#like ok. you can't trigger warn everything

[hellothepixel]

I know someone for whom circuses are a trigger (i don't know if clowns exactly). Even when I was playing a mario game with their sibling, the sibling warned them so they had to look away. And I don't know the exact details, I won't lie. Maybe it's not that serious in their case.

But like. That was on my mind when I saw that fucking clown this morning.

#hellothepixel original #like ok. you can't trigger warn everything #but like. Aren't clowns like a popular enough fear to maybe consider not putting an immovable one there? #ALTERNATIVELY! does having the “clown” or “cw clown” tags blocked remove it? Because I feel that should absolutely be done #tumblr has the tag blocking system partially for this reason. Why not use it? #maybe it's already implemented #i need to test it

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Ur smut is getting soooo good. Could you do a scenario for the 141 and Konig where the fem reader rides them? Like pure fucking filth.

Only if you're OK with it!

Ahhh🙈 this is literal trash, but I hope you enjoy!! There's literally no plot to this, lol.

141 + König With Fem!Reader Riding Them

Warnings: literal smut, p in v sex, oral (m receiving) cream pie, swearing

Simon Ghost Riley-

"Bloody fucking hell." Simon groaned, his head thrown back into the pillows behind him. You were on top of him, riding him like your life depended on it.

His grip on your waist was bruising, but you were too far gone to care. He was watching you with intent, his eyes never leaving yours.

Knowing how much Simon loved to watch his cock being swallowed whole by your pussy, you leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself, and continued to move your hips up and down.

Simon nearly came right then. The change in position allowed him to hit at an angle that had you both seeing stars. You whined loudly, mouth open gasping for air, as your head was thrown back.

The sight was unlike anything Simon had ever seen. Your body was glistening with sweat, moving up and down in a set rhythm. He couldn't stop staring down at how well your pussy was taking him, and he couldn't help himself when his index finger moved on its own to start rubbing circles on your clit.

"O-Oh my God, Simon!" You were so close to your orgasm, and so was he. He could feel you clenching down on his cock. Your finger nails raked into his thighs, causing Simon to hiss.

Your movements started to get sloppy as you desperately chased your high. Simon sat up and enclosed his hand around the base of your throat, lightly putting pressure there, just enough to have you gasping.

You slowed your movements, moving in circles before your orgasm washed through you, causing your cunt to squeeze Simon's cock. He convulsed as his own orgasm hit him, his grasp tightening around your throat as his cock pulsed inside you.

You pulled away after a moment, both of you needing to catch your breath. As you started to move off him, Simon's breath hitched in his throat at the sight of cum dripping from you.

This triggered something feral in him, and he grabbed your waist throwing you underneath him. "Can't let any of this go to waste, yeah? Be a good girl and let me fuck it back in you."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"S-slown down lass." Johnny practically begged. You were bouncing up and down on his cock at a speed he couldn't catch up with.

He was trying so hard not to cum too quickly, as he wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as possible. It wasn't often you were on top in bed, but my God he was going to relish in it. Especially when you were doing so well.

You grabbed one of Johnny's hands that was gripping your waist, and brought it up to your mouth. You gave him a sultry look, before taking his index finger in your mouth, sucking lightly.

"Steamin Jesus." Johnny's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he felt his resolve slipping away quickly. He was on the verge of an orgasm, and you knew it.

You gave his finger a bite, before running your tongue along the pad of it, your eyes never leaving his. You started to move your hips in a circular motion, and Johnny's self control snapped.

He ripped his finger from your mouth, and grabbed your waist, grounding himself to pound up into you, a load grown emitting from his lips as he came inside you, painting your walls white with his cum.

You gave a soft moan, and continued to move up and down, milking his cock for everything you could, causing a whine to come from your boyfriend.

"Fucking beautiful you are. Gonna have to have you on top from now on." He breathed out, throwing his head back into the pillows. He flipped the two of you over, so that he was hovering on top of you.

"My turn now though, princess." He smirked at you before moving his head between your legs, staying there nearly the entire night.

John Price-

"Atta girl, use my cock, that's it." John cooed as you rode him in his office chair.

Your legs were tucked around his thighs, as he was sitting up right in the chair, and the angle allowed his cock to hit at deeper angles than normal.

"Feels s-so good, daddy." You cried out, your fingers making their way to John's hair and tugging the strands harshly.

John groaned and threw his face in between your tits, exhaling deeply. "Come on then, cum on my cock baby girl."

He grabbed one of your nipples in between his teeth and bit down before soothing his tongue over the sting. Your grip on his hair grew harsher, and the little mewl you let out, nearly ruined him.

He felt himself nearing the edge and wanted you right there with him. "Doing so well baby, keep using daddy's cock, go on."

You continued to bounce up and down, your tits bouncing in John's face. Your legs started to shake, thighs squeezing against his as you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly.

John felt your walls clench around him, and that was all that was needed to send him over the edge. He groaned into your flesh and bit down on your tit, hard.

You screamed out his name as your own orgasm hit you, the two of you cumming together.

"You did so good, sweetheart." He praised, giving light kisses to your tits. Your chest was beyond bruised from his marks, but neither of you could care. "Why don't you bend over on the desk. Gotta make sure I return the favor."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"Shit, you feel so good, love." Gaz cried. The two of you were currently in his gaming chair, as you were unable to wait for him to finish his game to fuck you, you took matters into your own hands.

You were seated on him with your back facing his chest, the game he was playing was long forgotten by now.

He moved his hands to your front and grabbed at your tits, kneading them softly. You moaned, throwing your head back to Gaz's shoulder. "So good, baby."

The sounds in the room were obscene. Between the chair squeaking from your movements, the soft moans from you and Gaz and the wet sounds of your pussy, the room was anything but quiet. But you fucking loved it.

You pulled yourself forward and rested your arms on Gaz's desk, and quickened your pace at the new angle.

Gaz was sputtering, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Fff-uckkk."

He raked his nails along your back, breaking the skin in some areas, causing you to squeal. "Kyle!"

You felt the coil in your belly tighten, and snap, as your orgasm tore through you.

Kyle's own orgasm wasn't far behind as he dug his nails into the flesh of your waist and gasped as he spilled himself inside you.

After taking a moment to come down from your high, you turned to look at Kyle with a smile before standing up.

"You can go back to your game now, babe." You pressed a teasing kiss to his nose as you walked away.

"Fuck the game." He turned off the console and made his way to you, moving to toss you over his shoulder.

Needless to say, neither one of you got very much sleep that night.

König-

"Maus, Scheiße." König let out a small cry as you fucked yourself stupid on his cock.

He barely had time to catch his breath, as the rhythm you set was brutal. He was laying at the edge of your bed, legs resting on the floor, as your full weight was on him.

He was in awe when you'd asked to be on top tonight, and he certainly wasn't expecting it to be this good. He was so pussy drunk he couldn't even think straight.

He sat up to look at you, and saw you rubbing your clit, your eyes closed and bottom lip tucked in between your teeth.

König groaned at the sight, moving to palm at your bouncing breasts. "I'm gonna cum, Schatz."

You nodded your head weakly, too fucked out to give a proper response. You'd been so horny for days waiting for him to be home that you'd jumped on him the minute he came home. It didn't take long for both of you to find your release within one another.

With one final move of your hips the two of you were gone. Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking out his own orgasm, as the two of you moaned loudly.

König was shaking as his orgasm left him, and captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

You gave a devilish glance to your husband before moving to get on your knees in front of him. "What are you doing, Maus?" He breathed.

"I've got to clean up my mess, don't I?" You asked as you sank your mouth down on his cock.

It didn't take long before he was cumming again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Yeah I'm still shit at smut, but I hope you guys enjoyed anyway😅🤣

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #konig x reader #konig imagine #konig mw2 #simon riley smut #ghost smut #soap smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz smut #captain price #price imagine #price smut #price x reader #soap imagine #soap x reader #soap mctavish #konig smut

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

previous |

Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03

@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin

@sofiparallel

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller angst #infidelity joel miller #joel miller au #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel x you #joel x oc #angst fic #cheater joel miller

[nrdmssgs]

Little things, they do 2 (Price, Ghost, Gaz) (headcannons)

Masterlist

Part 1 (Alex, Soap, König) here

Little things, they do, that get you every time. Silly, warm, heart-melting, wholesome things.

Captain John Price

Knuckle kisses. That's it.

Praises you not only when you succeed, but also when you fail. “I know, you tried so hard, love. This doesn't make you lesser. You don't have to prove anything to me. I'm proud of you. You're enough.”

Compliments you at the most random times. You've just woken up with an absolute mess on your head, or you walk around the house in old faded sweatpants and a dirty T-shirt because the rest of the clothes are being washed? John takes your hand, brings it to his lips and whispers "You are incredibly beautiful." or “How did an old git like me ended up with the most gorgeous, hottest  human being out there?”

He has this habit of going behind your back and leaning close to your very ear while telling you something. Maybe he just likes to feel you close and uses it as an excuse, maybe he wants to “envelop” you in a way, hide you from the whole world, sharing his knowledge, feeling, how interested you are in a topic.

One of those people to actually use paper and envelopes, that some hotel still provide their rooms with. You get these long 3-5 page letters from different corners of earth every now and then. They can be absolutely platonic - he can literally describe, what he's seen or overheard on the streets lately or rant about how he wants to hear seabirds voices, but they are interrupted by the unceasing roar of engines and roadworks here… But you see it: every line screams “I love you. I freaking love you so much, it's almost 4 am here, and I'm still wide awake, because I need to write to you, to communicate in any way that will be safe for you.” 

Simon Ghost Riley

He is no stranger to triggered stress or panic. So if you have any phobia, and he finds out about it - he starts protecting you from its triggers. Let's say, you're scared of spiders and scorpions. Even a picture of one can absolutely freak you out. Simon goes above and beyond to shield you from any type of appearance of these creatures in your life. In summer, he'll escort and even tiniest spider out of your apartment, before you see it.

He even shares a googledoc with trigger warning time codes for every piece of media, you wanted to see. Even if it's a long series - he just checks every episode of it on a fast rewind and writes you, if it's fully safe to watch or not. 

Ghost has a wealth of experience in dealing with insomnia and is willing to help you, if you come across this issue. Just don't hesitate to ask - he is ready to spend all the night helping you out. Will definitely start with pressing your back to his chest and guiding you through a breathing exercise.

If you had a bad day and dropped him a message - he`d surely call you as soon as he can to talk you through everything that happened and soothe you. 

“I`m always there for you, you know?” “I know, Simon…” “No, thats not the way, we do that.” “...” “Come on. Say it.” “I remember, ok?” “Say. it. I need you say it out loud.” “You are always there for me, no matter what.” “And?” “... and I can call or text you any time and you'll reach back asap.” “Good job. I'll call you again before you go to sleep.”

Despite his ascetic way of life, he likes nice things and gradually accustoms you to the same preferences. 

It all starts with tea. One day, you go grocery shopping together. You walk between the rows of shelves while Simon stays by your cart. Returning to the cart, you find him skeptically examining the box of tea you dropped into the cart earlier. "What is this?" "It's tea, Simon, stop pretending you can't read." Ghosts gaze eloquently demonstrates his attitude towards this product. "It's trash." He pulls out a simple but elegant box from the top shelf. "This is tea." You try to convince him that with the money spent on that "good" box, you could drink tea all year, but he is relentless. Simon ends up buying the tea himself and brewing it at your place. When you first try it and roll your eyes in pleasure - he smiles contentedly. “Told you.”

Kyle Gaz Garrick

“Babe this is delicious, wanna try it?” - say yes and firstly he will kiss you. You absolutely need to try that ice cream, his tongue is just a nice bonus. Ofc shares his food with you afterward.

One of the most supportive human beings out there. Encourages every your hobby, hella proud of you and not shy to demonstrate it. “Have you heard her singing? RNs got a voice of a songbird!” “Kyle, please, I just went to a few vocal lessons and learned like… 2 songs.” “Those are my favorite ones from now on, love.”

If you work from home, he'll walk into your room randomly (but only when he is 100% sure, you're not on the call), sit beside you and just stare silently at you. Ask him, what's up, and he'll give you a quick kiss on the forehead and walk away grinning. 

Slow dances with you on streets, when you two pass by street musicians. Doesn't care if everybody looking, even if someone pulls out a phone and starts filming this wholesome scene. It's only you in Kyles hands, that matter right now to him. 

If you have a pet - he definitely becomes its new dad. When Kyle is around - your four-legged friend absolutely forgets about your existence, because Gaz is an expert in best scratches!

By the way, your pets birthday is now Kyles official holiday!

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod headcanons #141 headcanons #captain price #captain john price #cod price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost simon riley #kyle garrick #gaz mw2 #cod gaz #gaz x you #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

[writing-house-of-m]

Till death do us part.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, and some Angst

Warnings: Talks of death, blood and vomiting.

Word count: 7179

Summary: It was a joint decision between you and Wanda wanting to raise your family together full time. There is just one last mission before you retire.

A/N: Who do I think I am, posting three weeks in a row 😂 This one has been a long time coming. I was given the prompt (a long time ago) “She wakes to the sound of you dying.” by @cuinaminute229 - I finally completed it mate! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think 😊

The three of you are running through the halls. You don't know how but an alarm was triggered and now you want to make it out of the building before a fight starts.

Too late.

Turning the next corner you are met with five guards all equipped to take you down.

This is not what you wanted.

The plan was so meticulously thought out, you allowed yourself to be optimistic, that this mission could be done without a hitch, but you should have known. Better to keep expectations low, right?

You can only hope they haven't found out about the support you have outside the building.

Tony, Sam, Vision and Wanda.

Two days ago

"Y/l/n, you're with Rogers and Romanoff."

You look up from the file on the table in front of you to the man holding the meeting feeling slightly perplexed.

"But sir, I'm normally partnered with Wanda because of how well we work together," you blurt out, before you can stop yourself.

"I know, but we need Wanda outside where her powers will be useful while the three of you get the job done inside," the man with the eyepatch clarifies.

You grimace slightly and it doesn't go unnoticed by Fury. So he continues, "I know you like spending time with your wife, agent, but you will have to spend a few hours away from each other this time," he finishes, getting a few chuckles from around the table.

You smile and nod your head to show you have acknowledged him. It is not your fault, you can't help but worry about your wife.

"How about Pietro? Where is he? He'd be perfect for this with his speed," you try to reason.

Fury is still smirking from his previous joke and keeps it going for his audience like this meeting is his very own stand-up comedy set, "Throwing the brother-in-law under the bus isn't going to work," causing another round of chuckles. "His skills are being used elsewhere," he finally clarifies.

Wanda notices your reluctance next to you. She takes your hand from the file to hold in her lap under the table for the rest of the meeting. The weight of her hand and the occasional squeeze she gives it brings you a semblance of calm.

After the meeting is over and everyone leaves to get prepped for the upcoming mission, Wanda speaks to you to reassure that everything will be ok. She has a soft smile on her face, "We've been apart in missions before, we'll get it done and be on our way home in no time."

Her hand still hasn't left yours since she took it earlier. You take a step forward leaning your forehead against hers while taking her other hand in yours, "I can't help but worry, it feels different this time."

You know she can take care of herself but you didn't want to be anywhere that wasn't by her side right now. This mission feels as though it has come at the worst time.

Present day

Taking out the five guards was easy work for the three of you.

Turns out they were just a warm up.

When you make it outside, you see Tony disarming someone who had a missile launcher aimed in Vision's direction. Vision throws two guys into the air that Sam finishes off as he flies past and Wanda, you can't see her, but you can see the red tendrils of her powers meaning she too, was engaged in combat.

After your quick assessment of the area the three of you spring back into action.

The base is in the middle of a forest deep underground. It's the reason the plans were so detailed, Hydra would have seen you coming from a mile away.

Hiding and manoeuvring behind and around trees you do what you are best at - taking down the enemy.

With Natasha by your side, watching each other's backs, you take down a few soldiers next to what looks like a turret. It is shooting out energy blasts to try and knock you unconscious so you can then be taken as prisoners. Once the area is clear you take over the controls using it to take out a similar one on the opposite side of the battlefield.

The machine makes it easy to take down bad guys while you do your best to avoid your teammates. For you this is just another 'day at the office' so your mind drifts to your home life.

Three months ago

Stirring awake you rub the sleep from your eyes. The warmth from your two bodies encased by your covers provide you with enough comfort to make you want to fall back into slumber.

You are about to nod off again when her soft whisper brings you back to reality, "You better not be going back to sleep," Wanda says, her warm breath that smells of toothpaste fans over your face making you smile silly.

"Of course not love," you lie, "I was just thinking about all the things you needed me to do around the house."

You hear her chuckle, "Oh, I'm sure you were." She pushes your shoulder so that you roll on to your back. Wanda presses most of her weight on top of you, stroking your cheek.

With your eyes still closed she places a few soft kisses along your neck and jaw. "Hmm...I could get used to this," you crack open one eye slightly, "but you missed a spot," you say, pointing to your lips.

"Uh uh, not until you've brushed your teeth, Morning Breath," Wanda says, slapping your chest once, causing you to whine as you stretch a little.

Wanda is always the one to wake up first. Usually she will get a head start on anything needed for the day. But considering it is a weekend she has chosen to come back into bed and allow herself a morning to lounge around.

Now, with both your eyes open, you move one of your hands that was resting on her waist to her cheek and look at her freshly washed morning face.

"Good morning," you finally say, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. Despite her 'morning breath' statement she gives you a peck on the lips and returns the greeting.

The two of you have been home for two weeks. No missions. No dire need of your presence required at the compound. Just you, Wanda an-

You hear the patter of small feet and a few knocks on the door signalling the end of your peace this morning.

Having had the luxury of experiencing it more than a few times these past weeks, you know how this is going to go.

"So, what's our play this time?" You whisper to her.

"I like the one where we pretend to be asleep," she whispers back. Being quiet is detrimental so the two, soon to be, intruders are none the wiser.

You take your positions, relaxed bodies, closed eyes, waiting for the unavoidable moment when they can't help themselves and try to sneak into the room.

The sound of a soft click, notifies you the door has been opened, along with hushed tones of, "Shh, be quiet!" You admire their efforts, they are still new recruits in covert operations after all.

When they are close enough the two of you sit up, arms raised with a loud, "AHHHH!" They both let out high pitched shrieks while the two of you can't help but laugh, giving each other a high five, Wanda giggling as she leans against you.

Tommy is the first to speak, "That wasn't funny!" Followed by Billy, "You do this every time," they groan.

You and Wanda are still giggling as the boys climb onto the bed. "That's what you get for trying to sneak in here," you say triumphantly, "when will you ever learn, huh?" You question as they get comfortable between you both.

Wanda can't help but wonder, "Why are you two always awake so early on the weekends?" The boys look at each other while you sit and watch the interaction in awe as she continues, "I struggle to get you out of bed on school mornings."

They turn back to their mother and shrug, "Weekends mean more time for fun," Tommy responds. The boy, always ready with a quick quip.

Wanda gasps as she moves forward, "Why you little-" she says, tickling him.

Tommy begins to laugh while you and Billy giggle as if you're watching a show play out in front of you.

Once everyone settles back down your stomach rumbles, starting off another round of laughter.

"Ok, ok, I think that's the signal for us all to get washed up and get some breakfast sorted," you instruct.

Just like clockwork, Wanda makes her way to the kitchen while you try and get the boys to cooperate.

After a little bit of a struggle to wrangle the energetic boys together you get them to complete their morning routine.

Before you head down, you check to make sure they are done with what they were told and eventually, you make it downstairs disturbing Wanda's peace.

When you arrive in the kitchen, Wanda smiles over her shoulder at you. Kissing her on the cheek, you take over flipping pancakes so she can finish getting morning beverages sorted.

The boys bicker about their toys as they wait in their seats for their pancakes. You and Wanda sit, passing plates around and help with any fruits they want.

You can't help but feel content at the quiet, the only sounds in the room coming from cutlery hitting plates as well as the occasional competitive comment from the boys about who can finish eating first. This is what your life is and you love every second of it.

Both you and Wanda are in agreement, you couldn't be happier with the way your lives have turned out.

These weeks have only solidified yours and Wanda's plans; officially retiring from the Avengers.

Present day

The fight feels never-ending. Bad guys showing up left and right. You can't afford to think about your fatigue, a distraction could mean the difference between life and death.

You feel something rush past you and the three guys you are shielding yourself from behind a sandbag wall are knocked to the floor.

Vibrations travelling through the floor from a loud roar signals Banner is also here, making you smile with relief. You are thankful some backup has arrived.

"What? You didn't see that coming?" The speedster says, putting his hand out for you to take so you can get off the ground. "And where's my thank you?"

"For taking so long? You know, for a speedster, you're pretty slow," you joke back to Pietro.

He laughs lightly before speeding off, "Try to keep up in-law!" The gray haired man taunts.

…

The battle seems to be coming to an end, only a few brave soldiers on the opposing side are still trying their best even if they are losing.

You take in your surroundings and deem the area you are in as clear before making your way to find Wanda. You follow her powers like a beacon to get to her.

Seeing her take out an enemy brings a proud smile to your face. You can see she is exhausted but will always fight till her last breath.

Feeling your presence, she turns to you after taking down a final soldier. She smiles at you tiredly as you make your way to her.

"I'm sorry honey, I wanted to get to you sooner to show you I was okay, but I was a little busy," you say when you reach her, hands cupping her cheeks, rubbing them and feeling her relax a little in your presence.

"Don't worry malysh, I knew you were here," she rests her face in the crook of your neck inhaling, "I could feel you." The vibrations of her voice against you make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge.

You take a short moment for yourselves, before you meet with the rest of the team gathered in one place as you usually do once the fight is over.

Making your way, everyone checks the bodies they pass on the floor to make sure they are fully knocked out, ready to be detained. The clean up crew will be here soon.

Walking towards where the rest of the team is, you notice you are the last to arrive. The team all gathers and you relax a little by one of the sandbag walls beginning small chit-chat. You allow Wanda to fully press her back against your front as you lean against the wall, anything to help with the tiredness she is feeling.

Bruce confirms a silent alarm was triggered when you, Steve and Natasha got to the targeted archive room.

All that mattered now was that the mission was complete, with no major casualties.

Wanda is now leaning heavily on you so you keep your arms wrapped securely around her to keep her upright.

As SHIELD agents start to appear they begin their part of the process so your team begins their trek in the direction of the quinjets.

Still feeling a little tired, you wait back with your wife, who is now sitting on top of the wall, to allow her a little more time to replenish some energy. When she is ready she takes your hand leaning into you again after you help her down.

"When we get back I'm running you a nice hot bath," you say into her hair.

Wanda moves her head to make eye contact with you, "I hope you're taking this bath with me," she smiles.

"Like I'd have it any other way," you shake your head, smiling back at her, chuckling.

As you look ahead of you while you walk, you hear something and see some movement from the corner of your eye.

In that moment everything feels as if it moves in slow motion.

You see an enemy soldier laying on the ground. Their arm sluggishly moves, taking something from their belt and pulling the pin. Your eyes widen as you turn to Wanda, pushing her away behind another wall you are passing.

It all happens so fast.

The grenade flying through the air in your direction, followed by a loud explosion of heat.

Your body flies backwards, hitting a tree.

Hard.

In the last seconds of your consciousness pain radiates through your body but all you can think about is if Wanda was out of the blast radius.

One month ago

You seem to be spending more and more time at home now that the Avengers have recruited more help, one of them being Natasha's sister who you were surprised to learn about.

There has been a steady flow of smaller missions where you then get to spend a full week at home. It has been a good time to be able to get a schedule into place. Creating a normal home life for Billy and Tommy.

As you put the boys to bed you hear Wanda in the bathroom throwing up everything from dinner for the third night in a row.

Even though she tells you it must be a bug and that it will pass soon, you feel worried.

-

The next day arrives and you take Billy and Tommy to school on your own for the second time this week when Wanda said she wasn't feeling too good this morning.

She hasn't been able to keep much down, first it was some dinners but the previous day she didn't keep anything down at all.

By the time you get back you hear her in the bathroom emptying the contents of her stomach once again.

You have been kneeling next to her rubbing her back trying to help her through this as much as you can. When she seems to be done, she sits to the side and you help her lean against the wall then take a seat in front of her.

"Three days in a row can't be a coincidence, my love," You think you might know what is causing this but-

"It's too soon, right?" She finishes your thought out loud, "I know I'm late but I thought that was from the stress of everything going on. It took months with Billy and Tommy."

"Either way, I've already made an appointment with Dr Cortez," you can't help the panicked look on your face. Wanda thinks it's admirable so she smiles at you.

"And when did you make this appointment?" Wanda asks, raising her eyebrows, "Also, when is it?"

You smile sheepishly at getting caught. "I called yesterday, she had a cancellation for this afternoon," Wanda shakes her head amused. She puts out her hand to show she is ready to get up so you help her to her feet and don't let go until you see she is steady.

Wanda wraps her arms around you and presses the side of her face into your chest, "Have I told you how much I love you?"

You kiss the top of her head murmuring into her hair, "No, not today you haven't," you scoff slightly.

She lifts her head to look at you with her chin now resting against you. You try not to make a face but you do. You know you have been caught from seeing Wanda's expression changing so you say something before she can, "If you think you're going to kiss me with your vomit breath, you've got another thing coming."

Wanda moves away and looks at you in the mirror as she reaches for her toothbrush, "What ever happened to 'in sickness and in health'?"

"Oh, I can still love you in sickness, it doesn't mean I have to kiss you," your response is a little too quick for Wanda's liking. "Besides I still remember you calling me 'morning breath', it's only fair I return the favour now," you finish with a cheeky smile meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"Not one for holding on to the past I see," Wanda muffles past the foamy toothpaste in her mouth sarcastically. While you just smile at her comment.

-

When you make it to your appointment, Dr Cortez takes some samples and instructs you to await her call.

You are done in time for the school run so the two of you pick the boys up and treat them to pizza for dinner.

Wanda's sickness still hasn't lightened up, you are glad she suggested the safe choice of a soup instead of the greasy food so you had picked that up too.

She ends up bringing up her dinner and instead of hovering around her you keep the boys busy with deciding on a movie to watch because they are done with their homework. The last thing you want is them to notice and be concerned for their mother's health.

Once you have them settled you go to check on Wanda. As you get to her she is already leaving the bathroom with a tired expression on her face.

You take her in your arms and comfort her. It's the only thing you can really do. Wanda wraps her arms around you leaning against heavily into your side as you make your way to the living room.

Once you make it to the couch, as always the boys are situated in the middle. You help Wanda sit on one side while you move to sit on the other side.

This is how you spend most evenings, cuddled up relaxing. This time the choice of movie is lost on you because all you can think about is Wanda and what could come from the test results.

You don't notice Wanda looking in your direction. She moves her arm to the back cushions stretching over to run her fingers through the back of your hair, "Your thoughts are loud, honey," she keeps her voice low so the boys don’t divert their attention from the television, before you look over.

"I'm sorry, I jus-"

She is smiling softly when she interrupts you. "I know, but please don't worry. We don't know anything yet," she continues speaking quietly.

Your gazes are pulled away by a small voice coming from between you. "Are you sick mommy?" You see Billy looking in Wanda's direction as Tommy pulls his eyes away from the screen.

Kids are always more perceptive than you realise.

"I have been feeling sick, yes Billy," Wanda answers truthfully.

This time Tommy speaks with a follow up question, "But you're gonna be okay. Aren't you?"

"She's gonna be fine," you reply, for her. "We went to see the doctor today, we just need to wait and see what they say."

Present day

Placing her hand to her pounding head Wanda tries to get past the ringing in her ears. When she stops feeling nauseous she looks around her immediate vicinity. She begins to panic when she doesn't see you.

Wanda was only unconscious for a moment and now that her mind has cleared a little she realises can't feel you as strongly as before. It is as if you are fading. Her mind concludes that she has awoken to the sound of you dying when she hears you wheezing, making her panic grow.

There is dust and debris everywhere and Wanda does her best to look through it trying to find you. She feels a breeze pass her and in the next second Pietro is in front of her, "Sestra, what happ-"

"Where's Y/n?!" Wanda exasperates, her worry overwhelming because she can only just about feel your presence.

Pietro helps her scramble to her feet as they both look around. Wanda walks in the direction she thinks you will be while Pietro trails behind her, looking around to make sure they are safe.

"No, no, no, no," she panics, seeing your boots a few feet away.

As she gets closer Wanda can hear you coughing and your wheezing gets louder. In her mind it is as if your light is dying out.

No.

She can't lose you.

You can't die.

One month ago

The movie still playing in the background is long forgotten.

You and Wanda continue to tell the kids not to worry and you should hear from the doctor soon.

As if he has an epiphany Billy asks, "Could it be a baby?" This gets Tommy perking up too.

You can't help but be curious how he got to that conclusion, "What makes you ask that?"

Billy responds like it's obvious, "You and mommy were talking about having another baby."

Tommy seems to have picked up how Billy got the idea, "Yeah, and we saw something on TV where someone said she was pregnant and that's why she was being sick."

You and Wanda glance at each other for a quick second, smiling at how smart they have gotten. Kids really are more perceptive than you give them credit for.

"We're not sure yet. That's why we went to see the doctor," you respond.

They still have questions. So Tommy asks, "But why did you go to a doctor, can't you check at home?"

"You check on a stick or something like that?" Billy adds.

"This sickness has been different from last time and it's come on quicker than when your mommy was carrying the two of you," you explain to the two boys listening intently.

"We were more prepared and it took a lot longer for you two to turn up," Wanda smiles, tapping Billy's nose making him smile. "And because this sickness is a little different, we thought it would be best to go see Dr Cortez. She said we will find out soon enough," Wanda finishes.

The boys ask more questions and you do your best to answer them. Eventually the conversation dwindles and you notice how late it has gotten. So you announce it is time for bed.

When you lay facing each other, you reassure Wanda, "Whatever this is, we'll get through it together."

You seal your promise with a kiss and hold Wanda until she sleeps. It takes you a little while longer, every bad scenario playing in your head regarding these test results.

Considering your track record of losing loved ones, your mother to leukaemia, your father to an aneurysm and your sister in battle, you don't like your odds. 

Your stomach is in knots, something in your chest feels heavy while your eyes burn. You hope that these test results come quickly and not at all at the same time. You are not ready to lose the love of your life.

Present day

You can just about hear the footsteps closing in on you as you cough out the dryness in your mouth. But you don't care, you just want to go back to your dream. The memory of your family on the couch watching a movie. Talking to each other about funny parts.

As the frantic steps get closer, you close your eyes, ready to be finished off. You think of your boys and of Wanda, sorry that you won't be able to see them again.

"Malysh!"

You swear you hear someone voice you recognise.

"Y/n!" A different voice shouts.

At least you think you recognise them. It is hard to tell with it sounding like you are underwater.

You can barely feel it but cold hands meet your cheeks, rubbing your skin. So that's who it is. Wanda rests your head in her lap as your hand makes its way to hers resting on your face.

Quickly catching up and remembering where you are, relief fills you when you see her, "Wanda," you smile tiredly. "You're okay."

"I thought I had lost you," Wanda sighs. "I saw you lying here, I thought…"

"No, no. I'm okay," you wheeze out.

"Try not to talk, okay? You need to save your energy," she says with tears filling her eyes.

The back of your head is covered in blood. Dust and mud is mixed all over your face and uniform.

You soon realise you are not actually okay. You know what is going to happen, how this is going to end. You can already feel life slipping away from your body.

Pietro is trying to reach someone through his earpiece but it seems to not be working.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," you begin quietly, your voice breaking as tears fall from your eyes.

"Stop… please don't talk like that," your wife begs you. She turns to Pietro and hurriedly tells him to get some medics and a stretcher to your location as fast as he can.

"Wanda, please look at me," you request, before the speedster disappears.

As always you are captivated by her green eyes that the forest surrounding you could never compare to. "Tell the boys I love them," your hand moves to rest on her stomach, "the baby too."

Wanda shakes her head not wanting to accept this was your end as you continue, "God, I hope they get your eyes."

One month ago

The day after your discussion with Billy and Tommy everything is normal, well as normal as the past week has been.

Wanda is forced to stay home because of her sickness while you take care of the boys then take them to school afterwards.

On your return you help Wanda however you can and get her to sit down to relax for most of the day, making sure she takes it easy.

To distract Wanda and even yourself you discuss a variety of things, from; getting things finalised with Fury - he says you will be needed for a little longer while they get the newcomers trained, he promises no big missions are in the near future, to; Billy and Tommy's progress at school.

It isn't until early afternoon that Wanda's phone rings.

She looks at you after she reads the caller ID on her screen, she finds you already looking in her direction.

You turn off the television as Wanda puts down her book to answer the call, picking up the device from the coffee table in front of you.

The look on your wife's face is undecipherable as she responds with short answers and verbal nods. You can't tell if she looks panicked, excited or nervous, maybe a mixture of everything.

A new appointment is set up which makes your stomach flip. Before you can say anything she thanks the doctor and hangs up.

Wanda takes in the apprehensive look you have on but a smile spreads over her face, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Wasting no time she reveals, "I'm pregnant."

Your eyes grow wide as your tense muscles relax. The smile on your face now mimics Wanda's wide one. You lunge forward kissing Wanda wrapping your arms around each other. You celebrate with teary smiles, hugs and kisses. Words of not believing this is real take over as you place your hands on her stomach.

"You're pregnant," you whisper into the quiet room, the smile never leaving your face as a happy tear falls from your eye.

She puts her hands over yours, "We sure are."

-

When you arrive home with Tommy and Billy after collecting them from school you share the news. You sit them down and tell them this is a little family secret. They couldn't tell anyone, not yet.

You were probably being a little too cautious but you didn't want to jinx it. It was an easy agreement between you and Wanda to not let anyone know until at least three months into the pregnancy.

Present day

"Well, I hope they get your beautiful eyes," Wanda responds, "we'll see who wins in seven months, okay?"

You breathe out a pained laugh, "You're really gonna fight me on this, right now?"

Your eyes are barely open but grow heavier as your blinking becomes slower. Wanda looks up to see if help is on its way.

As she looks around you take in all of her features. The beauty marks dotted around her face, laugh lines you are proud to be the reason for helping make, her soft skin you like to trace in the mornings. Especially the mornings you wake up before her.

You feel colder and the weight of Wanda's hand in yours is no longer there. The end is near so you take in as much as you can before you say your final words.

Reaching up, you stroke her face with your finger, you hope you are not pressing too hard, "I love you. Always remember that."

When she looks at you, you continue, "You don't have to do it all by yourself-"

"Stop that. I'm not losing you," she desperately cuts you off.

It doesn't deter you from saying what is on your mind. "You have Pietro and Nat. Even Clint is always giving his advice even when we don't ask for it," you laugh getting a small smile from her until you fall into a coughing fit with blood spluttering from your mouth.

Once it subsides she looks at you with her eyebrows cinched, "I'm not losing you," she says firmly and slowly. "I can't lose you."

"You'll never lose me, I'll always be with you," you say, putting your hand to her chest. "Always." A tear makes its way down the side of your face.

You know you don't have much longer. There is not enough time but you feel like you have so much you want to say.

Your eyes begin to droop close, "No, I can't lose you," you just about hear. Your ears feel cloudy, just like your vision. You try to tell her again how you love her, your voice but a whisper using the last bit of energy you have to say it one more time, "I… lov-" with all your energy dispelled you don't stay awake long enough to finish your sentence as your consciousness fades into darkness.

One week later

There is a small smile on Wanda's face as she dreams of you and the boys - it is you laughing with them. Well, you are laughing at your own jokes and the boys giving you a weird look because they don't understand the punchlines. Instead of explaining you chase them around the room jokingly chastising them for not understanding them.

She loves to observe moments like this in your daily life, appreciating having a family of her own. A dream that had to be dropped after she joined Hydra. For a long time she didn’t think she would find her place in the world. Be at peace. But she found it with you.

Her limbs are stiff in her uncomfortable position on the chair she fell asleep in. Night after night of sleeping in an awkward position has not done well for her aching body.

Shortly after you fell unconscious, Pietro returned with Natasha and transportation to get you both out of there. Wanda didn’t let anyone else handle you, afraid they would jostle you too much so she used her powers to levitate you to the stretcher which she then moved to the truck where the medics hurried to look you over. There was no way she could risk losing you if she hadn't already.

If Pietro wasn't there she would have hit the ground as she collapsed, her fatigue catching up with her. She was checked over and apart from a few cuts and bruises she was deemed fine.

No one knew to check the baby.

Something stirs her awake, as usual she hears the sounds of the machines around the private room and footsteps walking up and down the corridor behind her. This time however there is a new sound, not new exactly but it’s you, laughing.

Once Wanda’s confusion subsides she realises your laugh isn’t a lingering sound from her dream. It’s real. Her eyes finally focus enough on you laughing because of something Sam said who is standing beside you on the opposite side of the bed.

The sound is interrupted with you coughing in pain holding your ribs, “You’re the one that needs to stop making me laugh, Wilson.” It is enough to get Wanda to sit upright, the other man in the room, Bucky, catching her movements first out of the three of you.

“You’re awake,” Wanda rushes from her seat to sit beside you, carefully wrapping her arms around you and pressing her face in the crook of your neck, “I was so worried.” She can’t help but let a few tears fall, which you feel soaking into your hospital gown.

After checking you over the nurse was going to wake Wanda but you stopped her, wanting to let her rest. When the nurse was exiting the room she found the men lingering outside your door until she was done for their daily visit.

You whisper reassurances to Wanda, that you are okay and explain that Bucky, Steve and Sam were the closest to the room when you woke up.

Steve left after a few minutes because he was needed elsewhere - training duty with potential new Avengers. He expressed his relief saying he was glad you were okay before hugging you then leaving shortly after.

Bucky taps Sam on the shoulder, signalling to the door to give the two of you some privacy.

"I didn’t mean to wake you, love,” you say as Wanda pulls away, wiping her tears. She takes your face into her hands, “Sam was telling me to - 'Stop laughing, your wife will kill me if she wakes up hearing you in pain'," you mimic Sam as best as you can.

Wanda scoffs and shakes her head at your antics. She looks at you, really looks at you as if assessing you. You look tired, the bruises and cuts that litter your face, arms and peaking out from your robe not helping.

You cup her cheek, tracing a fading cut there as you get her to meet your eye line, “I’m okay,” you promise her, then move your arms around Wanda as tight as you can. You power through, your aching body not liking the movement of your limbs even if the feeling has been dulled down due to the pain medication running through your veins from the bag attached to your arm. 

Wanda can’t help but voice the deepest fear she has had this past week, "I thought I was gonna lose you." Your eyes well up because of her shaky tone.

"I know, I'm sorry," you pull back, "I'm sorry. I thought that was it, I was so worried. I had to tell you whatever I could." You look into her eyes, the ones you will be able to continue waking up to, thankful you still get to live your life with her.

Putting your hand on her stomach, you swallow the lump in your throat in fear of the answer you were about to receive, "Did you get checked out? Bucky and Sam didn’t mention anything about the baby."

When Wanda awoke the following day after the mission, she was told she was healthy. It hit her all at once about them not knowing to check the life growing inside her.

She places a hand over yours, with tears in her red rimmed eyes thinking about the worry she went through. First the possibility of losing you, then maybe losing the new part of you she had left.

“Natasha was there when I woke up, she found a doctor so fast when I told her,” Wanda recalls, remembering the sheer urgency she showed to find someone. Natasha all but dragged a doctor into the room to make them check Wanda.

"They did a sonogram," she trails off. You look at Wanda with regret in your eyes for not being there, "I got to see this little one for the first time," she says looking down to her stomach then back at you smiling, "they confirmed, everything is fine."

You sigh in relief, holding her hands between you, "I wish I was there to see and hear their heartbeat with you."

Wanda rubs the back of your hand with her thumb, "Would you like to see?" You respond by nodding your head. Wanda checks the pocket of the hoodie she is wearing and when it is empty she sees the small square photo paper on the chair she has been calling a bed.

Reaching over she grabs the photo that is face down and sits next to you after you scoot over making space for her, "We've got a strong one here," she says holding the image from the sonogram. You rest your head against Wanda's shoulder as you take in the blur of a baby in the picture.

You take a deep breath and smile at your wife. "We need to get that retirement sorted, huh?" You half joke, “This little peanut needs to stay safe, we can’t risk something like this happening again.”

Wanda agrees but senses your worry when you place a hand back onto her stomach, looking at it as if you can see the baby. “The doctors checked everything. Twice over, malysh,” she adds to reassure you. “She’s fine.”

Your head snaps up so fast, a small smile taking over Wanda's face, looking down for a second and scrunching her nose when she realises what she has just let slip. You can’t help the happy tears that well in your eyes, “A girl?”

Wanda replies with a nod, smiling tearily, “The doctor thought I already knew.” You move forward and kiss Wanda as much as your body will let you.

A little girl. She will be the one to complete your family.

After a few moments of silence basking in each other's presence, your forehead leaning against hers, you break it, "I would never have forgiven myself if I died."

Wanda scoffs at your comment effectively breaking you apart, "You wouldn't have forgiven you?! I wouldn't have forgiven you!" You chuckle at her comment.

You take both her hands in yours letting out a breath, “So Nat knows about the baby?” You ask in a whisper and Wanda hums in response. "And who knows about the retirement plan?"

"Just Nat,” Wanda replies.

“We are never going to be able to keep anything from her, are we?" You joke, making Wanda giggle.

"Erm, of course you’re not," Natasha says, walking into the room. "You two are always so obvious when you're hiding something. Though, I will admit,” Natasha pauses as she places her hand on your shoulder when she reaches your side, “I was surprised by the news of the baby." The three of you share a smile before she continues, "How are you feeling?"

"Alive." You smile gratefully, looking at Wanda then back at Natasha, "I hear I have you to thank."

"I'm sure Sam exaggerated but yes. Please send your praises my way," she muses, smiling back at you, taking a step back.

“He did mention something about you bulldozing a few trees to get to me,” you remark.

This gets the three of you to chuckle. When the joke passes Natasha asks, "You up for some visitors?"

As if on queue Billy and Tommy enter the room with Pietro following them. They run up to the bed and practically jump on you.

"Careful boys!" Wanda warns from next to you. They reply, sheepishly in unison, "Sorry mom."

Your chest fills with warmth as you push their hair back while looking at them, "It's okay," you look to Wanda before saying, "I'm okay," with an emotional smile.

Both boys start rambling on about all the cool things they have been doing with Uncle Pietro; playing games, eating junk food and something about being able to jump higher on the trampoline because uncle Pietro can use his superspeed to help. On top of that, how fun it has been having 'Aunty' Monica over too.

"So, not one nutritional meal this week, I'll take it?" You look at Pietro with a raised eyebrow. Then continue with a sarcastic remark, "And I see you've been showing the kids how to be responsible with powers?"

There is a beat of silence as everyone's attention turns to Pietro.

"The candy was fruit flavored!" He exasperates. The boys nod at his statement as Natasha stands to the side with her arms crossed, chuckling while you smile at the scene.

Pietro is about to continue but gets cut off by Wanda with an unimpressed glare, "Let's not forget this extra house guest I wasn't aware of."

"I needed the adult company…?" He shrugs unsurely.

It gets chaotic with Wanda telling Pietro off, the boys trying to defend him and Natasha standing on the side laughing at the whole thing. Even with the pain you can feel you can't stop yourself from laughing too.

Eventually your laughs stop and with a smile on your face, you take in the moment.

You wouldn't have it any other way. This is your family. Your small and silly little family.

You are glad to be able to live another day.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff marvel #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda fluff #fluff #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch fanfic #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch fluff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda angst #angst #scarlet witch angst #marvel fanfic #marvel #mcu reader insert #self insert fanfiction #fic #till death do us part tag

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Drunk confession

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Format: Drabble

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, Crying, Sobbing, Drunk problems

Word Count: 2K

A/n: Wanted to write one only for Dazai but I couldn't help myself and now here we are :)

↳Osamu Dazai

It's two in the morning and Dazai can't sleep as always, filling these hours of loneliness with reading his manual of suicide over and over, waiting for the rays of the sun to peek through the curtains and set another day of his tedious life. Dazai is at his dorm alone and he scarcely has any guests over; which is why the articulate knocks on the door catches him off guard. He glances at the clock and approaches the door as possibilities cloud his mind. What's going on? Did something happened? Maybe the guild has attacked again? Or that rat Dostoevsky has made a move to play his schemes on Yokohama's ability users? Or...

When he opens the door, he expects Kunikida, Atsushi or perhaps a member of an enemy organization ready to kidnap him or pull the trigger right in front of his face; but behind the door It's just you, cheeks red from what he assumes is the effect of alcohol he can smell from ten miles away.

He stares at you, with a curious turning into calming look on his face before asking you to what does he own the honor of meeting you at this fine hour, but the answer he receives isn't verbal; it's a sudden attack of affection coming from a embrace taking his waist imprison. An embrace that was supposed to be tight but you're too zoned out to keep yourself on your feet let alone hugging the shit out of him.

"Y/n...?"

"Shhhhhhhhh~"

His heart can't stop slamming itself to his chest and he's almost happy that he doesn't have to hide his flustered face because you probably won't remember anything in the morning; but you're still hanging in his arms, face all grumpy and eyes half-lidded while not giving in to the comforting warmth of his embrace lulling you to sleep.

"Yooou bas...tard... ugh!"

It's ok. He has heard that from many people before, but you can't be here only to insult him and leave, right?

"Y/n? What-"

"Shut up! You annoying peace of work!"

He's wrong. That is the reason why you're here for.

...Partly.

"I'm here to... kick your ass! For all the trouble you've put me through!"

"Y/n stop shouting and calm down. What are you talking about?"

"You... You don't even know! You damned bastard! Stupid bandage wasting machine! You never let me get to work! I can't work with you! I'm... I'm quitting my job at the agency!"

Dazai doesn't get confused very often, so he's really impressed when he searches through his memories for any recall of him holding you back from your work, but he fails to find any.

"You still don't get it!?"

You want to punch, smash and kick the life out of him, but all you do is sinking into his chest more as you inhale his scent while whining with a whisper-liked tune.

"It's... I don't know either! It's just... Maybe your face! No... Not just that... I don't know... Maybe your hair too... Or the way you smirk when you mess with Kunikida... Or how you lie on the couch as you mumble the song playing in your headphones... Or... Or how you... How you... It's everything! Everything you do distracts me! And not even at work! It's like you're everywhere but not... everywhere at the same time... I don't know again... maybe... maybe I like you or something... ah... my head... hurts..."

When you finally lose conscious and fall asleep in his arms, Dazai holds you close to himself, hands lightly caressing your hair as he smiles at your fucked up state. He now has doubts if he wants you to forget, if he wants tonight to disappear in the shades of memories from the women he had spent some nights with no strings attached; but whatever he wants, he can't help but to smile at your pretty face and glassy eyes, and how you're so innocent yet such a loud-mouthed at the same time.

↳Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya has never been one to hold back from making a drunk mess out of himself, but when he sees you taking shots relentlessly, he knows he's the one to drive tonight.

Your face is hot but not enough to evaporate the tears that can't prevent themselves from falling on your cheeks, and you're not-so-quiet sobbing is kind of catching other people's attention but somehow Chuuya doesn't care, he just presses you against his chest harder and while not wanting to ever see you be upset like this, he wishes you would drink with him alone more often.

"I...hiccup* Can't take it hiccup* anymore..."

"Oh c'mon, you've been through worse y/n. Plus, we didn't have great losses. Accidents happen"

"Right! Says the most powerful ability user!"

Your grumpy expression makes him smile harder. Although it's wrong to hug your comrade like this, he still tugs you closer and lightly rubs your right cheek with his thumb, chuckling at your confusion.

"Huh! N-Now you're laughing at me!? You- You- You're supposed to help me out, Chuuya! I- If you're going to make of fun of me just leave!"

"Like I'm leaving you here when you're a crying mess! Did you forget your position? You're an assassin working for the mafia! Anyone wants you dead! Being alone here when you're vulnerable is another one of your shitty ideas! Besides, I will never leave you y/n, you already know that"

He's right. He has never left you even once on your own before.

No matter how many times you mess up on mission, how many times you get into trouble facing your higher ups or what time it is, day and night, Chuuya always comes to help you out. He's always been there, to be a shoulder for you to lean on when you're suffering from the pain, or to cheer you up after a long mission by bringing you your favorite snacks. He has always been there with you, in sadness and happiness.

Chuuya gets worried when he catches you staring at his chest silently, but the feeling disappears when your hands land on his cheeks.

"You're right... You've never left me alone..."

Words fade from his mind as you look into his eyes and then slowly lean closer, body still wobbly but determined to do this. He never expected you to make a move. He did wanted you, even though he could never drop a hint and he thought that maybe it was for the best if nothing ever happens, but now that you're this close to him, he can't think of anything negative let alone the problems this dangerous relationship might drag along with itself. He closes his eyes as your lips meet, wrapping his arms around your waist while tasting the bitter liquid left on your mouth, totally unfazed by the looks he knows you're earning right now.

Chuuya can always fight, but he rarely gets to kiss his bestfriend; so he might as well enjoy himself while he's at it, and maybe this won't be the last time he gets this close to you.

Only if you remember what happened in the morning, which Chuuya is gladly ready to remind you in case you forget, by capturing your lips in another kiss.

↳Fyodor Dostoevsky

"I'm... cold..."

Fyodor doesn't hug his subordinates, nor does he pat them or let them sit on his lap, so... You could say you were somewhat special.

He sighs as he lightly pats you on the back, wrapping his cloak around you while thinking of scolding you as soon as you regain consciousness, never letting you lay a finger on alcohol. While he's kind of pissed because he never thought you could get this clingy since you're so shy and decent around him, but this feeling... This comfortable warmth that radiates from your body... It's nice. Nice enough to help him look over the fact that you were lying about being cold only to stick yourself to him more and whine nonsense he doesn't understand but lowkey tries to.

"You shouldn't drink this much at work, y/n. It will make us more trouble and we already have a handful of that"

Fyodor doesn't expect a response, or a proper one to say at least; and he didn't get one, if a small sob filled with regret coming from you doesn't count.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye to make sure that you're not crying, then looks back at the monitor again with his attention completely pointed at you. You're upset about something he's not aware of; he doesn't poke his nose in other people's private lives unless they're dangerous or his target of course, but for once in his life, he wishes he had paid attention to you more. Why? He knows, but it's so wrong and he doesn't want to push himself to say it out loud, happy that no one has ever asked him too.

You're one interesting little Myshka.

"I want to be of use for you"

Your voice is quiet, more like a mumble; but lucky for you, Fyodor has sharp ears.

"Hmm? What was that, dear?"

Your stare is pointed at the floor, but your mind is wandering around another place. Fyodor feels you wrapping your arms around him a little bit harder and a short pause before you speak up again, your voice a bit louder than before but would still count as mumbling.

"I... want to help you achieve your goals, sir. I don't want to be a burden to you. I want to be useful, even though the result might not really be something I would exactly like"

Fyodor knows everything. All the turns and twists of your little mind, all the intentions you have behind your little gestures, all the thoughts you smother behind your scrunched up face; but that doesn't mean he wouldn't like to hear you actually say it every now and then.

"Why? Why do you want to help me achieve something you're not looking forward to, Myshka?"

Myshka, a cute nickname Fyodor calls you with, which is kind of normal since you're a rat working under his watch; but you're the only one who gets to be called that. None of his other subordinates are called anything special. Just you. The tiny pathetic Myshka he likes more than his other subordinates. Why? No one knows, but no one really cares either.

Except for you.

I... I think that... I enjoy to see that you're relieved... And that you can... finally take a break...

Because you have nice goals and they make the world a better place...

Because... Because... I...

"Because I would like to see you smile, sir"

Fyodors coherent taps on the keyboard stops and you gain his attention again, only this time he doesn't try to hide his glance; he tilts his head and looks at you straightforwardly.

Of course you hide your face in the crook of his neck, and of course that makes his heart a tiny bit clench.

"Like... Not out of... I don't know... Mischief or anything... A relieved smile... A victorious one maybe?... Not one of those smiles you wear when you are bargaining with someone..."

"I understand what you mean, dear"

His voice is not enthusiastic but softer than before, with a hint of gentleness inside. It makes your figure looser on his lap, giving him access to do what he wants with you, as if he couldn't already.

And suddenly something unexpected happens. He plants a kiss on your shoulder, making you shiver and glue your chest to him harder than before.

"I too, would like to see you smile dear"

And I would like to have you by my side when that time comes.

All rights reserved © 2022 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd fluff #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #fyodor fluff #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor imagines #dazai imagines #chuuya imagines #dazai scenarios #chuuya scenarios #fyodor scenarios #bungou stray dogs #ashthemadwriter

[pineappleciders]

ayo can i request a male (or gn if you prefer) adult reader adopting tweek, butters and kenny? bc i love those kids but they all deserve much better parents than the ones they have in canon.

masc adult reader adopting tweek, butters, and kenny (and a bit of karen)

A/N: i've never gotten to do a male reader b4 so i'm glad you asked!!!! these r kinda separate to keep it simple, also reader is referred to as dad :)

TRIGGER WARNING: SA and abuse mentions, drugs (obviously)

tweek tweak

first things first, you start weaning him off the coffee. you still give him smaller doses for awhile just to keep him stable and with no withdrawal

if you send him to rehab, he'd definitely be a little scared. so you pack his backpack and lunch and pat him on the head and send him off, telling him to text you if he needs anything

he's always coming into your room in the middle of the night gripping his pillow and pulling his hair.

"dad, the gnomes! t-they're back, AGH!"

"tweek, i thought we went over this..."

it can be a little difficult to calm him down sometimes, so you two practice breathing exercises in case you aren't there to help him

he carries around a little card keychain that you made for him with comforting words and grounding techniques. he carries it everywhere and attaches it to his bookbag!!

you put the coffee pods on the highest cupboard shelf so he can't reach them. he hasn't tried to reach them (as far as you're aware)

you try to smooth down his hair and brush it out but it somehow always pops back up. also his hairline is fucked. so are his teeth. he's a little fucked up in every way but you love him anyways

butters stotch

with butters, it's apparent that negative discipline is not the route here. you instead opt to use positive reinforcement when he obeys and does stuff right

you're not a pushover by any means, but you are a lot less strict than his biological parents.

he gets a little confused sometimes when he doesn't get shouted at or blamed for something he didn't do. like he walks in the door expecting to get yelled at but you just hug him and ask how his day at school was

he's really glad he can actually have friends over now. his friends are always commenting on how cool his new dad is compared to his old one

butters has learned to not talk about his trauma and past. he was always taught to bury it deep down and never mention it to anybody. so when he randomly blurts out how his uncle molested him at dinner, he's confused when you look horrified

he loves to play sports in the backyard with you!!! his old dad never really spent time with him, so he has the absolute time of his life playing ball with you. it becomes one of his best core memories

he likes to draw with crayons a lot so he always draws pictures of you and him like under a rainbow or something and you always hang it up on the fridge. you're quickly running out of room for his art

kenny mccormick

as soon as he gets home and you give him the OK to eat he is eating everything in your house

turns out it's really difficult for a 9 year old to properly grow on a diet of frozen waffles and dust bunnies. you're shocked when you're preparing his bath and he's a lot skinnier and shorter than the other kids

honestly if u adopt him then you have to adopt karen too. and kevin if you want. but preferably karen.

nothing makes kenny happier than knowing she's sleeping in a warm bed with a full stomach. it's just a bonus that he is too!!

like butters, he loves to play sports with you. specifically catch and baseball. he also forces you to play barbies with him and do a high-pitched girl voice

loves to fall asleep in your lap/in your arms. like he'll fall asleep mid-piggy back ride and just snore on your shoulder

always flexing on cartman that now that he isn't the poorest kid that cartman is now. cartman hates u for it

always wants a sip of your morning coffee and waits for karen to finish her food before finishing his. it's a force of habit and it's kind of sad but also really sweet

#south park #south park x reader #platonic x reader #south park x platonic reader #platonic sp x reader #platonic headcanons #south park headcanons #sp headcanons #sp fandom #tweek tweak #tweek tweak x reader #butters stotch #butters stotch x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #leopold butters stotch #tweek sp #butters sp #kenny sp #pineappleciders

[jhoneybees]

Faraway comfort

Characters: (70s)CG!Elvis and little!Reader

Prompt: You slip into little headspace during Elvis' show but fortunately he notices and tries his best to comfort you when he can't physically.

Warnings/triggers: little headspace, age regression(let me know if I've missed any)

Hope you like it :)

_____________________________________________

Your head has been feeling fuzzy ever since waking up this morning, Elvis would just say to stay in bed and he would pamper you but cancelling his shows in the process so he could give all his attention to you was something you felt guilty of.

Elvis is the type of caregiver to do anything for his little and giving up on his shows to just take care of you is one of the many things he would do. He'd do anything, even if it makes you feel incredibly guilty. You did try talking to him about it but he would just shake his head and tell you to sit on his lap, sighing as you obliged.

Elvis knew you would often feel that way but he always made you his top priority and didn’t want to worry your pretty little head, missing a couple of shows wouldn't do any harm, he would say.

You would usually tell Elvis if you ever feel floaty or fuzzy but this time you decide not to say anything and just suck it up, you told yourself. Elvis having to attend many events, he often asks you if you wanted to join which this time he asked in the bathroom as he was shaving, you accepted with a nod and a false smile, slightly surprised that he didn't catch onto your body language, you thought your smile was unconvincing but he simply just nodded back and gave you a kiss on the forehead before turning back to his task in hand.

Your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier as the day went on, snapping yourself back to reality everytime someone speaks to you and having to ask them to repeat what they said. Elvis noticed something was off so he asked you if you were ok, earning a fake enthusiastic nod and a series of “mhm” and “I’m alright” which he replied with squinted eyes, feeling a bit of suspicion.

By the end of a long day of attending events with Elvis, your head was screaming for a lay down but you just brushed it off before you got yourself ready to watch Elvis’ performance. You didn’t want to bother Elvis with your regressing this week since he dealt with it the entirety of last week.

The performance was starting soon so you and Elvis headed down before separating in the hallway, backstage. You quietly walked into the theatre room and went to your table that was accompanied by a couple of officials that Elvis were close with. The lights dimmed and the opening riff started playing, everything was going smoothly during the performance. The girls were cheering and laughing at Elvis’ humorous jokes and irresistible charms but due to the loud music and people surrounding you, that fuzziness in your head was starting to get harder to ignore. You shouldn’t regress here of all places, not when Elvis is on stage- entertaining the crowd, you inhale sharply and look down at your lap. Beginning to play with the hem of your dress nervously. The people at your table glance at you now and again but don’t think of asking if you are okay, which makes you feel relieved since you would break down crying if they end up asking.

As Elvis sings, his eyes land on you with your head lowered. He watched as you played with the hem of your dress for a bit before he looked back to the rest of the audience but kept his eyes on you. You feel a pair of eyes staring so you lift your head up slightly to scan the room and then you stop when you see Elvis’ stare. Walking around as he sings, Elvis gives you a nod and mouths “Are you good?” your eyes soften and you finally shake your head, Elvis’ eyebrows furrow ever so slightly and he thinks of what could be wrong with you. You watch as his hand goes up into the air, index and thumb connected to form a little circle before unconnecting making a broken circle, you knew what that meant. Ever since you told Elvis about your regressing, you two created a way to let Elvis know if you were little or not when he couldn't talk to you directly so as you see that hand signal you raise your hand from under the table and form a connected circle with your fingers, your eyes glancing over at the others at your table to make sure they don't see. Elvis gives you a smile along with a nod and he turns his head towards the backstage to signal Jerry who knows about your age regression. Jerry replies with a thumbs up and takes off to go get you.

Jerry quickly takes you from your table whilst excusing you and himself before taking you backstage to Elvis' dressing room, the show finally ends and Elvis hurries to find you. Barging in loudly to see you laying on the floor, happily colouring in a pretty picture and Jerry kneeling beside you. As he walks towards you he thanks his friend making Jerry leave the room. Elvis grunts and groans as he sits down on the floor beside you and pats your hair softly. “How's my baby hm?” You turn your head and immediately a big grin appears “Daddy!” Elvis chuckles and you giggle cutely before continuing colouring your picture. Patting away the sweat from his face with the towel around his neck, he sighs deeply and speaks again “Why didn't you tell me, you was little honey?” his low sultry voice that has a slight firmness to it making you pout “Didn't wanna bother daddy..” you reply quietly. Elvis clicks his tongue “Honey, you know this. Always tell daddy when your head feels fuzzy…you don't bother me at all baby” all you could do was nod your head silently and go back to colouring. Elvis sighs again and continues patting your hair, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “But ‘s all good now..” he says in a softer tone.

#elvis #elvis presley #70s elvis #elvis fans #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #little space #little!reader

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, semifinals of the losers bracket

Propaganda:

For Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu:

you've got the founder of the fantasy ancient Chinese CIA and the leader of what is essentially the mafia and then they're soulmates and in love. they're both willing to kill anyone who dares hurt the other while also just wanting a soft domestic life together

Zhou Zishu is an assassin and spymaster who put the current Emperor on the throne, and then quit his job by faking his death (kinda, hes still dying but not as fast as he was supposed to). Had done A Lot on his old job, including murdering children (more than one, and at least one of them in a way I can't even describe without several trigger warnings), exterminating whole families, war crimes (and i dont mean this in a buzzword way, i mean "organized a public execution of foreign diplomats during war time")… btw he doesn't feel particularly bad about any of this, because he believes it was necessary. Like he wouldn't do it for fun, but he thinks the ends (putting a good Emperor on the throne) justified the means (all of the atrocities). As a retiree, he definitely cut down on the amount of morally reprehensible murder, but not murder in general. He still routinely kills ppl, he just doesn't go out of his way to kill more. Wen Kexing, meanwhile, is the Ghost Valley Master - Ghost Valley being a place where the worst of criminals are exiled. Even in such a place, he has reputation as a complete lunatic, owed partially to the fact that he either skinned a man or fed him his own flesh or both at one point, and partially to him having a rule where he would kill anyone who came closer than 3 meters to him. But in truth, everything he'd done was to survive the Ghost Valley and eventually take revenge for his parents, who were brutally murdered when he was only nine. By the start of the novel's timeline, he put his plan in motion - the plan that would drown jianghu in blood, but also deliver poetic justice to all responsible for his parents' deaths, as well as all who'd commit the same crime given the chance. And these two men, these two murderers and schemers, meet - and unexpectedly, find in each other the person who /understands/. The person who is just as ruthless and whose hands are just as bloody, but also the person who knows standing at the top of the world is not worth it, who seeks the same freedom of leaving it all behind, and who is still, underneath it all, a human, with human heart seeking connection. So you have this couple who understand each other with barely a word, and who want the same things - who are so hungry for domesticity and for people they can just goof around with when all their lives they had to measure every step and word - but ALSO where one half a couple is like "i gotta go murder hundreds in revenge" and the other half is like "ok pick you up at 6". (This btw is why I'm submitting novel's iteration of the couple in particular. Show wenzhou with their ridiculous breakups over morality could Never.) Also they were both hiding who they are when they first met, and later flirted about having figured each other out. Finally, I'll leave you my favorite quote that just. perfectly sums up their relationship: "And just like that, they fell asleep in each other's arms, steeped in the smell of blood."

You’ve probably already had submissions for them but I’ll add on. One of them founded an assassin’s guild and killed a staggering number of people. His malewife is the leader of a sect of insane murderous outcasts, and he attained his position by proving to be the most crazy and murder happy of them all. Most of the plot involves him wandering around watching his schemes get more people killed. Together they adopt a kid that was only orphaned due to said scheming (oops). They’re terrible and I love them.

For Legolas and Gimli:

They literally have a running competition between the two over who has more kills. And non-canon my ass, Legolas took Gimli to valinor

They kill alot of orcs together. They make it into a competition. Better minds than i have spoken about the couple ness

#losers bracket semifinals #word of honor #lotr #lord of the rings #legolas #gimli #wen kexing #zhou zishu

[imagineredwood]

7. Macarons 🍪

Summary: Manny likes you, has for a while, but he's gotten mixed signals from you and isn't sure if the feeling is mutual. That's ok though. Nothing a few laced cookies can't solve.

Pairing: Manny x female reader (did he have a last name? Can’t remember)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content, they do not have sex, just grinding and touching, Dark!Manny DRUGGING - the reader is drugged without her consent with a 'truth serum' type drug in her gifted macarons to get her to tell him how she feels. The reader does like him and does want to be with him/be sexual with him, she's just been shy and didn't dare to be upfront; the drug helps it come out. So their interactions are technically consensual, but she has been drugged against her will/knowledge and is under the influence. Just want to make that clear for everyone. If it's not your cup of tea or triggers you or anything like that, please don't read it. I would never want anyone to be upset by/hurt/triggered by my work, but at the same time, we're also responsible for the content that we choose to consume. So if it doesn't sound like something you would like or enjoy reading, please don't read it. I won't take it personally if you sit this one out. Also please let me know what other tw I should tag it as if there are any you feel it should be under

Word count: 1.6K

"Macarons??"

You beamed as you looked into the box, the selection of pastel treats looking delightful. They were expensive for their size, one of the main reasons you never really splurged on them. You'd had one or two here and there, but a box of 24? You had never spent that kind of money on a cookie. That didn't mean that you couldn't admire them though. You'd saved some aesthetic tiktoks of them, opting to one day spoil yourself with a beautiful box of them. You hadn't ever told Manny about your desire to have them, knowing that if you merely mentioned it, he would've splurged on the most beautiful and expensive ones he could find. He was just like that when it came to you. So you'd kept it to yourself, deciding that you would get yourself a small box for Valentine's Day, seeing as you didn't have a Valentine. 

But Manny had beat you to the punch. 

He grinned as he watched your eyes light up, happy that his gift had paid off. At first, a few months ago when he was trying to plan out what he would do for the special day, he wasn't sure if the treat was one you would be into. He wanted to make sure that whatever treat he got you for Valentine's Day, was one you would enjoy and preferably one you would remember.

When he saw the saved tiktoks, he was thankful that he'd had the idea to hack your phone a few weeks before. 

His intentions had been innocent enough, really. He just wanted to be able to know what you liked. He always got you gifts, eager to please. He had already decided he was going to put together a Valentine's Day basket for you, but he needed to make sure everything was perfect and to your liking. He needed you to see how much he cared about you and wanted you to be happy. Wanted you to be his. All of his previous gifts had warmed you and gotten you closer to him, but you still weren't his. His hope was that this gift would change that. 

So scrolling through your likes and saves, he'd found a handful of videos of the delicate treat and knew then that was his way into your heart. And right he had been. 

You smiled eyes raking over all of the colors, the sweet aroma wafting up to your nose in a swirl of vanilla and raspberry and cinnamon and-

"I'm glad you like it."

The Mayan looked proud as he eyed you, happy with his decision. Your mouth was practically watering at the smell and he knew you couldn't wait to try them. 

"Go 'head, mama. Let me know how they taste."

Your fingers hovered around the box, all of them looking so good you were having trouble picking which one you wanted. You settled on a baby pink one and picked it up, admiring it. 

"This one looks just like one I saw a video of." 

Manny nodded, knowing the exact tiktok you were speaking of. He didn't say that though. He knew that was the one you were going to have picked first. He knew you'd be excited and enthusiastic to dig into them.

That was why he had paid to have a little something slipped into the filling. 

He wasn't going to hurt you, of course not, he would never do that. He just wanted you soft and compliant. Honest. Needed to know if you felt the same way. Needed to know how you felt about him wanting you to be his and only his. So he'd gotten the idea from one of his brothers, 'truth serum cookies' he'd called it. The company made desserts for different purposes. Some had aphrodisiacs for couples to ramp up their sex life, others like the ones he had ordered had a drug known to make people relaxed and forthcoming, perfect for those who struggled with shyness when it came to dirty talk. 

In Manny's case, he just wanted you to be relaxed and open enough to tell the truth about if you wanted him as much as he wanted you. He needed to know if you would be his, and if you didn't want to be, then why. He'd brought it up to one of the Yuma brothers and he'd sold him on the idea. 'She won't even know. You can't taste it, no one would buy them if they tasted weird. They crush it up and mix it with some sugar, then add it to the cookie's filling. She won't have a clue. And you'll get to figure out whether she wants to have your crazy ass or not.' he had said.

He watched as you brought the macaron to your mouth and took a bite, catching a crumb in your hand as you licked the rest from your lips. Manny licked his own instinctively, eyes raking over your face as he watched you eat, almost in a trance. You smiled, covering your mouth as you chewed, not wanting to make more of a mess. 

"It's delicious." 

He smiled, then shook his head as you held it up to him for him to take a bite. 

"Not a fan of raspberry. Enjoy it." 

He lied cooly, and you bought it, taking another bite. You pushed the box towards him and motioned for him to take one as you both stood there at your kitchen counter. He obliged, not wanting you to suspect anything, and grabbed the cream-colored one with light brown filling, taking a bite. 

"Cinnamon." 

"Mmm." 

He held it out for you to take a bite of your own and you did, enjoying that one just as much as the other. You both stood there together, eating and chatting, a whole row missing before you knew it. You'd eaten most of them, and he wasn't worried about being affected. He didn't have anything to hide. You let out a yawn, and grabbed the lid, covering up the box with a laugh. 

"The crash after a sugar rush always sucks."

Manny nodded, his eyes on you as he watched your eyes grow a little heavier, your lids moving a little slower as you blinked. 

"Maybe we could go chill on the couch." 

You nodded and offered him a relaxed smile, that idea sounding wonderful. 

"Yeah, that sounds good." 

He followed you as you walked, hands itching to grab your hips as they swayed in front of him. You were a goddess in his eyes. A treasure that was meant to be his, but was always just out of his reach. But he was also a gentleman, despite his unorthodox methods of gaining the truth. So he kept his hands to himself, sitting down beside you on the couch. He angled his body towards you slightly like he always did, except this time it was because he was keeping an eye on you. 

Your eyes were soft, your face smooth and relaxed. He looked you over, not worried about you thinking he was weird or creepy for how long he stared at your face. He took in the angle of your nose, how your lashes fluttered on the tops of your cheeks. The softness of your lips. Your voice was gentle when it spoke, and his eyes were watching your lips as they parted, but it still caught him off guard. 

"Do you think I'm pretty, Manny?"

There it was. The serum already going into effect. His eyes drifted away from your lips and locked with yours.  

"I do, mama. I think you're gorgeous." 

You smiled softly. 

"I hoped you did." 

He inquired even though he knew exactly what you meant. 

"Hoped I did what?"

You shrugged, head tilted to the side as you gazed at him. 

"Hoped you found me pretty." 

He swallowed, his fingers wiggling as they screamed to touch you. 

"Well, I do. I think you're the prettiest little thing I've ever fuckin' seen." 

He watched as your throat moved, your swallow audible and pulling a smile from him. 

"What about you? You think I'm handsome?"

You didn't hesitate to nod. 

"I think you're very handsome. I think you're sexy." 

He adjusted himself in his seat, pants starting to feel a little snug. 

"That so?"

"Mhmm." 

You stared at him, fingers twiddling with the hem of your shirt. 

"I wanna sit in your lap. If that's ok." 

He melted, his nod sharp as he lifted the arm that was toward you, inviting you in. 

"C'mon then."

He felt his pulse quicken as you crawled over, a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you tossed your leg over his and then settled down in his lap, his eyes peering up at you. Your hands rested on his chest, fingers reaching up slightly, the tips tracing over the tattoo on his throat. 

"Wanted to sit like this for a while." 

The Mayan allowed his hands to finally drift over onto your hips, fingers digging in ever so slightly into the plush skin. 

"Wanted you to sit like this for a while too." 

Your giggle was breathless and it took everything in him not to start dragging your hips back and forth on him. 

"Anything else you been wanting?"

 You looked at him, fingers still stroking the ink. 

"Been wanting you to touch me."

Manny groaned, his hands gripping you tighter. 

"Oh yeah? Where?"

You shrugged and he shook his head, sucking his teeth. 

"Nah, none of that. Where you want my hands at, pretty girl?"

He slid his hands down further, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, gripping and pulling at your cheeks. 

"Here?"

You nodded, your hips rocking slightly. You pulled one hand away from his throat and instead gripped your own breast, your nipple hard under your palm already. 

"Maybe here too." 

He cursed quietly under his breath and pulled only one hand away to replace yours, squeezing at the soft swell of your breast, feeling like he was in heaven. 

"Yes ma'am." 

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @gangstaliciou06

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​

@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002

#imagines #mayans mc #mayans imagine #valentines day drabble event #manny mayans mc #manny x reader #tw drugs #tw consent issues #manny montana #yandere

[alannybunnue]

Ok, Imagine: Muzan Kibutsuji with a Wife

Don't question it, ya'll asked for this

But i doubt you imagine something like this...Anyway, enjoy my nonsense :3

[THERE MIGHT BE TRIGGERS WARNINGS, SO BEWARE]

The Demon Queen

= The Backstory =

(I get it, the title is not original, but it makes more sense than anything)

So Muzan is a arrogant little shit and everyone knows it.

But imagine him being married to a unbreakable sunshine

So everything began 1000 years before the main events, in the Heian Era, when Muzan was still a human.

Political marriages were pretty common back then, so you may be asking "Who in their sane minds would marry their daughter to a man on the brink of death?!" Well, our dear reader's shitty parents :3 (Which technically...her mother is me 0-0)

It obviously wasn't a very enjoyable marriage, especially with Muzan's depressing and negative personality, but his wife never change her demeanor, it didn't matter how many times he would cuss at her, she remained at his side everytime with kind smile on her face.

Muzan honestly saw her as a stupid woman who settled down for a impossible dream (Which was them living a normal married life)

So in his mind, he couldn't understand what made her stay with him day and night, waiting for the moment he somehow would be cured from his disease.

She even kept her mouth shut when he killed that Doctor :|

...But then he began to change

And it wasn't impossible to notice, he seemed more energetic, didn't stayed in bed all day like before.

However, he no longer stayed away for shades, his poor wife only found Muzan where the Sun couldn't touch him.

Which made her confused to the extreme, and the poor thing couldn't handle curiosity for long, even if her bitch of a husband wouldn't say a thing...until that one night.

At first, Muzan was going to kill her, at least he was, until she saw him walking towards her normally and became extremely emotional, and went up to her husband and hugged like her life depended on it. (No, she didn't notice the bodies nor the blood)

And as annoying as that would be to the Demon King, he indulged on it for a while, until his brain began to work and he remembered all the times this woman stayed by his side when he was at his worse.

So he transformed her :)

= Muzan as a Yandere + Some details =

One thing that must be made clear, is the detail that Muzan is not in love, he sees his darling more of a living possession than someone he is infatuated with. Using her ultimate devotion for his mere benefit.

Of course, the other reason is because he is already used to his wife's shiny personality and having to look for another woman to disguise himself among humans is too much work.

And yes, after some centuries, he begins to feel bothered whenever she isn't around him, or whenever someone else is with close to his wife.

But that isn't love! It's more like if another child stole his favorite toy.

Surely enough, he won't punish the poor woman too much, she is naive, he knows that...so giving her the silent treatment is enough to make the bubbly sweetheart cling onto him for attention. It still annoys him? Yes. But does he also finds it endearing? Also yes.

Now, does she sees his cruelty and lack of empathy? Yes, however, she is now a demon, she lived centuries with her husband telling her not to mind what they do to humans, nowadays she just can only focus on how much she loves him (My child, wtf-)

Now with demons...it's another story, you see, since she was a human, she always wanted children, but considering the man she got married to...yeah, that was impossible :D

So in her mind, the demons are her children, so whenever Muzan is agressive with them...she is really upset (Let's not comment about when he killed the Lower Moons...my baby cried all night) However, she doesn't say anything, because she can't.

Whenever Muzan can't stay with his wife, he only trusts two demons to take care of her properly

Yeah that's right, Mister Six Eyes and Basketball Man, Kokushibo and Akaza

Both are the most responsible in the group anyway, so they are more than enough to keep the woman in one place...

...But they don't stop her when she wants to stay with others too, except Akaza when she wants to visit Douma.

And Muzan can't complain much, cuz she is safe and sound when he returns, so why bother? (Or that is what she tells him, so he won't lash out on her kids •-•)

So in resume, Muzan is a bitch to everyone but his sunshine wife, but he is not in love- Or that is what he tells himself? :)

〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓

A/N: This honestly is kinda funny and cute somehow?? Muzan is one of the characters that i most despise and i still gave him a Wife...and i gave the Demons a Mom. Hope y'all enjoyed

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #muzan jackson #yandere concept #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #wife!demon!reader

[yanderehsr]

hi, I wanted to ask you about writing yandere astra express, in a situation where the reader has the ability, like the Silver Wolf, to change reality and other. What the members of the express will do, in this case, it will be extremely difficult to lock up the reader or restrict him in any way. TYSM for ur attention!!

Very well, I hope you'll enjoy😁

Also I think I found a way to supress Silver Wolf's powers, she seems to always need to use her hands for her powers, so no hands means no powers.

Sorry if this wasn't correct😅

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapped reader, Violence

March 7th: She wouldn't kidnap you on the first place, the only scenario I can see her kidnapping you would be if you were trying to leave her, so chances are you're not going to try to escape from her cus there is nothing to escape from.

But let's say you were trying to leave March 7th and you got kidnapped somehow, she doesn't want to but she freezes your hands, your hands are now encased in ice unable to move, she is so sorry but you are the most important person in her life, she can't have you leave her.

"Sorry, I am so sorry, but you were trying to leave me, but I can't allow that, I need you in my life"

Himeko: She will try everything to erase your powers, behind the scenes of course, can't have you get suspicious before your powers are gone. Hell, she shut down the internet to see if that would work, sadly it only got you annoyed and she had to apologize.

Himeko could only think of one solution, she will give you a drink, whatever you find delicious, and what does she put in it you may ask. Something that will paralyze you, make you completely unable to move, and after you are moved to her room she will feed it to you every day.

"You will eat the pill, either you open your mouth yourself or I'll force it open, I am ok with either option"

Dan Heng: Like the manipulator he is he will try and get you to willingly be with him, he will be paranoid every second of every day that you will suddenly just leave, never to return to his side again. He may have convinced you to stay for now but who knows what will happen in the future.

Dan Heng tries to think up countermeasures to prevent you from leaving. Here he can come up with a couple of solutions, all from what Himeko did to just straight of chopping of your hands, if you don't have hands then you can't leave, problem solved.

"I know that it must've hurt, but you are mine and I couldn't have the risk of you leaving me"

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere male #yandere female #yandere march 7th #yandere march 7th x reader #yandere himeko #yandere himeko x reader #yandere dan heng #yandere dan heng x reader

[nicoline1998enilocin]

I have a Sebastian Stan x Girlfriend!Reader request. Ok so the reader admits to Sebastian that she always fantasizes about Bucky doing dirty things to her and Sebastian gives her what she’s been fantasizing about🥵

I came across your writing not too long ago and I just wanted to let you know how much I love it🩵

I think of him when I'm with you

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Sebastian Stan x Girlfriend!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | ~ 950 words

SUMMARY | Sebastian accidentally finds out you're reading Bucky Barnes fanfiction, and even though he's not sure what to feel initially, he's slowly warming up to the idea. When you finally reveal your deepest fantasies, he invites you over to the set of his latest Marvel movie and makes every last dream come true. In character, of course.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Use of pet names (doll, prinţesă), smut (unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cockwarming).

A/N | Thank you so much for this request, @sergeantbarnessdoll; this unlocked some fantasies I didn't even know I had, so thank you! Also, I want to thank you for the sweet compliment; small comments like that make my day! 🖤

A/N 2.0 | Thank you so much to @avengersfantasies for giving me with this idea; I couldn't have made it into what it is now without you!

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist

''Babe, can I use your laptop for a bit?'' you ask as you walk into the bedroom where Sebastian is getting ready for his half-day shooting.

''Of course, prinţesă,'' he says, and you feel butterflies in your stomach at the name. You adore it when he talks Romanian, which makes your knees go weak instantly.

''Thank you!'' you say before heading to his office and grabbing his laptop, since yours is still at the Apple Store to be repaired. You can't live without Bucky fanfiction, so you're eager to continue reading the series you've been hooked on for a while.

You plop yourself down on the couch and log in to Tumblr, ready to continue where you left off a few days ago. This time, you finish the entire series, and you're about to delete the browser history when someone calls you, and you forget all about the laptop.

Later that day, you've returned to Sebastian's office since yours is repaired again, and you're picking it up right before Sebastian's about to come home, so you decide to grab take-out on your way home.

''Hi, prinţesă,'' Sebastian says as you walk into the door and put your stuff down, ready for a hug and a much-needed kiss, too.

''How was your day? Done anything... interesting?'' he asks with a hint of mischief, though you don't seem to notice it.

''It was good; I did some work and picked up my laptop,'' you say, and he quirks a brow, knowing you've been reading on Tumblr instead of working.

''Work, you say...'' Sebastian says before he opens up his laptop, and all color drains from your face as you see what he's referring to.

''S-Seb, i-it's not what you think!'' you try, but Sebastian gets a smirk that tells you everything you need to know; he's just as much into this as you are.

''I believe it's exactly what I think it is, prinţesă,'' he says as he pushes you against the counter behind you, caging you in as he leans in closer, ghosting his lips over yours.

''Meet me at my trailer tomorrow at 1:30 PM, and I'll give you exactly what you've been fantasizing about,'' he says, and a moan escapes your lips as he attaches his to your pulse point, making your legs feel like jelly under you.

It's the next day, and you're standing in front of Sebastian's trailer with some lunch like he asked and you knock a few times before the door swings open, and your breath hitches as you see him in full costume.

''Come in, doll,'' he says before stretching his hand out for you to grab and walk into the trailer. Your mouth is still open as you take it and look him over because he looks incredible.

''S-Seb-''

''Call me Bucky, doll. I don't know who this 'Seb' is,'' he says in air quotes, and that's when it dawns on you what he's doing. He's leaning into your fantasies, turning you on beyond belief.

He pulls you onto the couch, and you're straddling him, your soaked panties pushing against his hard cock, and you can tell he is as much into this as you are.

''You're beautiful, doll, and I can't wait to know what you taste like,'' he says before attaching his lips to yours, swallowing your moans as you grind against him.

His hands - one warm and one cold - pull up your dress until it's over your head and on the floor, and he can take in the black lingerie you're wearing, Sebastian's favorite.

A deep grunt escapes his throat as he sees the lace adorning your body, and before you know it, he lifts you and takes his cock out, sliding it deep into you with little to no prep.

''Oh, Bucky!'' you moan as you're leaning into your fantasies, only making you wetter.

''Who's making you feel so good, doll? Huh? Let everyone hear who's making his doll feel so fucking good she's going crosseyed,'' he whispers in your ear.

''B-Bucky! You're fucking me so good!'' you say as you keep bouncing up and down, his hands finding your nipples and playing with them through the lace of your bra.

''Such a perfect doll for me, my perfect fuckdoll,'' he grunts as he grabs your ass with both hands and sets the pace, fucking you hard, and you cum quickly after, followed shortly by Sebastian.

''Hmm, thank you for making me feel so good, Bucky. Can't wait to do this again,'' you say as you nuzzle into his neck when you're both coming down from your highs.

''No, thank you, doll, for making me feel special. And say hi to Seb for me,'' he says with a big smile as you keep sitting on his dick, you love to cockwarm him for as long as possible.

You've fallen asleep after Sebastian rubbed your back for a little while, and when his assistant walks in without knocking, he gets the sight of his life.

''Oh, fuck! I'm sorry! I didn't know,'' he starts, but Sebastian cuts him off.

''Don't worry, it's just Y/N, and she's taking a little nap. I'll be with you shortly,'' Sebastian says, and his assistant quickly runs out of the trailer, and when he slams the door shut, you jolt awake.

''Welcome back to earth, prinţesă,'' he says before capturing your lips in a soft kiss, and when he has to go again, he helps you get dressed and plants one more passionate kiss before he leaves.

''I can't fucking wait to do that again because this was amazing,'' he says, and with that, you're on your way home, still recovering a little from everything that just happened.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan request #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #seb stan #seb stan one shot #seb stan fanfiction #seb stan fanfic #seb stan imagine #seb stan request #seb stan x female reader #seb stan x reader #seb stan fluff #seb stan smut

[blacklesbothatlovestowrite]

On My Mama Pt 1

OOC Shuri

Shuri x reader, Riri x Reader, Shuriri x Reader.

Summary: Shuri and Riri bet on who can cuff Y/n first. However the road to getting there is a hell of a ride when Y/n absolutely despises Shuri and Riri by association.

Trigger warning: Mama's that are jealous of their daughter.

When they say she get it from her mama, Imma say You fucking right....

Riri sat on the hood of her car pretending to listen to Shuri ramble on about her latest plaything. After everything happened and she'd secured Wakanda again she decided to take a break and try schooling in America.

She was beyond advanced so her going was purely for the college experience which she was learning to love. She was drinking, smoking and partying to numb the pain of losing her entire family.

As worried as Riri was at times, she knew Shuri was in control of her extracurricular activities. She kept a watchful eye over the Wakandan Princess. She knew that her friend would find her way when she was ready.

"Damn..." Shuri says and Riri whips her head around in the direction that's captured Shuri's attention too used to the African girl's American lingo she'd caught onto.

Both girls eyes were focused on the brown skinned beauty with dark eyes and perfect plump lips. You were beautiful beyond words and they were captured by your looks.

You

"She's fine..." Riri mutters, her eyes watching as you walked on campus with black sunglasses, a silk press down to your waist, a black midriff top that showed ample cleavage without showing too much and a pair of baggy boyfriend jeans with stilettos.

"Who is that?" Shuri demanded.

"Y/n L/n." A passing student says, she was overly cheerful and only too willing to gossip. "She's a genius with a nasty attitude."

Riri stifled a laugh as you walked by, she could tell you heard what the girl said and rather than respond you simply bumped the girl and kept on walking.

"You could say excuse me!" The girl shouts, pissed at your audacity. When you don't respond she mumbles. "Bitch..."

"Why are you still here?" Riri raises a brow, and the girl's eyes widen before she makes herself scarce. She couldn't stand bitches that gossiped. Even though she was grateful for learning your name.

"I call dibs!" Shuri quickly says.

"Bitch, fuck you." Riri scoffs. "Don't you got that 40 something year old cougar? Save some pussy for the rest of us."

"Like you could handle her. She's like 5'8." Shuri smirks, as she stares down at Riri.

"Height don't mean shit. I can still tame a stallion." Riri gloats.

"Ok, if you can get her to go out with you she's all yours." Shuri says.

"I'm not playing no childish game with you Shuri." Riri snaps, she hates how competitive Riri can be when it comes to women. Her competitive side was reserved solely for inventing, business and vigilante activities.

"You saying you think you can't bag her?" The taller girl raised a brow, a devilish grin on her lips.

"Fuck outta here, I'm from Chi Town. I'm definitely bagging her." Riri snorts as if it were really a question.

The two scientists shook hands, a silent agreement going unsaid. Neither planned on playing fair, after all all was fair in love and war right ?

-

The whole morning you'd been in a foul mood. You and your mother were beefing and she still wouldn't stop calling you. You were so angry at her and for the first time in your life you wanted nothing to do with her for an indefinite time.

Maybe you were being immature, maybe you weren't. However you couldn't process what she'd done and even worse what she'd caused. Everything seemed to be falling down all around you and you felt as if you had no one to turn to.

"Y/n, right?" You hear and look up. You see the girl from earlier, Riri Williams. You knew her from the run down one of the Sorority girls gave you, you'd barely lasted twenty minutes in that home before you said fuck it and left.

If your mother thought you were going to her sorority house she was sadly mistaken. You scored a huge dorm room to yourself by miracle and had spent the day moving in.

"Yes?" You state Riri up and down. She was attractive, and very cocky. She was known all over campus for her business in helping the underachieving, lazy kids that had no business being there pass their classes with moderate grades.

"I just wanted to come and introduce myself." Riri holds her hand out. You look from her face to her hand.

"Ok. You've done that. Bye." You say dryly. Before looking down at your nails.

"Ahhhh so your little friend was right about you being full of attitude." Riri chuckles, eying you with interest. You were making her want you more. There was nothing she liked more than a bratty girl full of attitude. She loved fucking the attitude out of stubborn women and making them submit to her.

"A, I have no friends. B, I could care less what some nosy bitch said about me." You roll your eyes. You were unimpressed with Miss Riri Williams or her acquaintance, friend or whatever the hell Shuri Udaku was to her.

"Ok then, how about I become your friend?" Riri winks, flashing her perfect pearly teeth.

"No." You decline, crossing your arms.

"No?" She looks shocked.

"No, No thank you, No thanks, I decline, I don't think so, Fuck no." You deadpan. You watch as her eyes narrow at your words.

She steps so close to you, your noses are touching. She looks turned on, her pupils dilating as she looked you over with a smirk.

"You're insanely attractive when you act like a little brat." She shakes her head. "It may be no for now, but it'll be yes soon."

And with that she walks away leaving you in the hallway of your door as she enters the room across from yours and closes the door.

"Great." You huff realizing she's your neighbor.

-

You'd spent three days getting used to campus and your dorm. Riri was constantly bumping into you, she'd go as far as putting flowers outside your door. You could admire her effort, but you weren't allowing yourself to be distracted.

Your classes were a breeze. You barely had to think when it came to your work both in class and outside of it. Your professors were quickly starting to like you as you were engaged, ahead of the curve and not obnoxious with your answers like the other two high achievers on campus.

You walked through the courtyard wanting to find something to eat after two back to back classes with no breakfast because of procrastination.

"Hey, Y/n!" You hear and let out a huge sigh at the sight of Shuri Udaku heading your way. You sped up not interested in any conversation with the girl.

"Wait..." She exclaims, quickly catching up to you and moving to block you.

"What?!" You glare at the tall woman, who's fresh twist out hung in her face. The sight of her sickened your stomach.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out with me?" She asks, flashing her grills. You swallow as you notice her pouty lips turning up.

"You're serious aren't you?" You stare at her incredulously.

"I mean it can't be hard to fathom that I would want to date you, Can it?" She laughs.

"I mean considering just how audacious you are, yes I believe it is." You grumble, annoyed she was stopping you from getting something to eat. You were starving.

"Audacious?" She repeats. She looks confused. "Because I want to take you out?"

"Ha!" You snort. "You don't even know who I am do you?"

"I do, you're a beautiful, bright girl that's caught my eye." She replies, while thinking of what Riri said about you being tough to crack.

"Apparently not the only one." You roll your eyes, before moving to walk around her only for her to capture your wrist in her hand.

"I am currently single. I'm not with anyone." Shuri assures. But her words fall on deaf ears.

"Is that what you call it? Single? So you don't have to deal with the aftermath of your shitty decisions?" You hiss. She was pissing you off. You snatched your wrist away from her.

"Did I mess with one of your friends?" She asks, while scratching her neck.

"I have no friends. I'm sure your buddy told you that when I rejected her several days in a row. Or maybe she didn't, someone that cocky and relentless hates the word no." You shrug.

"So what's with the animosity?" Shuri inquires, confused as to why you seemed so put off by her. Sure she had a reputation of partying a lot, having sex with women that she found attractive that were willing to have no strings attached hookups. But that wasn't reason to dismiss her the way you were.

"How you can live with yourself is wild to me." You take a deep breath as you fight the urge to deck the princess of a foreign country with special privileges.

"Live with myself about what?"

"I'm M/N's daughter. (Mom's name)" You watch as her eyes widen and her mouth drops open.

"Maybe next time you wreck someone's family, you'll at the very least learn who their immediate relatives are so you don't hit on them too." You huff, and start heading towards the food court on campus.

"Y/n!" She calls and you swivel around curious as to how she'll try to work her way out of that one.

"I see why your body's so unpolite... You get it from your mama." She smirks watching as your face darkens.

"Did you just...." You stare in shock at her words. Nope. You didn't dislike her. You hated her.

You spin on your heels and storm off not even giving her the opportunity to say anything else.

-

"You fucked her mother???!!!" Riri's rolling on the floor. She can't stop laughing at Shuri's predicament.

"It's not funny." Shuri snaps. She was annoyed, fucking M/N was a foolish choice. As attractive as the woman was she was cross faded and looking for an escape. It'd only happened once and she'd let her mouth run recklessly to you. She couldn't believe the words that left her mouth.

"Nah, this is good." Riri chuckles, trying to stop the laughter. She had tears streaming down her face. "You just made this too easy."

"I'm not giving up. M/n owed her family loyalty and fucking decency. I didn't even know she was married, let alone a mother. I met her at a club and fucked her in the bathroom, she didn't even act like a mother." Shuri groans. This was what she got for not being more selective in the women she slept with. Attraction was her only thing as she had no plans of seeing them more than once.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Riri gasps, trying to catch her breath. "And her mama a freak? I'm definitely bagging her, all that anger and attitude is fucking hot. And what's more she can't stand you so I now have a way of getting closer."

"Fuck you, Ri..." Shuri growls, the whole situation was pissing her off. And more than that she felt guilt. The look in your eyes when she'd said what she did hit her deep. She regretted her words. She had a terrible habit of speaking in anger.

"Nah nigga, I'm good. Go fuck on M/n." Riri bursts into laughter again, watching as Shuri gets angry and storms out of her dorm; slamming the door behind her.

-

You laid in your bed sniffling, you hated that you cared so much about what happened with Shuri and your mother.

You were so angry because had your mother not been such a whore you'd still have your father. She'd cheated on him, and when he found out he'd left the house in a rush too angry to even be near her. He barely made it five minutes into his drive before he'd gotten into the accident that took his life.

You hated her so much. You couldn't understand how she could be so selfish. How she could do what she'd done. How she pretended to give a fuck about him at his funeral knowing she caused his death.

You'd made it clear you hated her and that you would never forgive her. Despite all the nasty things you'd said to her, your father was still gone and you were all alone. You'd cut off all your friends. And only went home to sleep, choosing to study all day at a cafe while you waited for the semester to begin.

You think the worst thing about everything wasn't even the fact you hated Shuri. But why you hated her. You were attracted to her, you'd had the biggest crush on her since she'd shown up on your social media feed when she enrolled in college in America.

And that made you sick with guilt.

-

Should I continue?

Bonus chapter dedicated to whoever helps me figure out how to make a tag list for those that want a continuation.

#SoundCloud #riri x reader #riri x you #princess shuri #shuri black panther #shuri udaku #shuri smut #shuri x fem!reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri x fem #shuriri #shuriri x reader

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- Bonnie Gold

Trigger warning- talk about throwing up and pregnancy stuff

Loosing John was hard for the whole Shelby family, but specially Johns twin YN. She felt like a part of her died along side her brother. No Shelby funeral would go smoothly, so when YN heard gun shots she wasn't surprised. However she was surprised by the men behind the gun shots, specifically one man in particular. His name Bonnie Gold. He rode on horse back that day, eyes locking one another and from that moment on YN and Bonnie were infatuated with one another. He helped her through the grieving process. Of course YNs brothers weren't to happy about the developing relationship, but they also knew they couldn't control their sister.

Bonnie wakes up to a cold bed and the sound of retching. Sitting up he wipes the sleep from his eyes and looks around his eyes finally land on his girlfriend who's throwing up in to a bucket

"Love?"

"I'm fine" YN breathes out but then gags once again. Bonnie gets out on their shared bed and holds YNs hair back while rubbing her back "this baby best come out looking like me after all of this" YN jokes making Bonnie laugh

"Do you think your finished?" Bonnie asks and YN nods her head in response "ok I'll deal with this and you get back into bed"

"You don't have to"

"Of course I do. Go on get into bed and I'll heat up some tea" YN knows there is no point in arguing with her boyfriend so just heads back into bed.

Not to much later Bonnie returns holding a cup of hot tea. Sitting up YN takes it from Bonnie and hums at the warmth in her hands

"I've put in some mint leaves and washed some for you to chew on. I've been told it helps with the sickness"

"Thank you" YN sighs smiling at how caring her boyfriend is, how did she get so lucky?

Once YN finishes her drink she settles back down in bed, yawning as she does so. Knowing YN needs sleep, but can't without his arm around her he also settles down next to her. He wraps his arm around her waist, rubbing his thumb on her stomach even though there is no bump there yet.

When YN wakes again she smells something so amazing it makes her stomach growl. Getting out of bed she gets dressed and then walks out to the rest of the camp. Scanning around she finds Bonnie cooking something over the fire

"Morning YN" Bonnies father greets

"Morning Aberama"

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"Very sick when I first woke. Im feeling much better now though"

"Good. You best go grab some breakfast, don't want my grandchild to get hungry" just then YNs stomach growls

"I think they're already hungry" YN laughs

"Off you go then" YN walks over to Bonnie. Just as she sits down the sound of hooves can be heard coming closer. Bonnie protectively stands up in front of YN, but calms once he realises it's YNs brothers. Stopping in the camp Tommy gets off his horse, Arthur and Finn following behind

"Your just in time for breakfast. Would you like some?" Tommy passes because, well it's Tommy he barley eats anything. But of course Arthur and Finn join around the fire for some food

"So what are you doing here?" YN asks tucking into some eggs

"Just wanted to check on you" Finn shrugs

"Wanted to check to see if Bonnie and I got married in secret because I'm with child?" YN raises her eyebrows looking at Tommy

"I told you I would pay for everything"

"And I told you that Bonnie and I don't need to get married. It's just a piece of paper to say that I belong to Bonnie Gold. I don't belong to anyone other than myself"

"And don't we know it" Arthur mutters causing YN to throw some bread at him. Bonnie smiles watching the Shelby siblings interact with one another, hoping that his and YNs children will have the same kind of relationship and love for each other.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #sister shelby #shelby sister #bonnie gold #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby

[callmissrogers]

There For His Girl | Steve Rogers x Reader One Short

Summary: Y/n has reached her limit. Work has been difficult. People have been short, and some just mean. It all brings her back to her childhood, and right now, she just wants to pretend to be ok. So determined to pretend she tries to push her concerned husband away.

WARNINGS ⚠️ This contains mentions of a toxic relationship with the reader's mother and quotes some of their arguments. If this is a trigger for you, please DO NOT proceed. It also contains angst, fluff, and comfort. Also, very little editing and wrote on my phone.

Steve Rogers x wife reader

Word count: 1,370

Notes: The next part in the That's My Girl series will be going up today or tomorrow. I was feeling the need for some comfort myself, so this is what I wrote. Hope you like it!

Y/n slammed the door, tears streaming down her face she pressed her back into the wall and slid down until she was a small ball on the floor.

"Why do I do this?" She sobbed hating herself.

Y/n had had a rough few days. It seemed like no matter what she did or said, people were short with her. Everything was going wrong, and after one mistake, which led to a snarky backhanded compliment from Tony Stark himself, well, Y/n was done. Usually, it didn't get to her like this anymore, but her emotions frayed to a breaking point.

Her dad always told her she wore her heart on her sleeve but she just thought her mom was right and that instead of enduring this made her a nuisance.

Why should she be so bothered when people utter unkind things to her?

Why can't she pull herself together?

"You're always start crying! Stop trying to make me feel bad"

"You're stabbing me in the back by trying to do something different"

"Don't you know I need you here? Stop thinking about yourself and making everything harder on me"

This and many other instances where y/n would be belittled, ridiculed, screamed at, lectured for two hours at 1 in the morning, and reduced to making herself as small and as unseen as possible while being a sobbing mess, had made her what she is today.

Too sensitive. At least that's what she told herself at times like this.

And why couldn't she just talk about it like a normal person instead of blowing something trivial out of proportion?

Literally five minutes ago....

Steve had come home the night before. Poor guy had been so tired that he fell asleep in uniform on the couch.

Y/n had been carefully tiptoeing around the kitchen so as not to accidentally wake him up. Intending to surprise him before heading to work.

She was supposed to be going over mission plans with Vision today. This was the kind of work that excited her. None of the agents would bother them while they were working, which meant that she could just disappear for the day.

She platted up breakfast and carried it over to set it on the coffee table in front of the sleep soilder.

Tho he didn't actually wake up until she set down his mug of coffee.

Eyes fluttering open he peered up at her groggyily. "Hi" He mumbled, pushing himself upright. "Hey sleepy head." Y/n said, trying to make her voice sound chipper.

Steve sighed contentedly as he stretched out his muscles before standing up.

"Mind if I go change clothes before I enjoy this masterpiece?" He asked. Y/n turned to face him, attempting to smooth down his wild bedhead and then said, "Go ahead"

He was back a matter of moments, settling down next to her and drinking deeply from his coffee.

"Thank you for this," He sighed leaning over and gently kissing her on the cheek. Y/n just nodded, trying to keep her mind on a healthy track she focused on eating.

"Did you sleep well?" Steve asked. Taking another bite, she thought about lying and telling him that she had had the best night sleep.

"Sorta" She said trying to stiffle a yawn. "What does sorta mean?" Steve asked turning to look at her. "Nothing really. I'm good! Nothing some strong coffee won't fix."

Steve placed his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. He studied the dark circles, the faint tint of bloodshot in her eyes, how she held herself and her fiddling hands.

"Hm," He said, his voice low in his chest.

Y/n knew exactly what he was doing, shaking his hands off her shoulders and standing up she said, "I should probably get ready for work."

Steve stood up, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "Y/n, you look exhausted." "I'm fine" "You're twirling your hair, which means you're not telling the truth." "Steve, c'mon I don't have time for this" "Y/n, it looks like you've been crying" She pulled his hand off her wrist and started to walk away from him, "I'm going to work." "Sweetheart, please just tell me what's - " "Steve! Please just listen to me and leave me alone!" She yelled, cutting him off. She ran off to the bedroom, and that's when the door slammed.

Steve stood there a moment, thinking about honoring her request and leaving her be. But his protective nature overtook him and he decided that the best thing to do would be to be there for his girl.

In the bedroom.

Y/n sat against the wall still crying into her hands, body trembling, thinking hateful thoughts about herself.

She heard Steve knock on the door, saying "Sweetheart, can I come in?"

When she didn't answer him, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

She could feel him kneeling down in front of her, "Sweetheart," He whispered, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear to which she only buried her face further.

The next thing that happened, was Steve scooping her up into his arms and settling down in the arm chair that sat in the room.

Somehow this just made her cry more.

"Oh honey, come on now. Take a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth." He soothed.

After about ten minutes of this, her crying settled down, breath becoming rhythmic.

Once he was sure that she had calmed down enough to be able to communicate with him, he asked his voice low and rumbling through his chest, "Do you wanna talk about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

She nodded against his shirt. "Everything" she gasped. "Everything?" He asked, pulling her back so he could look her in the face. Dabbing away the leftover tears.

"I'm too emotional. Everything the last few days just hurts. I let everything get under my skin... I just. . Lately, people and Stark are just mean, or maybe I'm just too sensitive.. and now I've yelled at you, too." She said, trying to get up.

"Now hold on a minute, " He cooed, keeping her in place.

"What did Tony say?" "Nothing. I messed up and he was being sarcastic, but I'm such a mess that it hurt" she said her voice breaking. "Alright. Listen to me. One, you are not too emotional. The world tells everyone to button up and be cynical. You, my dear, are a light in all that mess. You do care and that's a very good thing -- I don't want you to listen to anyone that would belittle that, ok?" He asked getting a slow, uncertain nod in response. "Ok. Secondly, people can be mean, especially Stark. People also have power trips and want to pull people down to make themselves feel stronger or better. This means there's one thing you can always be certain of: Do you know what that is?" "What?" "They're wrong. Anyone who would belittle you to make a point or to win an argument or for any other reason, is just a bully." "But what if-" "ah. No what ifs. Thirdly, and this one is the one that's most important of the three." "Then why'd it come last?" She asked clearly beginning to feel a little bit better if she could tease him now. Steve simply rolled his eyes and continued,

"I want you to remember that when you're upset, you can always talk to me. No matter how silly it might make you feel, your feelings are safe with me." "Steve I just yelled at you for no rea-" "No. You had a reason. You were upset. I can see that and you know what that means? It means I can take it too. When I put this ring on your finger," He said taking her hand in his and running a finger across her knuckles. "I signed up for this. I'd rather have you get emotional than bottle things up and hide them from me."

Y/n looked down at their still intertwined hands and then back up at him. Nodding again and breathed out an "ok"

"Ok." Steve replied, giving her his usual comforting smile and kissing her forehead.

#steve rogers comfort #steve rogers romance #steve rogers argument #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x wife #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel shortstory #hurt & comfort #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x wife #captain america angst #marvel romance #marvel character #marvel x reader #marvel fandom #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #captain america short story #steve rogers x yn