you, no one will. The Hells know that you wouldn't take care of yourself, either. You're too self-loathing for that."

When the hell did you become so perceptive? How in the world did you come to that conclusion? He wasn't self hating, he was just telling the truth. He was awful, evil. He knew it to be true.

...

Shit. Maybe you were right.

"Fine. Maybe your words have some truth in them." he sighs, not daring to look you in the eyes as he admits it. "You're right. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Damn it. Now he wants to hug you. The feeling he's been trying to avoid the entire time is bubbling up, threatening to engulf him.

Does it make him weak to want to be coddled and comforted by you? Would it make him just as pathetic as he was under Cazador's thumb? Would allowing himself this pampering, this affection, be nothing more than something to regret?

"I'm always right." you scoff. "You'd have picked up on that by now if you weren't so aloof."

You slide off of his lap once you're done bandaging, giving him some space. But you don't leave his tent.

You stay there, sitting in front of him, as a silent show of solidarity. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter how much you try to push me away."

The urge to pull you close and never let you go is overwhelming him. Astarion's not sure if he can trust himself to resist it.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly, lowering his head a bit shamefully. "Why are you so insistent on helping me? I'm not worth it."

"Because you are worth it. And I won't stop until you believe it."

"I will not allow you to fall into tragedy when you can be so much more than that. I've seen your potential - on the battlefield and in camp. I refuse to let you waste your life in solitude."

Astarion wants to believe you. Desperately.

The evidence is staring him right in the face: the way that you care for him, how he feels secure in your presence.

But if he believes you, he can't hide any longer. He can't seek shelter behind the walls he's carefully erected within himself. And he can't shield himself from the vulnerability of admitting that he needs you. So instead he just says:

"Shut up."

You sigh. No matter how much you try to break him down, he stays persistent. "Fine."

"I'll stop talking, but you'd be a fool if you think I'm leaving."

He scoffs. "So what, you're just going to sit there and watch me all night?"

"If that's all you'll allow me, yes."

Allow. Such a sacred, unheard word to him.

Astarion didn't even have a response to that. In the end, he didn't have enough energy to make a snarky counter. And before he can form a coherent sentence and protest, his body makes a decision for him.

The elf slumps forward and places his head in your lap, curling up in a way that resembles a kitten. A stray seeking shelter.

Despite his efforts of stubborness, he closes his eyes and lets his body go slack.

He wants this.

You're relieved. For a moment, you sit still, not wanting to scare him away with any sudden movements. He needed this peace, and you wouldn't dare take it from him.

Slowly, you start to rake your fingers through his curls. Slowly, gently. Like a mother comforting her child.

He needs it. More than ever.

When you begin to run your fingers through his hair, it's like all his defenses dissolve away. Astarion lets out a quiet hum of contentment and presses his head further into your warmth, making himself as comfortable as possible in this precious moment.

Time seems to slow down as you sit there. There's no need for words. After so long of being taken and abused by his master, Astarion finds himself oddly calm. Safe.

It's strange to feel this comfortable. Even now he should have to urge to try and escape your touch, but he's not feeling those impulses.

He takes a deep breath and relaxes into your touch. The tension and discomfort that seemed to define his existence is melting away. For the first time in centuries, he feels he's where he belongs.

As you continue to pet his hair, you hear a quiet whisper come from your companion.

"Thank you."

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #fluff #bg3 #my baby deserves the world omg #i love him #webshooterrr9

[yesimwriting]

in ur bestfriend!felix series do you think farleigh cares for the reader even if it’s just a little bit? like we all know how he can be (#1 shit stirrer) but it really got me thinking!! i don’t think he cared much when she first started hanging out with felix he was probably like ‘whatever just another one of his charity cases’ but would that change later on when he sees how felix really does care for her and she’s not going anywhere anytime soon or ever possibly sorry for the long rant!! i was rereading and the one u wrote were he refused to let her get high because of felix made me think 😭🫶

a/n omg me and @ker0senebunny were just discussing their dynamic potential

farleigh and reader have such potential for an oddly endearing frenemy arch,, they definitely still bully each other, but they bond over gossiping and (lightly, at least in reader's case) judging others, especially after farleigh finally realizies that reader isn't another one of felix's phases

also can def see them growing a smidge protective of each other?? like if farleigh makes a mean joke about reader they laugh,, but if someone else makes it they both kind of side eye each other 😭

anyways here’s a drabble that also briefly features slightly flustered felix and socially unsure ollie

"Here." Farleigh's standing in front of your spot on the couch, arm stretched forward lazily. You blink, eyeing what looks like a joint skeptically.

Farleigh isn't quite looking at you as he continues to hold out his offering, but he isn't moving away. You extend a hand, taking it from him cautiously. Smoking tonight wasn't really a goal, but you're not exactly feeling against it.

You sit up a little straighter, mentally debating if his attempt at socializing with you is a result of the small scale setting of tonight's plans or if he's just that high. Maybe it's both. "Thought I was on weed probation."

He sighs. "Do you want it or not?"

You tilt your chin up to frown at him, "Moody."

Farleigh's eyes finally meet yours. His scleras are tinged pink, making his gaze seem far off and slightly irritated. You bring the joint to your lips out of the instinctual desire to seem amicable. Farleigh's far from your best friend, but recently, there's been an undertone of understanding in your catty comments. More like Farleigh laughing with you than at you.

He steps past your legs before sitting next to you. Not the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you, but still, strange. Normally, on more low key nights like this, when it's just some of Felix's closer friends hanging around in an off campus apartment instead of a full fledged rager, Farleigh's close to the center of the action. Maybe he's more bothered by Oliver's presence than you thought.

After a beat of silence, Farleigh explains flatly, "It's different tonight." You're not sure you're following, but there's a good chance that Farleigh's high enough for it not to matter. "You're not drunk and tonight's...calmer, there's nothing for Felix to worry himself sick over."

You roll your eyes. "Felix doesn't get worried sick over me." You take another hit of the joint, pretending the gesture doesn't feel performative. "And either way, it's not his issue."

Farleigh scoffs. "Please."

"Please what?"

He leans forward, propping his head up on one elbow. "Sometimes you seem so smart, it's nice to know that in some ways you're still like a little kid."

Not the worst backhanded compliment he's ever hit you with. "Mhm."

Farleigh lets himself slump against the couch before extending a hand in your direction. A silent request. You hand him back the joint. "Oh, you're cold? Take my jacket. You're thirsty? I've already gotten you a water. You're tired? Give me a minute to say goodbye to some friends and then I'll tuck you in, lovie."

The general teasing is easy to dismiss until he tacks on Felix's favorite nickname for you. It doesn't feel right to hear it in a negative context. "Leave him alone. Felix is my friend and he's nice." You tap your fingers against your knee, body feeling much too relaxed for the annoyance that wants to break through. "It's not weird or anything."

Farleigh takes his time letting more smoke fill his lungs. "Defensive." You roll your eyes. "Look around, every girl here wishes Felix was that friendly with them." His sentence is a hint too loud for you to be comfortable. The last thing you need is for some girl to take it the wrong way and blame you for it. "His new lapdog probably feels the same."

It takes you a second longer than it should to get the reference. You're not exactly close with Oliver. He's new, and Felix really enjoys his company, but you've yet to bond with him. Something in you just hasn't been able to get there yet. Sometimes you'll see what Felix sees in him, but that isn't the same as feeling close to him. You want to like him, though, so you're sure it's only a matter of time before you click over something. Felix and you spend too much time together for it not to work out between you and Oliver eventually.

"That's mean." You turn to better face Farleigh, your shoulder sinking against the seat's cushioning at an uncomfortable angle. "Like really mean."

Part of the defense is instinctual. You're not one to make fun of people behind their backs just to act like you're friends in front of them. But it's also more than that. Felix wouldn't let anyone talk about you like that, and without him or Oliver there to fight against Farleigh's snark, it feels wrong to let that kind of thing go.

"Fine. Better analogy. Sometimes the way Oliver looks at Felix feels like he wants to be his escort, or something."

You understand what Farleigh's getting at almost immediately. There's this urge to please quality about Oliver that you can't judge him for. People want Felix to like them. People want Felix to love them. It's not a draw you'd ever fault anyone for falling for. But something about the concept of an 'escort' in this context makes you want to laugh. You bite your tongue.

Farleigh holds out the joint again. You take it back instinctually, taking a quick hit to avoid having to say anything right away. "Yeah, but isn't that everyone with Felix?"

You're not sure what the goal of your response is. A poor attempt at changing the subject and steering the conversation away from making fun of someone with no one there to defend them without alienating Farleigh entirely. It's a joke, and not a very good one, but with the way you and Farleigh start cracking up, no one would ever be able to tell.

"We're..." You try through a fit of giggles, "We're awful."

"No," Farleigh shakes his head once lazily, "Not awful. We're familial bonding."

You squint at him as he plucks the joint from between your fingers. "We're not related."

Farleigh brings the joint to his lips, taking a deep inhale. "No," he mumbles, "I'm just getting ahead of the inevitable."

It takes you a beat longer than it should to understand his reference. "Farleigh." He's smiling slightly, the look smug. "Felix and I are just friends. You know that."

His head falls against the back of the couch. "Does anyone ever get along with their in-laws?"

You steal the joint from him before letting your back hit the cushioning. "Shut up."

With your body angled forward, you can see the center of the living room. Felix is near the entrance to the kitchen, Oliver by his side.

When Felix's eyes land on yours, he grins. You smile back before finally bringing the joint back to your lips. By the time you're exhaling, you can see Felix nudging Oliver's shoulder.

"Here we go," Farleigh sighs, taking back the joint.

You ignore the comment in favor of tracking Felix's path across the room. The world parts for him, as always.

"Hi." You beam, stretching a hand forward as soon as Felix is within reach. He grabs your hand immediately, squeezing your palm against his. "Felix, Oliver."

Oliver nods once at the acknowledgement, "Hey."

Felix tugs on your arm gently. "Lovie, where've you been?" His thumb brushes against your knuckles. "Been looking for you."

"I've been here," you admit, "I was waiting for you guys to get back with everyone's drinks and then Annabel wanted to sit...and then Farleigh."

Felix nods as if you've said is something of great importance. "Farleigh treating you okay?"

Farleigh tilts his head, halfheartedly glaring at Felix. You grin. "Yeah, we're just chatting."

"Chatting," he muses, looking between you and Farleigh. Before you can respond, Felix is moving to sit, taking up the last of the couch's remaining space. He looks up at Oliver, noting the lack of room for a fourth person. Felix squeezes our hand. "Sit with me?"

You nod, instantly understanding what he's getting at. You're sure Farleigh will hold you leaving your spot to give Oliver the opportunity to sit next to him against you, but there's not much else you can do, so you stand.

Felix is pulling you towards him before you can fully register the fact that you're standing. You frown, an attempt at a wordless scolding. He beams at you, the picture of affectionate innocence.

As soon as you're sitting on his lap, he's setting one hand on your knee and the other on your shoulder. Felix is always warm in the same way. There's a soothingness to it, a familiarity that you can always trust.

Oliver doesn't move until Felix's hand drifts away from your leg to pat the now open spot on the couch. Farleigh leans back slightly to make it easier to throw you a look that seems to say that Oliver's proving his earlier point.

You don't generally find Farleigh's snideness funny. You're not in the habit at laughing at his comments or behaving differently in hopes of winning him over. But, there's something about the solidarity of the look paired with your high. You laugh.

"What?" Felix asks, leaning forward to rest his chin against your shoulder.

You shake your head. "Nothing." A pinch of guilt nips at you. "I'm--I'm high."

"Could tell." Felix grins, dipping his head forward to press a kiss against the start of your back. "Farleigh's a terrible influence, hard to imagine what the two of you were up to before me and Ollie got here."

Maybe it's the lingering guilt, or maybe it's because Oliver's been almost completely silent since he got here and you know what it's like to be that person. You don't know what it is, but something makes you want to look over at Oliver. "Don't know, what do you think we were up to, Oliver?"

"Oh," he starts, tapping a finger against the edge of his solo cup as if something about your sudden attention startled him. "Up to no good, 'm sure."

You smile. Oliver and you may not be close, but at least he doesn't have an issue with carrying on a bit. Some of Felix's friends do. The first time Felix left you alone at one of these things, you made the mistake of making a joke in front of a girl who just stared at you.

"Little faith," you accuse with a shake of your head that indicates a disappointment your smile doesn't match.

"We were talking about inevitability."

Felix turns his head to look at Farleigh, "And what's inevitable?"

Your nails press into the skin of your leg. Some instinct tells you to beat Farleigh to the punch. "Oh, our wedding, apparently."

Felix tenses. "Wh--what?"

"To Farleigh," you clarify as quickly as possible, "I promise I'm not planning on proposing any time soon, so you can relax."

His hand finds your knee again. "Right," Felix sighs through a dry laugh, "Cause I--" Felix pauses, his forehead falling to your shoulder. "Farleigh...he'll say anything when high, it's..." He scoffs.

You turn your head with no warning. Felix's head slips off your shoulder. He pouts. "So the thought of being married to me is that bad?"

"No." He stretches out the vowel sound in an attempt to buy himself some time. "I--" He leans in closer, eyes flitting away from you and towards your lap. "I didn't--not like--"

You laugh. "I'm making fun of you, Lex." His skin is still slightly flushed, a pink tinge to his cheeks that's almost masked by the low lighting. "Y'can relax."

Felix's lips part in mock offense. "Lovie." He leans his head forward, hiding his face against the side of your neck.

You giggle, lifting a hand to brush your fingers through his hair. "I know, I'm mean."

"Very." He's quiet for a moment, head resting against you even though the angle can't be comfortable. "It wouldn't be bad." Felix whispers the sentence so quickly and quietly you almost feel like you've imagined them.

Before you can respond, Felix lifts his head slightly, setting his chin back on your shoulder. "Me and Ollie were talking about leaving early, watching that movie you rented." He squeezes your arm, the gesture warm. "If you want to."

"Yeah," you grin, "Sounds fun."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains

#bestfriend!felix #bestfriend!felix x reader #felix x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #felix catton #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

[strawb3rry-acid]

More König Headcanons

Just some more König headcanons I wanted to throw out there while I finish working on an analysis of his personality. It's taking longer than I first expected lol.

More of these are fairly random, but there's some involving relationships, his personality, and other things. Just random, and fairly soft stuff ♡

꙳︼❍︼꙳

❍ Admittedly, I don't think this man is the type too be considered "attractive" by the majority of people(I know there's some debate on whether or not the glitch showing his face is truly his face or not. Personally, I'm on the fence here, so I wanna add my little twist to it since it's mentioned that it's rumored what's under his mask is even scarier than his intimidating presence.)

❍ The type too hide things up high if someone pisses him off just out of petty spite. He'll gladly watch them struggle till they will, probably, have too ask him for help. It gives him that "ha, I win" rush. Spiteful, cheeky bastard.

❍ I've mentioned this before, but I think he's got a soft spot for women. Having been in the military, and having rescued victims of human trafficking (it was mentioned in his bio at one point, but I think it's been removed for some reason) he's seen the violence, and bigotry women face, and can be pretty protective. He may have severe social anxiety, but he won't hesitate too step in if he senses some jackass is harassing a woman.

❍ Speaking of which, I do think he's the type too step in, and shut shit down if someone's being mistreated, and has issues speaking up for themselves. It's in his own quiet, subtle way of course(Death glares, firm grabs if needed, etc), but he'll still likely step in if he feels it's necessary. (It just makes sense to me considering his past with bullying, him specializing in hostage rescue, as we'll as some of his voice lines expressing deep loyalty, and his likely enjoyment of being helpful. I don't think he takes too kindly to disrespect. Specifically if it's someone who's innocent, and who's been respectful/kind too him. If it's someone he enjoys being around, then he'll definitely step in).

❍ Neither a dog, nor a cat person. I think he's fairly indifferent too both, but if he had too chose, he'd chose dog's. He likes cats as he relates too their typically solitary behavior, but enjoys the fact that dog's tend too be very affectionate, and loving animals.

❍ I feel like he's a very competitive person. He enjoys a good challenge as it gives him a chance too show off his skills, specifically in combat. I wouldn't recommend trying to compete with him though. He can become pretty ruthless depending on the situation, especially if he feels he's losing, and will seek to out do them. Trust me, with his determination, the other person will lose.

❍ He's used to his height by now, and is very cautious of it, but he'll still bump his head, and knock things over sometimes(I know a man how's 7ft, and he's always doing that lol.)

❍ On another note, I think he has mixed feeling's about his height. On one hand, he loves the fear it brings to enemies out on the field. On the other hand, he despises the attention it draws too him off of the field. He's a very private man who likes to slip by unnoticed, and his height makes it difficult for him too do so. The fact that he intimidates innocent people tends to make him feel pretty disheartened as well.

❍ In a partner, I don't think he cares about looks. The fact that their accepting of him, and love him is all he needs, and wants. He'd love a plus sized partner, a muscular partner, a thin partner, a tall partner, a short partner, and everything in between. As long as their healthy, and happy he doesn't give a rat's ass.

❍ He definitely has plenty of stretch marks. He's a tall guy after all, and he probably grew tall very quickly.

❍ I don't think he's the most touchy person in the world, but he doesn't mind it either. While he doesn't like being touched by strangers in the slightest, he has no issues with loved ones touching him. It's just probably something he won't really initiate himself very often unless it's more subtle touches(think pats on the back, or gently squeezing shoulders). Instead of touch, he more so just let's people he cares for linger in his space, and will keep them closer too him.

❍ I've mentioned this before as well, but I think he's a gamer, especially when it comes to games involving some form of combat. Video game wise, I think he'd enjoy what most consider too be "dad" games. Video games, and board games would be one of his favorite ways too bond with loved one's. He can get really riled up to an amusing degree.

❍ Cannot tolerate spicy foods to save his life, but will eat them too seem tough.

❍ Very bad when it comes to expressing affection through words, and touches. He tries, but he's just so damn awkward, and is worried about doing/saying something that'll make them uncomfortable. Much more prefers too show affection through act's of service.

❍ However, he does have his moments of being very physically, and verbally affection. This will likely happen when he's comfortable being around the person, he's been away from them for a long time, and/or has seen some really horrible things that remind him of the fact he could lose them at any moment. If it's the case that he's seen something horrendous, then he's lingering around them all the time, and it can be hard to pry him off of them.

❍ Always checking in with people he's close to. He has a very deep understanding of what it's like to be alone, and never wants them too feel that way.

#cod mw2 #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #mw2 #cod modern warfare #modern warefare 2 x reader #modern warefare ii #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #cod #call of duty #cod mw3

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knows there's only one way to contend with what Carl did, and he will gladly do it for you. All he wants is his house, his kid and his girl. You on the other hand don't know quite how to deal with anything that's going on, because it all seems out of your control. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, fighting, blood, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You were so anxious for your first day of work, you actually woke up way too early and spilled blazing hot coffee all over your scrubs, forcing you to make a detour back to the bedroom to get changed. All you seemed to be able to think about was that video. That goddamn video. You wished you never looked in that box in the attic.

Once again, you were on the verge of tears as you pulled on a clean top and went to wake Noah up for the day. Everything felt like too much right now unless he was with you. The fact that you were as dependent on Noah as he was on you was probably nothing to brag about, but he really lit up every time you read to him or made him food. And you felt much better inside when he was snuggled up with you or holding your hand. 

You felt like his mom. You felt like you belonged here with him. He trusted you to take care of him, and you always would. But your confidence where Bradley was concerned felt stunted now, and you couldn't even talk to him about it. If you were even strong enough to bring it up at all. 

Noah climbed out of bed and went right to you for a hug, never questioning if he was welcome with you. "Morning, sweet Noah," you whispered against his soft hair. "Did you have happy dreams?"

He yawned and said, "Yeah. I was a pink dinosaur, and all of the other dinosaurs were afraid of me. So I got to eat all the Skittles."

"Wow," you said with a laugh as you carried him into the kitchen for breakfast. "That's the best dream I've ever heard of."

"Yeah, I know." 

He ate some eggs while you successfully drank your coffee and vanilla creamer without spilling it this time. And when you dropped him off at daycare, the same girl was working at the front desk.

"Hi, Noah," she said sweetly before handing you the clipboard to sign with a bland expression. You kissed Noah on the cheek and watched him walk in with the other kids before you signed your name. "And will you be picking him up again today, or should we be expecting another babysitter?"

You froze, and a startled laugh escaped your lips. "I'll be picking him up. And I'm the only babysitter." She appraised you again, so you added, "Only the best for Lieutenant Bradshaw and his son," before you spun on your heel and strolled out to the parking lot. 

You were driving the Bronco. You were in charge of Noah. Bradley was acting like some sort of sugar daddy boyfriend with the credit card you had tucked in your wallet. You shouldn't have been feeling insecure at all. You tried not to think about anything except getting to work on time for your first day. 

And being out of the house did help. You met all of the doctors and other nurses, and some of them were your age. Dr. Kelly treated you to lunch, and you got to chat with her a bit. You learned you'd get to assist with a few special needs kids later in the week. It was exciting. You had your own tiny workspace. Being there occupied your mind. 

But when you were asked to fill out a small stack of new hire paperwork in the afternoon, your pen stopped on the page multiple times. You hesitated twice before you eventually wrote Bradley's address as your own. You wrote his name and phone number down as your emergency contact, but you felt ridiculous writing 'boyfriend' where it asked for your relationship to him. After a brief debate, you wrote it anyway and moved on. And a beneficiary for your life insurance? Well, you didn't really have anyone else, so you put Noah. 

And then when you handed everything back in, you felt kind of like you were pretending to be an adult. 

----------------------------

Bradley waited on his bunk for Carl to return. It was getting late, and he wondered where the fuck he was. Without completely dismantling the tiny room, Bradley had searched through as much of Carl's shit as he could. And that was after confirming that he was only missing the one polaroid that you sent with him. 

His ears were ringing. Fingers twitching. He was absolutely repulsed by the thought of anyone else looking at that picture. But especially Carl. That was a line you just didn't cross with a bunkmate. Bradley had seen some wild shit in his days, walked in on some things he wished he could unsee. But you simply did not mess with personal items. And you certainly didn't take anything under any circumstances without permission. And if it was anything pertaining to a wife, girlfriend or significant other, it was absolutely forbidden. 

And if you broke any of these unwritten rules, well... you should know what you were in for. 

When Bradley heard a key in the door close to midnight, his hands automatically curled into fists. Your pretty face popped into his mind, smiling up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. Even though you weren't here, you deserved to be defended right now. He'd protect you and Noah until he used up his dying breath. And that just meant things weren't looking too hot for Carl at the moment. 

The other man strolled in wearing his gym clothes, and it struck Bradley that Carl was probably a little older than he was. He was in good shape, too, but that wouldn't stop Bradley from beating the absolute shit out of him if necessary. 

"What's up, Carl?" he asked, remaining seated with his fists planted on either side of him on the bed. When Carl seemed barely able to meet his eyes, Bradley knew for sure.

"Hey," he replied awkwardly. "Just wanted to hit the gym when it was empty."

Bradley just watched him for a few seconds, silently demanding eye contact. When Carl finally stopped bumbling around and met his eyes, Bradley slowly stood. "Where is it?"

Carl's eyes flashed with panic as Bradley rolled his shoulders and took a step closer in the already limited space. "What? What are you talking about?" He tried to back away, but there was really nowhere to go. 

"If you make me ask again, it's going to be a lot worse for you, man."

"I... I..." Carl's eyes followed Bradley's left hand as he loosened his fist. And then Bradley slammed him back against the door. 

"You know better," Bradley growled. "This isn't your first deployment. You know the rules. And it belongs to me. Where. Is. It?"

"The photo?" Carl whispered as Bradley pressed the heel of his hand against his sternum with even more pressure. 

Bradley raised his voice. "Where the hell is it? It better have never left this fucking room."

"I have it!" Carl swore, and Bradley released him.

"Get it," Bradley said as calmly as he could, but his voice was shaking. He watched Carl dig around in his bedding, procuring the photo of you and your perfect tits and your barely concealed pussy. Bradley had a flashback to Noah's birthday party when Jake kissed you. Then he pictured you at the fraternity house, drunk and helpless. Carl was about to pay a pretty large price. 

"Here," he grunted, extending the polaroid out to Bradley. Once he set it down on top of his dresser, making sure the photo was still perfect, he turned back to Carl and sucker punched him right on the nose. 

Blood was gushing onto his gym shirt as Bradley said, "That's fucked up, Carl. You had my photo in your bed."

He was holding his nose, looking at Bradley with guilty eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"That's my girl, you piece of shit." Bradley was seething as he rammed Carl back up against the door. 

"She's your girl?" he asked, trying to stop the bleeding with both hands now. "She looks barely legal. How old is she?"

Bradley released him and took a step back before he did more damage than he intended to. "Do you really think it's a good idea to ask me that, Carl? You probably jerked it to my girlfriend after you stole my photo, and now you're asking me how old she is?" He was panting, letting the rage flow through him, and then both hands curled into fists again.

"Shit, I didn't- I wasn't-"

"You're not very bright, are you?" Bradley asked, cutting him off. "I'll let you walk out of this room with your face mostly intact as long as you guarantee that you'll wear your bruises around this carrier without even so much as looking in my direction. And don't you dare visit the infirmary. Your indiscretion doesn't blow back on me. You got it?"

Carl looked resigned as he lowered his hands from his face and nodded. "Yeah. I got it."

Then Bradley landed one more punch, hard as hell, and Carl staggered around the room for a few seconds before he managed to take himself out into the hallway and toward the bathroom. Bradley carefully picked up his polaroid, and his heart ached. He was yours, and he'd have done anything to see your beautiful face in person right now.

And if Carl didn't so much as speak to him or look at him again for the rest of the deployment, it would be just fine with Bradley.

-------------------------

You always felt like you were rushing around. When you got out of work an hour early one Wednesday, you decided to use the time to go grocery shopping before you picked up Noah. It was easier to get just the necessities this way. The downside was that you were definitely getting lost in your own thoughts as you stood in the produce area selecting apples. 

It was almost a relief that Bradley hadn't contacted you yet. If you had to look him in the eye right now, you weren't sure you could do it without crying. That USB drive was currently on top of the refrigerator where you couldn't see it, but it was still enough to upset you when you thought about it. But at the same time, you missed your boyfriend and wanted him to come home, and you knew Noah would benefit from talking to him.

You wasted so much time looking at fucking apples that you were going to be late if you didn't get going. You winced as you used the purple princess credit card to pay for the food, and then you organized everything in the back of the Bronco. You loved driving it and briefly wondered if he'd still let you after he got home. 

You pulled into the gas station that was just a few blocks from Noah's daycare, once again using Bradley's credit card. You sighed as you inserted the card for payment and then started to fill the tank. And then you looked up toward the next row of pumps, and you were sure you knew that BMW. A second later, you met Meredith's gaze, and a chill went through your body.

You were afraid your voice was going to shake, but you called out, "You're not supposed to come near me."

She laughed maliciously. "This is a gas station, and I was here first. So maybe you should stay away from me."

"With pleasure," you snarled. You had to close your eyes against the sick feeling that rose inside you. Naked. You could picture her naked. Bradley used to love her. 

"You already ruined my life," Meredith snapped. "So your little restraining order stunt really doesn't matter to me." Then she was climbing into her car, and you watched her peel out of the parking lot and into traffic, heading in the opposite direction from Noah's daycare. 

Your hands were unsteady as you finished up at the gas pump. She was right; she had been at the gas station first. She was with Bradley first. She was Noah's mom before you ever came into the picture as his babysitter. She was everywhere, and she wouldn't go away.

----------------------

Bradley emailed you days ago to let you know he would be able to FaceTime with you and Noah tonight, but you'd only written back, "Sounds good." You didn't give him any updates. You didn't call him Daddy. You didn't say anything else. 

Sounds good.

He grunted as he worked out in the gym. The sooner he could get this deployment completed and get home, the better. Carl's face was starting to look better now, but Bradley smiled every time he saw the bruises. He had no idea what excuse the other man had given for looking like a raccoon with two black eyes and a bent nose, and he didn't really fucking care. If anyone assumed he was the one who caused the bruising, they probably also assumed it was warranted. 

Those polaroids were wrapped up and put away now. But Bradley wanted the real thing. Your body and your voice. He'd been thinking about how insufficient it felt to call you his girlfriend. Just the same way you'd always felt like more than Noah's babysitter to them. But now with your lack of a real response, Bradley felt a little foolish for thinking about proposing to you. 

When it was time to make the call home, he sighed deeply. And when you answered your phone on the living room couch, your expression was hesitant. 

"Princess," he rasped, holding the iPad with both hands. "Baby. I miss you."

It felt like an eternity before you responded. "We miss you, too." 

He had so much he wanted to say and talk about, but your voice was just a little too soft, and your eyes were just a little too sad. "What's wrong?" he asked, but you were already shaking your head.

"Here. Talk to Noah." And then you were out of the frame, and Noah was there. Bradley laughed as he talked about daycare and making something called peanut butter snails and going for hikes. He held up some of the coloring sheets he had worked on, and Bradley noted that you had dated all of them. You always did little things like that. Now he'd be able to see which days his son worked on the coloring sheets when he got home. 

"I miss you so much, bub."

"Will you come home soon?" Noah asked, and Bradley's heart absolutely melted. 

"Really soon. And we can go to the beach and maybe take a little vacation, okay? Now can you sit with Princess so I can talk to her, too?"

And then you were immediately back in the frame and scooping Noah onto your lap. So you must have been standing right there the whole time. 

"That's better," Bradley sighed. His house, his kid, his girl. "You have no idea how much I wish I was on that couch with you." 

You smiled softly. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure, Baby. Not soon enough. Tell me about work."

So you indulged him in a few stories, and it sounded like you fit in there. You liked your coworkers, especially Dr. Kelly. You loved all the kids you got to talk to and care for all day. But you still seemed a little distant.

"Are you sleeping okay?" he asked. "Any issues?"

You pressed a kiss to Noah's cheek and said, "We just miss you. That's all."

"We want you to come home," Noah whined. 

"Please?" you added softly. 

"So soon," he reiterated, wishing he could give you both a kiss. "Watch for my emails?"

"I will," you promised. 

"I love you. Both of you."

Then you and Noah said in unison, "I love you, too." And then he had to end the call.

------------------------

Well it was done now. You were on your way to get the last few things from your place with Noah before you turned your key over to your landlord. Or former landlord. You were done paying rent here, and now you could start helping Bradley pay his mortgage. In fact, he would be home in a few days, and you'd talk to him about it then. There were actually a lot of things you wanted to have a conversation about.

"Do you remember when you came here for dinner? And I made you spaghetti in my little kitchen?"

"That was a long time ago," Noah insisted, and you held his hand as you walked up the sidewalk. "You live at my house now."

"Yep," you replied softly as you let go of his hand and dug around in your bag for the key you hardly ever used now. "Let's just hope that makes your Daddy happy and not annoyed since I never really gave him a verbal answer," you mumbled, finally locating the key. 

As you shoved it into the lock, Noah knelt down and picked something up from the porch. "What's this?" he asked, reaching his hand up to you.

Your eyes went wide. "Drop it," you said right away, and he let the piece of broken glass fall back to the porch. But there was more. Both of you were standing in it, and when you reached to turn the knob, there must have been a shard there.

"Shit," you gasped as your right palm started bleeding. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you kicked the door fully open. One of the panes of glass in the door had been smashed, and there was more of the mess on the floor inside. "Don't touch anything," you hissed, and Noah started crying. 

You kept him close enough to take a few pictures as soon as you were able to fumble with your phone. You took seven photos of all the glass plus the item that had been left. For you. It was just a dollar store coloring book, but there was a note on top of it written in crayon. Have fun playing house.

It had to have been from Meredith. Who else could have done it? She was already claiming you ruined her life. And ever since you saw her at the gas station, you were nervous that wasn't the last of her.

Blood was starting to pool a little bit in your upturned palm, and there wasn't much you could do at the moment except for ruin your shirt. "Let's get out of here," you whispered, and the two of you walked back across the porch, the glass crunching beneath your feet. 

You were able to buckle Noah with one hand, but even when you got back to Bradley's house, you were still bleeding. And the glass needed to be removed. So you finally caved and called Natasha. 

"I kind of need your help," you told her vaguely over the phone.

She laughed in response. "I kind of need a lot of things. What can I do for you?"

"Can you come by and help me remove a piece of glass from my dominant hand?"

"Fuck. Of course. I'm on my way," she replied, all tones of joking  gone. 

She was there in less than fifteen minutes, and she washed her hands right away. Then she used the sterilized tweezers that you handed to her to carefully remove the glass. "Just the one piece?" she asked, meeting your eyes. 

"I think so. I already checked Noah really thoroughly."

Nat's expression darkened. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

You were pressing some gauze against your palm now. You might need stitches. You would probably benefit from getting stitches. But you couldn't do them yourself with your left hand, and you didn't want to leave Noah right now. Not even with Nat. He was watching a Mickey Mouse cartoon on the couch, and you didn't want him further away from you than that. 

"It was just some broken glass," you replied. 

"Here?" she asked, looking around the kitchen.

"No. At my old place. It's fine. I just need to tell my landlord about it, and I'll replace it." You were amazed how easily you were able to keep your voice steady. 

"Right," Nat replied with an unamused look. "Bradley will be home in a couple days? Do you want me to stay here until he's back?"

"Of course not. We're fine," you insisted, averting your gaze.

She stood to leave and sighed deeply. "Please call me back if you need anything, okay? And do us both a favor and don't lie to Bradley when you pick him up."

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "I won't," you said softly. And after she left, you took Noah into bed with you and snuggled him tight. 

---------------------

I hate Carl. I hate Meredith. I want Daddy to come home. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 32

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #the younger kind

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hello!! How do we feel about a Ghost x reader where the reader has trouble opening up emotionally. When she does, she feels like she’s burdened him and has to make up for it…kind of “earning back his love” through acts of service. Love your work!!!!

Thank you so much!!!! I hope this is what you were looking for. I relate to this so much😭

Synopsis: You finally open up to Simon about your depression, but end up feeling like a burden after doing so.

Warnings: mentions of depression, worthlessness and being a burden, swearing, angst

I've Got You, Kid.

“Have any of you seen Y/N?” Ghost had spent the better part of 20 minutes trying to find you on base. 

“Think the lass went out for a walk in the courtyard, she said something about needing fresh air.” Soap said, looking away from his card game with Gaz to address Ghost.

Ghost grunted in reply, and made toward the courtyard. He’d been wanting to talk to you all day. You were fairly quiet the whole week, and not acting quite like yourself. 

He found you on one of the benches in the courtyard, staring up at the sky. He stopped before approaching you to take in your features. You looked beautiful in the moonlight. You had almost looked as if you were glowing. The thing that he'd noticed most of all, though, was the frown that was etched on your face.

"Hey, love." He gently touched your shoulder to get your attention.

"Oh! Hey. Doing okay?" You turned to look at him, mustering a smile best you could.

"I should be asking you that. Are you alright?" Simon's eyes softened as they took you in. He could tell the smile on your face wasn't a genuine one, and it tugged at his heart. 

"I'm fine, just tired is all." You waved away his concerns and looked back up at the night sky.

"Y/N. We've been together for how long? I know when something is off, love. Talk to me, please." He begged quietly, turning your face toward him with his hand.

You took a deep breath and furrowed your brows as you debated on telling him. You'd been feeling down for a while now. Your depression would come and go randomly, but this time, it was worse than usual. You weren't one for talking about your feelings, though. Coming from a family who was not keen on sharing emotions, you learned from a young age to bottle up your feelings. The way Simon was looking at you, however, had you feeling that it may be okay to let him in on your internal struggle.

"I um. Just haven't been feeling myself. I don't feel like I've been doing a great job out in the field, I'm tired all the time, and I just feel, I don't know. I've been feeling worthless." You grew quiet as you finished your thought, turning your gaze to your folded hands in front of you. "I just can't shake this feeling, no matter how hard I try."

"Hey, now. None of that. You've been doing amazing, kid. Price was just telling me the other day how good you've gotten." Simon said as he grabbed your fidgeting hands in his, stroking them softly. "Thinking like that will only bring you down worse."

"Yeah, you're right. It's stupid. Just gotta shake it off." You said softly and tried your best to give your lover a genuine smile. 

"It's not stupid." Simon gave you a warm smile in return and kissed your temple. "Why don't we go get some sleep. It's been a long day."

You nodded your head in agreement, biting your lip to keep it from quivering. You thought maybe opening up to Simon would've made you feel better, but it made you feel worse. You weren't sure exactly what you'd wanted him to say, but his words did little to ease your somber mood. To make matters worse, you felt that you annoyed him. He had enough of his own problems to deal with, he didn't need you adding yours to his plate as well.

Taking his arm, the two of you walked to his quarters in a comfortable silence. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to climb in bed and cry yourself to sleep. 

The next morning, Simon awoke to your side of his bed being cold. He stretched his arms out to pull you close, only to find your side empty. He sat up hoping to find you still in his room, and frowned when you weren't there. 

Thinking you must've gotten an early start without him, he got up to start his day, pausing abruptly when he saw a note lying on top of his mask, with a pair of fresh clothes for him to wear.

Washed up your mask, and uniform! Was a little dirty, so I thought I'd give it a good clean. Used the soap you like, too. - Y/N

Simon chuckled to himself as he inspected his mask. It'd been a while since it was cleaned, and he couldn't help but smile as he got a whiff of the detergent he loved so much. 

~

Later on, he made his way into the mess hall where he found you sitting with Soap. 

"Morning, love. Thanks for washing my mask." He kissed your brow as he approached. " 'M gonna go get some-"

"Already got it for you! Coffee black with two sugars, and a plain bagel one side with cream cheese and one with butter!" You cut him off, pointing to the spot next to you. 

Simon's eyes widened at your words, and looked down to find his usual morning breakfast sitting on the table beside yours. 

"Gee, thanks, kid." He squeezed your shoulder lovingly before sitting down next to you. 

"Shit, you two ever go sideways, Y/N just so you know I'm single…and more than ready to mingle." Soap joked, dodging a piece of bagel being thrown at him by Simon. 

You chuckled to yourself before gathering your trash on the table and standing up. 

"Leaving already?" Simon's eyes lifted from his food to meet yours, a bemused expression forming on his face.

"Yeah, got some stuff to do. Busy day!" You chirped, kissing Simon's head before making your way to the trash bin. 

Simon looked back to his food before turning to Soap. "Is everything okay with her this morning?"

"Dunno, tried talking to her, but you know how she is." Soap smiled sadly, and his gaze fell on you, exiting the mess hall. "Somethings clearly up with her, though."

Simon grunted in reply, turning back to finish his breakfast. 

~

In the evening, Ghost still hadn't seen you since the mess hall that morning. He'd kept an eye out for you the entire day, not spotting you once. You hadn't even joined him for lunch, which was rare for you. 

He walked into the weapons locker to report for weapon cleaning duty, and was shocked when he stepped foot inside. All of the weapons had already been cleaned, and neatly stacked in such a way that he immediately knew you were the one to do it. 

Ghost took a deep breath, and let his thoughts race. You were always a kind lover, going above and beyond to help him, but this was extreme. For you to do all the things you'd done for him today, yet not show your face much at all the entire day? Simon felt his heart strings tug a little, and he knew he had to talk to you. 

Did he not say the right things last night? Were you still feeling upset? He knew he was bad with words, but he had truly thought he'd gotten better at it. 

Making a B-line for the mess hall, he was hoping you'd still be there finishing up your dinner. 

When he'd arrived he was elated to find you still sitting in your usual spot, this time with Konïg. You were laughing quietly with the man before Simon approached the two of you.

"Hey! I can go grab you some dinner, do you want to join us?" You gave Simon a small smile, and moved to stand. 

"No, I'm fine. Do you have a moment actually? To talk?" 

"Okay." You followed Simon, who was moving at a rather brisk pace to exit the mess hall.

"Are you okay?" You questioned him once the two of you were alone.

"Y/N, sweetheart, please talk to me." He pleaded, grabbing your hands in his. "You haven't been yourself in days, and I thought everything was okay after last night. But it doesn't seem better, and I can't help but feel like I said something wrong."

Your eyes started to gloss over as you took in his words. You felt even worse now, knowing that Simon thought this was his fault. You were the one being the burden, not him. 

"No, no. I just." You paused, not knowing what to say next. You, like Simon, weren't great with expressing how you felt, and were struggling to find the words. 

"I- I feel like a burden. I know you have enough on your plate and here I am whining about being depressed. I felt bad so I.. was trying to make you happy." Tears were now falling down your cheeks, and Simon's thumbs came to stroke them away. 

"Y/N, look at me. You are not, and never will be a burden, do you understand me? I love you more than you'll ever comprehend. I know I am not great at talking all the time, but my God I will listen to you and whatever troubles you may have, no matter how small they may seem to you." He spoke softly, as his thumbs continued to wipe away your tears. "And do not ever think you don't make me happy. I'm the happiest I've ever been in my shitty life, because of you."

"Simon." You sobbed, throwing yourself into his chest. 

"I've got you, kid. I'm always here, okay? I love you so fucking much." Simon wrapped his arms tightly around you, rubbing your back in soothing circles. "Why don't we make a pact. Let's both do better coming to one another with this stuff. So that it never gets this far. That sound okay?"

You nodded your head against his chest, blinking away the remaining tears. Simon leaned down to place a kiss on your temple.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, Simon continuing to rub your back. 

"I love you Simon, thank you." You said, pulling away to kiss him. 

"Of course, that's what I'm here for, yeah? Why don't we go inside, I'll draw you a bath in my quarters."

"Only if you'll join me."

"Always." Simon smiled down at you, and took your hand to lead you toward his room. 

—----------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thanks for reading!!☺️ Working on a few other requests but feel free to send any you'd like to see written!

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #ghost mw2 #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley

[weirdmarioenemies]

If you're even vaguely familiar with Kirby, there is no doubt in anyone's mind that one of the most iconic abilities is Parasol. It's a unique ability, it gets a ton of merch, and it's cute, to boot!

But when you think about it, there's not a whole lot of enemies for Parasol, is there? There's a lot of enemies that hold Parasols, there's the Parasol itself, which may or may not be sentient, but Parasol doesn't bring a wide variety of enemies to mind like, say, Fire or Spark might.

Believe it or not, there actually are a few enemies that give Parasol that neither HOLD a Parasol nor ARE "just" the Parasol...but they're wholly exclusive to a few games, and have not had a proper reappearance in the games since the SNES era. So, let me introduce you to all of them! Maybe there will even be some you like, or wish would come back!

But first, an honorary mention...

Name: Parasol (Kirby's Dream Land)

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land

You know it, you love it, it's...Parasol?!

That's right! Before it became the ability we all know and love, Parasol actually debuted in the same game Kirby did, which you might note did NOT have copy abilities! Like Waddle Doo and Sir Kibble, this is a classic example of an enemy that had an ability based around it, rather than vice versa.

I want to talk about specifically its iteration in this game, which is a bit different compared to future entries. First off and most noticeably, its appearance is wholly different! The hood is smaller and shaded but with no discernable pattern, the handle is thinner and the hook itself looks more rounded! Secondly, all Waddle Doos and Dees will let go of their parasol once they land, with none spawning while holding them or keeping them when they land anyway.

And another thing: you can't even dang inhale them when they're being held! The Waddler in question will be swallowed, but the Parasol will drift away or, in the Extra Game, even hone in on you! I told you they were debatably sentient! It actually does that in a few future games like Kirby's Adventure, but not nearly as commonly as it did in the original Extra Game. So strange!

OKAY OKAY time for what the post promised you now I promise. Hold my hand (and your Parasol) as I take you through The Parasol Enemies That Time Forgot:

Name: Floaty the Drifter

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 2

"Floaty the Drifter", not to be confused with Floaty the Cell Core, is such a wonderful name. "Floaty" would already be a sillily obvious name on its own, on par with names like Flamer and Chilly and Cappy, but adding "the Drifter" makes it even moreso. Is that its species? Its title? Is Floaty an individual? Probably not, we see multiple of them in the same level and often, and this is not like Vividria where it's canonically an individual that just so happens to be fought in pairs for gameplay, but it's funny to consider. Imagine if they followed through with other enemies, like "Spikey the Poker", "Burnis the Scorcher", "Elec the Trocuter"…

Floaty the Drifter actually acts as the main provider for Parasol in this game, wholly replacing the titular object itself except for when Kirby uses it. On its own, it doesn't do much floating OR drifting, instead hopping around in its own little world, kind of akin to Cappy, but it lives up to its name when a Waddle Dee holds it, in which...it will just act like a normal Parasol! Wholly and entirely. Even when dropped, it flies off rather than initiate its normal grounded behavior. I think I've heard some of them fly at you when released, but I can't think of any instances of that, and that's still a Parasol behavior anyhow.

As you can tell, Floaty the Drifter's claim to fame is in its unique design, bearing a single mischievous eye and a stark green coloration only seen in artwork. In fact, despite being a one-off mook, this would even grant it its own role in the anime!

Floaty the Drifter, or just "Drifters" as they're called here (I guess it is a species!) are bought by King Dedede in the episode "Escargoon Rules" to attack Escargoon and his mother after presumably being "I'm With Stupid"’d all day. I did not watch the anime! According to the wiki, they're about as fragile as you'd expect a swarm of umbrellas to be, as while they swarm towards and wrap around victims, they are easily KO'd by Fire and knocked away by Kirby's own Parasol ability.

You might be wondering why, exactly, Floaty the Drifter even has one eye in the first place, considering that its role is largely the same as Parasol. To answer that, we'll have to move on to the next creature to feature:

Name: Jumpershoot

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 2

I bet you never expected an ability like Parasol to have its own, dedicated midboss, did you? And such a sophisticated one, at that! It's even one of the few Kirby characters with toes, for the freaks in the audience!

As you may have guessed, Jumpershoot and, to a lesser extent, Floaty the Drifter are both based on the kasa-obake, perhaps one of the most ubiquitous yokai! And this is despite not really ever having appeared in folktales, if ever. I was always under the assumption that the kasa-obake was a tsukumogami, an umbrella after it had lived for 100 years, but apparently even this isn't set in stone, either!

Jumpershoot first appears in Big Forest, the second world of the game, and guards Coo because...some reason! I don't think it's ever mentioned why the Animal Friends are kidnapped, they kind of just are! And as for Jumpershoot, does he work for King Dedede? Dark Matter? I don't know how employed midbosses are. Mr. Frosty is on the Halberd once.

Our favorite umbrella attacks by jumping and gently falling towards the ground, then makes a rapid, Tornado-like spin around the room that, after a bit, repels attacks! Then, rather than dropping Stars, he throws his own sandal at you that you can shoot back at him! Don't worry, it regenerates, so you don't have to feel guilty for robbing him of footwear!

I really really like Jumpershoot. And apparently, so did Shimomura, because he reappears in Kirby's Dream Land 3, acting much the same but with more detailed sprites! He's such...a cool character, you know? You wouldn't expect a Parasol midboss to be a yokai, of all things, especially one that acts so rowdy! I love him!

Sadly, as much as we'd all love to, there is no game where you can play as Jumpershoot. Tragic, but true! But...you can get a taste, a crumb of its rapid spin attack by having the Parasol ability while riding Coo, which makes Coo spin around invulnerably just as he does! And while he would later find himself joining the foray of midbosses abandoned after Kirby's Dream Land 3, Parasol Coo still appears in Kirby Star Allies, so his soul is still with us...

This would be the end of the road for Jumpershoot, in terms of games, but luckily for Jumpershootheads, he would make one final appearance in a piece of Twitter art, joining a medley of other monsters by spooking Channel PPP! He's still got it!

Sadly, this wraps up the Jumpershoot section of this post, and thusly we have no more Dream Land 2 Parasol enemies to speak of. But don't worry, we still have more parasolic beasts in the next title...

Name: Sasuke

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 3

Although Floaty had a cute design, it's rather appropriate that the enemy that replaced the Parasol of Kirby's Dream Land would itself get replaced in Kirby's Dream Land 3, isn't it? But Sasuke is no mere living umbrella!

Sasuke's design might bring to mind Bumber for our veteran readers, and its behavior is much the same! It drifts down slowly and steadily, and starts walking back and forth on whatever block it lands on, just like Parasol Waddle Dee, but its hat never detaches, so it will never not give Parasol! Personally speaking, though, I think Bumber is MUCH more cute and memorable...sorry, Sasuke! At least you will always have Naruto to confide in.

Sasuke also made an appearance in the anime, where he's built a lot more like Lololo & Lalala. Here, he draws a gun at King Dedede and Escargoon, an

Name: Klinko

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 3

The oddest Parasol appearance in both looks and functionality, and our final Parasol giver, is Klinko! It looks like it would give Cleaning if anything, with its hat reminiscent of a besom! It doesn't even drift down slowly like every other Parasol enemy does at some point–in fact, while it hops around, it doesn't share any traits with the Parasol ability at all, and is the only Parasol enemy like that! So, why does it give Parasol, then?!

The answer is: it's not wearing an old broom, but actually a straw umbrella, because it's based on yet ANOTHER yokai! Shimomura seemed to think yokai were the future of the Parasol ability, and who wouldn't!

The amefurikozō, unlike the kasa-obake, has a bit more concrete lore, being children that appear in and sometimes cause rainfall, hence why they wear straw umbrellas. This is true of Klinko, too, as it appears in cloudy stages or stages with heavy snowfall! Its Japanese name, Kinko, might also suggest some relation to the separate yokai Yukinko, a child associated with heavy snow, which could also explain its tendency towards icy levels.

It's easy to see why such an unparasolic enemy would not be used any further, but I kind of like them more for it. They're an anomaly! Sure, this is essentially just Floaty the Drifter's hopping behavior, but the lack of any other Parasol attributes than just wearing an umbrella really make it stand out to me! And that's the beauty of these enemies—the longer Parasol goes without any new enemies, the more these guys will always stand out, and that's wonderful, I think!

What do you guys think? Is the time right for some of these guys to make a comeback? Is Parasol better with the limited enemies they use now? Or should they make new ones? Tell me! I can't do anything with your suggestions but I have nothing better to do than read them!

#parasol #floaty the drifter #jumpershoot #sasuke #klinko #kirby #kirby enemies #kirby's dream land 2 #kirby's dream land 3 #kirby's dream land #kirbys dream land 2 #kirbys dream land 3 #kirbys dream land #funky friday #mod tweeter #dont ask about bukiset #correction i forgot to make to this post: floaty the drifter CAN launch towards kirby (though doesn't explode) #but the ones that can are so rare that they might as well not exist

[queenimmadolla]

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . After your eventful labor and delivery, you and Eddie can only wait to see what fate holds for your newborn son as you two finally decide on a name. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: we have finally reached the rainbow at the end of the storm, my friends. wrapping this up feels so bittersweet, i'm going to miss all the interactions! i don't think i've gotten to talk to this many people here before and i hope it doesn't stop after part three. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. and a HUGE thank you to my partner in crime, @kitmon, for beta-ing this (all three parts) bad boy for me. while Wayne's World is finally over, i'm excited to continue writing for this little family. on to the next thing! word count is 4kish. happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

While Eddie was out like a light, your doctor had also dropped in for a visit to inform you you’d be staying at the hospital for at least another day, which you weren’t too excited about. You were prescribed medication to take during your stay and so long as you felt good, you were allowed to roam about, meaning you could visit your son. 

  Wayne had also dropped by, with a bag he’d packed full of Eddie’s clothes and things he thought he would need. He hadn’t wanted to wake Eddie up, either. After making sure you were okay, he ended up taking Penny home with him. You’d debated on letting her stay, but you figured Eddie would be vehement on staying with you and she’d want to play with her toys soon. Wayne had promised to bring her back for visits.

  Then it was just you and your sleeping husband. Eddie slept through the morning, past the afternoon, and into the evening. You were just about to run out of patience—eager to see your baby—when he finally woke up.

  “Wha’ happen?” He rasped out, voice groggy and eyes squinted almost shut as he stretched, letting out an inhuman grunt. 

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “or goodnight, I guess.”

  “Night?” He followed your gaze, eyes shooting wide open when he realized how late he’d slept. “Oh, shit. It’s seven.” 

  “I’m aware,” you were entirely amused, “Your breakfast, lunch, and dinner are on the counter.” You pointed over to the counter and cabinets lining the wall.

  Eddie was starving, he tossed the blanket aside to get up and made quick work of all of his meals, to your surprise. 

  Watching Eddie eat was always so entertaining. He ate so chaotically, messy like a gremlin. And not just when he was starving. 

  “Where’s Pen?” He asked through a mouthful of food. 

  “With Wayne and Maude. He stopped by and dropped off some things for you.” You pointed this time to the duffel bag resting near his makeshift pullout bed. 

  The burger you’d got him for lunch was clenched in his teeth, the wrapper around it preventing its contents from falling out, as he rifled through it, pulling out a clean shirt, a pair of sweats and some boxers.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, again with a mouthful of food as he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs. 

  You watched as he struggled to get his feet out of them without using his hands, aggressively shaking them off his right ankle. He cursed under his breath once they were off and you couldn’t help but elate in the fact your husband was still a dork.

  “You were tired, snoring up a storm—’’

  “—I don’t snore.”

  “—And looking like you were in a coma.”

  Eddie snorted as he devoured the rest of his burger before he was able to go put on the clean boxers (you’d made sure to lean forward so you could get your eyeful) and yank on the sweats. Then he pulled his shirt off and you responded by clapping your hands appreciatively.

  “Now, give me a little twirl,” you swirled your finger downward, with a smirk and Eddie laughed as he threw the shirt at you.

  “Knock it off, six week waiting period still applies to you so you’d better not tempt me.”

  You whistled as you pulled his shirt off your head, holding it to your chest, “You might have had the dinner but I definitely got the show.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” but he was still grinning as he yanked the clean shirt over his head. 

  You waited until he was comfortable, with his food, on the pull out before you informed him, “My doctor came by, too. Said I’m stuck here for another freaking day.”

  Eddie pulled the fry he’d been about to eat away from his mouth so he could tease you with a pout. He was actually glad, you’d be surrounded by medical professionals so if for some reason something happened, they’d be able to take care of you. Plus, he’d be by your side every day until then. This was his last day off, but he’d call Norm in the morning and let him know he’d have to take the next couple of days off. He’d saved up more than enough paid time off at the shop, something he’d chosen this particular one to work at for offering. 

  Of course, when he’d gotten the gig as a teenager, he’d only been concerned about using that time to try out a new strain or micro dose. 

  You rolled your eyes and slumped back into your bed, “Jerk. She also said I could move around. After you finish eating, will you take me to go see him?”

  Fuck, Eddie would take you right now. He was about to set his tray aside when you hissed. 

  “Eat.”

  He held his hands up in defeat, but finished off his food a little faster. 

  While he finished eating, you’d gotten out of bed (yes, he almost had a heart attack and you had to threaten him to keep him from hovering) to freshen up. By the time you were done, so was Eddie.

  You’d dug around his bag until you found one of your favorite shirts of his and put it on, under the stupid hospital gown, along with a pair of his sweats.

  And you hadn’t wanted to, like really, really didn’t want to, but you allowed him to push you to the NICU in a wheelchair. It was the only way you were allowed to leave your room. Why didn’t you want to? Because Eddie insisted it was a game, full on running to propel the wheelchair, even spinning you around in it, when he wasn’t pretending to crash into things. It was fun, but you were sure the hospital staff didn’t appreciate it.

  When you finally got to the NICU and the nurse placed your baby in your arms, you knew everything you’d been through was worth it. Every single second you got with him was precious and worth the possible sorrow that may follow. 

  “He does look like Penny,” you agreed, lifting him up to press a kiss to his forehead. He was in better looking condition than you recalled, not pasty or almost blue, and breathing. You remembered the shock of fear that had shot up your spine when he hadn’t been after you’d pushed him out.

  He was small, smaller than Penny had been for obvious reasons, and while it made you sad that you hadn’t been able to keep him in you to develop more, you were still happy to have him.

  “Although, I think their noses are different,” you mused and gently stroked your finger over the small tip of his nose, tubeless since he’d been removed from his incubator to be placed in your arms. He scrunched it up at the contact, and you were delighted with his response, “he’s got your’s, Eddie.”

  “You think so?” Eddie was taken with that nose scrunch, absolutely entranced. He’d seen you do it in the wee hours of that very morning.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s perfect. I wonder whose eyes he has.” Selfishly, you hoped a pair of big, brown baby cow eyes, like his father’s and sister’s, were under the eye cover.

  “You can take it off,” The nurse hovering nearby informed you, he was handling another baby but he’d heard your comment, “he’s done with his phototherapy. The lighting in here isn’t harsh either, so he’ll be just fine.”

  He stopped what he was doing to hand you a couple of wipes, “Just moisten the edges and it will come right off.”

  You did as instructed, Eddie hovering over you in anticipation. Once the edges were saturated with the warm wipe, you carefully peeled the eye mask away, heart squeezing as your baby boy blinked them open. Well, that was a stretch, he blinked them into a squint.

  He glared up at you like that for a few more moments, before his blinking became rapid and then they were finally open, forehead scrunched up in curiosity as he stared, little mouth just barely parted. 

  “Hi,” you giggled out, absolutely ecstatic to see a pair of familiar dark eyes peering up at you. 

  “Guess that answers that.” Eddie’s smile was soft as he watched you press another kiss to his head, your fingertips mingling with the fluff on his head. He couldn’t help but notice how enthralled his son looked with you, little fists curled near his face.

  “You are so perfect,” you cooed down at him, finger stroking his cheek, he blinked at the contact, gave your hand some serious side eye for surprising him then returned his awed stare to your face. “I love you so much, my little grump. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? ‘Cause you’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make it out even when you’re dealt the shorthand.” 

  Was Eddie Munson about to cry again? Yes.

  “Perfect, perfect, perfect,” You enunciated each one word with a kiss to his head, “We still have to name him.”

  The morbid image of a potential name for his son, etched into stone came to the forefront of his mind and Eddie felt a stabbing pang in his chest as he forced the image away.

  “You know, I technically chose Penny’s,” you drawled, craning your head to look up at him, “I think it’s only fair you name him. Since you won’t let me name him Eddie Jr.”

  Eddie stared back at you, gaze intense before it shifted down to the little bundle in your arms, at the face peeking out from the blankets.

  He hadn’t wanted to name his baby after him, wanted him to be more than just a namesake. With Penny, well, her name meant something to him. Unconditional love. 

  It didn’t actually translate to that, but it had belonged to the one person in his life—other than you—who showed him affection, emotion. 

  The baby’s eyes moved away from your face, catching Eddie’s stare and something about it prompted a thought, a fact really. 

  Eddie was wrong. He was so, so wrong in his thought process. The weight of the realization almost had his knees buckling as he stared back at that little face.

  For the first time, Eddie thought of his son’s name. Etched in stone or not, it was the only one worthy of him.

  You’d let the nurse know and he retrieved your son's birth certificate for you. You loved the name so much and since Eddie had been the one to decide on it, you insisted he write it on his birth certificate as well. It had to be the neatest thing Eddie had ever written.

  It hadn’t been easy to let the nurse take your baby back, away from you and you had teared up, afraid it would be the last time you’d see him.

  Eddie had been upset too, in the last few moments you were allowed with him, he’d let his little guy hold onto his finger and reminded him of their earlier talk. He had to make it through tonight, so he could go home with them. After a few parting kisses, tears and reaffirming your love to him, he was whisked away to his incubator and you and Eddie made the sullen trip back to your room. 

  He held you in your bed while you both cried. 

  And cried.

  And cried.

  Eventually, the two of you fell asleep, the sheer emotional exhaustion too much for either of you. 

  When you woke up, it was to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains and the nurse taking your vitals. Eddie was still lightly snoring into the side of your head and just as the nurse finished, both Dr. Eisenberg and Dr. Houseman entered your room.

  “Good morning!” Dr. Eisenberg chirped. Dr. Houseman silently made herself comfortable leaning against the counter.

  “Morning,” came your groggy reply as you shook Eddie awake. He peaked an eye open to glare at you but the moment he caught sight of both doctors, he snapped awake.

  “Sorry to disturb you two, we just figured you’d want to hear the news. Mrs. Munson, although I know you must love your hospital bed, today’s looking like your last day here. Which means I want to hear about you doing lots of walking today. I’m gonna check on you again tomorrow, but if all is well, you’ll be discharged then.”

  Halle-freaking-lujah. 

  Dr. Eisenberg stepped back, nudging Dr. Houseman’s shoulder enthusiastically to take her place.

  “I believe this is the first time we’ve met, Mrs. Munson,” she regarded you with kind eyes before acknowledging Eddie, “Mr. Munson. Nice to see you’ve gotten some rest.”

  Eddie tried not to feel personally attacked.

  “I come bearing news of your son. He made it through the night, with no issues. He’s out of phototherapy, responding well to feedings—that’s very important—and while his breathing is fast, it’s also a good sign. It doesn’t leave him breathless, so it may just be his excitement at being in the outside world and getting to use his lungs. He doesn’t tire more than would be normal for a newborn, either. We’re gonna keep him a little longer, let him develop a little more and ensure the hole starts to heal up, but I give it no more than two weeks before he goes home.”

  The amount of weight lifted off both your shoulders and Eddie’s was almost disorientating. Your baby made it. You’d get to take him home! You wanted to cry, jump around, do backflips, but you settled for leaning into Eddie, who was blinking an awful lot.

  “Alright, I think we served our purpose. We’ll let the two of you have some peace.” They both gave you grins as they made their way out of the room, though Dr. Eisenberg stopped, effectively halting Dr. Houseman as well, “By the way, LOVE the name you gave him. Really fits the little guy.”

  Dr. Houseman nodded in agreement before she was ushering Eisenberg out of the room.

  You held each other again as you cried, this time tears of joy and relief.

  Wayne stopped by again, this time with Penny and a bag of necessities meant for you (packed with care by Maude because Wayne was too embarrassed to go through your drawers). She’d begged Eddie, literally wrapped herself around one of his legs until he agreed to take her to see baby brother. He hadn’t wanted to, would much rather have them meet at the trailer when the two of you could finally bring him home and not when he was still in an incubator, patched up to machines, but he relented.

  Wayne kept you company while he took her to see the baby. She hadn’t asked any questions about the babies, only stating the stork must be getting ready to take them to their mommies and daddies because they were in boxes. 

  When he’d pointed out her brother, she couldn’t look away, placing both hands on the glass as well as her forehead to stare at him. 

  “My little baby potatoes.”

  “He’s not—alright, sweet pea.”

  “I getta keep him, huh, daddy?”

  “Yeah, you get to keep him.” Eddie found himself blinking away tears, comforted to know he wasn’t lying to her, didn’t have to be obtuse to avoid telling her the truth anymore. 

  “Okie dokie, les take ‘em home.”

  Eddie chuckled and pulled her a little ways from the glass to press a kiss to her cheek, “He has to stay here for a few more days, but he’s gonna come home.”

  “Pomise?”

  “I promise.”

  She eyed him suspiciously, “You won’t fuwwet ‘em?”

  “Forget,” Eddie corrected but Penny didn’t amend the word like she would normally do when reminded of the proper pronunciation. She still had a little difficulty with her ‘r’s so if a word had the letter in it and she said it right the first time, great, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be fixing it, “And that was one time, sweet pea, I came back for you like a minute later.”

  Penny maintained an impressive, nonstop commentary about all the things she was going to teach her baby brother to do during the walk back to your hospital room. At some point, she’d asked Eddie to swing her the rest of  the way, which he scoffed at because that would make him look ridiculous to the staff.

  Needless to say, by the time they got back, Eddie was sure the staff would be making fun of him.

  Wayne hadn’t asked to see the baby, he was content knowing the little fella would be coming home with you. He still had that image of him in the truck stuck in his head, and he’d rather replace it with a baby in a car seat instead of an incubator. He and Penny stayed a while. She took your doctor’s walking orders (that Eddie foolishly mentioned in front of her) seriously and demanded you walk back and forth around the room with her. It was no problem until it just got annoying but you entertained her anyways. 

  Then all your friends had shown up, waiting strategic intervals of time to slip into your room as small groups so the nurses wouldn’t notice. They’d brought tons of gifts and Eddie had to sneak them to the NICU entrance, a few at a time, so they could see your baby through the glass.

  After what a c-section was had been explained to the boys, Dustin’s respect for you skyrocketed, which you hadn’t thought would be possible considering his high opinion of you in the first place, and Lucas thought you had to be some kind of superhuman to survive that, he was amazed. Poor Will and Robin looked like they wanted to throw up when Steve’s girlfriend explained how some of your insides had been briefly removed to get to the baby.

  It had been Nancy and Jonathan who got the group out of the hospital, and just in time. Your main nurse had come to check on you with all the suspicious hallway activity. Wayne and Penny left when visiting hours were over and you convinced Eddie to sleep on the bed with you, you always fell asleep fast when you got to cuddle up to him and you needed the night to pass already so you could get discharged. 

  You were impatient the next morning, Eddie watched on in amusement as you got ready, fluttering about the room until you finally slipped into a shirt and some comfortable pants with a high waistline (nothing was pressing into your scar until that bad boy was healed), then put your hospital gown over them and climbed into bed to disguise your getaway outfit. 

  Your plan was of course foiled when Dr. Eisenberg arrived and had you walk across the room a couple of times. She’d been amused with your expectations, but stuck to her promise and a nurse was wheeling you out after you were discharged.

  Wayne, Penny and Maude greeted you when you arrived home, and while you were pleased to be in your own clothes and trailer, you wanted your baby with you. 

  “What happened to the spot?” You’d asked Wayne, at some point while Maude and Penny were showing Eddie a new dress Maude had made for her.

  You were referring to the stain you were sure your water breaking had left—unfortunately, rather bloody as well. 

  “Maude got rid of it. Took ‘er a couple ‘a days but she managed to scrub it out, ‘s why she couldn’t come see you, reckon she figured you wouldn’t wanna see it.”

  The widow from a couple of trailers away—and Wayne’s lady love—was shy as hell, but you were positive you loved her. 

  You and Eddie made sure to visit your son as often as possible. While Eddie worked, you spent most of your mornings and afternoons at the hospital, learning from the nurses about his improving condition and how to care for him. You’d learned he was fed a couple of special formulas, though they still encouraged you to breastfeed. On day seven of his hospital stay, you got to nurse him for the first time. 

  It was difficult, he wouldn’t latch properly no matter how hard you or the lactation consultant tried at first. It took him a while to get the hang of it, and it had been mildly uncomfortable for you, but eventually he did start latching. Day eight was spent encouraging him to latch each time. You knew you’d have to feed him those special formulas, but that was the extent of sharing him with a bottle you were willing to go. It was 50/50, and they’d informed you as soon as he caught up in development, and started gaining weight, the need for the formulas would lessen and you wouldn’t have to share him.

  GOOD.

  On day nine, you and Eddie got to bring him home. It hadn’t been completely planned, Dr. Houseman had suggested it the day prior, hadn’t guaranteed it and hadn’t been expecting you to have a carseat and anything else you might need for the ride home, but when she mentioned that he was good to go—though he’d have to be seen regularly to ensure his heart was in healthy condition and healing—Eddie bolted to retrieve the car seat he’d had waiting for his little dude and came just about running back.

  “Don’t look so sour, baby,” He cooed as he tucked his little baby in and secured the harness around him. His son’s face was scrunched up, glaring at Eddie while he buckled him in. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the car seat, but he changed his tune when Eddie gently squished his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, the baby immediately relaxed, eyes wide as he stared up at his daddy. Then Eddie was tucking a blanket around him, and lowering the visor to protect him from the cold air.

  It was wonderfully symbolic how peaceful the drive home from the hospital with your son had been compared to how chaotic the drive to the hospital, with him, had been. 

  Wayne, Penny and Maude were waiting for you again. Penny practically attacked Eddie’s legs as soon as he made it through the door with the car seat. 

  “Whoa, sweet pea! Careful, daddy doesn’t want to step on you.”

  “I wanna see ‘em!”

  “You will,” You promised as you shut the door behind you. Wayne and Maude were perched on the couch as Eddie placed the car seat down and squatted so he could carefully take the baby out of it. Penny’s energy seemed to disappear, she was stock still, watching as Eddie lifted the visor, removed the blanket, unbuckled the baby and finally pulled him out. 

  Maude’s reaction was instant, sounds of adoration slipping past her lips as the baby scrunched his back while Eddie lifted him, tiny arms pulling up near his head. 

  Wayne laughed, relieved to see the baby looked nothing like he had when he’d first seen him. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie brought home the wrong one. 

  “You wanna hold him?”

  “Bring ‘im ‘ere.” Wayne held his hands out and Eddie carefully placed his newborn son in them.

  “Well, ‘yer in better shape, ain’t you?” He commented down at the little guy. As soon as those eyes were on him, he knew there had been no baby mix up. He was Eddie’s kid.

  “‘Shoot, another one with ‘yer eyes?” Wayne chuckled and Eddie’s chest puffed with pride. His next joke was directed towards you, “He’s lookin’ like Penny did when she was a baby, you sure you ain’t a copy machine?”

  “Not anymore,” You scoffed, smiling at the sight as you leaned into Eddie’s side. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, hand moving to the side of your head as he pulled you even closer to kiss.

  “He’s a cute lil’ fella. What’s his name?”

  Eddie smirked against the top of your head before he answered him, “Wayne.”

  “Hmn?” Then, without looking up from that little face, Wayne figured Eddie hadn’t heard him and was asking him to repeat himself. “‘Said what’s his name?”

  “I heard you, his name is Wayne.”

  Wayne looked up at the two of you then, eyes wide and unbelieving.

  “Wha—?”

  “His full name is Wayne Edward Munson,” you had to make sure they knew Eddie compromised and was willing to allow you to use his name as his son’s middle name, the smile on your face was smug. “Wayne.”

  Wayne cleared his throat, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. 

  “‘S really…” He trailed off, throat thick as he swallowed, head nodding a couple of times. 

  “I didn’t always imagine myself as a family man growing up,” Eddie confessed, “but when I did, I imagined having these crazy, weirdo kids who I’d love and who would love me back. Teach them to play the guitar, how to appreciate good music, play Dungeons and Dragons with. Was already afraid I’d mess up, though. And they’d stop loving me.

  “When we had Penny and she,” Eddie pressed another kiss to your head, “suggested we name her after my mom, I thought it was perfect. Naming the baby I was afraid would one day stop loving me after someone who never did was perfect to me. I was struggling real hard on names for him, didn’t think Edward was worthy of him. Then he looked at me. In that moment, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn't help but wonder if that was how you felt when you saw me.”

  Eddie wasn’t the insecure kid he used to be—well, not as insecure. He’d been unsure of it at the start of his stay with Wayne, the older Munson was never very vocal with his emotions, though he had on occasion told Eddie he loved him. It wasn’t a machismo thing, Eddie was sure Wayne just didn’t know how to express emotions. It was how he’d been raised. Regardless, Eddie knew Wayne loved him. 

  Loved him when he was a baby, born from the woman he loved and not even his own son. Loved him when he saw him sporadically throughout his early life. Loved him enough to try and fight to keep him when his mom died, though the law gave him back to his dad. Loved him when a social worker showed up on his doorstep with him in tow, a broken shell of a boy. Loved him in those few awkward first interactions as they learned how to be around each other again. Loved him when he started getting in trouble, when police officers started escorting him home, when he’d had to pick him up from the police station, when he knew he was selling things and partaking in a business Wayne didn’t particularly approve of, loved him through it all. By blood, he might have been an uncle. By all other means, that man was his father. And his name was the only name worthy of his son. No rock star could compete. 

  “So, we named him after the other person in my life who never stopped loving me.”

  Eddie could see the shine on Wayne’s eyes as his mouth set in a firm line. 

  Finally, Wayne managed to rasp out, “‘Ye’ah, you’re right. Not for one secon’.”

  Not for once second had he stopped loving his boy. 

  Wayne looked down at little Wayne, whose stare was no longer scrutinizing, “You got ‘yerself a good pair ‘a parents. ‘Couldn’ta asked to be born in a better family.”

  “Uhm, ‘scuse me, I fuwwot his name. What’s he called?”

  “Wayne, baby.” Eddie chuckled and Penny leaned against Maude’s legs, craning forward to get a good look at her brother.

  “Waynie. I like it! Can I put ‘em in my stoller now?”

  “No, Penny.”

  After the flood of emotions that your living room became that morning, Wayne and Maude had stuck around for a couple of hours before they said goodbye to Penny and baby Wayne and made their way home. So, about a three minute walk, tops.

  You settled onto the couch, next to Eddie who had Penny curled on his lap, with baby Wayne, ready to nurse him as Eddie searched for something to watch. You’d just gotten Wayne to latch when Eddie made a pleased sound and you glanced up to find out what had amused him.

  On the tv was an episode of Saturday Night Live, specifically the beginnings of one of Mike Myers’ most popular sketches as Eddie’s favorite character from the show. 

  “Just in time,” At the mention of his son’s name on screen, Eddie glanced down at the baby attached to your boob, whose gaze flickered to the side to meet his as if he was aware of gaining his dad’s attention. 

The corners of Eddie’s lips twitched as his big eyes stared at him, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Welcome to Wayne’s World.”

#pennyverse #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #dilf!eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanction #stranger things 4 #stranger things volume 1 #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things vol 1 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x you #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #girl dad!eddie munson

[phillydilly]

Priorities

⊹♡— in which Charles and his long distance girlfriend get into an argument over her priorities

Part 1 , Part 2

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Authors note: I wrote priorities to challenge myself because I’m not the best at writing angsty situations, but I really hit a bit of a writers block with part 2. I’m happy with how it came out though, I hope you like it!

The days leading up to the Monaco Grand Prix were filled with an angsty silence between Charles and Y/n. They exchanged their usual good morning and good night texts, sprinkled with "I love you" messages, but the heavy unspoken tension hung in the air like a storm cloud.

Monaco race week was always a special time for Charles. It was his home race, and Y/n had attended every year since they'd been together. This year, however, was different. With the unresolved issues between them, Charles wasn't sure if Y/n would come, and Y/n wasn't sure if Charles even wanted her there.

On Friday, Y/n didn't show up at the track as she usually did. They exchanged a few texts throughout the day, discussing mundane topics and avoiding the elephant in the room. Charles couldn't bring himself to ask her why she hadn't come, and Y/n didn't offer any explanation.

"Charles, I wish I understood what's going on," Y/n texted, her words heavy with frustration.

"I know, Y/n," Charles replied, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he debated whether to bring up their issues. But he couldn't find the right words.

Saturday arrived, and there was still no sign of Y/n at the track. Charles's hope began to wane, and he couldn't shake the feeling of heartbreak that gnawed at him. He knew that their relationship was at a crossroads, and he feared that he might have already lost her.

As Charles walked through the paddock, his brother Arthur approached him, concern in his eyes. "Charles, where's Y/n today? She's always here with you."

Charles hesitated for a moment before answering, "We're going through a tough time, Arthur. I don't even know if she's coming."

Arthur furrowed his brow, worried for his brother. "You need to talk, Charles. Don't let this come between you."

On Sunday, the day of the race, Charles woke up with a heavy heart. He knew that Y/n wasn't going to be there for his home race, and it weighed on him as he prepared for the day ahead. He tried to focus on the task at hand, the intense competition of Formula 1, but his mind kept drifting back to Y/n.

Minutes before he was scheduled to get into his car and head to the grid, Charles stood in the paddock, lost in thought. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around, his heart leaping in surprise. There stood Y/n, her eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and longing.

Their gaze locked, and for a moment, it felt like the world around them disappeared. Charles couldn't believe his eyes, and he stammered, "Y/n, you're here?"

Y/n nodded, her voice filled with emotion, "I couldn't stay away, Charles. I know we need to talk, but I didn't want to miss your home race."

Charles's heart swelled with a mixture of relief and joy. He pulled Y/n into a tight embrace, and as he held her, he whispered, "I've missed you so much, Y/n."

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes as she replied, "I've missed you too, Charles. We need to talk, but right now, let's focus on your race."

Charles nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He knew that their conversation could wait, but in this moment, with Y/n by his side, he felt like he could conquer anything.

After the race, Charles finished in sixth place, a result that left him deeply disappointed. He went through his post-race duties mechanically, the disappointment gnawing at him. Normally, he would join the team and fellow drivers for post-race celebrations, but this time, he wanted nothing more than to go home with Y/n.

As they left the circuit and arrived at Charles's apartment, Y/n could sense his despondency. The silence between them was palpable, but Y/n knew that they couldn't avoid the inevitable conversation any longer. She decided to break the ice by giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Charles, I know you're not in the best mood right now," she began cautiously. "But can we please talk about the argument we had at the airport?"

Charles sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. He had bottled up his emotions for too long, and they threatened to spill over. "Y/n, I'm really not in the mood right now."

Y/n felt her patience wearing thin. She had come to Monaco not only to support Charles but also to work through their issues. The tension between them had been simmering for weeks, and it was time to address it. "Charles," she started, her voice tinged with frustration, "I came here because I care about us. I can't just pretend like everything's fine when it's not."

Charles stayed silent, and y/n was started to get the sense that she might have to beg him to talk to her. She was just as uncomfortable talking about this as he was, and she understood that he’s had a tough race, but surely he can understand that they can’t keep bottling up the tension?

“Fine I’ll start” she sighed, “I understand that I should’ve freed up my schedule for our weekend together, and I know that I let you down by prioritising work, but I feel like you don’t take my job seriously.”

That caught Charles’ attention. “How can you even say that?” He said, “I see how hard you work, y/n, but we had planned this weekend together for weeks and you let me down! This season has been the most stressful and exhausting season I have ever done. I’ve been struggling with the car, the team, everything feels like it’s too much,” Charles couldn't contain his emotions any longer. He began to pace back and forth in the living room, his words pouring out like a dam that had burst, "and the one weekend I have time to unwind with the person I love most, she tells me she’s busy? I’ve never felt so lonely.”

Y/n could see the anguish in his eyes, and it tore at her heart, she had never seen him so broken down in all the years she’s known him. She wanted to hold him and comfort him but she knew that this conversation needed to happen first. "Charles, I understand," she said softly, "but I can't just quit my job because you're feeling like shit!"

“God, y/n that’s not what I’m saying!” He yelled, feeling frustrated and unheard, “I just want to know that when we make plans, you aren’t just going to bail on me last minute!”

Y/n didn’t appreciate him yelling at him, and began to feel angry herself, “It happened one time, Charles, you’re being dramatic!”

“Dramatic? I just wanted a fucking break from all the stresses,” he snapped, “something that you have been for me all these years, god forbid I’m disappointed by the fact that you were busy!”

Y/n retorted, “A break? You can’t handle anything, can you? You’re always so damn needy, like a fucking child!”

Stunned by her hurtful words, he took a moment to compose himself, his voice slightly trembling as he responded, “I thought you understood me better than this, but maybe I was wrong.”

Y/n felt her heart sink as she realized the gravity of her words. She had wounded Charles deeply, and before she could say anything more, Charles retreated into another room, leaving Y/n standing there, her heart heavy with remorse.

She knew she had gone too far with her harsh words, and regret gnawed at her. After a few minutes of battling her own emotions, she mustered the courage to follow him.

She knocked gently on the bedroom door, her voice soft and apologetic, "Charles, I'm really sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to hurt you like that."

The door creaked open, and Charles appeared, his eyes still carrying the pain of their heated argument. "Amour, I didn't mean to snap at you either. I've just been under so much pressure lately, and it's been eating at me."

Y/n stepped closer and reached out to hold his hand, her voice filled with sincerity, "I understand, my love. I should've been there for you, and I promise I'll work on balancing work and our time better. But you have to understand that I need to have my own life and career too."

Charles nodded, his grip on her hand tightening. "I know, Y/n. I shouldn't expect you to to just drop everything for me. I love you for who you are, and I want you to be happy."

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes as she said, "I love you too, Charles, but we seriously need to work on communicating better, I don’t want this kind of tension build up between us again."

They talked for hours, pouring out their feelings, fears, and frustrations, while also reminiscing about the moments that had brought them together. They both realized that their love was strong enough to weather the storms if they were willing to be more understanding and patient with each other.

As the night deepened, they snuggled up in each others arms, finding solace in the warmth of their embrace. The storm had passed, and the skies of their relationship cleared, leaving behind a renewed sense of love and understanding.

Wrapped in each other's arms, Charles and Y/n found comfort in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The tension that had weighed on them earlier was replaced with a profound sense of intimacy.

Y/n traced her finger along Charles's jawline, her eyes searching his for reassurance. "You know, Charles, I can't stand seeing you upset. I hate when we fight like that."

Charles smiled gently, his hand caressing her cheek. "I know, Y/n. I can't stand it either. I never want to hurt you, but sometimes, my emotions get the best of me."

Y/n leaned in and kissed his lips tenderly. "I understand, love. We both have our moments, and we'll work through them together."

Charles sighed contentedly, his arms drawing her closer. "I'm so lucky to have you. Even when we argue, I can't imagine my life without you."

Y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "You're my world, Charles. I love you more than anything."

They lay there in silence for a moment, just enjoying the serenity of being together. Charles broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with warmth. "I promise, Y/n, from now on, I'll be more patient and understanding. I'll support your career just as much as you support mine."

Y/n smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude. "And I promise to make more time for us, Charles, to show you how much I love and appreciate you."

Charles's fingers interlaced with Y/n's, and they held each other's gaze, the unspoken promise of their love evident in their eyes.

With a sleepy yawn, Y/n whispered, "Let's put this behind us and focus on the beautiful future we'll build together."

Charles nodded in agreement, his voice filled with tenderness, "Yes, my love. Our future will be bright, and our love will only grow stronger."

They snuggled even closer, their love reaffirmed, and as the night enveloped them, they drifted off to sleep, knowing that their bond was unbreakable, and their love was enduring.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Tags:

@janeholt3 @itsjustkhaos @mirrorball-6 @meadhbhcavanagh @aorifukuzawa @eviethetheatrefreak @dl-yum

#Charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #formula 1 smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #formula 1 #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc story #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x female reader #Charles leclerc x you

[hd-junglebook]

It's Always Been You

Part 3

Previous Chapter ... Next Chapter

Word Count - 4,855

A:N this isn't exactly what I pictured for this chapter, but it goes into more detail about their feelings. Which idk about you, but I have been dying to figure out.

Y/N stepped out of the apartment building, the cold night air whipping at her face and stinging her tear-stained cheeks. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose herself as she made her way down the sidewalk, her heels clicking against the pavement.

As she approached the curb, she saw a sleek grey Mercedes parked along the street, its engine idling softly. The driver's side door opened, and a tall, handsome man stepped out, a concerned expression on his face as he hurried to greet her.

"Hi," he said, his voice warm and slightly hesitant. "Are you alright? I got scared you were gonna ditch me out here."

Y/N forced a laugh, the sound hollow and brittle to her own ears. She felt a pang of guilt at the concern in his voice. If only he knew how close she had come to canceling.

How the thought of walking back into that apartment and facing Jack again made her stomach churn with a sickening mixture of heartbreak and humiliation.

She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over once again.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't bear the thought of spending another night alone in her room, crying herself to sleep over a man who would never love her the way she wanted him to.

So instead, she pasted on a smile, straightening her shoulders with false bravado, hoping that the dim streetlights would hide the redness of her eyes and the tremor in her hands.

"No, no, I wouldn't do that," she said, her voice falsely bright. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit.

"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting. I just had a little trouble finding my keys." The lie tasted bitter on her tongue.

Liam studied her face for a moment, his blue eyes searching hers. His brow furrowed with concern. "Are you sure? You look upset." He reached out tentatively, his fingertips grazing her arm in a comforting gesture.

Y/n hesitated, chewing on her lower lip as she debated whether to tell him the truth. She had only matched with Liam a while ago, and the last thing she wanted was to burden him with her problems.

But there was something about his gentle, caring demeanor that made her feel safe and understood. She met his gaze, seeing only kindness and warmth reflected back at her.

"It's nothing," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She averted her gaze, focusing on a crack in the sidewalk. "Me and my roommate just had a disagreement. Happens all the time." The words felt flimsy, a poor attempt to downplay the depth of her pain.

Liam's expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand in his. His touch was warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the icy cold that surrounded them.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I hope tonight makes you feel better." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing gesture.

Y/N nodded, blinking back fresh tears. She drew in a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. "I'm sure it will Liam." She managed a small, grateful smile, hoping it reached her eyes.

The man smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he held out his hand to her. "No worries," he said, his voice warm and reassuring.

"I'm just glad you're here. I've been looking forward to this all week." His excitement was palpable, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Y/N felt a flicker of warmth in her chest at his words, a tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, this night wouldn't be a complete disaster.

She hesitated for a brief moment before placing her hand in his, letting him help her into the car, the leather seats cool and smooth against her bare legs. The simple chivalrous gesture made her feel cared for, a welcome change from the emptiness that had consumed her.

As they climbed into the warmth of the Mercedes, Y/N felt a flicker of something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope. Maybe, just maybe, Liam could help her forget about Jack, even for a little while.

She glanced over at him as he settled into the driver's seat, admiring the strong line of his jaw and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel with easy confidence.

they drove away from the curb, Y/N leaned her head back against the headrest, her eyes drifting closed as she tried to block out the memory of Jack's words, the look of pity and regret on his face as he shattered her heart into a million tiny pieces. She forced herself to take deep, even breaths, focusing on the present moment and the possibility of a fresh start.

.…

Jacks POV

Jack stormed back into the apartment, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the walls. His heart heart throbbed violently, a nauseating mixture of anger, jealousy, and regret churning in his stomach as he replayed the conversation with Y/N over and over again in his mind.

He paced the length of the living room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to calm the rage that threatened to consume him. The apartment felt too small, too cramped, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to breathe past the lump in his throat.

Everywhere he looked, he saw reminders of Y/N - the soft grey blanket she always curled up with on movie nights, the stack of her favorite books on the coffee table, the framed picture of the two of them at graduation, their arms around each other and their smiles wide and carefree.

He picked up the picture and stared at it for a long moment, his heart aching. He couldn't believe that everything was over. They had been together for so long, he couldn't imagine his life without her. He threw the picture across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

He sank down on the couch, his head in his hands.

With a growl of frustration, Jack snatched up his phone, his fingers shaking as he opened the tracking app and searched for Y/N's location. He knew it was wrong, knew that he had no right to invade her privacy like this, but he couldn't help himself. He needed to know where she was, needed to know that she was safe.

The app showed her moving through the city, the little red dot that represented her weaving through the streets at a steady pace. Jack watched it for a long moment, his heart clenching with every passing second, before he finally tore his eyes away, disgusted with himself.

He stalked into the kitchen, his mind racing as he tried to think of something, anything, to distract himself from the pain that threatened to tear him apart.

His eyes fell on the recipe box that Y/N had brought with her when she moved in, the faded index cards inside filled with her grandmother's handwriting and the smells of childhood memories.

Before he knew what he was doing, Jack pulled the box open and flipped through the cards, his fingers tracing the loops and whorls of each letter.

He stopped at a card that had 'Grandma's Best Chocolate Chip Cookies' written in large, loopy letters. It was Y/N's favorite recipe, the one she always used to make when she was feeling down or just wanted to fill the house with the scent of home.

Jack was pulling out ingredients, his hands moving on autopilot as he measured and mixed and stirred, his movements slow and deliberate. He measured the flour and sugar, added the butter and eggs, and then stirred in the chocolate chips.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air, the warm, comforting scent of Y/N's favorite cookies wrapping around him like a hug.

Jack took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He could do this. He could make these cookies, and maybe, just maybe, it would help him to feel a little bit closer to Y/N.

But even as he worked, his mind wouldn't let him rest. He kept seeing the look on Y/N's face as he told her he didn't feel the same way, the way her eyes had filled with tears and her lips had trembled with the effort of holding back a sob.

He kept hearing the sound of her heels clicking on the floor as she walked away from him, the finality of it like a knife to the heart.

The cookies came out of the oven, golden brown and perfect, but Jack barely noticed. He was too busy pacing the length of the kitchen, his phone clutched in his hand as he checked Y/N's location over and over again, watching as the little red dot moved further and further away from him.

The hours ticked by, the night deepening outside the windows as Jack lost himself in his thoughts. The apartment was a mess, the kitchen counter covered in flour and sugar and dirty mixing bowls, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

All he could think about was Y/N, and the way he had ruined everything with his cowardice and his fear.

Finally, as the first rays of dawn began to peek through the curtains, Jack collapsed onto the couch, his body exhausted and his heart heavy with the weight of his mistakes.

He closed his eyes, the image of Y/N's tear-stained face burned into his mind like a brand, a reminder of everything he had lost and everything he had thrown away.

Jack knew that he had no one to blame but himself, knew that he had let his own insecurities and doubts get in the way of something that could have been beautiful.

And now, as he lay there in the silence of the empty apartment, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon still lingering in the air, he couldn't help but wonder if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

…

Jack stood at the edge of the rink, his eyes glued to his phone as he refreshed Y/N's location for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Three days had passed since their argument, three days since she had walked out of the apartment and out of his life, and he still hadn't heard a word from her.

He had texted her countless times, his messages ranging from frantic apologies to desperate pleas for her to come home. But every time, he was met with silence, the little blue checkmarks next to his messages taunting him with their unresponsiveness.

The sound of skates scraping against the ice jolted him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Nico gliding towards him, a concerned expression on his face. Jack quickly shoved his phone into his pocket, hoping that his teammate hadn't noticed the way his hands were shaking.

"What's wrong with you, Jack?" Nico asked, his thick Swiss accent making the words sound even more blunt than they already were. "Did you break up with your girlfriend again?"

Jack flinched at the question, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. If only it were that simple, he thought bitterly. If only he had a girlfriend to break up with, instead of a best friend he had driven away with his own stupidity and cowardice.

"No," he said, his voice rough and hoarse from lack of sleep. "It's not that. It's... it's Y/N."

Nico's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his eyes widening as he took in the dark circles beneath Jack's eyes and the gauntness of his cheeks. "Y/N?" he repeated, his voice laced with confusion. "What happened with Y/N?"

Jack sighed, his shoulders slumping as he ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't told anyone about the argument, hadn't wanted to admit to the world how badly he had screwed things up.

But standing there on the ice, with Nico looking at him with such concern and understanding, he felt the words spilling out of him before he could stop them.

"I messed up," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I told her I didn't feel the same way about her, and now she's gone. She hasn't come home in three days, and she won't answer any of my texts or calls. I don't know what to do."

“You idiot,” he said, but his voice lacked any real malice. “Why would you say something like that to her? You know how much she cares about you.”

“I know,” Jack said miserably. “I just... I panicked. I didn't know what to say, and I didn't want to hurt her. But I guess I did anyway.”

Nico was silent for a moment, his eyes searching Jack's face as if he were trying to read the truth behind his words. Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle but firm.

"Jack," he said, his hand coming up to rest on his teammate's shoulder. "I know you care about Y/N, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. You need to give her space, need to let her come to you when she's ready."

Jack shook his head, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. "I can't," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose her, Nico. She's my best friend, the most important person in my life. I don't know how to be without her."

Nico sighed, his eyes softening with sympathy. "I know," he said, his voice almost tender. "But you can't force her to forgive you, Jack. You have to let her come to that decision on her own. And in the meantime, you need to focus on taking care of yourself. You're no good to anyone if you're running yourself into the ground like this."

Jack knew that Nico was right, knew that he couldn't keep going on like this. But the thought of letting go, of giving up on the one person who meant everything to him, made his chest ache with a pain that felt almost physical.

"I don't know if I can do that," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heartbeat. "I don't know if I'm strong enough."

Nico smiled, his hand squeezing Jack's shoulder in a gesture of comfort and support. "You are," he said, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

"You're one of the strongest people I know, Jack. And you're not alone in this. Your team is here for you, and we'll support you every step of the way."

Jack felt a rush of gratitude at his teammate's words, a tiny flicker of hope sparking to life in his chest. He knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult, that there would be days when the pain would feel like too much to bear.

But with his friends by his side, and the memory of Y/N's smile to guide him, he knew that he could find his way back to the light, no matter how dark the path might seem.

"Thanks, Nico," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Nico grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Probably drive yourself crazy," he said, his tone teasing. "But that's what friends are for, right?"

Jack laughed, the sound weak and watery, but genuine, nonetheless. And as he stepped back onto the ice, his skates cutting through the smooth surface with a newfound sense of purpose.

…

y/n’s POV

Y/N sat on Liam's couch, her phone clutched in her hand as she scrolled mindlessly through her social media feeds. The apartment was quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the shower running in the bathroom. She tried to focus on the pictures and posts flashing across her screen, but her mind kept drifting back to the one person she was trying so hard to forget.

Jack.

The name echoed in her mind like a heartbeat, a constant reminder of the pain and heartbreak she had left behind. It had been three days since she had walked out of their apartment, three days since she had last seen his face or heard his voice.

And yet, he was still there, lurking in the corners of her mind like a ghost she couldn't shake.

She knew that she was just using Liam as a distraction, a way to numb the ache in her chest and forget about the hole in her heart. But he was a good one, always there with a smile and a joke whenever she needed it most.

Whenever she found herself slipping back into thoughts of Jack, Liam would appear at her side, his presence a comforting reminder that she wasn't alone.

Y/N sighed, her fingers hovering over her phone screen as she debated whether to check Jack's social media. She knew it was a bad idea, knew that seeing his face would only make the pain worse. But a part of her couldn't help but wonder what he was doing, couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was thinking of her too.

Before she could give in to the temptation, the sound of Liam's voice broke through her thoughts.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower, Y/N," he called out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he grabbed some clothes from his bedroom.

Y/N looked up from her phone, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Okay, don't take too long," she called back, her voice light and teasing.

She heard the bathroom door click shut, and then the sound of the shower turning on, the water pattering against the tiles in a steady rhythm. Y/N leaned back against the couch cushions, her eyes drifting closed as she tried to push away the thoughts of Jack that still lingered in her mind.

But even as she sat there, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of Liam's apartment, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The ache in her chest was still there, a constant reminder of the love she had lost and the friendship she had left behind.

Jack's absence left a void that no amount of distraction could fill, and Y/n was beginning to realize that she needed to confront her feelings head-on. The sound of running water filled the room, Y/n closed her eyes, steeling herself for the inevitable confrontation with her emotions.

Her phone pinging broke the silence of his living room. "can’t wait to see you! mom and I gonna pick you up from the airport." The text from Luke read.

Y/N's heart sank as she read the text message, the words on the screen a stark reminder of the life she had left behind. In the whirlwind of emotions and distractions of the past few days, she had completely forgotten about their planned weekend trip back to Michigan.

She cursed under her breath, her mind already racing with the logistics of packing and getting to the airport on time. A glance at the clock on the wall told her it was already 10:30, and she knew that Jack would likely be home by now, probably wondering where she was and why she hadn't come back.

With a sigh, Y/N threw her phone into her purse and made her way over to the bathroom door. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the wood as she debated what to say. Finally, she knocked softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

"Hey Liam," she called out, her tone apologetic. "I totally forgot I have a weekend trip to pack for. I need to head out."

There was a pause, and then the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back. Liam peeked his head out, his hair damp and his skin glistening with water droplets. He had a small smile on his lips, but Y/N could see the disappointment lurking in his eyes.

"Oh, okay," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Do you need a ride? I can take you."

Y/N hesitated, the offer tempting in its simplicity. It would be so easy to let Liam drive her home, to put off the inevitable confrontation with Jack for just a little while longer.

But she knew that she couldn't keep running forever, knew that eventually, she would have to face the music and deal with the consequences of her actions.

"No, that's okay," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I can take a cab. I don't want to put you out."

Liam shook his head, his smile widening. "Don't be silly," he said, his tone light and teasing. "I was just getting out anyway. Let me drive you back home."

Y/N felt a rush of gratitude at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest at the kindness and generosity of his offer. She knew that she was lucky to have him in her life, knew that he would always be there for her, no matter what the future might hold.

"Okay," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Liam. I really appreciate it."

Liam grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Anything for you, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with a fondness that made her heart ache. "Just give me a minute to get dressed, and we'll be on our way."

Y/N nodded, her throat tight with emotion as she watched him disappear back into the bathroom. She knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult, that there would be moments of doubt and uncertainty.

And as she stood there, waiting for Liam to emerge from the bathroom, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, the journey ahead would lead her back to the place she had always called home, back to the love that had always been waiting for her, just out of reach.

…

The hallway was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the soft glow of the emergency exit sign at the end of the corridor. Her footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor, each step bringing her closer to the door of the apartment she shared with Jack.

Y/N's heart raced as she stepped out of the elevator, the familiar scent of home filling her nostrils.

Liam followed close behind her, his presence a comforting warmth at her back. Y/N could feel the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of her shirt, and for a moment, she allowed herself to lean into him, to draw strength from his solid, steady presence.

But just as they were about to reach the door, Liam's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around Y/N's wrist and pulling her back towards him. She let out a gasp of surprise, her heart leaping into her throat as she spun around to face him.

In the dim light of the hallway, Liam's face was shadowed, his features obscured by the darkness. But Y/N could still see the glint of his eyes, the curve of his lips as he smiled down at her. His breath ghosted across her cheek, warm and slightly sweet, like he had just taken a sip of hot cocoa.

Y/N's heart raced as Liam pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist like a coil of heat. The hallway was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the soft glow of the elevator buttons behind them.

The air was thick with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and the faint aroma of cleaning products, a sharp contrast to the warm, spicy scent of Liam's cologne.

His face was mere inches from hers, his eyes dark and intense in the dim light. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the sound so loud that she was sure he could hear it too.

"I had a great few days with you," Liam murmured, his voice low and husky. His fingers trailed up her spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Y/N shivered, her skin tingling with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

She knew that she should pull away, knew that this was a dangerous game to play. But there was something about the way Liam looked at her, something about the heat in his gaze and the strength of his touch, that made her feel alive in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.

The world around them seemed to fade away, the sound of the elevator and the hum of the fluorescent lights receding into the background.

All Y/N could focus on was the warmth of Liam's body against hers, the way his fingers tangled in her hair and his breath mingled with her own.

She didn't hear the soft ding of the elevator arriving on their floor, didn't hear the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart, the rush of blood in her ears as Liam leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above her own.

Her head was spinning, her heart pounding with a mixture of anger, frustration, and desperation. It was time to stop chasing after a dream that would never come true, time to stop pining for a man who would never see her as anything more than a friend.

And in that moment, something inside her snapped. Before she could think twice, Y/N reached up and grabbed Liam's face, pulling him down to her level and crashing her lips against his.

The kiss was hot and hungry, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building inside her for so long. Y/N poured everything she had into that kiss, every ounce of emotion and desire and desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, she could find with Liam what she had always wanted with Jack.

But even as Liam's arms wrapped around her waist, even as his tongue tangled with hers and his hands roamed over her body, Y/N knew that it wasn't enough.

The spark that she felt with Jack, the electricity that crackled between them every time they touched, was conspicuously absent.

Kissing Liam was nice, but it didn't set her soul on fire the way Jack's mere presence did.

Finally, Y/N pulled back, her chest heaving and her lips swollen. She looked up at Liam, her eyes searching his face for some sign of the connection she so desperately craved.

But all she saw was a man who cared for her, who wanted to be there for her, but who could never make her feel the way Jack did.

"I'll see you when I get back, Liam," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Three days. And I’ll come home."

Liam's face softened, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. "Okay, Y/N," he murmured, his voice gentle and understanding. "Don’t forget about me." And so, with a final, shuddering breath, Y/N pulled back from Liam's embrace, her eyes shining with a new determination.

"Y/N?"

Y/N's shoulders tensed, her heart leaping into her throat as she spun around to face the source of the sound. And there, standing at the end of the hallway, his face a mask of shock and hurt, was Jack.

The sight of him hit her like a punch to the gut, the air rushing out of her lungs in a sharp gasp. He looked tired and worn, his hair disheveled and his eyes rimmed with red.

Even in the dim light of the hallway, she could see the pain etched into every line of his face, the betrayal and confusion swirling in his gaze.

"Jack," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

But even as the words left her lips, she knew they were a mistake. She could see the anger flashing in Jack's eyes, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

In that moment, she knew that whatever fragile peace they had managed to maintain over the past few days was about to come crashing down around them.

The hallway suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in on her like a vice. The scent of cigarette smoke and cleaning products was overwhelming, making her head spin and her stomach churn. And still, Jack stood there, his gaze boring into hers like a laser, his presence a physical force that she could feel in every cell of her body.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, to try to explain or apologize or beg for forgiveness. But before she could get a word out she thought back to their fight. The things jack had said to her in this same cover of darkness.

Jack brushed past, his steps leading him into the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him with a resounding thud. Y/N felt like she had been punched in the gut, the air rushing out of her lungs in a sharp gasp.

…

Tag List <3

@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay

#fluff #angst #masterlist #new fic #x reader #jack #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagine #new writers on tumblr #jack hughes fanfiction #jh #jh86 #timo meier #njd #new jersey devils #luke hughes #dawson mercer #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes series #jack hughes x #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x sister!reader #jack hughes masterlist

[runnning-outof-time]

A (Debatably) Lovely Dinner | Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) has her family over for a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. Her father and uncles tell her that it tastes lovely...but are they actually thinking that?

Warnings: drinking, language

Word Count: 1773

A/N: this is the first daughter!reader fic I’ve written in a bit - I hope it’s good. I’m excited to be writing requests again! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories!

(Y/N) wrang her hands together as she looked over all of the pots that were currently boiling on the stove. She took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to compose herself and shake the nerves from her body.

"You're doing great, love. It's going to be a good meal," her husband, James, offered some encouragement as he came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he pulled her into his chest.

"Maybe I should have accepted the catering offer? There's a lot of people coming over," she expressed her worry, eyes still focused on the pots. She then began to wonder why she even agreed to hosting her family in the first place.

"This is going to be extra special because you made it all," he told her, kissing her temple once more before letting her get back to work. "And your cooking is wonderful," he complimented her, sending a smile her way as she turned to look at him.

She smiled back, although it wavered due to the nerves she was still feeling, watching as he exited the kitchen before she got back to work.

(Y/N) was bringing the final dish to the dining table two hours later. She smiled at everyone who was waiting patiently for dinner to start and took a deep breath as she moved to stand behind her husband's chair.

"James and I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight. I hope that you enjoy what I've prepared for you to eat," she gave a small speech, her nervous smile still present as she then sat down.

"Let's eat then, eh?" Tommy suggested, smiling at his daughter from the opposite end of the table. He was proud of her for this vast spread that she'd managed to cook up. It smelled wonderful to him.

Comments of agreement came from around the table as everyone began taking dishes and spooning helpings of the food onto their plates. (Y/N) watched as this happened, wanting to make sure all was well; filling her plate last.

Dinner began quietly, the sounds of forks hitting plates the only thing to be heard. (Y/N) couldn't help but sneak a few glances around the table, wanting to see if there were any problems. All looked fine to her.

Somehow, she didn't manage to catch her uncles, John and Arthur, throwing sideways glances at each other in between each bite they took. Something about the taste seemed off to them. Whether it was the seasoning on the roast, or the choice or cut of the vegetables, the food wasn't exactly pleasurable to eat.

But the pleased look on their niece's face told them that she was happy to have the family over, eating a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. They couldn't even think of ruining things for her by bringing up the fact that her cooking was well under par.

And besides, Tommy seemed to be fine with eating it, and he never ate anything.

Dinner continued and small talk was made. The usual discussion of business between the Shelby family had been swapped for stories of the past and the men making arrangements for their annual hunting trip that was fastly approaching.

All was well until (Y/N) decided to ask the table for opinions on the food. "How has everyone been enjoying the food?" She wasn't sure if she was being too upfront in asking for opinions, but no one had offered any prior to her question, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't dying to know their thoughts.

"Lovely as always, darling," her husband, James, was the first to share his thoughts on it, sending her a smile as he cut himself another piece of the roast.

"Thanks, James," she smiled back at him before looking out to the rest of the table. No one else's eyes met hers; their gazes cast down on their plates. Maybe that means they really like the food, she thought to herself. "Dad?" she asked after a few moments had passed. Tommy looked up at her, his brows raised as if to say 'what?' "What do you think?" she asked, curious to know what his thoughts on the meal were.

"It's good, love," he told her, nodding as he grabbed his glass of whiskey, "really good."

"Thank you," she chirped in response, feeling extremely pleased with herself. She grabbed her fork and knife then and went to cut a piece of the roast.

"Well I think that..." another comment started to come out, but it was abruptly stopped. "What the bloody hell was that for?" the voice belonged to Linda Shelby, and she was now glaring daggers at her husband, Arthur. Arthur had his brows furrowed as he glanced between his wife and (Y/N), a bit of an uneasy expression present on his face. "Spit it out, Arthur," she snapped in a harsh whisper. Arthur said nothing of sustenance though, instead just shaking his head and muttering "don't," under his breath.

"Were you going to say something, Linda?" (Y/N) asked, her curiosity peaked as she focused on the blonde woman.

Linda shared one last look with her husband, who was still discreetly shaking his head, before she plastered a smile on her face and turned to look at the younger woman. "I was just going to say that...that...this is a lovely dinner, (Y/N)," she finally shared her opinion on the cooking, although it may not have been originally what she wanted to say. (Y/N) took it though, a smile breaking onto her features.

"Aww thanks so much, Linda. I was so worried about this dinner. I'm so happy to hear that everyone is enjoying it," (Y/N) expressed her previous worries with the group, earning a chorus of 'no it was good’ comments in response.

Overly pleased with herself now, (Y/N) was smiling from ear to ear as she continued eating her dinner. Just wait until they try the dessert, she thought to herself, pride flowing through her.

The Shelby men followed James into his study after the dessert plates had been removed from the table. (Y/N) had decided to take the women around for a tour of her new home, a tour which the men felt they didn't need to join. All five of them had a glass in their hand, and they were seated on the chairs that were positioned around the mantle.

"I don't know how you do it, James," Arthur said with a sigh as he brought his glass back to his lips. He took a drink and then let out a sigh after swallowing it.

"Do what?" James was confused by the older man's statement.

"Eat (Y/N)'s food daily," Arthur didn't beat around the bush. "I mean, she's me neice and I love her, but the food she cooks is fucking terrible."

James nodded slowly in response to Arthur's statement, a knowing look present on his face as he looked like he was fighting a smile. He then took a look at Tommy, checking the waters before sharing information about the daughter of a man who could do some nasty damage if he said the wrong thing. He wasn't surprised to see his father in law looking at him.

"Well how do ya do it?" John broke the silence, signaling to the other man that he'd been taking too long to respond.

"She's my wife," he began, a smile forming on his face, "I've learned to love every part of being with her."

"Ah you've gone soft, lad," Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at the response he got before he set his sights on his brother, "and you, Tom…how do you do it, brother?"

Tommy laughed to himself as he heard the question. He brought his whiskey up and took a sip, pausing for a moment longer before finally answering the question: "guess it grows on you." His response was simple, and he followed it with a shrug.

"You both have not a clue what you're talking about," Arthur commented with a shake of his head, "John, help me out here. It's nothing against (Y/N)...her food's just downright terrible, right?" he looked to his younger brother for some back up.

"Right," John nodded, raising his glass in agreement.

"Good man," Arthur praised his brother for answering in line with him.

"I think her cooking's good," Finn chimed in from where he was sitting by the fire.

"You wouldn't know what's good for ya, Finn," Arthur dismissed his youngest brother's opinion. Finn shook his head and looked at the fire, wondering why he decided to add his two cents in the first place.

Silence fell in the room then, and James couldn't help but keep thinking about his response to Arthur's question. It made him chuckle as he realized that maybe he hadn't been completely truthful with what he had said.

"What's funny?" John asked, catching the other man's laugh.

All eyes were on him in an instant. He could tell by their intent gazes that he wouldn't be able to get out of this one. "Nothing...it's just that," he paused, letting out a breathy laugh as he shook his head, "I will admit that her cooking has been harder to learn to love than the rest of her," he shared what he'd been thinking.

John and Arthur immediately began laughing, both happy that they'd gotten the young man to break and share his actual thoughts on their niece's cooking. They knew that he felt the same as they did just by the vague response he gave earlier, but hearing it cemented the victory.

"It took me a while too. You'll get there," Tommy cut through the laughter of his brothers to offer his son in law some advice. James smiled at Tommy, happy to know that maybe he'd be able to get used to it, just like his father in law had.

(Y/N) was sitting with the rest of the women in the front room. She'd become quiet, letting the others continue their conversation about the latest fashion trends. She had too much on her mind.

A smile was present on her face as she thought back to the dinner, and all of the lovely comments she received from her family. Giddiness bubbled up inside of her as her mind went to thinking about what she would cook for their next family dinner. She couldn’t wait to have them over again!

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x daughter reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x daughter reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[lets-try-some-writing]

Got Angst for Prime.

AU: Whatever AU you want to use.

Concept: Ratchet's Optics never really recovered from his Synth-En incident. He sees everything in a tint of green. And his optics show it. So, every time OP looks Ratchet in the optics, he sees the blue with a tinge of green surrounding it, and he gets hit with how bad he failed Ratchet.

(I've pretty much always HC that Ratchet had some lasting aftereffects of his tests. This one's my favorite though.)

I can't help it.

I am going to make this shippy.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Optimus had always loved Ratchet's optics. If you asked him, he would deny the way he often found himself staring wistfully off in the doctor's direction. It was all professional concern for a mech who simply didn't know when he needed to rest and recover. If he shared a glance with Ratchet for a little longer than normal, it was simply because he cared. That was what he told others. Whether or not they believe him was up for debate.

But beneath that veil of half truths created for both his and Ratchet's safety, Optimus's affections ran deep.

Even before the war, he'd loved those optics. Ratchet's optics were aged even when Orion was young. And yet they held a life to them that was undeniable. Passion incapable of being smothered by the harsh words of others and the seemingly impossible trial that was going up a caste. Ratchet bore every burden and political scheme with blunt determination, his optics always shining brightly as a hint of a smirk played on his features. Optimus loved that mischievous grin and the telltale glint that Ratchet got in his optics when he had some wild plan cooked up. Even though he was unable to bring himself to utter the compliments that formed in the back of his mind, he loved the Doctor's optics more than he cared to admit. So much energy contained within a compact frame. It was beautiful in its own unique way.

Once the war began and Orion Pax became Optimus Prime, he did not think about Ratchet's optics as much. At least until they began to lose the shine that he had been so familiar with in his youth.

War was uncaring and it held no love for those trapped within its web. Optimus endured it with the patience of the old gods of Cybertron long since left to rot. Whispers of ancient beings far beyond his comprehension clouded his sense of time. Tears he wept for the fallen turned his gaze away from those around him and instead to the rivers of energon that flowed around his pedes. He endured it as the last of a long line of divines given frame. But Ratchet was mortal, and as the war dragged on, those optics that Optimus adored grew darker. Passion changed to red hot fury so bright and dangerous that Ratchet's gaze felt almost like venom at times.

Stokes of fire leapt through Ratchet's blazing optics, and more than once Optimus feared he'd be scorched by that boiling inferno of loss and grief. And yet despite being the one to lead their war ever onward, Optimus never felt Ratchet's anger directed at him. When those optics gazed up at him, Optimus felt only age old affection and care. Fire was tamed and turned to comforting warmth. Steady servos ran along his arms and a soothing voice lulled Optimus into temporary serenity on long cycles where he simply had no more tears to shed or reason to give to their Primus forsaken war. All the while those optics met his own and Optimus was at peace.

Vorns passed by. Optimus continued in his eternal march toward victory and Ratchet continued to change. Rage turned into bitterness, the molten hot wrath of war transforming into a deep set sorrow that left creases in the living metal that surrounded Ratchet's optics. Grim darkness pooled in that once passionate gaze. Those optics flickered in wrath long fostered each time Megatron made himself known. Those optics flared with every injury that the team brought with them back to base once they arrived on Earth. Those optics that Optimus loved so dearly dimmed and quieted, their light softening in the dark of the medical bay on long nights when Ratchet thought no one would hear his quiet sobs.

Optimus always loved Ratchet's optics.

He should have treated him better.

"Does it still hurt?" Optimus asked as he ran his digits over the weld on Ratchet's side.

"Of course it does. The weld has only been in place for a month and the wound ran deep." Ratchet replied clinically, not looking up from his work even as Optimus risked wrapped his arms around the doctor's waist. Others could see, but in the moment, he didn't care.

"I'm sorry." He murmured into the crook of Ratchet's neck as he leaned down, desperate to feel the comforting warmth of Ratchet's frame against his. The Doctor stilled, his field extending and wrapping around Optimus is concern.

"Optimus, please, we've talked about this. I was out of line in saying that. You are not at fault." Ratchet broke from Optimus's embrace and turned around. Optimus wanted to look away in shame as those optics looked up at him, still as lovely as ever, but tinted a haunting green.

A sign of Optimus's greatest failure.

"I am at fault, and you know that as well as I do. Let us not delude ourselves." Optimus reached out to cup Ratchet's face. The Doctor leaned into his touch obligingly. Any open affection was a risk, but there was something unspoken that needed to be addressed before time ran out and the world drew them apart yet again.

"You have always done what you think is right. I can't blame you for hoping and trying to save a mech who was once a friend." Ratchet's optics cycled and the green became more prominent within them in response to his emotions. Optimus frowned and shifted so caress the metal around the Doctors optics. His scarred digits traced creases and small scuffs, lingering around the corners of Ratchet's optics as Optimus observed the green hue in sorrow.

"You shouldn't have felt pressured to do this to yourself. The risks were too great. If I had only-" A digit pressed to Optimus's derma before he could continue, silencing his attempts at being self deprecating before they could truly begin.

"I made my choice. It is not your fault. Besides, the world is just a little more green for me now. That is all." Ratchet forced a smile, but Optimus could not bring himself to do the same. Ratchet's words while he was on synthetic energon were cruel... but undeniably true. How many times had Optimus had the chance to bring down Megatron only to let the warlord go? How many lives could he have saved if he had only put aside his feelings on the matter and acted?

"I can tell you are beating yourself up over it. Stop. It's over now and I'm fine." Ratchet pulled away and Optimus's servos fell. They stood quietly together for a nanoklik before Ratchet moved forward, his smaller frame pressing against Optimus's in a gentle embrace. Strong arms hooked themselves around the crooks of Optimus's torso, unwavering but gentle enough that if he wished, the Prime could pull away.

"Forgive me." Optimus murmured in the quiet of the medical bay. A gentle hum met his plea. Neither said another word as they stood in the relative dark, comforted in the presence of one another. Only the light of the nearby console lit up the area, but it was more than enough for the Prime to work with.

Green tinted optics glowed in the gloom, illuminating Optimus's face as he leaned down. Ratchet's optics closed, most likely expecting a gentle touch to the crest of his helm. Instead, Optimus leaned as close as he was able, even going so far as to angle his helm so that he could get near enough to place a ghost of a kiss over Ratchet's optics. Each closed optic received the lightest of touches, so soft that it may as well have been a gust of wind. But as Optimus pulled back and settled into the helm touch that Ratchet had likely been prepared for, the Prime finally smiled.

"Thank you for standing by my side." Ratchet stared in shock as the Prime's digits again found their place tracing around the Doctor's optics. Ratchet stood still, uncertain of how to respond until Optimus spoke again.

"I've always loved your optics, regardless of their hue." Optimus assured, earning a gentle huff from his companion.

"You sap." Ratchet whispered even as his optics glowed in all too rare joy at the show of affection. The green was still present, a permanent reminder of the costs of war. However Optimus continued to smile all the same, simply pleased to have those optics locked on him.

Yes, Optimus would admit it aloud if times permitted.

He had always loved Ratchet's optics.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #ratchet #optiratch #transformers fanfiction #fanfiction #slight angst #finally a chance to write something angsty fluffy #I do love me these two old bots

[abbyromanoff]

I've got a request. Not really sure about the details, but I'm sure you could work that out, being the amazing writer that you are :)

It's a really vague idea, I guess, but something along the lines of wanda being a fallen angel who has sided with heaven, and Nat being a fallen angel who has sided with hell. They both fall for Fem! Reader and try to get them to support their respective sides

Let me know if this isn't something you're comfortable with writing. Thank you so much :)

YOUR DECISION

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader, Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2,704

WARNINGS: R cheating (not really), making out, “bad boy” Nat, church girl!Wanda, self-homophobia, hidden relationships, Wanda cheating on vision, love affairs, love triangle, small sexual themes, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“C’mon, can’t you stay the night just this once?” The redhead begged, holding your hand in order to keep you close. She tried pulling you closer to no avail as you started gathering your clothes.

“You know I can’t, Nat.” She groaned, flopping back on the bed and exposing part of her nude body. You bit your lip, forcing your gaze off of her before you did end up listening to her.

“My parents think I’m still at the library, they’ll be pissed if they find out I’m here.” Nat wasn’t known greatly around the area, mainly for her delinquent acts that got her into multiple jail cells. In your eyes, she was just misunderstood, nobody saw the side of her that you did. She was soft, a sweetheart who just wanted to find her person, but she already knew that person was you.

But then there was Wanda, the priest's daughter and your childhood best friend. You knew of her feelings for you, yet you tried to deny they existed. You liked her in more ways that you wish you did, but she wasn’t out yet, and she probably never would be. And she had a boyfriend, Vision. She didn’t seem to have a true interest in him, only one that she’d make up and exaggerate so someone would believe her when she said she loves him.

“Just tell them you’re sleeping over a friend’s. Tell them it’s Wanda, aren’t you guys like, I don’t know, best friends?” She pulled you down to sit on her lap, her hands holding you close by your waist. You smiled down at her and debated the option in your mind, was it worth the risk? Anything was worth it when it came to her, but you truly couldn’t stay.

“I wish I could, I do.” She pouted playfully, soon feeling your fingers turning her lips upward.

“Turn that frown upside down, I want to see you smile.” She gripped you just a bit tighter, hoping to keep you in her grasp forever.

“How am I supposed to be happy when you’re leaving me?” You rolled your eyes at her antics, slapping her shoulder with no real indication to cause pain. She threw an overplayed gasp your way in response.

“How about this, I go home tonight, but next weekend I’ll convince my parents to let me stay the night at a ‘friends’ house?” Your statement seemed to bring her slight joy as a grin made its way to her face. She leaned in to kiss you, muttering words between each one.

“As long as I have you, baby.” You got home with multiple different texts from two women: Wanda and Natasha. The redhead was telling you how much she missed you already and how she couldn’t wait to see you again while Wanda had been asking why you weren’t answering her calls. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as you decided to ring the woman, hearing her voice on the other end of the line only seconds after.

“Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for an hour!”

“Relax, I was at the library.” You could tell she didn’t believe you, you were best friends after all, she knew every lie you told.

“You know lying is a sin, Y/N.” She teased, and you could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor. She was most likely changing, yet you couldn’t help the less innocent thoughts from approaching.

“Were you with Nat again?” She knew of your unlabeled relationship with the troublemaker and openly expressed her hatred towards it. But you didn’t care to listen, too drunk on her love to think of anything else. You were first using her as a way to get over Wanda, but then you caught feelings. Nat made hers pretty obvious, she wanted something with you, a real relationship where she could hold your hand in public and kiss you whenever, but you were both waiting for the time to be right.

“I shouldn’t even ask at this point, you’re already always there.” You could sense the annoyance floating through her voice and groaned internally. You couldn’t deal with this right now, you just wanted to get home and relax. It was dark out and you continued to look each way in fear, your legs quickening in speed the colder you felt.

“Please don’t say that, you know it’s not true.” She ended the call after a small ‘whatever’ and it dawned on you just how frustrated she seemed. It wasn’t your fault she couldn’t come to terms with herself, you were just moving on. And if she didn’t want to accept that then she didn’t have to, but you were happy with Nat, even if you didn't exactly know what you two were, it still brought excitement whenever you’d see her or touch her. Her soft skin against yours just felt right, you didn’t have a word to explain it other than that, everything just seemed to make sense when you were with her.

Your parents were instantly questioning you once you got home, but you just shut them down with the fact that finals were headed your way. They seem to understand and let you go with a deep sigh, not fully believing your hidden lie.

You decided to finally check your phone after multiple unanswered texts made their way to your screen. A small smile seemed to form on your face when reading all that Nat had to say, you didn’t understand how she and her family were known as the ‘devil of the town’ when she was so loving. All she ever did was care for you, she had changed from her old ways and turned into something so amazing and kind, yet it was reserved only for you.

“Yes, Nat?” You dragged out, resting your phone on the bedside table as you started to rid yourself of your clothing. You grabbed the shirt she had given you a few weeks back, it was a bit large and you loved it. You then put on a pair of boxers and turned off your lights before laying down in bed, feeling all of your tense muscles start to ease.

“I missed you, baby.” You chuckled and earned a groan on the other end of the line.

“Don’t laugh at me, my bed is so cold without you.” The rest of your two hours were spent quietly giggling and talking with the redhead before you fell into a deep sleep, being unable to hear the words whispered out of Nat’s mouth. She was content, all she ever wanted was you, even if she used horrid ways of showing it in the past.

“Why do you look so tired?” Wanda asked you the next morning when taking notice of your eye bags and occasional yawns. You turned to look at her, removing your attention from the man on the podium and locking it onto her.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You whispered. You hated lying to the woman, but you knew it would just bring more vexation if you were to tell the truth. She could tell there was more, but she held back. There was no point in pushing if she’d receive nothing in return.

The next hour dragged on painfully long with Wanda’s worries only continuing. She just wanted your attention the way she used to, yet yours was on another. Nat wasn’t good for you but she was, she just didn’t seem to understand how deep your love for her went.

“Wanda, wait.” You called out after the ceremony, watching her grab her things as she was rushing to her car. She turned to look at you, urging you to go on the closer you got to her.

“Can I talk to you? Alone?” You were surrounded by no one, seeming as most parents and their children were forced to keep conversation with the other towns folk. She didn’t speak, only giving you a curt nod before opening the back door. She came with her parents just like she had done for her entire 19 years of living. It was just easier.

She signaled for you to get in and you did, following behind her as she smoothed out her dress on the seat.

“Mom and Dad should be out soon, they won’t mind if you come over.” Her parents loved you, even taking to ask where you had been ever since the distance between you and Wanda grew. You wanted to see the woman, but it seemed as though she didn’t want to see you.

“Hey, Y/N! We were wondering where you’ve been!” Her mother cheerfully pitched with a smile that you shared. A small conversation grew between the three of you, yet the daughter stayed silenced. Even when you arrived at your destination her mouth didn’t open. It wasn’t until she opened her bedroom door for you both that she finally spoke, it felt relaxing to finally hear her voice in person again. It felt like forever since you did, even if it was only a few minutes.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” She refused to look at you, knowing it would be too hard on her.

“I think you know, Wands.” The nickname brought a saddened smile to her face that quivered, it was one full of memories and lost time.

“I know you found out months ago about my feelings for you, but I didn’t think it would ruin our friendship.” You stalked behind her, noticing the nervous twitching of the rings on her fingers. You grabbed them, interlacing your hand with hers as she released a deep breath.

“I’m not mad at you for that.” You turned her around gently so she would face you, the soft features on her face bringing a longing that you wished to fill.

“Then what is it? Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix this, so I can fix us.” You wanted her to admit the feelings she had been harboring for so long, it had been gnawing at her for months, even before she knew of your shared love.

“Please, Wanda. I love you too much to lose you.” You begged, and it nearly brought tears to the woman’s eyes. The same eyes you found yourself often lost in, just admiring her beauty that you cherished greatly.

“I’m not mad at you for liking me, I’m upset because you never did anything.” She finally spoke so quietly that you almost didn’t hear her. Even with your knowledge of her growing crush, the words still sent shivers down your spine and caused your face to falter.

“I-“

“Please don’t say anything, this is already embarrassing enough.” For a split second, you worried over the possibility of her parents barging in, but it soon faded the closer you got to Wanda. She tried to scurry out of your hold, only to feel your arms on her waist, locking her in place.

“Look at me. Please look at me, sweetheart.” She couldn’t meet your eyes without taking notice of your lips that were nearly begging to be pecked. She wanted to be the one to do so, and knowing Nat was instead only caused more jealousy to rise to the surface. Her high school bully, the woman who tormented her every move and every step, the one who sent her crying into your arms was now the one holding you; how was that fair? Every aspect of her life was taken from none other than Natasha Romanoff, now she was stealing her one true love as well, and she couldn’t let that be. She couldn’t let you kiss her, hold her, make love to her without you knowing that she could be the replacement, that she had been aching to be yours since she met you.

She didn’t understand the thoughts at the time, but that all changed when she was allowed access to the internet. She was scared to search for the reasoning, afraid her parents might catch sighting and discipline her for her curiosity. Although, the results only brought more shame than her mother or father ever could, she liked you. And not the type most friends felt for one another, the type she was supposed to feel with a man yet felt for a woman.

“I’m sorry..”

“No, no, you don’t need to apologize. Come here.” You ushered her into a hug full of warmth, but fear was hidden beneath her barriers.

When she leaned back unwillingly, the only thing her vision could take notice of was your slightly parted lips that called her name.

“I don’t know why I feel this way, but is it bad to say I like it?” While it brought pain and sadness along with harsh reality, it felt comforting whenever she was with you. She wanted your love, but she wanted more than that. She wanted your heart, your attention, yet she felt selfish for wanting it.

“No, it’s completely normal. You can’t help who you feel, Wanda, and I would never shame you for that.” You brushed her hair behind her ear, sending a warm smile that did little to stop her. She couldn’t help it now.

Her lips had a mind of their own when they met with yours, and while you wanted nothing more than to give in and bathe in her presence, you knew you couldn’t. You leaned back, causing the woman to chase after you.

“Wanda, we can’t.”

“Why not?” She forced out rather loudly. She was the one to pull you close this time, hoping and praying that you’d listen to your heart instead of your mind, she could only hope your heart was beating for her.

“You have a boyfriend-“

“I don’t love him though, I’ve been planning to break up with him but I didn’t know how.” She argued, smiling slightly when she noticed your sight landing on her own chapstick-covered lips.

“What about Nat?”

“You two aren’t together officially, you’re allowed to speak to other people.” You both knew the lie in her words, but you were both so desperately trying to believe them.

“What if you regret it?”

“I never regret anything when I’m with you.” You paused in your tracks, letting her hand rest on your cheek as she checked the door one last time.

“This is wrong-“

“Then why does it feel so right?” You couldn’t stop your mouth from pressing against hers with hunger and desire. Your thumb drew circles against her side as the tension in her muscles lowered, her brain shutting down and her lips moving according to yours.

“I love you, Y/N.” She muttered against your lips before diving back in for more.

“I love you too, Wands.” You followed, letting the two of you sit on the bed as you forced yourself to let go and dwell in the comfort of your best friend.

Later that evening when you left the home, a smile planted on your face as you waved your goodbye’s to the family, sharing a small glance with the redhead before closing the door behind you, you were immediately hit with the guilt of your actions. Nat had been texting you, begging for you to visit her due to how badly she missed you. There were at least ten messages along with three missed calls, her fears only rising as she knew you’d never leave your phone unattended.

“I love you, my beautiful girl.” Read one of her texts, and it pained you to acknowledge the fact that she knew nothing of your shared activities with the other woman.

“I love you more, Nat.” You wrote back once easing her worries, but developing more of your own. You loved both women equally. Even if Natasha had a bad past, you still loved her. And even if Wanda refused to come to terms with herself, you still loved her. How could you ever face them again knowing the truth?

Wanda thought Nat was bad, but she had no idea that the person she just spent the entire afternoon with and most of her years fawning over was even worse.

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