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urhoneycombwitch · 27 days

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sick days

foreword: first proper fic for dad!Steve series!! thanks for requesting, anon. happy mother’s day to those who celebrate, and to those who don’t (cheers)- I hope this fic is a comfort. hair texture and skin color of the kids in this series will not be described- any physical descriptors will be of their likeness to Steve. if you want to read the origin story/meet-cute of this version of Steve + reader, you can read that here!

{for every ear a flower: series masterlist}

cw: mom!reader, R wears Steve’s shirt, the whole fam is sick in this one (no emetophobia warning tho!), fluff and parental caretaking

wc: 1.6k

___

There’s a soft noise around the corner, and Steve dog-ears his novel to scoot forward on the couch, voice soft and inviting. “Hey, buttercup. That you?”

His eldest daughter, JJ, peeks out from the entryway of the living room. “Me.”

“It’s you,” Steve confirms with a hum, setting his book on the coffee table to open his arms. “C’mere, babe. Your stomach hurting again?”

JJ gravitates towards her dad’s lap like a magnet, dragging her yellow flower-print baby blanket behind her. She’s already three and a half, but Steve hopes she never grows out of it- or the tiny socks with ruffles, warm in his big hand as he holds both her feet in a comforting squeeze.

“Head hurts,” JJ says, in a heartbreaking whine, settling her weight against the contours of Steve’s chest.

He sighs in sympathy, rocking his first baby in his arms like he did when she was even smaller. “Your head hurts? That’s no good.”

JJ makes a noise of agreement and burrows into Steve’s neck, cheek warm where skin meets skin. Steve slides a hand up her back, over her pink cotton nightie, to feel for lingering fever- her forehead is warm but not overly so.

In silent thanks to the wonders of Baby Tylenol, Steve kisses the crown of JJ’s head and pats the side of her leg. “Tell you what- it’s past bedtime but you’re not feeling so good. Wanna watch a movie out here with me ‘til you fall asleep?”

Normally this news would be cause for a screech of delight and some couch jumping, but on the tail end of a long week of sickness, Steve’s little girl just plucks absently at his shirt collar. “Mommy too?”

“Mommy’s putting your sister down for bed,” Steve says, and then (because he always tries to be mindful of where blame could land, knowing full well that disappointment can breed sibling rivalries, and he doesn’t think he could stand seeing that sisterly bond turn contentious)- “But I’ll go see if she needs some help, and then maybe we can all be cozy on the couch. Sounds good?”

JJ hums in response, sounding faded and fatigued, and Steve moves carefully to keep the jostling to a minimum as he stands to re-situate his kiddo on the couch. After tucking the blanket in yellow swaths around her body, Steve turns to the nearby VHS stack above the TV.

“You want Ariel?” he asks, already reaching to free The Little Mermaid from its plastic confines.

“Yeah. But no Urz-la,” comes the reply from the couch.

Steve kneels to load the tape into the deck, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they’d slipped. “I promise I’ll be back in time to fast forward.”

The VCR whirs, opening credits coming to life on the screen with a colorful overture to match. After lowering the volume, Steve backtracks to the couch again, dipping to place a kiss against the dimples in JJ’s hand where it curls around a fistful of fabric.

“Be back in a few, buttercup.”

The cheery music fades as Steve moves down the hall; the first door on the right is partially open, and he leans a shoulder against the frame, quietly observing, not wanting to interrupt your rhythm.

In a pair of comfy sweatpants and Steve’s old Hawkins High tee, your form moves smoothly around the darkened room, tracking a short loop from the crib to the changing table on the opposing wall. You’re walking with a gentle bounce, swaying the baby in your arms with each step, a constant murmur of nonsensical soothing as you rock your youngest to sleep.

“That’s it. You’re a sweet girl. Just close your eyes, ‘kay? Shh shh shh. Sleepy time.”

Steve can hear the exhaustion in your voice, even low as it is, and feels a twist of guilt- the college where the two of you work only allows librarian staff one day of sick leave per month, which Steve considers a crime (JJ gets sick at least that often from whatever germs her preschool provides).

Thankfully, his professor leave is slightly better, a generous three days a month, which he’s unintentionally blown in a week with this last bout of mystery sickness that’s been passed through his little family.

You, on the other hand, were only afforded a three-day weekend, and not a very restful one at that: on top of trying to recover from sickness yourself, a fevered baby Birdie has been overly fussy while JJ has been desperately clingy to both you and Steve.

It’s been a long weekend of rotating in and out of three bedrooms, disrupted sleep schedules, and speedy trips to the local pharmacy; a blur of constant motion as Steve and you have tried your best to stay afloat and tend to your sick kids.

Steve’s grateful the worst of it is over, now that everyone’s fevers have broken, and he’s glad you’ve still got a whole Sunday to recover. But by the looks of it- hovering uncertain over the bars of Birdie’s crib, unwilling to lay her sleeping form down- you’re not giving in to recoup time yet.

Steve moves in behind you, quiet still but shuffling his bare feet against the carpet a bit to let you know he’s there. “Hey,” he whispers into the curve of your neck, hands coming to rest at your hips, joining the rocking motion you’re keeping up for the sake of the baby. “How’s my girl?”

“Better, I think.” The arm that isn’t holding the weight of your six-month-old comes to rest against the fat of her cheek, Birdie’s closed eyelids fluttering while you feel for fever, just as Steve had earlier. “Hopefully she’ll sleep through the night, with this medicine.”

“Mhm. She’s a lot better, babe- I meant you.” Steve molds himself to the contours of your back, swaying to the tempo you keep, nosing up the line of your neck to place a kiss behind your ear. “Can’t pour from an empty chalice. Or whatever that saying is.”

There’s a soft stutter at your ribs as you exhale a laugh, hand still on the face of your sleeping baby. “Think Eddie’s wearing off on you.”

“God forbid.” His arms wrap around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, smiling when he feels you lean some of your weight against him. “You can put her down, honey. She’s gonna be okay. Come watch Ariel with me ‘n buttercup. I’ll even skip past the scary parts for ya.”

“Well, in that case,” you whisper back, a tinge of amusement in your sleep-scratchy voice that hits Steve in his soft spot of love for you. With reluctance and practiced ease, you slip forward from his arms to lay Birdie in her crib, pausing to make sure she’ll settle without your warmth and movements.

She stays asleep, and you stay watching her, corner night light illuminating the steady rise and fall of her footy-pajama’d body with each breath until Steve takes your hand, gently coaxing- “She’s golden, honey. You did great. I’ve got the monitor by the couch, so we’ll hear if she’s up, okay?”

Your gaze stays on Birdie even as Steve leads you backwards towards the door, even leaning to catch one last glimpse before he pulls the door to a near-close. In the light of the hallway, you blink, looking more worn out than Steve’s ever seen you.

He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing across the knuckles, tortoiseshell-framed eyes on your half-lidded ones. “Ariel?”

This seems to resonate in the fog of your mind; with a nod, you squeeze his hand. “Ariel.”

On the living room TV, Ariel and Flounder are exploring a shipwreck, and JJ’s watching from her snuggled spot with glazed eyes until she sees you in the doorway. “Mommy,” she says, with feeling, trying to prop herself up but getting tangled in the process.

“Hi, baby,” you greet with equal verve, kneeling to give your eldest baby some untangling and a kiss. “Can I watch Ariel with you?”

In response, JJ musters all her three-and-a-half-year-old strength to pull you on to the couch cushion, and Steve chuckles in tandem with you as you go easily, shushing gently- “Okay, JJ. Don’t strain yourself, angel, just rest.”

There’s nothing like your touch. Steve knows it, and so do both his kids- under the circular pattern you trace against JJ’s face pressed into your leg, her lashes flutter, lulled to calm again by the caress of your fingertips.

After Steve makes sure that the baby monitor on the windowsill is crackling with life, he eases into the spot beside you, draping his arm around your shoulders- you nestle into his side out of habit. JJ’s nearly asleep, but your hand doesn’t waver, generous and tender even though sleep pulls at the edges of all your movements.

A shark snaps at tailfins across the screen, volume low enough to not shake JJ from the sleep she’s fallen into. Steve kisses that same spot behind your ear, then whispers, “Perfectly good shoulder right here. Wish you’d use it.”

He’s rewarded with a dreamy smile as you give in, head dropping to rest in the hollow of his waiting shoulder. Your hand stops its tracing, instead landing to rest securely over your daughter’s arm.

Soon, Steve is eased to sleep by the quiet breaths filling the living room, head tilted back against the couch, glasses tilted to one side. He’ll have a killer neck crick in the morning, but it’ll be worth it.

And luckily for him, you’ve got the most healing hands in the world.

#for every ear a flower #dad!steve #dad!steve harrington #oc!kid #oc!kids #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington #st fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you

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mrsnancywheeler · 2 months

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i am BEGGING you to write more for finnick and virgin reader. what you wrote for 🌾 anon was like the hottest thing i’ve ever read. what about him going down on reader for the first time and him explaining what he’s doing every step of the way?

by popular demand 🫡🫡🫡

when you're finally ready and all laid out on his bed, just in your underwear and you feel like you're supposed to feel more nervous but he's looking at you so lovingly, so comforting, and he's kissing you and then you can't think because his lips are so addictive. he's already walked you through him stretching you out on his fingers, wiped away your tears, but you'd insisted you wanted to keep going. by the time you've gotten off on his fingers you're desperate for more.

"you sure you wanna keep going, sweetheart? we can stop if you want."

you're whining in a plea for him to do as he pleases, "wanna go all the way, finn, promise."

"okay" and his kiss on your forehead leaves you chasing his lips, "gonna line myself up with you, honey." just the feeling of his dick sliding over you, so close to the entrance has you squirming. "it's probably gonna hurt, sweetheart, might take you a while to adjust. I'll take it slow, but I need you to tell me if it's too much. you think you can do that for me?"

you're whispering out a, "yeah" that feels nearly impossible to get out when you just want to whine in agreement

"good girl." and he can't help but chuckle when your whining again, pouting. "we're gonna go real slow, just gonna slide inside of you honey, just a little bit... fuck, you're so tight. feel so good." and your eyes slam shut, fingers wrapped in the bed sheets, "are you okay? need me to stop?"

you're shaking your head vehemently, "no"

"okay, just a little more." he's sliding in just a little bit further, "here, honey, I'm gonna touch you right where I did earlier that made you feel good and it'll help. is that okay." he excuses the lack of verbal confirmation when you're nodding over and over again, mouth opening but nothing's really coming out. "yeah?" and you're nodding again, so he's finding your clit and it's heaven on your earth the way you sound when he starts rubbing.

"oh, finnick!"

"yeah, that feels good, honey? okay gonna slide in more, you're doing so good for me." this continues until he's finally fully inside, "look at that honey, you took all of me. told you, you're perfect."

"so full, finnick."

"I know, honey, such a good girl taking me all the way. I'm gonna start moving now, okay? super slowly and you tell me if I need to stop." his fingers continued their relentless assault on your clit that had your biting your bottom lip.

"okay, please"

slowly he began thrusting in and out of you, biting down on his own lip as he went. "feel so good, honey. how are you feeling?"

"keep going." he stops to peer at you, the pain evident in your eyes, the way your nose is scrunched up

"how are you feeling?"

"it hurts, but just keep going, please."

"tell me if it gets worse, I can stop, honey, that won't upset me." but he did as you insisted and kept going

"finnick, keep going!"

"oh, she's snappy. can't be upset with you though, you feel so perfect, you are perfect"

after a while, a couple more pauses when he can tell you're in pain, you're begging him for more, "faster, please, I can take it, promise."

"if you're sure, then I'll speed up- fuck honey, so good."

"feels so weird, finn, like it did earlier."

"yeah? my good girl gonna cum for me again? it's okay, you can let go, got me so close" and he talks you through your orgasm too, "that feel good, honey? you're okay, it's okay, I'm gonna go nice and slow. you've got this, taking me so well. fuck, I'm so close, gonna pull out now honey, you're gonna feel empty, it's all gonna be okay. when I cum, is it okay if it gets on you?"

and when you're muttering it's alright and he's letting go on you, listening to you whine as he pulls out, he's addicted to you

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #anon #finnick odair smut

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yellowjackets96 · 3 months

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the way you do the things you do / angus tully x reader — part one

summary / chaos is only natural when barton's resident misfit strikes up a bond with the middle child of the school's most despised instructor.

warnings / none

word count / 1,300+

hii! this one goes out to the very wise anon who suggested a plot revolving around angus and mr. hunham's kid, which, i must say, is an utterly brilliant concept. however, it turned out to be a lot longer than just a mere one-shot like my first one had been, so it'll probably end up being two or three parts. i hope that's okay, lovely anon. thank you for sharing your brilliance with me!

Moreso than anything else, the relationship between the two of you started as an agreement. Well, an unspoken one, but an agreement nonetheless. Somebody had to look out for the two of you, on equal footing as outliers, as social rejects, as the odd men out. No one could be better for that role than you yourselves.

To your utter dismay, ever since your parents made the decision to ship you off to Barton Academy in order to get you “the best education available” for high school (which was made possible by your father’s half-off tuition staff discount), you found yourself under a level of scrutiny that you never once faced at your old public junior high. It was not your intention to be perceived as the offspring of the most hated man there, either, but word travels quicker than a deer crossing the road at Barton. A concept introduced to the dean on a Sunday morning ends up widely-understood knowledge by a Monday evening. You’d already been written off as the ‘spawn of Satan’ before you even started your first class. Tough fuckin’ luck.

On the other hand, Angus’s isolation was entirely self-imposed. Following several years of what his mother had promised would be a “short-lived maintenance phase,” he became fed up with the entire process — the constant shifting and forced socialization and paperwork and meetings with headmasters. Lather, rinse, repeat, over and over until he felt utterly insane. He grew to resist society’s forced conditioning of him, lashing out the only way he knew how, through acts of adolescent rebellion. Due to how much you contrast from your stickler father, you eventually saw eye to eye with Angus on this. Once you had finally worn him down to the point of dragging a tragic backstory out of him, you understood why, because, of course no teenager could possibly be interested in the art of befriending their peers and engrossing themselves in a community at their third consecutive school.

But it didn’t start off too swimmingly.

He entered your life on the strangest day of the week, during the least-interesting possible time of year — a Thursday in late February. You learned of his arrival through the grapevine, mere hours before you first saw him. Perched at a seat towards the very corner of the dining hall, you had become increasingly intrigued by the nearby nonstop chatter from a group populated by Georgie Jackson, Philip McNamara, Billy Wolfe, and Teddy Kountze, a rare sight in the seven o’clock breakfast setting, which was typically chock full of half-dead, completely exhausted teenagers.

“You wanna bet it’s gonna be another freak?” Teddy had grumbled, shaking his head dismissively at something optimistic Georgie must have said. “They’re half the school, at this point.”

He not-so-transparently nodded towards you, earning him in-sync laughs from the more agreeable Philip and Billy, and a halfhearted head shake from Georgie. “Christ, dude. And you wonder why we’re the only kids who tolerate you.”

Teddy threw his hands up defensively. “Hey, I’m just sayin’! We could benefit from someone actually cool and fun.”

“God, could you imagine how cool a girl would be?” Billy daydreamed, practically drooling.

The shaggy-haired blonde smirked. “You’re telling me. That’s all I wanted since I first enrolled here. Would be nice if old man Woodrup would do what the student body actually wants, for once.”

“Instead,” Philip piped up, wearing a dejected pouty frown. “I’m hearing this guy got kicked outta three different schools.”

Your curiosity piqued, you finally jumped in, against your better judgment. “What could possibly get a teenage boy tossed from not one, not two, but three schools? That sounds utterly ridiculous.”

The energy sufficiently changed as Teddy shot you a poisonous glare, you watched the trio of his small-time henchmen sink into their seats, seemingly anxious at how angry you were about to make him. His scrunched-up face twisted into a confident smirk, like he was one-thousand percent confident he could ensure you would never speak to him again. “What’s it to you, Walleye Jr.? You think I’d lie about some shit like that? Would you tell your daddy if I did?”

A scoff escaping your throat, you leaned back into your seat, slightly dejected. “Well, no, but-”

“That’s what I thought,” Teddy said, his lackeys chuckling in unison, practically on cue. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends, loser.”

Just like that, enforced unnecessary social hierarchy had left you right back where you were before, with more questions than you could ever get proper answers for.

Once lunch period rolled around, you figured you may as well not try your luck again.

Wrapping a gentle fist against the surface of your father’s door, you barely had to stand by for more than a few moments before he greeted you, the smile that he saved for you and the rest of your family plastered across his cheeks as he slung an arm across your shoulder, pulling you into a casual hug. Due to the academy’s policy of teacher’s children not being allowed to take their parent’s classes to avoid favoritism, you no longer spent time with him every day as you typically did with your mother back home. The reunion was definitely something you had been yearning for since you last saw him, even though it must have been no less than a week ago last Sunday. For the first time in far too long, something at Barton brought joy back to you.

“How have you been, sweetheart?” your father asked, his reading glasses bouncing slightly on the bridge of his nose as he sat back down at his desk. He pointed to the chair on the other end of it, offering it to you. You gladly accepted, tugging the seat out and sliding into it.

You shrugged at the question, trying not to pay Kountze and his gang of blockheads too much mind. “Fine. Haven’t really done anything too notable or special.”

“Well, hey,” he offered, sliding a sheet labeled roll call across the desk to you. “Maybe this’ll brighten your spirits, despite how much the prospect of it annoys me.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, you instantly know what he was referring to, your eyes catching on the highlighted name sandwiched between Neil Sweeney and Todd Wedderling, bearing an emboldened word next to it — Angus Tully (NEW). And then, like it were on cue, the door behind the two of you swung open, revealing the sight of an instantly-enrapturing bearer of deeply brown eyes.

“Ah, Mr. Tully,” your father remarked, rising from the desk to greet him. “What a coincidence. I was just introducing them to you.”

Angus snorted. “All good things, I hope.”

“You’ve yet to prove us otherwise,” the older man quipped, before quickly turning toward you. “This is my middle child, the one Dr. Woodrup told you about. They’re a sophomore like you, so even though you won’t be in my class together, I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Picking up on the hint, you offer the other teenager a hand, which he casually shakes. “Pleasure to meet you, Angus.”

The brunette offered a crooked half-smile, enough to draw one out of you, too. “Nice to meet you as well.” Everything about him seemed natural — the way he didn’t force his grin, the warmth of his palm, the distinct waviness of his mud-shaded curls. This school left you perpetually surrounded by well-off jackasses, standing where they were currently placed via generational wealth, rather than strength and perseverance, working off of their own merits as your father had. Not to say that Tully was dissimilar in that manner, but he just felt so distinctly different, like he was not even trying to cultivate a phony persona in the effort of impressing others. If only everyone were like him. Maybe Barton would be bearable after all.

#angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers 2023 #ziggy writes shit #lyric from the AMAZING temptations song #go stream that if you haven't!#anon request

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lcvernat · 1 year

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Case of the Sniffles | Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Request: could you write a fic with natasha x fem!reader where the all avengers were sent on like a really important mission but natasha’s missing and no one can find her so reader goes looking for her to find her sick asf in her bedroom? can u make it really fluffy, please? thank u!! 😁

Word Count: 1.2k

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of the flu/medicine, strong language

A/N: thank you for requesting anon! i am so sorry this took me so long to get to but i hope you enjoy this anyway <3 sick fics are so cute and fluffy to write i rlly enjoy writing them so thank you again for this request

"Where the hell is Romanoff?"

Tony finally put words to what the rest of the team had been thinking for the past few minutes. The team were geared up and ready to infiltrate a highly secured HYDRA base, one of the most important missions to date. Months of gathering intel had led up to finding this base - they had hidden it extremely well, and time was of the essence right now. Except, a very obvious anomaly was the missing presence of your girlfriend.

This was extremely unusual, because one thing Natasha Romanoff never missed out on was a mission. Especially one of this importance. It was very out of character for her, and you tried your hardest not to worry. Tried not to let your mind drift to dark, unrealistic places. She was fine, she had to be fine, you had literally seen her last night and she was fine. She just wasn't present.

"I'll go look for her," you volunteer, getting a murmur of agreement from the rest of the team as you set off on your hunt through the Compound.

"Nat?" You call out, "Did you forget that we have a mission today? Leaving in... what was meant to be three minutes ago, actually."

No answer.

You sigh. She wasn't in the kitchen or in the living room, so the most logical place to check next would be her own bedroom. She was never one to sleep in, but it wouldn't hurt to check. She had to be somewhere, after all.

Knocking gently on the door to her bedroom, you called out, "Sweetheart, you in here?"

Still no answer, so you gently pushed open the door and walked in. It was pitch black, and the curtains were drawn. You could just about make out a figure on the bed, deciding to switch the light on and squinting your eyes at the brightness. With the room now full of light, you could tell that the figure on the bed was definitely Natasha, if the strands of fiery red hair peeking out of her blanket cocoon were anything to go by.

"Nat?" You whisper, gently poking her and sending a silent prayer up that she isn't dead. She groaned in response, shuffling around in her cocoon as she subconsciously pulled the blanket further over her head. At least she was alive. Still very uncharacteristically Natasha, though. "You okay? Forget about the mission?"

Natasha shoved the blankets off of herself then, shooting up in the bed with wide eyes, "Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I missed my al-" She was cut off by a sneeze, and your suspicion rose. Now that you could take a better look at her without her being covered by blankets, she didn't look well. At all. Her face had taken on a ghostly pallor, and her eyes looked visibly tired despite her just being asleep for hours longer than she'd normally be. You narrow your eyes, gently placing the back of your hand on her forehead and you nearly wince at the heat radiating off of it.

"God, Tasha, you're burning up. You have a fever."

She shook her head, "No. 'M fine. Promise. I just slept in."

"You are not fine. Lie back down. You're clearly sick."

As if to answer your question, a sneezing fit shook her entire body. Still, Natasha was relentlessly stubborn, even if she had a fever that felt like she'd spent the entire night in a sauna, "I am fine," she insisted, sniffling. She tried to push herself off of the bed, only to be greeted by your firm hands on her shoulders, pushing her back down.

"No. You are not going anywhere. You are going to get some rest, and I'll be your doctor. I'll strap you down to this bed if I need to."

She glared at you, but she must feel really shit because it didn't take that much for her to finally agree, even if it was reluctantly. She lay back down, and you kissed her forehead gently, brushing her hair out of her face. "Okay, I'm going to tell the team that they can manage the mission without me, because I have a girlfriend who needs to be taken care of, and I'll grab a few things for you. You stay here, and keep the blankets off you, you don't want to overheat with your fever."

"Yes, ma'am," Natasha mock-saluted and you laughed, kissing her forehead once more before leaving to tell the team.

Honestly, Peter should be locked up for telling Tony what 'whipped' and 'simp' meant, because the amount of times he had called you those two words when you explained why you were staying behind was enough to last a lifetime. As if he wouldn't do the same for Pepper. He was such a hypocrite.

After taking a detour to change out of your suit and into something more comfortable, you returned to Natasha's room carrying a box of tissues, some Tylenol, a thermometer, a thin blanket, a bottle of water and a pint of ice cream. The redhead sat up in bed as you entered, and you flashed her a smile.

"Okay," you dumped the items at the bottom of her bed, "first, here's a blanket for you. It's thin enough so it won't cause you to overheat but will help with the chills that can come with a fever," you threw the blanket towards Natasha and she caught it with a grateful smile, draping it over herself.

"I've brought ice cream for later, and I can make you soup if you want some. We can have a movie day too. Now open wide," you smirked, picking up the thermometer and walking towards her, popping it into her mouth. She reached out to take ahold of your free hand as you both waited, and you hummed contentedly. It seemed sick Natasha was a clingy Natasha. You liked that bit.

The thermometer beeped and you took it out of her mouth, inhaling sharply as you read the number, "102 degrees? Yeah, you're definitely not going anywhere for the next few days."

Natasha groaned, opening her mouth to more than likely complain, but she quickly closed it when you answered her with a warning glare. "No arguing."

You handed her the bottle of water and some Tylenol before putting the thermometer away.

"You want some soup?"

She took the pills before shaking her head, "Not hungry. In the mood for some cuddles, though."

"That, I can do," you smiled. Putting the pint of ice cream on the bedside table for later, you jumped onto the bed, snuggling into Natasha. "You feeling okay?"

She nodded, "Apart from feeling like general shit, I'm a lot better now that you're here."

"That was extremely sappy of you, Romanoff."

She smiled before breaking into a cough, "Seriously, though. I've never had someone take care of me before, even if it's as simple as taking care of me when I have the flu, so it... it means a lot. Thank you," she sniffed.

You passed Natasha a tissue, trying your hardest not to cry at her reaction to such a simple gesture. Taking care of someone when they're sick should be expected, it shouldn't be surprising for Natasha, and you hated that it was. "I love you, of course I'll take care of you when you're sick. Even when you're not sick, anything you need and I'm here, okay?"

She nodded, putting an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. You didn't even care that you could potentially catch her germs, all you wanted was to be in her arms and make her feel better.

"Wanna have a movie marathon for the entire day?" You asked, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Absolutely."

tags: @sheneonromanoff @olicity-boo @r4nd0mgir1 @tigerlillyruiz @dj-bynum3718 @lovelyy-moonlight

dm me, send me an ask or reply to be added to my taglist!

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x you #black widow fanfiction

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kakashixhatakesxwhore · 19 days

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When i saw you dropped the shino fic, i damn near broke my ankle running to read that shit. It’s gold. I love how jealous Shino is, his internal monologues, how much of a goof he is, how he’s already imagining marrying the girl? 😩💦 I hc him as being totally fine with dying alone tbh lol romance isn’t his *thing* per sé but holy shit when little plant girly came tumbling into his life? He regrets ever looking forward to growing old and alone. Him jumping 70 steps ahead in his mind fits the bill perfectly. We love a lovesick dork.

If you’d drop the raunchy part two, I would absolutely die happy. Is it Shino’s first time? Is it gonna be clumsy and sweet and then he gets the hang of it so quickly their neighbors are filing complaints in the morning? (They’re still at it by then lmaooooo) I’m shriveling into a raisin until you post it.

Ever grateful!!!!!! I love your work!!!!!!!!!!

- 🌱anon

i took it upon myself to rewrite this mf because it wasn't up to code - i hope this meets your expectations, thank you for the wonderful request, i had so much fun with it

The Art of Mutual Pleasure

The Art of Mutual Growth (pt. 1)

Pairing: Shino x f!Reader

Summary: Picking up right where we left off, they go back and have a quick little conversation before getting down to business. Shino's quite the quick learner.

W/c: 4.3k (i'm sorry y'all i promise it's mostly smut)

Warnings: Virgin!Shino, Experienced!Reader, them talking about it, jealousy, swearing, oral (m receiving), p in v (i hate that term idk), lil bit of edging, creampie, lmk if I missed anything

Notes: we switched the pov to yours instead of shino's - y'all gotta tell me how i did because smut is not my forté, i'm literally begging (like Shino's about to do)

Masterlist💿

You were so lucky. As Shino's right hand gripped your left thigh, his sturdy forearm supporting you, you thanked every star in the sky for making this moment possible. Never, in your wildest dreams, did you think your silly crush on your neighbour would turn into such a public display.

Fuck, were you ever lucky.

Getting to feel Shino's soft, full lips clumsily move against yours assured you there was something truly good, guiding the universe. You guided the kiss as he walked down the street, too preoccupied with trying to keep you up while going the short distance to the building to give you the kiss you anticipated to come in your apartment. It was finally happening. You had wished he would have been the one to kiss you first, but you felt such courage when you pulled him forward. Now, your enthusiasm lead you, too excited to get into your head.

He was so strong. And his hands were so large. Not the once did Shino falter in his hold on you, but his stride began to stutter as he started to ascend the stairs to your shared floor. Winding up the six flights of stairs to the floor, Shino's foot took an invisible step at the top most and would have dropped you had you not been holding him just as strongly.

In the stumble, Shino bit your lip, scraping against the skin harshly enough to draw a spot of blood. Pulling back, he seemed to take stock of the injury and frowned deeply.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Gently, Shino leaned down and you got the message, reluctantly putting your feet on the ground. Bringing his hand to your jaw, Shino pulled your lip down with his thumb, saying even more remorse, "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean t-"

"Stars above, Shino, you didn't cut off my finger," you laughed, shaking your head out of his grasp before taking his hand and swinging open the door to the hallway. You looked at him, grinning, "C'mon."

Pulling him away as he stuttered an agreement, you marched him down the hallway, pulling your keys out of your pocket with your free hand. There was no struggle for your key this time, as you pulled it out easily, slipped it into the door and popped the lock with a click, all within a moment. You opened the door widely, pulling Shino in behind you as you shut the door behind him.

Immediately, you took the box from him, putting it on the couch before pushed him against the door. Shino let a small whimper escape his lips as you bounced to your toes, pressing your lips to his again. You brushed your tongue against his bottom lip, politely asking for more. The blood from your lip slipped into both of your mouths as Shino hesitantly opened his mouth. In the action, you moved forward to deepen the kiss, but your teeth clashed against Shino's - it was strange. It had to just be a jitter, you thought.

Continuing on, you slipped your tongue into Shino's mouth, eager for him to finally kiss you the way that he had been holding out for so long. But, his tongue met yours oddly, almost too forcefully, yet so very meekly.

You pulled away, pressing another kiss to his lips as you dropped to your feet. Shino's face had a slight sheen, looking at you with his brows knit and his mouth still open. He looked nervous.

It was your fault for coming on too strong. Maybe Shino preferred to take things slow, maybe he was more about passion than vigour. Yeah, that had to be it.

"Do you want anything, my sweet bug boy? A tea, a biscuit...?" You asked slowly, maintaining a sultry tone.

With another quiet whimper, Shino breathlessly replied, "I want you, I need you... I just... I-I'm..."

Placing your arms over Shino's shoulders, your arms together behind his head. Playing with a tuft of his beautiful brown hair with two of your fingers, you looked at him patiently, waiting for him to tell you what he felt he needed to. Shino wasn't very good with words, that much was true, but he would always reach the finish line. Trying not to worry, you kept the idea of what was to come in the forefront of your mind.

"Do you love me romantically, or platonically?" He asked suddenly, giving up on what he was going to say.

You grinned, "I love you, both ways, so much." Popping up on your toes, you pressed a kiss to Shino's cheek.

"If you love me so much, why did you go out to dinner with Kiba?"

It was a fair question, you supposed. But there was something deeper that was bothering Shino, and you started to worry in earnest.

"Kiba and I are friends, you know that."

To your distress, Shino shook his head. "Friends don't go out to dinner with each other, alone."

"We did!" You said, exasperated. Walking further into the apartment, still looking at Shino you went on, "You and I wine and dine all the time, and we were just friends, until a second ago."

"Mhm," he hummed sharply, following you to the kitchen. "I don't know if it's obvious yet, or not, but I've wanted you as more than a friend, the whole time. And Kiba does too, I can tell."

Man, fuck.

You were about to have the best night of your fucking life, but of course, your whorish habits got in the way. Rubbing your face as you got the kettle from the stove, you lamented every man's path you had crossed before Shino's. Men had just become easier to speak to, in your training, in your escapades. You wished that was never the case, that you had been a recluse, saving yourself for this moment.

"I won't go out with him again, okay?" You said, voice wavering as you filled up the kettle under the tap.

Shino just frowned, bringing his hand to his lip to fidget with the plush skin. It made your own frown deepen, feeling a pinch in your heart. Slowly, as if not wanting the answer, Shino asked, "Has he ever asked you out-out before?"

"Yes," you answered honestly. Shino covered his mouth and you couldn't make out his reaction as you put the kettle to the stove, turning it on. "He asked me out to a more romantic dinner, only once, and hasn't asked me again, since."

You had declined Kiba's offer two months ago, hoping that Shino would be the one soon enough. That hope had dwindled some, but you never lost it.

You always wanted Shino, but you were constantly doubting the potential of him seriously wanting you. Maybe you were just close-by, and therefore, the convenient option. The easy option.

Slut.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, leaning over the stove, not facing the man you yearned for.

Not saying a thing, Shino got the silver tea tray out of your cabinet. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, feeling that pinch on your heart morph into a twist and pull. Putting the tray down a counter over, Shino stood behind you, his hot breath fanning down the back of your neck. You were ready to cry, but Shino's rich cadence saved you from the squeeze in your chest.

"I'm not mad... just... jealous."

Turning on your heel, you realized Shino was much closer than you had thought. Lowly, you heard the thrum of his bugs, and your lip twitched to smile before your thoughts bore back down on you.

Slut-slut-slut-slut-slut. Slut. Whore. Can't make girl friends? Why? 'Cause you're a whore. You can't even do right by Shino, the man who helped you discover the realness of the spark. You just love a free meal, don't you? Just love a bit of company, hm? Can't stand to be alone for even an hour? Why? 'Cause you're a slut.

The village bike, that's what people used to call you, back home. It wasn't true, you only ever had five boyfriends, but they all had loose lips. You just wondered how Shino would feel about your nickname, and your head pounded at the idea.

"Petal, please," Shino begged, snapping you out of your thoughts. His expression was so, so sad, which only made you feel worse. You crossed your arms over yourself as Shino put his hands on either side of your face, making you look at him. "I'm sorry, it's okay. I'm not mad."

"You should be," you whispered.

"Was it just a meal?"

"Yeah, but... just... fuck sake, if you're... ugh," you groaned, taking in the fact that you had been going out on platonic dates, in front of Shino, the whole time. You put your forehead on his chest, sinking into him. "I've been torturing you for months, Shino. And, even though I haven't ac-actually been with any of the men from the Hidden Leaf... I... Shino, I'm- I'm not a, erm, a virgin."

Your confession must have come as a shock, because Shino's breath stuttered heavily and a wave of heat rolled off of his body. Just waiting for him to make his decision, to regret ever having touched you, you pressed your head to his chest, trying to get whatever contact you could before he would leave forever.

"Is... it okay that I am?"

You scoffed, "I don't believe you, but, of course, that would be okay. If it were true."

"It is," Shino replied, almost sounding a bit defensive. You looked up at him, to see him looking down at you softly. "Why would I lie about... that?"

A beat of silence passed over the two of you, his hands still on your face. The pad of Shino's right thumb feathered across the apple of your cheek, as if he were afraid that a more impassioned movement would scare you away like a doe. You couldn't help but smile up at Shino, shrugging slightly.

"A better question would be; do you really want me to be your first?" You asked, tone light but still gravely serious.

To your surprise, Shino immediately nodded fervidly. "I want you to be my first everything," he hummed, taking his left hand from your face to hold your waist closer, leaning down. "We'll find something you haven't done, one day."

Capturing your lips with his, Shino kissed you again, and his inexperience became very clear. His zeal supported him majorly, but there was still no clear rhythm to fall into.

So, you made the rhythm. Moving together like puzzle pieces, you guided your lips against Shino's, dominating the kiss in the gentlest way you could. Trying again, your tongue dashed against his bottom lip, and Shino carefully parted his lips and slipped his tongue in your mouth. It caught you off-guard, but you kissed Shino harder, establishing a properly dominant role as your tongues swirled together in a delicious Tango.

"I'm going to take good care of you, beautiful bug boy," you promised him between kisses.

Into your mouth, Shino let a shaky groan fall. You caught it up graciously, moving the kettle off the burner with one hand while the other trailed up his surprisingly muscular arm. Stuttering, you squeezed his bicep and he instinctively flexed against you, making you hum against him.

"Let's get these layers off of you."

As Shino nodded, you unzipped his flak jacket and ran your fingers up his sides, then over his arms to peel off the vest. You cast it to the ground, moving your hands up the black sleeves of his shirt, bumping along the various insignia on the sleeves. Maintaining soft, alluring kisses, you turned your bodies and started backing out of the kitchen.

The goal was your bed, just a few paces through the living room. You would have been fine ripping through the shoji that thinly divided the alcove where your bed lay, but Shino's feet tangled with yours halfway through the open floor of the living room.

You toppled back. Shino tried to catch you, but he was just pulled down with you. Without much thought, you called the vines forward and they caught both you and Shino, dumping you both onto the ground with a softer thud.

Immediately, Shino gasped, "Are you okay?"

"Just fine. Eager," you assured him, drawing as much breath as you could in a few intakes before leaning up and capturing Shino's worried lips.

Grasping his strong shoulders, you brought him down on you harder, feeling a distinct pain in your back that melted into a thrumming heat. You pulled Shino down, to the ground beside you, and moved to straddle his waist, feeling a very large bulge where you sat.

"Stars, you're pretty," Shino sighed, sweeping his hands over your clothed thighs. One stayed while the other curled around your waist, tugging you forward.

Grinding down on him, feeling his bulge growing even larger, you put your hands on either side of his head. Admiring how his hair splayed behind him, you giggled, "You're prettier, Shino."

"Jester. Kiss me."

"Okay, pretty boy." You leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose. "So gorgeous." You kissed his left cheek. "Handsome as anything." You kissed his chin, smiling mischievously as he opened his mouth to finally kiss you again.

"You're cruel," Shino groaned, pulling you down and moving your hip in a slight circle.

Deepening the movement, you rolled your hips forward, and his cock twitched against you, massive and crying for your attention. Shino whimpered beneath you, making an intense warmth spread through your body. Seeing a small portion of Shino's midriff exposed, you touched his chilled skin and dragged your fingers along his bare side, which made Shino shiver. You loved to tease him, he responded so vehemently.

"What's the rush, love bug?" You asked, making Shino's face flame red. You kissed his other cheek, letting your nose touch his as you hovered above him. "You're all mine now, and we have all the time in the world."

"You don't know how long I've wanted to hear those words come from you," he whispered against your lips, leaning forward but not stealing the kiss. "Please, Y/n, I need you. Please."

"Ooh, I like it when you beg," you remarked, elation in your tone. You rolled your hips against him again, making a breathy groan come from Shino. You hummed, creating a steady roll against him, "Tell me what you're thinking, Shino, and I'll give you what you want."

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, you move down slightly to press a myriad kisses along Shino's jaw and neck. Finding his pulse point, you nipped it and Shino gasped, "Fuck, uhm, I'm thinking about... fuck. You. Fucking you. How you'll, hah- say my name. How beautiful you'll sound."

Moving your hands along his ribs, feeling the buzz of Shino's bugs just under his skin. You smiled, touching the bunches as they swarmed near your fingers.

"Ugh, ew, I'm sorry," he said suddenly. You felt the bugs reluctantly start to leave Shino, moving toward your apartment's greenery.

"Hm, I didn't mind," you purred, pulling Shino's shirt up to reveal his creamy torso. Shifting down, you straddled his left as you began pressing gentle kisses to Shino's solid abdomen. You chuckled, "You can relax, sweetheart, you don't need to flex."

"I'm not flexing?" he said as if it were a question.

Cripes, you were tingling. Tracing your tongue over the dips of his muscles, you groaned lowly, letting your hand travel to the massive tent in Shino's pants.

Woah. There was no way his dick was as big as you thought it was. That just wasn't humanly possible.

With every obscene emotion guiding your way, you slowly undid the lacing of Shino's trousers. A steady pulse, and accompanying heat, came from Shino's entire body. His cheeks were still red as he watched you kiss his entire midsection before trailing your lips lower and lower...

"Pop your hips up for a second," you instructed lowly, taking both the waistband of his pants and underwear in your hands. He did and you grinned, tugging down his trousers to reveal his cock. You choked a bit, gasping, "Fucking stars... Hosannah..."

He was so much bigger than you had thought.

Shino's dick was huge. His sheer length was wildly impressive, and his girth was even more delicious. Blue and green hued veins traveled up his shaft, supplying blood to his agitated tip. It was bright red against his milky skin, screaming for your attention. Shino twitched, making his cock bounce against the blotch of dark brown, curly hair that rested above his dick like a halo. You took a sharp breath, mouth watering, positively creaming.

"Is it...?"

"Big? Yes," you cut him off quickly, getting back in the moment. Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you came forward and licked the precum that dribbled from his tip. Shino took a shaky breath as you moaned, "And you taste fucking amazing too."

In circles, your tongue danced around Shino's tip, and you began stroking him slowly with your hand. He groaned as you closed your lips around him and started to suck. You giggled a little and the vibration made Shino put his head back, on the ground, moving side to side. Smiling, you began to bob your head along his cock, taking a bit more every time until he was hitting the back of your throat completely. Shino's hand came to your head, raking his fingers through your hair and collecting it behind your head.

With a deep, gravely voice, Shino groaned, "You're perfect. Perfect."

Looking up at him with lusty eyes, Shino took in the way his hand fisted your hair, bobbing along with you as you fucked him with your mouth. Strings of small curses and little mewls left Shino's lips as you went on, his orgasm impending.

As his hips began to make the slightest thrusts upward, you popped your mouth off of him. Shino's face went from full-relaxation to betrayal, morphing to a frown. He whined, "I was close, why'd you stop?"

"Shhh, I told you I would take care of you," you murmured lowly. As you spoke, you straightened up and pulled your shirt over your head, casting it by the radiator.

Looking back at Shino, his eyes were wider than his glasses, and his mouth agape. You laughed as he smiled at you sheepishly, trying to control his reaction some.

You grinned, "I thought you were mad at me."

Before he could reply, you reached around to your back and unfastened the clasp of your bra, letting it fall down your arms as you watched Shino's reaction carefully.

Immediately, he sat up, cupping your left tit while bringing his face to yours again. You smiled into the kiss, grinding down on Shino's thigh as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple. His kiss had improved dually, and you could relinquish some control to him. Some.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt, you broke the kiss for a second so that you could pull it over his head. Shino instantly started kissing you again, holding you with both hands on your sides as he leaned back down, pulling your clothed heat back over his cock. Your plush chest pressed against his, and Shino pulled you down further. His fingers trailed down your hips and across the backs of your thighs as Shino bunched your skirt up your your waist, leaving you with just your thin, cotton panties on.

Taking his dick in his hand, Shino pressed his tip over your sopping slit, groaning deeply as the feeling of your wetness against his cock. Still engaged in a lip-lock, Shino pressed you down on his cock, making the cotton sink into you a little.

With a giggle, you broke the kiss and straightened your back out. Moving your panties to the side, you took his cock and moved it through your folds, making both of you sigh with pleasure.

Then, you positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly began to slide down. Shino gasped loudly, moaning even more loudly as you sank a little more than halfway. You hummed lowly, trying to take him all, but he was just so fucking big. As you started to bounce gently, Shino groaned and pulled your face down to his, gripping your hip with his other hand. Getting accustomed to your bounce, Shino started to thrust up, into you, making you take even more of his cock.

"You're so fucking big, Shino," you squeaked as his pace quickened.

Shino smiled up at you, his glasses fogged slightly and glinting with the sunset hues from your window. He began to thrust into you with more vigour at your comment, letting the moment guide him.

Your pussy throbbed as Shino took you, and you truly wondered if this was his first time. His cock massaged your walls so perfectly, hitting the perfect spot within you at every-other thrust. Hooking his hips up, he snapped into you at an impressive pace and you took it, biting back legitimate screams.

"Fuck, you're tight."

Pain quickly turned to pleasure as you got somewhat used to his blistering pace and size, allowing you to bounce with him again. Shino moaned lowly, letting his head fall back. He propped his head up up with his right hand as his other squeezed your hip with all his might. Like a prayer, his name fell from your lips as a bundle of nerves accumulated in the pit of your stomach.

Shino's hips began stuttering and slowing, and you took it as your chance to maintain your own quickened pace.

"I'm gonna cum, Petal," he hissed.

"Cum inside of me."

Almost immediately, you felt a squelch within you and could feel just a nice warmth spreading through you. Calling out your name repeatedly, Shino moaned and groaned, whipping his head left to right so handsomely. Lowering yourself down to the hilt, you pursed your lips into a smile and ground down in circles, clenching as tightly as you could. Shino whimpered below you, trying to pull you down for a kiss.

You let him and began bouncing slowly on his cock again, the sound of wetness now very loud. Shino moaned against your lips, making you go faster. He gripped your hips, hard enough to bruise, gasping, "Y/n... I'm so... sensitive. Please."

"Okay," you said lightly. Bringing yourself to his tip, you pulled away from his kiss, then pushed back down, taking him all in a quick movement.

Shino groaned, "Fuck. I love your pussy, fuck."

Holding you aloft again, Shino's hips met yours gently, stuttering every time. Gradually, he forgot about the sensitivity and started pummeling your pussy again.

As his tip kissed your cervix, you purred, scratching his chest, "My pussy is all yours, Shino."

"Mine, forever," he grunted, kissing the angle of your jaw as he pressed your chest against his. "I'm gonna- ah- make those noises come out of you, forever."

"You better, bug boy," you laughed. "Forever."

Shino snapped his hips into you with a renewed vigour as your promise of forever. He fucked into you heavily, moving his hands along the bare flesh of your ass and thighs.

Suddenly, with an arm wrapped around your waist and the other on the ground, Shino stood up. His cock buried itself even deeper in you as he stood, making you cry out his name with a shake to your voice. Shino kissed along your neck as he positioned his arms to bounce you slowly while he walked over to your bed, stepping out of his pants in the process.

Not letting a drop of cum fall from you, he laid you down on your back. Shino looked down at you with a wide smile before taking off his sunglasses for the first time. He cast them aside and neither of you cared to see where they landed as Shino began fucking you again, hitting a whole new angle.

He grasped you by the hips, guiding you to meet his as he repeatedly plunged into you with a force you had never heard of. It was heaven.

Snaking your hand between the two of you, you pulled at your clit, rubbing small circles. Backing your head into the pillow Shino rested you on, you murmured in a salacious lilt, "Shino."

"Again," he demanded, snapping into you with even more strength.

You quickened your pace on your clit, looking into his eyes as you repeated, "Shino. Shino, I love your- mm- cock. Stars, Shino, ugh-"

With his intensity and your toying with your clit, a grand knot formed in your stomach, weaving intricately, sweeping you away. You just kept repeating Shino's darling name, feeling the knot burst.

Waves of pleasure rolled through your body, tensing every muscle periodically. Looking into his kind, sharp brown eyes, you let a gentle moan fall from your lips, still repeating his name, and Shino's hips stuttered in his time, slamming down into you deeply.

He slowed for a moment, feeling your walls fluttering around him, before he resumed his unrhythmic tempo. As you felt another burst of heat within you, Shino stopped, his eyelashes batting closed and groaned, "You're all mine, Y/n - taking all my cum like that, you must really love me."

"I love you so much," you said as Shino thrusted into you a few more times as you both hissed at the overstimulation. "I wanna take your cum forever, love bug. Only yours, all of yours."

"Oh, we're never leaving this bed, if you keep talking like that."

Looking at the man between your legs, you had never felt so seen, admired, and invigorated. You just hoped he felt the same as you kissed him sweetly, imagining how nice it would be if Shino were to be your husband.

#shino aburame #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame smut #aburame shino #aburame shino x reader #shino naruto #naruto shino

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supermanshield · 1 year

Note

superbat fic where theyre trying to wrangle everyones busy schedule? jl meetings, galas, someones birthday dinner, someones recital, theres a lot to account for lol

Oh anon, you know this is my favourite trope for superbat! <3 Thank you for the ask and sorry it took a while, but here it is. And I really let myself go, didn't count the words but it's way more than 100.

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"Tonight?"

"I can't, Damian's teacher wants to speak to me. Again." Bruce sighed and flicked through the calendar on his phone. Almost every day was completely filled with appointments, meetings, league meetings, monitor duty, patrol time. Hmm... "How about Saturday morning?"

"I go running with Lois, you know that. And you probably won't be awake, anyway."

"You could just... start without me."

"Bruce!" The people at the table next to them looked up. Clark shut his mouth and sat back, embarrassed. Bruce went back to his phone. Clark still carried around a paper agenda, for some reason, and flicked through that.

"Saturday evening is Cass' ballet recital...."

"We definitely can't miss that," Clark confirmed. Bruce shook his head in agreement.

"Sunday you've got the annual Zenith Awards and Gala. Hmm."

Clark groaned. "I wouldn’t mind missing that one. Or sneak out during. I don't need to hear Luthor talk all evening."

"As one of the nominees? Clark, no. I'll be there to cheer you on, and protect you from the big bad Lex by talking over him."

Clark chuckled. "You're the best." His face lit up. "Oh. So after, we could sneak out together..."

"Won't do. It'll be too late by then.” He lowered his voice. “and I'll have to go straight to patrol."

"And Monday I've got a late monitor shift. Tuesday Dick's coming over for dinner, Wednesday..."

"Board meeting, you know that."

Clark nodded. "Right. Thursday I promised to help Jon... up north," he said, indicating the direction of the fortress with his eyebrows. He sat back, defeated, staring at his agenda. "So that's it, no time at all this week? Not even a little gap somewhere? I can be quick."

"And that's not always a good thing, Kent." Clark almost choked on his coffee. If he could. "And this is not even counting any..." Bruce looked over at the other table, lowered his volume so only Clark could hear. "Any of the unexpected things we deal with." Clark nodded solemnly, and leaned over the table closer to Bruce. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Supervillains could visit, or break out, or natural disasters could occur. They were used to dropping everything at a moment's notice when they were needed. It was the rest of their lives that were so busy.

"This was to be expected with four full-time jobs and 9 children between us," Bruce concluded, leaning over the table as well, meeting Clark halfway to put his glasses back on his face.

"I can't believe it's come to this already. We have to plan our sex time."

"If you call it sex time again, we might not have to plan it at all anymore, Clark."

Clark couldn't hold back a laugh at that. He brushed some hair out of Bruce's face. His mouth was curved in a genuine smile, a smirk he usually only saw in the bedroom. He still couldn't believe they had finally gotten together, and he was so happy with Bruce in his life, but it was hard sometimes, to keep meeting halfway and around their schedules, between battles and fights and missions, and daily life.

Bruce perked up suddenly, eyes opening wide. "Clark," he said. "What are we doing?"

Clark frowned. "A date? Just two regular guys on a date?"

"And what could we be doing."

A lightbulb came on in Clark's head, but he wasn't convinced yet. "Hey, a date is important too. I don't want our relationship to only consist of quickies in the broom closet."

"I agree," Bruce said hastily, and it warmed Clark's heart. "But we just established that you won't get any of me for at least a week, so I choose sex. Right now. We still have an hour." He stared intently into Clark’s eyes.

"Okay." Clark took a sip of the coffee that they were about to abandon, and held up one finger. "But only if you stay in bed with me after."

“Fine,” Bruce grumbled, but the skip in his heartbeat was unmistakable.

Bruce paid for their coffees quickly, while Clark waited with his jacket by the door. As they left the little café, he could hear the couple that had sat next to them talking over their food.

“Ahh, young love,” the woman mused.

“Dear, those guys were at least in their forties.”

“You have no sense of romance, Derrick.”

Clark smiled, jogging after Bruce into the alleyway to take him home.

#sorry if there are any mistakes i wrote this in an hour just now #superbat #write write #asks #anon #prompts

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captainsophiestark · 7 months

Text

Crisis of Conscience

Grant Ward x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Grant and his girlfriend met after being recruited to Hydra, and have spent the past decade or so in love as double agents at SHIELD. When they both join Coulson's team and Y/N has a crisis of conscience, however, it might put everything at risk.

Word Count: 2,824

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Kind of an ambiguous ending that could be read as fluffy or angsty, but in my head they get their happy ending for sure.

Requested by anon! Hope you like it, this idea was super fun to write!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Y/N's POV

"I'm just saying, if I went on Chopped, I would've learned not to use the ice cream maker by now. Like I would've watched a single episode before this."

I chuckled, smiling from my spot on the loveseat in the Bus's living room as Skye critiqued the Chopped contestants from the couch. After another successful mission with Coulson's team, the Bus 'kids' had crashed in the living room together to watch Chopped and eat foods that were bad for us. I was tucked under the arm of Grant Ward, my long-time boyfriend and friend, who I'd had to drag in here with us.

"It is kind of wild how often people continue to use it when it almost always goes wrong," I agreed. Skye threw her hands up, pointing one of them at me.

"Thank you!"

"I just want to try to make some of these things now," mused Fitz. "It's made me hungry."

Simmons and I hummed in agreement, and then the group of us fell into comfortable silence as the show came back from its commercial break. I could hear Grant's heartbeat through his chest, and the warm safety and comradery of the room put a warm feeling in my chest. I sighed, looking around at each of my friends while they watched the show.

Suddenly, the warmth in my chest turned to a cold, hard knot.

Soon, I'd be expected to betray these people. Like Grant, I'd been recruited by John Garrett a long, long time ago to be a Hydra agent hidden within SHIELD. Never once had I had a doubt, but sitting here with these people and knowing just how much harm might be on the horizon for them sent my stomach roiling.

"I... think I'm gonna call it a night," I said, standing up abruptly. I didn't bother to keep the discomfort off my face, especially as all my friends turned to me with curious looks.

"Is everything okay?" asked Skye. I gave a little shake of my head.

"I just... feel a little sick to my stomach. Probably it's a tiredness thing. I'm just gonna go lay down, I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning."

"Come see me if you don't," said Simmons, her brow creased in worry. I nodded, promising her and saying hasty goodbyes before turning and heading straight for my bunk. I could feel Grant's eyes following me as I went, but I ignored him.

****************

Over the next few days, the little kernel of doubt that had started in the back of my brain took root. Every time I interacted with any of the team, it grew, leaving me overwhelmed with guilt for the moment I knew was coming, when I'd be asked to betray these people I'd come to love. Especially as we sought the Clairvoyant, the mystical person putting our team at risk, and Grant and I both knew full well that the person in question was John Garrett.

I'd continued to do my job through bullet wounds, freezing temperatures, broken bones, and just about every other hurtle imaginable. But after a few days of fighting through the guilt, I just couldn't stomach it anymore.

"Hey, Grant? Do you have a sec?"

Grant raised an eyebrow, immediately stepping away from the direction he'd been heading to step closer to me, concern written on his face. We knew each other well enough and had been together long enough that he'd definitely noticed something was wrong with me.

"Everything okay?"

"It's just... I don't know Grant, do you ever... wonder if we're doing the right thing? With... uh..."

"You don't have to say it," he said. I bit my lip and nodded, trying to read something in his face. He still looked concerned, mostly for me, which didn't tell me much about how he felt about what I was saying.

"Well... what do you think? I mean, I can't imagine after everything we've been through with this team... just leaving them out to dry."

"I understand how you're feeling," he said, reaching out to take my hand in his. My heart leapt for a second, then dropped all over again as he continued. "But we have to remember what we're doing this for. John Garrett picked us. He pulled us out of terrible situations and gave us the chance nobody else would give us. We owe him. We can't turn on him now."

"Right. Of course, yeah, right." I plastered a shaky smile onto my face and met Grant's eyes. He still didn't look totally convinced, but I leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he could question me. "C'mon, we better get back before they wonder where we went."

"Are you-"

"I'm fine, Grant. Just a little late-game nerves. But I'm fine."

He nodded, looking at least a little more convinced, and we continued through the bowels of the Bus to join our team in the lab. I tried to smile and pretend like everything was normal, but the pit in my stomach had turned into a black hole. For Grant, Garrett had saved his life. He felt loyalty to the man, if not to the cause. But for me? Garrett had recruited me from a less than ideal situation, sure. But he'd sold me on the idea of Hydra, which suddenly looked more like a rotten apple than anything else. I had no personal loyalty to him.

Unfortunately, I did have a lot of personal loyalty to Grant. I spent hours laying awake at night, agonizing over the position I'd gotten myself into, between my boyfriend and best friend and love of my life against every single other person I cared about. I tried to ignore it or push away the worries, to try to convince myself to just ignore the thing telling me to do something, but I just couldn't. Grant clearly wasn't willing to betray Garrett, and I wasn't willing to betray Grant. But I could still do something to warn our team.

Subtly, anonymously, using every skill I'd ever learned as a SHIELD or double agent, I managed to leave enough information with Coulson that he put it together. He didn't waste a single second before telling the rest of the team, and we set up an ambush for Garrett to get him once and for all.

The hardest thing I'd done in my entire life was lying to Grant's face when he pulled me aside, shocked and worried, to try to come up with a plan with me. He'd never asked me if I'd been the one to share the information, because he trusted me. It sent new pangs of horror roiling around in my stomach, but this time I didn't let it get to me. I could tell Grant what I'd done once Garrett was safely in jail, and then we could see if he could forgive me for it.

Unfortunately for me, I never got the chance to have that conversation with Grant. Somehow, Garrett managed to slip through the trap Coulson had laid. His cover was blown, which made him much less of a threat than he'd been before, but he was still out there. The whole team had landed and taken a temporary pause to figure out our next moves when Grant and I got identical texts.

"Garrett's calling us to meet up with him," muttered Grant, sidling up next to me out of earshot of the rest of the team. I nodded.

"What do we do?"

"We have to go to him. He probably needs our help dealing with this mess."

I nodded again, my brain working through all of my possible options. I could just share the text with Coulson, but somehow, that felt like a bigger betrayal than just giving them hints about Garrett. Probably since it would involve Grant, too. And even if he'd never forgive me for what I'd already done, I knew I'd still follow him to the ends of the Earth.

"Should we make up something to tell the team? Or should we just go?" I asked.

We ended up making a quick, somewhat thin excuse to the team, then rushed to where Garrett waited for us. We found him in a beaten-down, empty warehouse, waiting for us with his arms crossed in the back of the space. My heart leapt into my throat, but I kept my face carefully neutral as Grant and I came to a stop before him, side by side.

"Do either of you know why I've called you here?" asked Garrett, not bothering with a hello. His voice had a dangerous edge to it that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; every instinct I'd honed over the course of years screamed danger.

"To try to deal with SHIELD figuring out who you are," said Grant, with the confidence of somebody who hadn't betrayed the man before us. Garrett scoffed.

"I guess that's technically true. But there was no way for them to find out. There was no way for Coulson and his team to get that information about me, to act with such certainty, as early as they did. At least, there shouldn't have been a way."

His hand wandered to his hip, and he unholstered his gun, holding it lightly in his hand as he considered it for a few moments. He looked back at me and Grant.

"There were only two people with the knowledge and the opportunity to out me. I know it was one of you. So one of you is going to tell me who did it, or I'm just gonna cut my losses and shoot you both."

Like the slow motion part of a movie, I saw Grant turn to me out of the corner of my eye. I took a deep breath before facing him, trying to express just how sorry I was without words. Hurt, shock, betrayal, and disbelief all played out across his face, his brow furrowed, his mouth slightly open. All of it felt like a knife to the heart, a sensation I'd likely experience for real in the next few minutes. I mouthed 'I'm sorry', willing him to believe it, then turned back to face John Garrett.

****************

Grant's POV

My heart stopped as I looked at the woman I loved and realization crashed over me at what she'd done. I knew she hadn't been satisfied after our conversation in the hallway, but I'd convinced myself not to follow up on it. A stupid, stupid decision.

She met my eyes, John still hovering just past us with his gun in hand, and a fear I hadn't felt since I was a kid took root in my stomach. Garrett had warned me, time and time again, and especially when I'd started dating a fellow double agent, that I couldn't trust anybody. My family had proven that from day one, and Garrett had been the only one to consistently be there for me. Now, Y/N had betrayed me like everyone else, and I could see on her face that she was going to do it again.

She mouthed 'I'm sorry' and turned back to John, and I got ready to defend myself after she tried to make me take the fall.

Then, she spoke.

"I did it."

I couldn't believe it. She'd owned up to it, knowing full well Garrett would most likely kill her. She was literally willing to take a bullet for me. A vice tightened in my chest.

****************

Y/N's POV

"I did it."

I spoke the words with a clear confidence I didn't feel at all as I looked Garrett dead in the eye. If I had one thing still guiding my decisions in the wake of everything that had happened and that I'd caused, it was a desire to protect Grant. I loved him, and no matter what else came of this, I didn't want him to take the fall for me.

The silence hung, Garrett staring me down. The hand he held the gun with twitched, and I braced myself to run or fight or I don't know what else, but Grant's voice rang out before Garrett or I could make another move.

"No, I did it."

I whipped around to look at him, and this time it was my turn for wide eyes and a mouth open in shock. Grant didn't look away from Garrett to me, even though I knew he knew I was staring at him.

"Grant, no. You didn't. I did it, and I didn't tell you anything about it."

"No, I-"

He stopped short when Garrett held up a hand, the one without the gun, to stop us both.

"No Ward, you didn't do it. Everyone in this room knows it wasn't you." Garrett strolled the short distance between him and Ward, effectively turning the field so he and Grant stood shoulder to shoulder against me. "But clearly it is a weakness for you."

Grant's eyes widened ever so slightly, and I knew him well enough to recognize it as fear. I shifted on my feet, no idea what to do anymore. Grant seemed to feel the same way as Garrett tapped the gun on Grant's hip.

"Weaknesses have to be weeded out, Ward. Take care of her."

Garrett and Grant both kept their eyes on me, and I could see sweat coming down Grant's face as he slowly reached towards his holster and pulled out his gun. With him and Garrett both armed, I didn't stand much of a chance, even if I was willing to shoot Grant.

As the man I loved raised his weapon, I blocked out Garrett completely. I met his warm brown eyes with my own, silently willing him to ditch Garrett, to choose me like I'd chosen him. My heart pounded in my chest, and in a split second everything changed.

I heard a shot and felt pain explode in my stomach as Grant moved at lightning speed. A moment later, as I sank to the ground, I realized he'd turned to face Garrett. He'd shot his old mentor in the chest, for me, but Garrett had managed to get a shot off before he went down. I brought my hand up to my stomach and touched something warm and wet before the hard concrete of the floor bit into my knees.

"No!" Grant cried, rushing over to me. I screwed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain as he wrapped me in his arms. "Hey, stay with me, alright? Stay with me."

"Grant... you... you shot Garrett."

He grimaced, then tried to fight the expression off his face a moment later. He brushed a strand of hair back out of my face.

"The alternative was shooting you. John may have gotten me out of hell, but you were the first one to make me care about staying here in a long time."

I couldn't quite hold back a choked sob, which sent a flash of panic shooting across Grant's face. Still holding me with one hand, he reached into his pocket with the other and dug out his phone.

"Everything's going to be alright," he said, his voice taking on the calm assuredness we needed for missions. "I'm gonna call Coulson, and when they get here, they're going to help me take care of you. You're going to be alright."

I nodded, turning my head as Grant dialed to look at Garrett. He was splayed out on the floor a few feet away from us, the life clearly gone from his body. I refused to join him.

"They're on their way," Grant announced, setting down his phone once the call ended. "They'll be here soon."

"What did you tell them? About us? What we did?"

"Not a lot, but I'm sure we'll have to explain everything once they get here and you're stabilized."

I nodded. "Grant, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you, for going behind your back, I just couldn't let our friends get hurt-"

"Shh, it's okay. I get it, alright? I do. We'll talk more about it when you're on your feet again."

"I think you should tell them you were part of it," I continued, forcing the breath out. My vision had started getting darker, and I could feel my consciousness slipping, but I didn't want to be saved only to lose Grant after doing so much to try to save everyone else. "Tell the team you helped me tip them off, that we did it together. Make up whatever lie works but... I don't want to lose you..."

He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on my forehead as the last of my consciousness drifted away. The last thing I heard before everything went black was Grant, his voice low and whispered, echoing after me as I went.

"Don't worry. You could never lose me."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @luv-ghostie @songbirdcannabe @infinetlyforgotten

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iliveiloveiwrite · 2 years

Text

Here When You Wake // Eddie Munson

Request: I was wondering if you could write an eddie munson with the fluff prompt “don't worry, I'll be here when you're awake.” when the reader finds eddie ,, n he hasn’t been to sleep because he’s traumatized and scared so the reader says that with him to help him get some rest - anon

A/N: This request made me so soft. Thank you so much for taking part in my celebration! I adored writing this so much. I just hope you like!

Warnings: s4 spoilers, so much fluff, beginnings of pining, nightmares, sleeping, dialogue heavy.

Word count: 1.5k

Italicised excerpt: Jude Deveraux - Velvet Promise

There was no explaining the relief that spread through your chest when you found Eddie alive and unharmed, hiding in the boathouse of his supplier out by Lover’s Lake. Clearly exhausted and terrified, he was still in one piece.

It was a sweet reunion for Dustin; happy to see his friend as safe as he could be. Yet, you couldn’t ignore the anxious undercurrent that ran through the atmosphere. Anxiety that was brought to ahead when sirens were heard in the distance.

“Hide Eddie!”

At Dustin’s warning, Eddie ducks under the blue tarpaulin. Sirens rush past the boathouse; police cars and ambulances speeding up the road. An unspoken agreement rang through the group. Steve led the way, standing first, followed quickly by Robin and Dustin.

“You aren’t just leaving me here?” Eddie splutters in disbelief, sitting up in the boat. “Alone?”

“We have to check out the sirens,” Steve argues, already making his way to the door. “We have to figure out what’s happening here.”

“But do you all need to go?”

There’s a pause before Steve nods. “Guess not. Who’s staying behind?”

“I will,” You answer, stepping forward, flashing a calm smile towards Eddie. “Dustin and Max will keep me informed. They always do.”

“Alright,” Steve nods, not wholly happy with the idea but lacking the effort to argue further. “We shouldn’t be too long.”

They leave in a hurry, wanting to get to the scene of the sirens before the news vans and reporters descend. As Steve’s car speeds up the drive, you get your first good look at Eddie.

He’s a wreck. A tremor in his hands that he’s trying his best to hide. Dark circles line his eyes from where he hasn’t slept or has slept but woken up from nightmares. You can see the clear fear and worry in his brown eyes; constantly having to check over his shoulder and flinching at every loud sound.

You drop down next to Eddie in his makeshift hideout. The boat creaks with age, protesting as you throw the blue tarpaulin over the side. Eddie doesn’t comment but he watches you warily. With a winning smile, you address the falsely accused brunette. “What? I had to make room.”

“For what?”

“When was the last time you slept, Eddie?”

He freezes in place, thinking back to his last peaceful night. “A full night’s sleep? The night before Chrissy.”

“Oh Eddie…”

“I’ve had an hour here and there,” He murmurs, running a hand over his face, looking so dog-tired. “But then I hear a siren, or I hear Chrissy’s bones snap and I wake up terrified.”

“That settles it then,” You declare, offering no further explanation. Reaching into your bag, you pull out two items. A much beloved and battered paperback, and your favourite cardigan.

Amused and curious, Eddie eyes the two items. “Do you always carry a book with you?”

“Yes,” You answer as if carrying a book around with you was something out of the ordinary.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks as he watches you fight with the buttons of the patterned cardigan.

“Making you a pillow,” You reply. You fold the cardigan into something that resembles a pillow. You place it onto your lap, explaining to the metalhead, “It’s a lot comfier than the floor of a boat.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Eddie hesitates; brown eyes flashing between your lap and your face. “What are you going to do if I sleep?”

You shrug. “Keep watch. Read my book.”

He continues to hesitate. You reach out and grab his hand, “Eddie, you’ve had a rough few nights. Whether you sleep or lie with your eyes closed, it’s up to you but I’m not going anywhere.”

Your words spur something in the metalhead. He shifts, lying down with his head in your lap. You smile down at him, “Everything okay?”

He nods. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Will you read to me? It might keep my mind away from Chrissy.”

“Yes, I’ll read to you but don’t judge my taste in books. I’ll have you know this particular book is a classic.”

An unexpected burst of laughter leaves Eddie; a handsome smile spreading across his face as he promises to do no such thing. The sight of such a smile leaves you momentarily stunned, reaching for your book silently.

Clearing your throat, you flip to the first page in the paperback that you’re confident you could recite word for word. Eddie sighs, eyes slipping closed with his arms crossed against his chest.

“The moon cast long shadows over the old stone tower which rose three stories high and seemed to scowl down, in a tired way, at the broken and crumbling wall that surrounded it…”

You channel Jude Deveraux’s words, letting them wash over the both of you. Halfway through chapter two, Eddie’s breathing slows, the tension leaving his face. Light snores fall from his lips; the sight entirely too endearing for you to handle so you return to your book, reading silently to yourself.

You find it hard to completely focus on the plot of the book in your hands. Despite knowing it word for word, your eyes slip to the sleeping brunette in your lap. His chest rises and falls steadily; his mouth slightly parted as breathy snores leave his lips. Warmth stirs in your chest as you watch him; a feeling that had occurred more than once when talking to the metalhead.

Forcing yourself to read the book in your hands, you’ve barely begun chapter six when Eddie begins fussing. It starts with small whimpers before the word ‘no’ leaves his mouth far more than it should.

Eddie wakes with a start, forcing himself to consciousness when his dreams turned to nightmares. Breathing heavily, his heartbeat only starts to calm when he spots you sitting beside him.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hey Eddie,” You whisper, “You good?”

He ignores the question in favour for asking another. “How long was I asleep?”

You check the watch sat on your left wrist. “Just under an hour.”

Eddie nods as if he were expecting this answer. You pat his shoulder comfortingly, “Think you could sleep some more?”

Eddie nods again, settling back down with his head on your lap. “Will you read some more? I never took you as someone who enjoyed reading steamy romances.”

You laugh; the action coming far too easily in his presence. “It’s clear you don’t know me that well then, Eddie Munson.”

“I’ll have to fix that.”

“Yes, you will.”

There’s a pause; a charge of something else before you pick up from where you left off. The words flow easily from you, Eddie getting lost in the rise and fall of your voice. He can feel sleep waiting to claim him, but he fights against it. He fights and he fights until you place a hand on his, gripping his fingers.

“Don’t worry,” You murmur, pausing your recitation of the 1981 romance. “I’ll be here when you’re awake.”

At your words, Eddie holds your hand that little bit tighter, finally falling asleep.

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

By the time the others land back at the boathouse, Eddie remains peacefully asleep, his face hidden in the stomach of your t-shirt. Dustin finds you, loudly announcing his arrival to which you shush him silent whilst pointing at your lap with your free hand.

A satisfied smirk grows on Dustin’s face as he waves everyone over. “Dustin,” You warn, “Whisper! You aren’t waking Eddie up.”

“Why is Eddie asleep in your lap?” Steve asks, frowning.

“He hasn’t slept in days and my lap is comfier than the floor of the boat.”

Satisfied with your answer, all but Dustin wander away, thinking about their next steps with whatever they found out. “What?” You hiss at the teenager.

Dustin shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Dustin Henderson, I will burn your entire comic collection.”

“No need for violence,” Dustin laughs, “He has a crush on you, you know? Told me at Hellfire the other week.”

You ignore Dustin’s words, feeling the familiar burn of hope in your chest and flush in your cheeks. Glancing down at the sleeping metalhead in your lap, Eddie keeps a firm hold on your hand as he snores into your stomach. A fond smile grows on your face as you ignore the racing of your heart.

“I see the feeling is mutual,” Dustin crows victoriously, a large smile on his face.

“Dustin!” You whisper-yell, “Bugger off before you wake Eddie up.”

Dustin wanders away, arguing with Steve as he sits down next to his idol. Eddie shifts in your lap. “Doesn’t matter,” he announces, “I’m awake.”

“Oh,” You croak, clearing your throat. “I’m sorry if we woke you.”

“Don’t apologise,” Eddie smiles, “That was the best sleep I’ve had in days.”

You snort, amused at his words. “I told you so,” You smile confidently, “I was here when you woke.”

Eddie laughs; the sound music to your ears. “That you did.” Eddie pauses, looking over to the group that were doing their best not to stare. He drops his voice to a whisper, leaning in to you. “Perhaps you’d like to read more of that book to me? I mean… after everything is over.”

You cut him off before he can begin rambling, kissing his cheek quickly. “I want nothing more.”

*******

Stranger Things taglist: @neptunes-curse

Eddie Munson taglist: @magicalxdaydream @tellmehows @thesuncitysworld

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic

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alarrytale · 2 months

Note

So since the newest So be it denial got literally to every big pop culture servers and even to european tabloids - there’s no way this wasn’t consulted and agreed with H’s team (I doubt his previous Chickengate denial got this far since there was no mention of H’s name). But I’m still questioning why this all happend literally out of nowhere? Why, oh, whyyy? There’s hardly any mention about L’s music or his festival tour so it’s pure gossip. And because this affect H’s image as well so Louis had to have his agreement and they had to consultate it. The only “time will tell” I would love to happen would be if H will drop something extra gay and larrycoded so Louis covered him in advance. But I’m also skeptical that we will get something like Adore You 2.0 🫤

Hi, anon!

Parmageddon was pretty widespread too. I saw someone say it wasn't covered in Norwegian tabloids, but it was. But parmageddon didn’t give us the larry lovebite on ITV, manips on PageSix or the Euphoria larry scene almost shown in full on american TV. This is different. Larry has been trending for four days now on twitter and this got widespread attention. There is no mention of his tour or music, it's all about larry. Many of the articles contains manips or cute larry pics that negates the denial in the text. So it's suspicious.

I'm kind of just biding my time and waiting for the interview dropping tomorrow, which promises no holds barred. I hope that interview will tell us something about where all this is going. If it's not, then my eyes will be on Harry.

#larry denials #so be it #larry presscoverage

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teaveetamer · 11 months

Text

Hey guys so full transparency here because it seems things have blown up a bit while I've had my anons off and I've been doing other stuff.

Myself and some other people from Tumblr have been in direct communication with the mods of the Edelgard discord server over the past few weeks. We have been trying to hash out an agreement that everyone can come away happy with.

We asked them to please stop letting members of their server talk about us, link, quote, etc. our posts there, and in exchange we promised that we would do our best to stop people here from posting screenshots of their server.

This was done because nobody wants harassment or for things to continue escalating like how they have been. The best solution for that is to talk to each other and come to an understanding.

We also requested that they keep an eye on certain members of their server who have been lightning rods for the harassment, such as Raxis and Diaphin, and try to talk to them/potentially ban them if it became clear that their actions were causing friction.

This has been the agreement for the last few weeks.

When Raxis made his post about BWIIDT, Nilsh responded under the impression that the agreement had been broken. The mods of the server got in touch with us pretty quickly, and we asked Nilsh to take the screenshots down. We also had a long discussion with the mods about the things that were in the screenshots to try and come to an understanding about why many of us were so upset by them. We thought the situation was handled, but then Raxis made another post about one of Nilsh's old posts after Nilsh had already taken the screenshots down per our agreement.

This understandably led to some confusion and frustration on Nilsh's part, as the mods and us had stopped talking for the night and we did not know what they had done with regard to Raxis and the situation. Nilsh took the frustrated post down as soon as we were made aware of it and we talked to him about what was going on. We also talked with the mods about it. They have told us that they have taken action, and Raxis is no longer in their server because of his actions.

I would have never requested that the mods take action against him if I didn't think it was causing massive problems for both their server and the people who have been harassed by him. If he wants to call that blackmail then I suppose I can't stop him, but I think it's unfortunate that he can't see how his own actions have led to this.

I really, really hope that he can step away for a while, heal, and when he's ready to stop the harassment and stalking, then I hope he can be welcomed back into their community with full forgiveness and a healthier mindset.

I also want to be clear that I'm not trying to excuse what Nilsh did or apologize on his behalf, but I have spoken with him about it. He is taking a break from social media for a while to decompress and calm down. I asked if it was okay for me to talk about this, considering Raxis's current escalation, so I could clear up any confusion.

I didn't plan on doing this so soon, but I'm going to open anons again in case anyone has questions for me and they don't feel comfortable talking on main.

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bettathanyou · 10 months

Note

Hello, I’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not, but if so can we please get reader meeting Cedric’s parents for the first time? If you’re not taking requests i apologize.

Thank u for the request anon, this is quite the juicy prompt. Ironically I have an angst fic that's part of my slow burn Cedric fanfic series in my drafts that's exactly this LOL.

But for everyone's sake this will be wholesome. (This time lmao)

Also, my requests are always open so if you ever need more Cedric + reader content I'm your fish! 🐟

Enjoy <3

The early morning sun creeped through the crack between the curtains, the rich golden rays covering the wall of Cedric's workshop in a honey glow.

It made your tired eyes sting even further.

You let out a low groan of frustration, covering yourself in the blankets to shield you. You turn over, back to Cedric; your partner, who was still snoring gently next to you.

Even though your eyes felt itchy and dry from the prior sleepless night, your gaze can't help but soften at how adorable he looked.

His normally neatly combed hair was sticking out in all directions, which is no surprise as you found out quickly that he's a restless sleeper.

You delicately tuck a few unruly tufts of hair back into its rightful place, your eyes scanning Cedric's resting form.

His dark green undershirt contrasts greatly with his fair skin, which peeks out from the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.

Biting back a laugh, you plant a gentle kiss on Cedric's exposed collarbone.

Cedric's eyes flutter for a second, slowly opening as he mumbles something incoherent in his sleep driven state.

"Good morning to you too...?" You croaked, your voice more hoarse than you expected. You try to ignore it, but you knew Cedric wouldn't miss any detail when it came to you.

His body snaps from sluggish to alert in seconds. His props himself up with his elbow, his eyes immediately locking with yours.

"...Are you alright, darling?" Cedric asks, his amber eyes full of concern. You can see the cogs already turning in his head, but you quickly brush it off.

"It's too early for you to worry about things right now," you start, your hand finding his. Cedric says nothing, his gaze still searching you for answers.

With a small sigh, you relent and answer honestly.

"I'm fine, I promise. I just... Didn't get much sleep. It's a big day today, after all." You flash Cedric a nervous smile, and you watch the realization dawn on him.

"You're meeting my parents today..." Cedric trails off, his hand squeezing yours in comfort.

You nod in agreement, your eyes resting on Cedric's fingers that intertwine with yours. His thumb rubs against your knuckles in an attempt to soothe you, and you let out a sigh in contentment.

"I understand why you'd be nervous-" Cedric began, and you quickly cut him off.

"Yes- they're your parents, Ceddy. And their track record is not much better than mine." You eye him with a knowing smirk, and he scoffs in laughter.

"That's true; however, I feel like I must point out that your parents are much worse than mine." Cedric replies, eyeing you back.

Now it was your turn to laugh, raising your hand in surrender.

"True... but at least you'll never have to meet them." You shrugged, turning on your back as you stare at the ceiling in contemplation.

You can still feel Cedric's eyes on you, and you glance over at him. You couldn't quite tell the expression he wore, and it bugged you. You try not to squirm under his bright amber pools, but you knew it was futile to hide your discomfort.

Cedric suddenly shifts his body, inching more towards you. You react instantly, shuffling towards him lazily as you both entangle your bodies together. You both wrap your arms around each other, and Cedric's hands rub your back in soothing motions.

"I know today is going to be alot- so I understand why you're scared." Cedric reiterated, his voice low in your ear.

"I'm terrified, honestly." You confess, rubbing your face into his shoulder.

"I promise, they'll love you (y/n). If anything, meeting you is their dream come true!" Cedric's voice betrayed a smile, and you knew that if Cedric was able to speak confidently then you could trust his words.

Even so, the pit in your stomach still refused to calm itself. You let out another dread filled sigh, and you push your face away from Cedric's skin. Lifting your eyes to cautiously meet his own, you ask him the question that's been burning on your tongue.

"It's not that I don't believe you, but... What if I don't... Meet their expectations?" You say in a small voice, immediately breaking eye contact to fiddle with Cedric's loose collar.

Cedric snickers in response, but you knew it was in jest.

"Darling, that's what I'm saying- they had no expectations for me ever finding love..." Cedric trailed off, a slightly jaded undertone in his words.

"...And honestly, neither did I." Cedric adds softly, and you feel familiar lips graze your forehead.

You immediately feel the heat rush to your cheeks at his gesture, and you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek in return.

Cedric flashes you a dopey grin, silver locks falling in his golden eyes, and you feel your heart warm at the sight.

Without realizing it, you find a grin of your own stretching across your face.

"If you're worried about them holding you to the standards they set for me, I'm happy to tell you that's not possible. I'm not exaggerating at all when I say that you are everything they could ever ask for." Cedric proclaimed boldly, his hand cupping your chin so your eyes couldn't escape his own.

As you locked eyes, you realize that there was no hesitation or doubt laced in them. With no words left to dispute him, you're left speechless and caught in his gaze. Your eyes begin to shift around to Cedric's facial features you've already memorized, unabashedly drinking him in.

While Cedric was doing the same thing, he quickly tutted in disapproval.

"Ah, ah! Behave, you scoundrel. You should be resting those lovely (e/c) eyes of yours." Cedric scolded you, half jokingly.

"With you around, I'm not so sure about that." You smile cheekily, and you see the red blossom across Cedric's cheeks. He begins to choke on his words, earning a chuckle from you at his plight.

"W-Well, that's. I'm lo-looking out for your health!" Cedric squeaks out, and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing any more.

"You should really try to catch up on some sleep, (y/n)." Cedric repeats, his voice holding more conviction this time.

You knew that Cedric was right, and with your anxiety quelled for now, your body was now protesting for sleep to come.

"Alright... But you'll need to wake me up." You relented, already settling back into the plush mattress.

"Of course." Cedric nods dutifully, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders.

You close your eyes soon after, the weight of sleep pulling you into unconsciousness.

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

Later That Day...

Standing straight as a pin, you wait with bated breath besides Cedric as he knocks on the door to his parents home.

You didn't know much about Mystic Meadows, except the last minute details Cedric filled you in on. Apparently, it was a retirement community for retired sorcerers and sorceresses alike, all of them well renowned. Cedric mentioned his parents being particularly popular, which came to no surprise to you; Goodwyn, Cedric's father, being the right hand of the late King is sure to make you popular.

If anything, it just adds to the pressure weighing on you.

Looking around, you see a couple of lone elderly sorcerer's hobbling down the cobbled path to the main building. Your mouth quirks up into a small smile, seeing the banter between the two.

You're broken out of your trance by hearing footsteps shuffle behind the door in front of you.

Your eyes dart to meet Cedric's, expecting him to be as nervous as you feel. However, his gaze holds you steady- his amber eyes warm and lingering.

With your eyes locked in his stare, your anxiety quickly deflates. The relief doesn't last, however; you suddenly feel self conscious about how nervous you were previously acting. Your cheeks begin to light up like hot coals, and without a word you break eye contact.

You feel Cedric's eyes still on you, but you keep your eyes glued to the wooden door inches in front of you. The noise from inside grew louder- Cedric's parents would open the door any minute.

Heart thumping, you feel your skin flush even more. You almost don't notice Cedric's hand slinking into your own, but the familiar feeling of worn leather gloves against your finger pads brings you relief.

You exhale sharply, just as the door opens. You're welcomed by a stout woman with dark curly hair, cat-like eyes, and a strong nose. She was wearing an expensive looking blue gown adorned with glittering jewels, accented with a long necklace of pearls. The resemblance between her and Cedric were uncanny, and it amazed you at how much of the physical features you love about Cedric came from his mother.

This was Cedric's mother, "Winnifred the Wise" as her title goes. You strain to keep eye contact with the woman as you stand awkwardly.

"Hello, Mrs. Winnifred. It's nice to finally meet you." You flash her a strained smile, bowing your head slightly in respect.

"Oh goodness, I think we're already past formalities! Winnifred will do just fine." The older woman laughs warmly, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Ah- of course. Sorry." You glance away sheepishly, tucking your hands behind you.

Winnifred chuckles, then turns towards Cedric with shining eyes.

"My darling Ceddykins, Mummy misses you so much...!" She cooed lovingly, quickly wrapping her arms around Cedric's lean frame. Cedric returns the gesture, bending down to meet his mother's embrace.

You stand to the side, a toothy grin stretching across your face at Cedric's pet name. His eyes flick to yours, and your smile only grows. Cedric raises a brow as if to challenge you to comment, and you wave him off with a chuckle.

"Yes mummy, it's good to see you too," Cedric mumbles into his mother's shoulder, gently letting go of her. His back straightens, amber eyes landing on the entrance to his parents home.

"Where's father, mum?" Cedric questions, his gaze fixed inside the house.

"Oh! He's in the back, finishing up (y/n)'s gift!" Winnifred turns towards you with bright eyes, her hands reaching to clasp yours. "Goodwyn told me to keep you two busy until he was done," Winnifred said with a wink, her lips twisting into a mysterious smirk.

"Oh, thank you so much...!" The words clumsily tumble from your lips, betraying the shock you felt at the kind gesture. You stare at Winnifred with widened eyes, unsure of what to say next.

Winnifred smiles at you kindly, then laughs.

"Don't thank us just yet, (y/n). This is only the beginning, darling." She states with a firm squeeze of your hands, her eyes boring into yours. You felt your heart warm from her hospitality, and without a word you squeezed her hands in return.

Winnifred then broke away, gesturing for the both of you to come inside her home. She chatters away to Cedric about recent events, the two of them catching up since they last spoke. You all sat down on the plush furniture of the living room, with Cedric's mother claiming a well worn chair, across from you and Cedric on the loveseat.

You were quite fine with the arrangement, as the idea of talking to Cedric's parents still intimidated you. Sitting down and observing was well within your comfort zone, and the banter between the two was entertaining on its own.

"Mummy, as much as I appreciate the thought, I am a grown man-" Cedric enunciated, exhaling sharply as his fingers pressed into his temple. You chuckled lowly, curiosity edging you to tune into their conversation again.

"No mother will ever see their child as grown, Ceddy." Winnifred gives Cedric a pointed look, leaning her weight on her hip. Cedric huffs in response, laughing dryly. Winnifred's face softens a little, and she walks up to pinch Cedric's cheek affectionately.

"You'll know what I mean once you have some children of your own." Cedric's mother says with a knowing smirk, her eyes shifting over to you. You almost flinch from the eye contact, and you scramble to form any response to her implications.

"Oh- we haven't... Planned on that, yet." You mumble, running your hand through your hair nervously. In fact, you and Cedric had both agreed that children weren't *in the plan* whatsoever. Even so, stating that towards eager in-laws on your first meeting made your head spin and your palms slick with sweat. Your eyes tear away from Winnifred's gaze, darting to Cedric's in a silent plea for help.

Cedric was already alert, his hand instinctively resting on the small of your back for support. The heat from his fingers seeped into your flesh, keeping you grounded as your heart stills. You turn your head to give him a thankful look, and Cedric glanced over you with a ghost of a smile.

Turning towards his mother, he tutted as if she were a child being scolded.

"Sorry mother, you know the rules. Every time you ask, we'll add another 5 years!" Cedric threatened his mother in a cheery voice, yet his eyes were cold and serious.

Winnifred scoffed in protest, crossing her arms over her chest. The two exchanged hard looks, a silent argument being fought with their eyes alone. You glanced over to catch Cedric's eye, but you found them to be unwavering against his mother. You felt an immense wave of gratitude wash over you at Cedric's resolve, and your hand quietly slipped into his own with a reassuring squeeze.

Just as the tension was boiling over, a loud ding! made everyone nearly jump out of their skins. Winnifred's eyes glazed over in confusion, then widened in recognition.

"The cake- I completely forgot!" She rushes over to the kitchen, her wand already up in the air. You slowly let out the breath you didn't know you were holding, feeling your body deflate a little bit.

You wearily look over to Cedric again, wearing an equally tired expression. Without thinking, you nudge him gently. His body immediately snaps over to give you his full attention, his eyes lighting up upon resting on you.

"...Thank you, luv." You murmur, eyes softening as you stare into his amber pools. You wish you could say more, but you can only hope Cedric understands the full extent of your thanks with what you left unspoken.

"Of course, darling." Cedric gives you a knowing wink, leaning over so his cheek was pressed up against yours. You nuzzled your face closer to his, your lips barely brushing against Cedric's warm skin. You felt him flush, and a smile carved its way on your face.

Before you could readjust to properly kiss him, however, Winnifred both called you over.

"Alright (y/n), I need your help darling! And you too, Ceddykins!" Winnifred exclaimed, standing expectantly beside the kitchen counter.

You both glanced at each other incredulously, but slowly got up and shuffled towards the overpowering sweet smell of the cake. The dessert had just come out of the oven, steam wafting from the golden baked good.

Your eyes expertly scanned the cake, noting that it was well made and smelled as good as it looked.

"How can we help?" You asked, doubtful that you or Cedric would be able to help when it was clear his mother knew what she was doing. Her eyes meet yours, addressing you with an excited voice.

"I need you to fetch Goodwyn, while Cedric and I put the magical finishing touches on your cake. We can't ruin the surprise, after all!" Winnifred flashes you a wink, then turns to Cedric and ushers him closer to her side.

You stare at Winnifred in bewilderment for a moment, anxiety making your skin flush. You were dreading speaking to Cedric's father most of all, and now you'll have to face him alone with no Cedric to come and save you.

You exhale a shaky breath, feeling a little light headed. You didn't even know where to go to find Goodwyn, and yet somehow you were deemed fit for the task at hand.

You stand awkwardly, watching Winnifred and Cedric roll up their sleeves in preparation. They both had their wands out now, with Cedric bearing his family wand high in the air.

"Ah- where is Goodwyn, again?" Your voice cuts through their concentration like handling a blunt knife, awkward and hesitant.

"Oh good heavens, forgive me!" Winnifred exclaims, her brows shooting up in apology.

"He's in the back dear, just a straight shot down the hall and out the back door." Winnifred gives you an encouraging smile for a moment, then dismissing you as she turns back to the task at hand.

"Right..." You mutter, trudging through the house. You slowly glance at the pictures adorning the hallway, chuckling at the awkward smiles of a young Cedric with his family.

It wasn't long until you reached the back door per Winnifred's instructions. The door had a window cut into its sturdy wooden frame, and through it you see an older man outside. He stood in a well landscaped patio, exotic plants framed all around him. Well crafted benches, tables, and chairs are neatly positioned off to the side, with Goodwyn standing in a mini workshop of sorts to the opposite end.

Seeing the man in person makes your body freeze up, with the previous worries about him rearing its ugly head again. You let out a low groan of dread, your hands covering your face as you rub your eyes. After taking in a few deep breaths, you peel your hands away and set your eyes on Cedric's father once more.

In your frozen state, you unintentionally watch Goodwyn work. It seems that Cedric inherited his feverish work style from his father, as the older man bumbles around his work space for ingredients and haphazardly sets them in any nook of free space available.

You let out a small laugh, your heart tickled by the glimpses of Cedric shining through from his parents. Before you could relish in the merry thought, Goodwyn immediately turns around to the source of your laughter, his keen eyes locking with yours.

You gasp, eyes widening with horror. You open your mouth to speak, but the words instantly die on your tongue. With no defense left, you're resigned to standing there slack jawed and looking like an idiot in front of your future father-in-law.

Great.

"My wife scared you off that quickly, eh?" Goodwyn calls to you with a wry smile, his booming laugh carrying through the breeze.

You bark a forced chuckle, but refuse to give an answer. If only he knew that he was the only one you've been trying to avoid all day. With shaky hands, you push the door open and step outside to properly greet him.

As if on cue, a strong breeze pushes against your back, as if prodding you to continue stepping forward. Wind chimes hung up on the roof tinny as you march on, their comforting sound granting you courage.

The man watches patiently as you stride towards him, his eyes watching you with a gleam of curiosity. Darting your eyes away from his gaze, you finally stop and muster up your voice to speak.

"Quite the opposite, in fact. She told me to fetch you for the cake she baked for me." You say slowly, trying your best to conceal your nervousness.

"Hmph- and I told her to keep you busy until *I* was done with your gift." Goodwyn states simply, adding a pinch of dried herbs to the concoction he was brewing. You laugh awkwardly, rubbing your neck as a long silence stretches out between you both.

You watch as he stirs the potion in front of him, scanning the materials littered around the couldron to make sense of what he was making. Even though you picked up quite a bit about magic from Cedric, you were unsure of what exactly this potion was. Many ingredients were unfamiliar or unlabeled, which left your brows furrowed in contemplation.

Goodwyn seemed to pick up on your confused gaze, his lips twitching into a ghost of a smile.

"Any ideas so far, (y/n)?" Goodwyn questions you, his hand gesturing to the bubbling brew.

Your eyes flick up to his once more, and you feel self conscious. Your mind races to form a coherent thought, but the thought of being tested against the greatest living sorcerer in Enchancia made your mind go completely blank.

"I... I'm not sure." You uttered shamefully, hugging your middle in an attempt to calm yourself.

You feel Goodwyn staring at you, and you had to fight your body from fidgeting any further under his gaze. He finally hums noncommittally in response, back to stirring the potion as he adds another ingredient into it.

"Well then, I'll allow myself to give you a hint- this potion has no counter spell, because it doesn't need one." Goodwyn smiles in satisfaction of his riddle, humming a tune while he works.

"No counter spell?" You choke out in surprise, eyeing the mysterious liquid with trepidation. A million questions blitzed through your head, the main one being why Goodwyn would give you a potion that couldn't be undone if things go awry.

What kind of gift would an in-law give that they wouldn't want to be undone? A few unsavory answers immediately popped into your brain on instinct, but you shake them away. The man was named Goodwyn, for Merlin's sake.

You felt a sense of shame at the suspicion that arose from your mind, but nonetheless tried to think logically.

Just as you saw Goodwyn's mouth open to speak, the solution popped to the front of your mind, clear as an Enchancia summer day.

"A blessing...?" Your voice wavers with uncertainty, but in your core you knew your guess was true. Goodwyn's stern face breaks out into a genuine smile, lighting up every crevice of his wrinkled cheeks.

"Very good, (y/n). I knew my boy would wed someone sharp." Goodwyn nods to himself, his smile now turning into something more smug. You thank him sheepishly, and he nods in affirmation.

Looking at the simmering potion, you ask him the question that's lingering at the forefront of your mind.

"What kind of blessing is it?" You ask in a slightly more confident voice, staring deeply into the murky liquid.

"Ah- getting a bit ahead of ourselves, are we?" Goodwyn tutted, wagging a finger at you. You scoff, confused and slightly annoyed at his vagueness, but maintain a neutral look on your face.

"What do you mean?" You reply, your eyes shifting around his cluttered workspace as a distraction.

"...Do you know why Winnifred and I chose the name we did for Cedric?" Goodwyn spoke tentatively, an uncommon hesitancy in his voice.

You pause, your brain still processing Goodwyn's unexpected question. You weren't sure where the conversation was heading, which made you hesitate answering him further.

Even so, your curiosity always gets the better of you.

You look up from the table you were studying to meet Goodwyn's eyes. They were somber, with a hint of wistfulness that made you feel strangely melancholy.

"Why did you?" You cautiously squeezed out, tucking your hands behind your back.

"The name Cedric means "loved," where we come from." The old sorcerer pauses, grabbing an empty glass beaker and breaking its seal with a satisfying pop.

You feel your heart melt just a touch from the revelation, yet you remain silent.

Taking that as permission, Goodwyn continues speaking.

"I knew from the moment Cedric was born, he would bear a heavy responsibility as my heir; holding a candle to my accomplishments is no easy feat, after all." He laughs, but you don't reciprocate his humor.

"Yes, I know; Cedric struggled to come to terms with that." You agreed cautiously, unsure if Goodwyn was getting to a point or if this was some attempt to chastise Cedric while he's not around. Your body tenses, and your eyes narrow as you await his following words.

"Indeed- he did for a long time..." Goodwyn trailed off with a sigh, eyeing you with a complicated look. You can clearly see the pain in his eyes, and suddenly Goodwyn seems more... tired, and frail, than the paintings adorned in the castle back home portrays. It was if this was a glimpse into the real man behind the legend, and you dared not blink in case you were imagining it.

You continue to lock eyes with the old sorcerer, searching for any other discernable emotions. Surprisingly, he breaks eye contact first.

"You know, people say names are the first blessing you receive in life; that they have the power to shape your destiny." Goodwyn continues, staring at his reflection that rippled in the cauldron.

"Regardless, Cedric's destiny was already written for him- being born into the Goodwyn line, and all..." Goodwyn's eyes darken, and you feel a prick at your heart.

Shaking his head, he prattles on.

"With that said- the only thing Winny and I could do was give him a constant reminder that he is loved; no matter what life had in store for him." Goodwyn finished with a bittersweet smile, his eyes lowering to grab an eyedropper on his work bench.

Sucking up the dark liquid, he carefully drips it into the beaker with practiced hands. You watch the process wordlessly, feeling like Goodwyn still had more to say.

"Now, after all these years, it seems like our humble blessing has finally come to fruition. I can rest easy knowing after we're gone, Cedric will be loved for years to come." Goodwyn's eyes flick towards you for a moment, and all you can offer is a sappy smile.

Glancing back down at the beaker, he hums in satisfaction with his handiwork.

Sealing the opening with a cork, the sorcerer offers you his gift.

"Now, I'm just returning the favor," Goodwyn whispered, his eyes crinkling as he flashed you a smile.

"...Thank you, Goodwyn." You accepted the potion gently, cradling it in your hands. Looking down at the potion in front of you, you felt a soft hum emanating from your body in reaction to it. Your skin felt like it was buzzing, and there was a growing ringing in your ears the more you looked at it.

Shaking your head to break you from your trance, your eyes met Goodwyn's again.

"You still haven't told me what this blessing is, exactly." You remind him with a gentle smile, and he shakes his head as he chuckles.

"Ah, you let an old man rant and rave for too long; my apologies." Goodwyn bows his head towards you, and you assure him it's fine.

Goodwyn raises his head again, a playful glint now in his eyes.

"A blessing can be used for whatever your heart desires. It will listen only to your intentions, so use it with a clear mind and a full heart. Everything else will fall into place, my dear." Goodwyn clapped you on the shoulder heartily, and a slow smile creeps along your cheeks in response.

It seems that you misjudged horrendously, and now you feel torn between thanking him and apologizing for your misconceptions. As you scramble to articulate your thoughts, you almost miss Goodwyn turning back and heading towards the house.

Sensing you weren't following, Goodwyn glances back to you.

"May I remind you, you have a cake waiting?" He calls out, a brow raised expectantly.

"Yes, of course!" You call back eagerly, pushing off from your idle position to rush to Goodwyn's side.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, your eyes meet again.

"Ready?" Goodwyn asks, offering you his arm.

"As I'll ever be." You reply with a cheeky smile, linking your arm with his own.

Both of you make a straight shot for the quaint cottage, your heart soaring with excitement and love for the new family you found yourself being a part of.

#cedric the sensational #cedric x reader #cedricthesorceror #sophia the first #meeting the parents #soft goodwyn #goodwyn is a good dad for once #implied grandchildren trope #just a trope checklist fic atp #but i love it

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blametheeditor · 4 months

Note

just found you and I LOVE your work, but I wanna see what happens after ‘Terms of Agreement’ the cliffhanger is INSANE! IM GOIN NUTS RAAAAH

Welcome, Anon! I'm glad you've enjoyed your time so far, but you're so right I did leave you hanging!!

Forewarning, this is a rewrite! However, I have a whole plan I promise I will be following...and shouldn't take too long. But I hope you enjoy it, and that this is a good cliff-hanger-not-cliff-hanger-cross-my-heart-it'll-continue-soon!

Terms Of Agreement 2.0 | Chapter 1

Run Down: The monster under your bed, the one in the closet, and your sleep paralysis demon fight for custody.

Content Warnings: Mentions of sleep paralysis, hallucinations, and sleep deprivation. Mentions of death, murder, and accidental deaths. Mentions of treating others as lesser than, addressing someone as 'it'

Vincent deserved a bigger entrance

_______________________________

Fritz should’ve known better than to think tonight would be the one night he didn’t fall asleep or wake up to terror.

“Wakey, wakey! You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

The all too familiar voice seems to make the very ground shake. Something that shouldn’t be possible, and he knows this is all in his mind. But it feels all too real. His eyes forced to open even as he desperately tries to keep them shut.

His dark room greets him, with seemingly nothing out of place. Until his pupils expand, and his blanket becomes fingers longer than he is tall wrapped around his bed. One’s that squeeze, feeling like he’s going to get crushed. Unable to breathe properly.

One night. I just wanted one night.

“You know what they say, Fritz,” the voice taunts. Laughs when all the trapped teenager can do is allow terrified tears to fall. Unable to move or speak. “Greif can make the mind all the more susceptible to such troubling things.”

Fritz tries to get away. Close his eyes. Brace himself, anything. But the worst part about sleep paralysis is the fact it’s in control.

An arm materializes within the darkness of his room. Shadows bending to form the rest of the giant who’s fingers are steadily increasing pressure until it seems like he might be forced into sleep once more. A smile longer than he is tall is stretched into a wicked grin that hovers too close for comfort, eyes larger than his head void of pupils yet it’s easy to tell he’s the center of attention.

It’s terrifying. No matter how many times he’s greeted by this particular hallucination, Fritz fights tooth and nail to try to get away even though it isn’t real. His instincts only demand that he needs to get away by any means necessary, but he can’t run from his mind. And even if he could at the very least scream, there’d be no one who could come running.

The monster sneers when he can’t so much as blink. “It’s adorable how terrified you are. Always entertaining. Always fascinating how much you fight.”

The fingers finally loosen their grip, allowing Fritz to finally get a full breath of air. He feels his body wanting to choke on it, but his fear overrides the spasms, completely paralyzed and at the will of his own mind. The one that wants to rub it in his face no one, not even himself is on his side.

Just get it over with...

“I thought we talked about this before, Fritz,” the giant tuts. “You’re the one who has to make the final decision.”

At first the teenager feels genuinely confused. Despite the numerous doctor visits and consultations, he’s never be able to control his sleep paralysis. Too many variables that even if he stays on a strict sleep schedule, or sleeps in every position but his back, it seems like it will never go away. Nor can he influence how long he’s trapped in this awful limbo. It might be one minute, or five, or thirty. Not that it ever matters due to always feeling like it will never end.

“Heavens you’re hopeless,” is said in a way that feels like it was meant to be fond, but he knows better. Remembers his worst mistake in trusting the hallucination didn’t mean to be malicious, right up until it kept him trapped in a nightmare as he begged to be freed.

The giant suddenly gives him a pitiful look. “Do you remember what I said? That I could make all of this go away?”

Fritz feels like he’s being squeezed again, but the fingers originally pinning him down have now completely left. No, this time it’s because he’s faced with the terrifying choice all over again but now with the main reason, arguably the only one for why he didn’t agree before gone.

He tries to close his eyes and hide away. From the hallucination, from the world, wishing the darkness would swallow him whole so he doesn’t have to face the day that will be coming any minute now. His ‘big day’.

Of course Fritz can’t close his eyes or turn his head. Only watch as the giant suddenly looks sympathetic.

...what would happen if he agrees? Nothing really should happen, this entire interaction is due to his sleep paralysis. Even if it does feel like something else entirely is pulling the strings, this really is just his mind taking full advantage of his terror and stress. More than happy to add his grief into the mix.

One that makes his throat close up at the thought of facing the hallucination before him all alone. Because footsteps won’t be racing to his room when he manages to get a scream out. Nor will warm arms appear to wrap around him when he sobs after it ends. No promise she’ll do everything in her power to make it all go away. He’s convinced his mom knows magic, never failing to make him forget about all of it before he’s going to school.

...did. Did know magic.

Fritz’s jaw sets when he realizes she also would’ve been upset he’d think about making a deal with his sleep paralysis. Would be genuinely disappointed he’d want to fraternize with the enemy. He shouldn’t trust something that has done nothing but terrorize him for most of his life.

Maybe another time.

A twisted smile appears on the giant’s face. “I would say I admire you. But I’m afraid you’re going to genuinely regret declining my offer. Though it’s going to be quite entertaining seeing your reaction.”

Fritz feels his heart beat wildly against his chest at what sounds like a promise. What did it mean by seeing his reaction? Why does he have a really bad feeling?

Before he can try and think of an explanation, his room explodes with light, the redheaded teenager quickly shielding his eyes as he looks around his room. Sinks into his pillow with a song sigh at the hallucination not attempting to pull any tricks. Has to clench his jaw firmly shut to keep from yelling for his mom.

Finally he glances toward his alarm clock declaring it’s 8am. A friend of his mom is supposed to come to the house to help him out with a few things at around 1pm. He had been excused from school today and was told to sleep in, but things had other plans. Certain giant hallucinations made out of shadows things to be exact.

Fritz groans as he drags himself out of bed, wincing when he realizes he’s drenched in sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead in a proclamation it’s somehow even more of a mess than usual. He’s also pretty sure the bags under his eyes have become more and more noticeable over the past week. And considering the fact he didn’t go to sleep last night until 1am can give a good picture of how terrified he was sleeping the first night that he-

Deep breath. One step at a time.

Shower. He should shower, and then go from there.

Clean clothes are snatched out of his dresser with a narrowed look sent toward his closet before opening his bedroom door to walk down the hall to the bathroom.

Except the moment he opened the door, a twisted familiar smile that’s as long as he is tall sits only a few feet away.

“Well you certainly don’t mind keeping us waiting.”

Fritz slams the door shut, pressing his back against it as his entire body trembles. It’s only a few seconds before he joins his clothes on the floor, his knees shaking so badly he can’t stay standing.

He didn’t notice he wasn’t breathing until his chest constricts, choking as he forces himself to breathe just breathe this is a dream it has to be a dream this isn’t real.

It feels real. So real Fritz can only wrap his arms around his knees as he curls into a ball, not bothering to wipe away the tears that fall. Tries to take deep breaths but continuously failing as his lungs refuse to take in more than short little gasps.

What happened? Is it getting worse? He is hallucinating outside of his sleep paralysis? If it is, is he supposed to continue seeing the same giant who torments him consistently? Is he even awake right now?

...is he awake?

Fritz’s head snaps up to stare at his room. With sunlight streaming through his blinds. No obvious indication of the hazy feeling he gets when dreaming. And he’s not paralyzed.

“You’re not dreaming, Fritz,” the voice that haunts him almost every night taunts through the door. Makes the air shake. “Come on out, we won’t bite.”

We. There’s more giants?

He doesn’t want to open the door and find out. But if he doesn’t, when will he be able to leave his room? When someone comes to rescue him? Is it possible to just wait it out? The knocking on his door says he can’t. Not when he could feel the wood bending from the sheer amount of force used.

Fritz slowly stands back up, grabbing the handle to steady himself before tensing as he cracks his door opens. Stares at the colossal being watching him with amusement, head propped on a fist.

That’s when he notices the fact the giant is lying on their side. Inside a hallway he’s memorized by heart. Yet the walls stretch so high above he can’t see through the sliver he opened.

This can’t be real.

“Cool trick, huh?” the giant rumbles with a smirk. Fritz can’t help but feel like he’s being watched like a new play thing. “We can manipulate the house to accommodate our natural forms while your bedroom remains untouched. And as soon as the front doors open, everything goes back to normal like nothing ever happened. Every human none the wiser unless they stay inside when the door closes again.”

He latches onto a few things. The fact the possible hallucination is content to just talk to him for now. Prideful his legs are only mildly shaking. Fearful at the idea his home will tower over him without a way for he himself to reverse it. Terrified it’s constantly mentioned there’s other giants.

When the giant doesn’t speak again, Fritz carefully opens his door a little more. Watches with held breath if a hand is going to lash out to grab him. Takes a moment to decide the amused smile is a good thing before slowly peering out into the hallway, his blood draining when it continues to stretch. Knowing the kitchen is only a few doors down, but he can’t even see the end before it becomes blurry.

“Wh-Who are you?”

This is the first time he’s ever been able to actually speak to the hallucination. Actually, it’s the first time he’s really been able to see it clearly. The white voids of eyes and uncanny smile are things he can identify without fail. But he hadn’t realized the recurring giant was actually a deep purple instead of just darkness itself. With long hair tied back into a ponytail. Wears a short sleeve button up that’s the same color purple as it is.

“Vincent,” the hallucination responds. “Nice to properly meet you. Though I’m sure the same can’t be said for you.”

No, it can’t be, but Fritz doesn’t say it out loud. “So this, this is real? You- there's o-others?”

Vincent chuckles, a sound that sends a chill down his spine. “I have done quite the number on you, haven’t I?”

He doesn’t know what that means, but he’s too scared to ask. He also can’t help ducking further into his room when the being sits up, causing an earthquake by the simple motion. Shaking his head at Vincent watching him with interest tens of feet above him. Feeling absolutely miniscule, inconsequential, wanting to run back into his bed and hide under the covers and never come back out.

“You’re adorable,” the giant coos. “How about I introduce you to the others, and then we’ll let you have an existential crisis.”

Fritz didn’t have enough time to realize what that meant before a hand is reaching toward him, one with fingers that have time and time again squeezed him without remorse. It’s enough to let his instincts take over, turning toward his bedroom as his hands grab for the door, intending to close it and never open it again.

But he doesn’t make it. He feels suffocating heat at the same time something trips him. He can’t even scream as he falls against leathery skin, only tries to grab the handle just within reach when he’s lifted up, up, up, the ground falling away so quickly his stomach lurches and his head spins. Curls into a ball as he tries desperately to breathe and not panic as the fingers push him further into a palm five other people could join him on to effortlessly trap him inside a fist.

Please don’t drop me!

It’s the only coherent thought he can manage as he hugs himself. Flinching when he feels a jolt that rattles his very bones. Confused, and terrified, and gasping when his dark cage shakes rhythmically. Feeling like he was plunged into cold water at the realization those are Vincent’s footsteps.

“Don’t go too overboard. He’s not taking it as well as I hoped.”

Fritz isn’t able to ask what the giant holding him means, not when the fingers suddenly open. He’s blinded momentarily for the second time that day, blinking rapidly to try and figure out where he was taken, who was near him.

He swears his heart stops at the sight of two other giants. Each staring at him with a mix of indifference and annoyance. As if one wasn’t enough. As if he deserved to be surrounded by beings who seem like they’d prefer him to be dead above all else.

He doesn’t trust Vincent, not in the slightest. But Fritz couldn’t help grabbing the nearest finger as the hand tilts with the intent to slide him onto the counter. The very same counter he helped his mom prepare food for cooking on for numerous occasions, and yet is now bigger than a football field. Not wanting to face the fact this is real, and not wanting to be completely vulnerable in case the other two decide to just smash him like an unwanted pest.

The thumb he clings to flexes in the attempt to dislodge him. He only closes his eyes as he holds on tighter, earning another chuckle from Vincent as a sigh comes from somewhere behind him.

“Fritz, we are not allowed to harm you intentionally,” a voice he’s never heard before rumbles like thunder in the same way Vincent’s does. That and the wording used doesn’t do anything to quell the redhead’s fear. “We have an important matter to discuss, so we would appreciate it if you cooperated.”

It sounds so...he wouldn’t call it reassuring, but it makes Fritz feel less like he’s about to be killed being addressed in such a way. He’s not safe, and he still has a really bad feeling, and tone makes it clear he isn’t thought of someone worthy to speak to. It lies more on the respectful side than taunting, though.

He looks up to see Vincent give a look to say he’s waiting. Glances over his shoulder to see all three are still watching him. It’s enough to make his nerves get the best of him, his arms finally shaking so much he looses his grip. Yells as he slides onto the counter he jerks away from with how cold it is on his hands and feet.

“It’s still dressed for sleeping,” a new voice pipes up. Fritz is hoping it’s the last one.

“I wasn’t exactly able to warn him what kind of company to expect,” Vincent hums. “Not to mention I grabbed him right in the middle of his morning routine.”

“Considering the circumstances, we can discuss what is expected of him moving forward and allow this to be forgiven.”

Fritz stares up at the other two, finding himself actually looking at them now that he’s been promised a form of safety. He didn’t know what he expected after meeting Vincent, but these giants look much more human. The one who speaks with an air of superiority wears a full piece suit fitted with a blue tie, and even has pupils rather than a blank void for eyes. And the one who addressed him as ‘it’ wears a polo shirt, though with pitch black eyes. Both with normal complexions, short black and brown hair respectively.

What are these three?

“With that now out of the way, allow us to introduce ourselves.” The suited giant locks eyes with Fritz, making the hair on his neck stand on end. “We have been fighting over the rights to your soul from your tenth birthday up until now. The methods in which we were able to entice or forcibly take it depended on our respective abilites.”

“Every competition over a soul has three competitors,” Vincent continues. “A sleep paralysis demon, a monster under your bed, and a monster in your closet.”

The last giant gestures toward Vincent, Fritz tensing as it briefly casts a shadow over him, afraid it’ll turn into a grabbing hand. “The rules normally followed have strict guidelines. Due to the death of Marilyn Smith, the last attempt under the previous terms was conducted this morning. It failed, and now another agreement has been made.”

Fritz is unable to find his voice as he looks between the three, unable and not wanting to accept what’s being said. Because they’re talking about children stories. Ones he once believed in when he was a lot younger before realizing that sleep paralysis was the real culprit.

But they’re claiming his hallucination from sleep paralysis, Vincent, was an actual being. A demon who terrorized him every night rather than something his mind did on its own. And, if that’s the case...

Fritz looks over at the twisted smile as he trembles. “I was so close too. But, you didn’t agree for letting me have your soul. So we’re now here, fighting over custody the civilized way.”

The only being with pupils rolls them. “The term ‘custody’ is utilized by humans when two or more parties are wanting possession over something or someone. Considering it’s the most suitable way to describe this situation in terms you can understand, yes, we are fighting for custody.”

“Unfortunately, you are 16,” is said in a monotone voice, and yet there’s a distinct feeling of anger that makes the teenager want to move farther away. “And that gives you the right to choose who gets your soul.”

“Wh-What?” Fritz asks before he can stop himself. He almost lifts his arms up to defend against grabs from anger, but none of them are upset he might’ve interrupted their speech. They almost look just as surprised as he is. “What do you mean? I, I choose?”

Vincent shrugs. “It’s only fair. We’ve been at each other’s throats for 6 years, yet no one has been able to kill the other. You’ve also consistently declined each of our offers, and that’s something to respect.”

“Speak for yourself. I could have earned 2 souls in the time it’s taken us to get this far,” the suited giant growls, giving a look that makes it clear Fritz is nothing more than an annoyance. “I view this as a failure on our parts.”

“Don’t mind David,” Vincent sneers. “He’s just upset he’s still stuck at 99 souls.”

Fritz doesn’t know what that's supposed to mean. He doesn’t want to know. He wants to wake up and realize this was his worst vivid nightmare to ever have. He slept in, and his sleep paralysis took full advantage, and-

“It’s hyperventilating.”

“Him, James. How many times do we have to tell you?”

“As many time as I have to say it’s still a soul no matter what form it takes.”

“Oh you poor thing.”

The last sentence is said in a way that doesn’t make him feel cared for but rather he’s an unwanted pet. But he can’t fight the hand that scoops him up. Not when he can’t take a full breath no matter how hard he tries, tears blurring his vision, afraid because he doesn’t know what they’re going to do to him.

He then becomes absolutely confused when the grasp doesn’t confine him, but instead he’s just...held. It only gets worse when a finger carefully rubs his back and his first instinct is to lean into it. When he isn’t pinned, he tries to wipe his tears away, jerking back as a fingerprint as big as his head appears to brush his hair back.

The redhead can’t help feeling suspicious from the gentle motions, but he doesn’t question Vincent’s smirk hovering a few feet away. “There you go. Can’t have you dying on us.”

“Are you coddling him?” the voice he thinks is David’s demands. “There’s still more to discuss.”

“I take it this is your first custody battle.” The hand lowers to Vincent’s chest, letting Fritz turn to see no one has moved from their spot, glares all turned to the demon holding him. “Humans are a bit fragile. They tend to die from the most random of things.”

“I was under the impression it’s at an age where it can take care of itself.”

“A full grown adult wouldn’t be able to handle this well. Give the kid some credit, I’ve had my share of humans who didn’t survive meeting one of us, none the less three.”

David looks down at Fritz with a wide eye stare. “You’re saying we have to be careful with him?”

Suddenly he doesn’t want to be put down again. Not when the two looking as if they just realized they’re catastrophic beings to him that could kill him with a single finger would be in arms length. Who could pick him up and accidentally squeeze too tightly...and that would be it.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Vincent grumbles. “We’ll talk about ensuring he isn’t sent to the angels later.”

Fritz’s heart leaps into his throat as he’s lowered toward the counter again, this time the giant quick to move his thumb out of the way so it can’t be grabbed, leaving the redhead sliding off the warm hand without issues. Just like before, the cold counter has him folding into himself to keep himself from freezing, too distracted to try and ask about angels.

Vincent then leans in to earn full attention. “This is how things are going to go down, Fritz. We are going to reside here with you until one of us is chosen to have claim over your soul. You’ll continue going to school, work, hanging out with friends. Just a normal human living a normal human life. However, whenever you are here, we will be offering deals and utilizing every tactic allowed to make you choose one of us. We can’t trick or coerce you, but we can certainly make your life absolutely miserable.”

Fritz trembles as the demon’s smile grows wider and wider as he talks. Making it clear without a doubt he’ll be enjoying every second of this.

“We will also have a schedule in which certain nights will be dedicated for one of us to use as we please without any limits on time except for the sun’s setting and rising,” David adds, looking smug at the horrified look, pleased at how absolutely terrified Fritz is at the thought of Vincent being able to put him under sleep paralysis for an entire night.

“There should also be an expectation the entrance door will always remain closed,” the last demon, monster, James finishes. Fixes Fritz with a stare that feels like it’s pulling on his soul. “We are to be treated with respect. Any attempt to undermine us or the rules set in place will be met with significant consequences.”

“Any questions?”

Can I accept your offer from this morning?

Fritz’s entire body trembles. He wants to ask a question, say something, but his mouth refuses to cooperate. He can’t even nod or shake his head, only look down as he lifts his hands up. Stares at them shaking so much he wouldn’t be able to properly hold anything. He has a strong feeling his legs are just as bad.

“Is that a bad sign?”

“It really is fragile.”

“Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

There’s warmth as purple fingers curl around him. He manages to look up at Vincent’s twisted smile, but the demon doesn’t coo at him or trap him inside a fist. He’s only carried out of the kitchen he grew up filled with utensils he and his mom picked out that are now twice his size. Back through the hallway that would have taken him several minutes to walk down instead of the 17 steps it’s taken only just last night. Unable to fully comprehend his door is exactly as it should be as well as the rest of his room.

“We’ll talk more when you’re ready,” sounds like a threat. But Fritz can only stumble into his room before weekly shutting his door, crumbling to the ground as footsteps walking away cause it to tremble.

He wants to do nothing more than to crawl into bed. Even if he could, though, he’d be too afraid to sleep.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

#thank you so much for the ask!#don't tell anyone I completely forgot about this story despite all of the lore I have lined up #so thank you for reminding me!!!!#this will be added to the list to remember and continue #including ghosts because I need to continue the ghosts #but I hope you enjoy and have a great rest of your day and week!#FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #Terms Of Agreement #BTE writing #cw #content warning

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