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#could go back in and fix a million things but it's good enough!
abisalli · 3 months
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Happy Valentine's Day from the Young Justice group! 💗
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writing-fanics · 2 months
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Nothing lasts forever
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
[warning: cheating: angst: panic attack: implied death]
‘More than anything music box’
As you stood there, your heart felt as though it had stopped beating at that very moment. Your breathing started to slow down as your smile faltered and transformed into a frown. A look of profound sadness and sorrow took over your face as you gazed at the scene before you.
Your eyes were fixed on Lucifer, one of the most beautiful angels in all of Heaven, the one you had opened your heart up to and shared your deepest feelings with.
But now, you were witnessing him cheating on you with Lilith, the first woman and Adam's wife. The pain you felt was almost unbearable, as you watched the love of your life betray your trust and shatter your heart into a million pieces.
You could feel your throat closing as your breathing quickened. You felt sick to your stomach as if someone had punched you in the gut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream. To cry, to disappear from existence. You couldn’t believe he’d do such a thing to you, were you not enough?
Were you not as beautiful as she is? Were you too clingy? To annoying? Why did he betray you and your trust?
He promised to always be by your side when you needed him, to always catch you when you fall. To be your shoulder to cry on. To never break your trust.
But here he was breaking that very promise and trust, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. The two of you were made for each other, and with the scene unfolding before you. Made you think otherwise.
“I love you, Lilith,” whispered Lucifer, as he stared at Lilith in awe kissing her on the lips.
Your whole world shattered as your back hit the tree, and you slid down onto the ground. Placing your hand over your mouth, muffling your wails. You couldn’t breathe and felt the world closing in on you. You were nothing to him. You sniffled quietly placing your head into your hands, and wept as you swiftly flew away.
You fell into a heap on the floor of your house, sobbing as you curled up into a ball. You saw everything and what you saw would forever be engraved into your memory, you’ll never get it out of your head. Seeing them like that, him like that with another woman. Made your stomach turn, how could he do such a thing to you?
“W- Was I not enough?” You whimpered, as you lay in the fetal position. Your face is red and puffy cheeks stained with tears, your heart aching and unbearable pain. You knew he felt what you were going through at this moment, and couldn’t care less to comfort you. Your love was bound and could feel each other's emotions when they became severe, and you knew for a fact he could feel it.
But didn’t care enough to comfort you. He was having too much fun with Lilith, doing things that he should only be doing to you his lover.
You thought he would never do such a thing to you. Never betray you and break your heart, and here he was ripping it right out of your throat. If he had noticed you would he have stopped? Would he have kept going? Taunting you, teasing you, on an act he’d never done to you. Such an act he’ll never do to you now.
You thought your relationship was good perfect even. Yes, you had the occasional fight but would always end up back in each other’s arms, holding each other lovingly. Feeling safe and secure in each other's warm embrace.
“I'm so sorry, my dear duckling," he whispered, pulling you close and showering your shoulder with gentle kisses. "Please know that I understand how you feel.”
"I forgive you, Luci," you said, enveloping him in a warm embrace and smiling through your tears as he held you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and whispered comforting words in your ear, promising to make things right.
You banged your fist against the cold ground; gripping at the fabric of your clothes, as you cried. The tears didn’t seem to stop and wouldn’t anytime soon. You couldn’t breathe, the room around you started to spin. You felt dizzy and nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat causing you to gag. You swallowed and gripped the side of your head.
You tossed it to the ground, screaming and crying in anger and frustration. “HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!” You shouted, trashing everything that reminded you of him. You couldn’t stop crying, the things this man did to you. How he made you smile and laugh, how he made you fall head over heels.
You wanted to disappear and fade back into dust, your original form. To not be forced to live with this pain for all eternity, knowing that even after this you’d still love him. He’d come back and apologize slowly making up for it but…..
You stood there with the other angels, his siblings trying their best to comfort you. As you watched him be banished from Heaven, cast down with his new lover. Leaving you there alone in Heaven, with no shoulder to cry on.
You found yourself standing amidst a group of angels, feeling a sense of unease and trying hard to keep yourself composed. As you looked ahead, you noticed him standing before Lilith, his wings stretched out protectively, shielding her from any harm. The sight of him being so close to Lilith made your heart ache with a mixture of emotions.
You couldn't help but wonder if you were so unpleasant to look at that he couldn't even spare a glance in your direction. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Lilith, who seemed to have his undivided attention.
As you stood there looking at him, you noticed that his gaze had shifted to meet yours. It was then that you saw a hint of remorse in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. In that moment, a single tear trickled down his cheek, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation.
As you looked away from him, he noticed the tears that had welled up in your own eyes, and the hollow, defeated expression etched on your face. It was a moment of deep emotional turmoil for both of you, and the silence that hung between you was almost suffocating.
“Nothing lasts forever,” Azrael said, as he placed his hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently in reasurrance.
You shook your head and stepped outside of the courtroom, stopping at the stairs. You reached around your neck taking off the necklace, Lucifer had given you years ago.
You stared at it for a moment, opening it. A soft melody played, tears trickled down her cheeks as whisps of yellow magic swirled, around the locket music box. A duck swam in a pond while a swan, swam up next to it nuzzling their heads into each other.
As she witnessed the heartwarming scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but let out a choked sob. A tearful smile graced her face as she watched the duck and the swan gradually transform into Lucifer and You, respectively. The two characters held each other closely, their embrace exuding a sense of comfort and security.
Lucifer, still holding onto You, took to the skies, flying around with exuberance. His laughter filled the air, and his smile was contagious. You, too, shared in his joy, reveling in the moment with him.
As they soared through the clouds, a vivid memory of their first kiss flashed before your eyes. You remembered how you had wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, and he had held you close to him. The moment had been magical, and it was a memory that you cherished deeply.
You smiled, closing the locket as a gust of wind blew the magic away, and you along with it, returning back to your original form to dust.
A/n: idk what I just created there’s no part ii for this unless y’all beg me for it but idk still]
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@froggybich
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shu-porang-porang · 3 months
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Love Me Until I Love Myself
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♡♡♡ Minho wants to make sure you know he loves you ♡♡♡
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Rating: Explicit
Theme: Angst, Fluff, Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.
Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), reader is insecure and doesn't like herself
Word count: 3 k
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You and your boyfriend are on the ride back home from an awards show after party. It was exhausting. You used to think they must be fun, getting to chat and party with celebrities, but nope. You’re not built for this. You wonder how he could do it, especially after performing those taxing choreos. You could never. All night he was so bubbly and cheerful, while you tried to hide in shadows and attract as little attention as possible. Well, it’s not like people cared about you anyway, you were an outsider, a peasant who was offered a chance at a royal ball.
Halfway through it you questioned why you even accepted to participate, and then right away, you remembered why. Another girl approached him, congratulating him on their win and talking about memories you weren’t a part of, laughing at inside jokes you couldn’t understand. Of course, he would be comfortable with these girls, they’re coworkers after all! He’s known some of them for ages, way before you guys met, and of course you had no right to tell him to stay away from them or anything. The best you could do was to stick around, so the girls were aware of you as his girlfriend, or he knew you were there, lest he decided to do something naughty with one of them...
You know you’re being unreasonable; you know he’s loyal, and they’re just friends, some of them are even like his little sisters, but you can’t get these thoughts out of your head. Your insecurities won’t let you. After all, those girls are famous idols, loved by millions, always so dolled up and pretty, acting cute and shit. You think it’s just a matter of time before Minho realizes the timid plain you ain’t good enough for a star like him. Although he always fondly smiles at your dorky made up dance moves, you think some performer who could actually dance and shared his passion for dancing would be more appealing to him. You feel you lack a lot, and you can’t justify why someone like him would be interested in someone like you.
You feel pathetic. You let out a sigh subconsciously and Minho gently puts a hand on your thigh, asking if you’re ok. You reply with a nod and a weak smile. You’re afraid if you try to talk, tears may spill. His hand remains on your thigh, so you hold it to calm yourself down. His soft hand that you love so much. You love everything about him, you’re crazy about him. You wish you didn’t love him so much, then he couldn’t one day break your heart. You wish you were another person, well, you wished that almost your entire life until you met him. Having him, convinced you that you were alright, the person who you were and hated for so long, was the same person who got you to him, so it was alright. But here you are again, doubting yourself. You think you’re just broken and can never be fully fixed. So maybe it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to stick with you…
You arrive at Minho’s place. You moved in with him a few months back, so it’s technically your place too, but you don’t dare to indulge yourself in that idea, you think you don’t deserve it, you’ll lose it soon, so better to not get attached, but it’s already too late.
Home, at last. As soon as you enter, you are greeted by the cats. Minho picks one up cooing at it. You walk past by him into the bedroom. You just wanna rid yourself of the party attire and go to sleep, right now the only thing that could stop your train of horrible thoughts is sleep.
Minho joins you soon after, walks towards you and wraps his arms around you from behind as you’re taking your jewelry off in front of the mirror. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent.
“Hey let go, I’m tired. Just wanna get out of this dress and go to bed.”
“But I want you to stay in this dress a bit longer. You looked so pretty tonight, babe” he leaves kisses on your exposed shoulder that make your breath hitch in your throat. But you’re still upset about the bleak night you had.
“Oh, is that why you spent the whole time talking to other girls while I was sitting right there?” Your bottled up emotions force you to blurt out.
He lifts his head up, looking you in the eyes through the mirror. His expression is baffled, he’s trying to figure out what he did wrong.
“What are you talking about? I thought we had a nice time there!”
“Well, you obviously had, giggling with them all night.”
You try to break free from his arms but he won’t budge.
“Hey! You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s exactly wrong.”
You try to form sentences that would explain why you’re feeling like this, but you feel stupid for bringing it up in the first place. You break into tears as you’re tired and helpless and don’t even know how to make sense of your feelings. Silent tears start streaming down your cheeks, you’re never one to sob loudly. Worries written all over his face.
“Baby tell me. What did I do? Did someone say something to you?”
You shake your head “no”. He lifts you up and carries you to bed, sitting you on his lap. You show no resistance, your hands are balled up on your lap and your head is down, trying to cover your crying face with the lose strands of your hair, which he tucks behind your ear immediately. His thumb is caressing your tear-stricken cheek. His other hand is soothingly massaging your thigh.
“It’s okay baby, you can talk to me. Please. It really hurts me to see you like this and not be able to do anything about it. Tell me what’s wrong sweetie. We’re gonna fix it together.”
You don’t wanna hurt him. Hurting him is the last thing you would do. So, you try to fight the tears and speak.
“I… seeing you tonight… the girls all pretty and talented… the things you have in common… how close you are… I wonder… how long… till you realize……….”
“Till I realize what baby?”
“I’m not… good enough” your voice is shaky, again on the verge of tears.
He’s in disbelief. His mouth slightly agape in shock. His grip on your waist tightens.
“Why would you even think that?” he says as if asking himself, not really waiting for a response from you.
His brows are furrowed. He’s thinking to himself.
“I get it now. You were sitting right there, and I kept talking to other people as if you weren’t. But I just thought you weren’t taking part in conversations coz you didn’t want to be bothered… but you actually felt excluded from them. Is that right?”
“Almost. That alone wasn’t a problem, but it made me think you deserve to be with someone who’s more like them and less like me…”
“Woah! Where did you get that from?”
“You’re too good for me… it can’t be right. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time with me…”
“Hey! You don’t get to decide that for me! Do you think I couldn’t have any of those girls if I wanted? The thing is, I don’t want them, I want you.”
“Why do you even love me? Even I can’t love myself…”
“Where should I begin? I love everything about you, and I make that my first priority from now on, to make you see all the things I love in you, and to make you love them too.” He finishes his sentence with a soft kiss on your collarbone.
He plants a few more kisses on the expanse of your chest before pulling back and looking into your glossy eyes. You give him a thankful smile as your hands reach for his nape and pull him in for a kiss. His lips feel like heaven against yours, soft and plump. The kiss starts with languid movements of your mouths. Neither of you are in a hurry, you both need to savor this moment. He drags his tongue on your bottom lip and you let it in. As your tongues are dancing, the temperature rises. His hand that was on your waist, travels up to grope at your clothed breast, the other hand is tangled in your hair, keeping your head in place for him to abuse your lips.
He lays you on your back on the bed, momentarily disconnecting your lips which makes you whimper in loss. It encourages him to get back to kissing with even more fervor. His hands are pulling the straps of your dress down, trying to gain access to your breasts. He trails kisses down your jaw and across the column of your neck, to your shoulders and collarbone. They alternate between feather like pecks to purplish hickeys. He can’t decide what he wants. He wants it all, he wants all of you, he can’t get enough.
He stops to admire his work of art. A hand cups your cheek gently which you lean into, closing your eyes.
“You’re so perfect baby,” He plants a kiss to your forehead. “Even in my wildest imaginations I couldn’t picture someone this pretty,” Another kiss to your nose. “Inside and out.”
You open your eyes to see his lovingly stare back. You pull him in for another taste of his lips.
“So, do you still wanna get rid of this dress?”
“I do, if you want to.”
“As gorgeous as you look, I can’t wait to see what’s underneath.”
He takes it off and your left in nothing but your black lace panties. You tug at his dress shirt, signaling him to take it off too, which he complies, followed by the unbuckling of his belt and his pants follow suit.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I want you to never forget that.” He says as he hovers over you once again. You open your arms to invite him into your hug. He lowers his body onto yours, slightly circling his hips against your crotch. You feel him twitch in his boxers.
“We don’t have to do it if you’re not in the mood, you know.��� He says searching your eyes.
“I want it baby, I need you, I really do.” You say as your hands are mapping his toned chest.
With a little smirk on his lips, he goes back to business. He kisses your chest, right above your racing heart, then latches his mouth to your left nipple. He sucks and bites at it till its raw, while trying to give the same amount of attention to the right one between his fingers. You squirm beneath him as your nipples get too sensitive and can’t handle more. He gets the cue and snaps out of his uncontrollable desire to ruin them. Instead, he gives them both kitten licks and pecks in turn, to compensate for the rough treatment they just received.
Moving down your naval, he’s all soft and sweet with butterfly kisses, loving pecks and whispering sweet nothings in between. He’s slotted between your thighs as he reaches your core. Eyes darting up to ask for your permission one last time before he’s completely unstoppable. You give him a nod and he places a kiss to your clothed mound. He teases by nudging his nose to your clit and licking a stripe from your hole to it. Tasting the arousal leaking through the fabric, he lets out a satisfied hum that sends shivers up your spine. You’re growing impatient but he’s taking his sweet time with peppering your inner thighs with kisses and hickeys. You feel more of your juices flowing out and you buck your hips up.
“Stay still princess. Let me take care of you, hm?”
“Minho… please…” You whine. You trust him that he’ll take good care of you, but you can’t wait anymore.
He finally gets rid of your panties and the cool air hits your pussy, followed by warm puffs of his breath.
“So pretty… all mine” He says before diving down and starting to make out with your pussy lips. The lewd noises that fill the room make you forget why you were even upset earlier. The only thing you don’t like about this moment is how little pressure he’s putting on your clit, enough to keep your juices flowing, but not enough to make them gush out all at once. You’re a moaning mess, your fingers pulling at his roots, trying to keep his face close to your core. He’s finally sucking at your clit, suddenly the pleasure gets overwhelming as he inserts two fingers inside you. You feel the knot in your stomach tightening to a snap. A few more strokes of his tongue and your coming undone. Your thighs shake around his head, one of his hands comes up to fondle your breast, his mouth still attached to your core, drinking the elixir of life straight from the fountain. He waits for you to ride your orgasm before he crawls back on top and gives you a taste of yourself. His mouth and chin are glistening with your juices. What a sight to see! You feel extremely lucky to be the one who caused this scene.
“That was …amazing… Thank you” you say while trying to find the normal rhythm of your breath.
“I told you I know how to take care of my girl.”
“Now it’s your turn.” You push him on his back and now you’re on top.
First thing you do is taking his boxers off and finally freeing his aching cock. You wonder how he managed to focus on pleasuring you while he was this hard. The sight alone makes you all turned on again. You thought you’d need more time to build a second orgasm, but you’re already throbbing.
Now it’s your turn to mark him, to shower him with kisses, to try and pour as much love as possible onto your every touch. Starting from the sensitive spot on his neck, you know you can’t mark him here, still you suck it a bit harsher than you should. You leave open-mouthed kisses all over his chest and where it is safe, give him a few hickeys too. You lovingly kiss the scar on his abdomen, the fact that it’s another thing that only a few have seen and you’re one of those few, is really endearing to you.
His member is twitching between your bodies. You slide your wet pussy on it, earning a groan from him. You decide he deserves a quicker release, so you stop grinding to hold it and align it with your entrance but he stops you.
“Wait baby. Let me do it.” He says as he’s stopping your hips from moving.
You’re confused but you go with it. He gets on top again.
“Tonight is about showing my baby how much I love her.” He says with a fond smile.
“I wanna make sure everything feels good for you.” He puts a pillow under your hips to gain a better angle. He inserts the two fingers from before in your pussy, checking how wet you are and scissoring them to loosen the muscles.
“Minnie I’m fine… it’s not my first time…” you try to say in between gasps as his fingers alone are doing wonders inside of you.
“Oh but it is sweetheart. I’m gonna love you all over again.” He inserts a third finger.
“Gonna make sure to give you all the love you deserve.”
He clashes his lips to yours as he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock. The stretch is pleasant, you want more of it. You moan in his mouth as he slowly inches inside you until he finally bottoms out. He stays still, your warmth engulfing him, turns his brains to mush.
He whispers in your ear: “I love you so much”
He starts moving as he nibs at your earlobe, giving you words of praise now and then. Your arms wrap impossibly tight around his shoulders, leaving no space between your chests.
He slowly picks up his pace. Your nails are digging to his biceps now. Beautiful moans fill the room. His lips won’t leave your skin for more than 3 seconds. He pats down your left arm till he reaches your hand and your fingers intertwine as if they have brains of their own. He pins it above your head and his other hand is beside your head, supporting his weight as his movements get faster and less precise.
“ ’m close…” you manage to let out.
“Go ahead… I’m right… behind you”
A few more thrusts and you’re second orgasm hits you as your head falls back and your eyes screw shut, his name like a prayer on your lips. You’ve made a habit out of saying his name every time you came or it wouldn’t feel right.
As your walls convulse around him, he can’t hold it back anymore. Ropes of white hot liquid paint your walls. He collapses on top of you. He tries to pull out but you stop him.
“Wanna stay connected to you a bit more…” You wish you could merge with him into one person, but having him inside a bit longer, would do too.
His head finds its place in the crook of your neck. One of your hands is in his hair and the other is resting on his back. You whisper a “I love you” to his hair and kiss the top of his head and he lets out a sigh. You don’t want this moment to end. If he can love you this much, maybe you should give it a try too.
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anundyingfidelity · 6 months
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FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader
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Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.
Word count: 3.9k.
Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.
Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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It's harder to stay...
Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.
The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.
Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.
"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.
Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"
The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.
"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.
"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.
"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.
During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.
"So it's personal..."
"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.
"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't."
2029, Sacred Timeline
When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.
But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.
You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.
At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.
Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.
He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.
So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.
Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.
The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.
"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.
You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.
"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.
All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."
"Loki, I saw you die..."
Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.
"I know you did, my love."
You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.
And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.
"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.
You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"
Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.
"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."
"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."
"What?" you mumbled.
Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?
"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.
Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"
He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."
You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.
"Your death was supposed to be then?"
"Yes, it was."
"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.
Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.
Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.
"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"
"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.
You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."
Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"
"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."
"Or you could do both."
"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."
"It's not your fault."
"I know, Loki."
"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."
You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."
Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.
You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.
"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."
He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."
"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."
"No,I can't-"
"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."
Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.
"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."
And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."
Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.
When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.
"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.
Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."
His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.
You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."
"Thank you, love."
Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.
"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.
"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.
So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.
Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.
"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.
"I love you too."
Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.
The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.
So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.
He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.
Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.
At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.
"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."
"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.
"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.
"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.
"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."
And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.
You were right. Mobius was a good friend.
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charmercharm3r · 11 months
Text
steady streams
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Masterlist
8/8 of The Sleepwear Series
wc: 4k
Synopsis: Sometimes, the dead of night is the only time you get him all for yourself.
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, fluffy bf!chan, genderneutral!reader, unprotected sex, handjob, oral, light choking, talk of pleasuredom!chan hehehehe, reader crying during sex but nothing bad!! they just luuuuvvvvv each other so much..pretty tame
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Chan is a man already spread way too thin, mind in a million places, phone always just in reach, shoulder so weighed down by his duties that sometimes he feels like a fucking zombie. And he admits, sometimes he thinks he actually is. But hey, it puts food on the table and keeps a decent amount of change in his pocket.
That’s why you always made sure he left all of that outside the door when he came home. Chan was grateful you didn’t ever let him sulk for too long, or let him leave early in the morning on an empty stomach– those meal preps in the fridge are life savers for his incredibly long days.
It was another one of those days, drainingly long and so, so far away from you. Another thing that weighed on him, he felt like the world’s worst boyfriend for spending so much time at work and only being able to see you so late into the night when he came home. In all honesty, it did suck, of course it did. But you understood him and his workaholic lifestyle, and dating him turned you into a night owl as well.
Judging by his lack of enthusiasm in his texts, he just wanted to get home. So you opted to pick him up in the wee hours of the morning instead of him taking a taxi, sending him a quick notice and a few comforting hearts.
Chan was waiting outside the building by the time you’d gotten there and let out the loudest sigh as soon as he sat in the passenger seat. You were thankful for the lack of traffic on the corner of the street because he threw his bag in the backseat and leaned over the center console to take you into an exhausted embrace. He still smelled so good, musky but somehow the vanilla lingered on his clothes and skin, you couldn’t help taking in a deep breath of the scent as you hugged him back. “You okay, hon?” You cooed, voice muffled by how tightly he held you. Only receiving a groan in response, you laughed lightly and kissed the part of his body you could without breaking away.
He held on for a bit longer until he’d had his fix, pulling away but keeping content with his hand in yours. The drive home was pleasantly quiet, your late night playlist softly playing in the background while Chan kept his eyes closed and head rested back, occasionally rubbing his thumb into your hand to tell you he was still awake because of course he was.
Getting back home as you unlocked the door, he let his forehead fall against your shoulder from behind for a moment. You say nothing, leading him in and tossing all your belongings down before Chan could follow suit.
“What do you need from me tonight, baby?” The gentle nature of your voice was already calming as it was, but your open arms were even more inviting. As if the hug in the car wasn’t enough, Chan leaned his head into your neck and encased you in his arms, intent on not letting go. He didn’t need to explicitly tell you that he needed the physical affection, he always wanted it, but it never hurt to ask.
“Need to shower,” he murmured back as his arms slithered tighter around your torso and crushed your bellies against each other.
“Eat something small and I’ll get it started.” Hands in his hair, you knew he wasn’t going to let you go easily now that your nails raked against his scalp.
“‘M not hungry. Stay with me,” Chan’s voice was low while pulling far enough just so he could peck your cheek and trail his lips to yours for a chaste, longing kiss. He moaned against you, practically melting in your arms.
You barely nodded before he was blindly leading you towards your ensuite bathroom, the same route you’d make a million times a day that either of you could do in your sleep if you’d gotten any. Clothes were strewn about the pathway through the bedroom door, past the perfectly made bed, and into where the steamy oasis awaited. Granted, it took a minute to get it the right temperature, but Chan just couldn’t stand the wait. He dragged you into the shower before it was hot enough and bore the burden of standing in the lukewarm stream just so he could have an excuse to hold you skin to skin.
There couldn’t have been less space between your bodies but it still didn’t feel like enough for him. All he wanted was in his arms, lightly scratching up and down his bare back as the water finally reached the perfect temperature.
“Would you like to tell me about your day?”
“After you tell me about yours. Wanna listen to you talk.” His admittance made you smile and kiss his neck.
“Well, then let me help you clean up and I’ll tell you about all the drama at work.” Chan nodded and leaned back, keeping his hands on your hips at all times. His eyes closed as the warm water began to soak his hair and drip down his face. The image of him was enough to stop you in your tracks and admire his pretty features. Delicate and somehow prominently defined bone structure, pink plump lips with a lovely cupid’s bow, your eyes raked down his thick neck to the built traps of his wide shoulders and broad chest and you wondered how on earth you came to call this beautiful human yours. His looks alone were enough to cast a spell over you, make you want to do anything you could to take care of him, in this very moment you were entranced.
With him still holding on to you, you reached for the shampoo bottle and poured a bit in your hands, lathering it up before massaging the bubbles into his hair. Chan’s lips parted a little at the action followed by a slight groan. “My boss is still an asshole, but today was okay for me, he was pretty occupied. Remember that girl I was telling you about? The assistant? Well, I saw her sneak into my boss’s office during his lunch break.”
Chan peaked one eye open, “what? Really?”
“Mhm,” you nodded your head, “you’ll never believe what happened.” Once your fingers started to get rubbed raw, you figured it was time to rinse. “Head back,” he followed your instructions and let the water clean the shampoo away. “My boss came back after lunch, but his wife was with him!”
Both of Chan’s eyes shot open and he gasped, “no way! Was the assistant still in his office?”
“Yes! And the door was closed! I saw the whole thing as it was happening. Head up.” Conditioner next, then body soap on a scrub glove. You took your time rubbing the exfoliating glove over the expanse of his skin, enjoying getting to clearly see all of his little features up close, particularly his chest and arms. Chan smirked a little as he watched you ogle him.
“What happened next?” He prodded.
“I couldn’t see what the assistant was doing inside his office, but I heard her say that she was just leaving his week’s itinerary and organizing some files and she ran out. The wife was totally clueless.”
Straightening out his arm, you held it up as the soap coated his skin, smelling like a soft lavender. “Damn, I really thought the wife would finally realize her husband was cheating on her.” Chan mindlessly used the suds to clean his lower half as well.
“You and me both, babe. Turn around.”
His back was like a dream to look at, let alone get to see all soapy and wet. You squeezed the glove across his shoulder and let the suds drip down for your own amusement. The little giggle that left you had Chan peaking over his shoulder, “enjoying yourself?”
“Mhm. A lot,” you kiss his lips as he chuckles before continuing your task. “Wanna tell me what made your day suck so bad?”
Chan’s head fell forward with a long sigh, he rinsed the conditioner from his hair. “It’s not even anything terrible. It’s just… the regular stuff that is getting so exhausting.” 
Taking the shower head off the hook, you rinsed his body and hung the scrub glove, handing it to him to put back so you could wrap your arms around his waist. Chan’s head hung in the hot water while you pressed your ear to his back and listened to his heartbeat. The soft rhythm was almost mind numbing somehow, not realizing you were feeling him up and down until he cupped his hands over yours to stop before they got too low. “How can I help you?” You could only whisper, wishing there was a way to make all of his responsibilities evaporate like the steam on the bathroom walls.
“Just hold me.”
It was another few quiet moments with him like this until you started to get antsy. Your boyfriend was right in front of you, yet it still felt like his mind was so far away. You knew it was, a bad habit of his that not a lot seemed to break as he thought of all the things he still needed to do. And you missed him, so much that you couldn’t bear to tell him because it’d be one more thing on his plate.
Instead of voicing your concern for his overly bombarded thoughts, you figured it’d be more beneficial to put a pause on his brain all together.
So slow that he didn’t seem to register, you tiptoed your hand south and splayed your palm over his pelvis. It wasn’t until you took hold of his semi-hard cock did Chan realize what you were doing. His head shot up and tried to look back at you, but you lightly wrapped your hand around his neck and said, “relax, baby. No more thinking tonight.” You felt him swallow, then nod.
Not even thirty seconds later and he was at full mass, entirely at your mercy as the water acted as lubricant for lazily pumping him. Knowing just where to touch, just how to nibble lightly at his skin, just enough pressure around his neck to make his head fall back, Chan bucked into your palm and already felt so grounded beneath your touch. The warmth of the water was making him overheat even more now that his high was rising quicker than he’d expected. Your fingertips ran over the head of his cock before wrapping your hand into a tighter ring and speeding up your movements, Chan shuddered and let his head rest back against the side of yours. While you worked him up further, he placed a grip over the hand on his neck and squeezed tighter while his other reached back to grab your ass and pull you flush against his back side. Every time he rutted into the ring of your palm, your hips moved with his, fluid and in sync with every motion until he bit his lip to hold back the strained moans that wanted to erupt. “Let go, sweetheart. You deserve it. I won’t let you go,” the loving coo of your voice was what tipped him over the edge and release onto the tiled shower walls with a deep groan. You squeezed his neck just a little tighter while his nails dug into the fatty flesh of your ass, hips twitching until his shoulders slumped forward with relief.
“Fuck, I needed that. Thank you,” Chan rolled his head to kiss your temple. As he turned to take you into a hug again, you quickly took the shower head and cleaned the wall off and washed his seed down the drain.
“I know.” You hugged him back, but still felt his erection hard against your stomach.
His breathing returned back to normal soon. “Did you shower earlier?” He asked, you nodded, “good.”
Before you could question him further, Chan was guiding you out of the shower and letting the steam flood the bathroom even more. He dried you down before drying himself, taking in your lips as you attempted to wrap your hair in another towel to catch you off guard with your arms up and body exposed.
The kiss was hungrier than any of the past few shared since picking him up, so much needier and desperate that he unexpectedly picked you up and dropped you onto the bed in a matter of seconds. You squealed when your bare back hit the mattress and Chan fell to his knees in front of you. Doing your best not to get the sheets wet with your soaked hair, you looked down at him wonderfully confused, “what’re you doing?”
His lips were peppering kisses up and down your legs, coming to your thighs and he looked up at you through his long lashes. “You’re so sweet to me,” Chan said into your skin. “Packing me meals. Picking me up so late at night. Getting in the shower with me even if you’re already clean just because I asked. Always treating me so good and that was just today. You didn’t think I’d let you leave without a reward, did you?” Each sentence was accompanied by more kisses and slight teething to leave soft red marks.
Throwing your legs over his shoulders, he made his way higher and hooked his arms under your thighs. “I wasn’t going to ask for anything in return,” you admit, unabashedly indulging in how pretty his hair was when it was wet and curly, you couldn’t stop from twirling it between your fingers as his kisses came to the junction where your thigh met your pelvis.
“You don’t have to ask, baby. I wanna give it to you. Y’always deserve something just as sweet as you are. Let me? Please, please let me?” He was begging as his warm breath fanned over your center, sending shivers up your spine and raising goosebumps along your limbs.
Just a nod and a whine, he was overly enthusiastic in the way he began to devour you. Slurping noises filled the room from the very start, Chan clutched your thighs tightly to keep you from squirming and against his mouth at all times. His big tongue covered so much area, made you feel tingly all over especially when he peered up at you from between your legs, an obvious smirk as the same tongue wriggled to tease you for making such pretty nosies for him. Maybe a little too lost in it, Chan sat up onto his knees, hunched over and took your lower body up with him to fold you in half as he continued to stimulate what felt like every nerve in your body. He was looking down at you now and slightly menacing but in a way that was painfully arousing, he knew what he was doing when he began to hum. Hands in his hair, you were rutting into his face as if he was only there for your pleasure, and he loved it. So much so that even after you came into his mouth and he swallowed every bit, after you finally let him go and he placed you back onto the bed, Chan begged to let him do it again.
“Baby, I don’t think I can. Too tired and sensitive,” you breathed heavily as he crawled over your body.
“I know I can make you cum one more time at least. If not with my mouth, then…” His voice trailed off, lowering to place supple kisses across your chest and up your neck. “Let me fuck you, nice and slow just how you like. Wanna keep making you feel good, the way you make me feel. Wanna feel you around me, pulling me in so deep that you feel me in your belly,” he emphasized his sultry words by tracing his fingers across your lower stomach, making you shudder again. “Let me fuck you so soft until you cum around me, make you feel how much I love you and appreciate everything you do for me.” Your stomach twisted at his lewd, heartwarming promise, there was no denying him when he asked so kindly.
Tugging his head down for more kisses, Chan hiked your legs around his hips and immediately aligned himself with your core. The initial push in was a burning, blissful stretch to accommodate his swollen size, the both of you a sensitive mess from already coming once each and loudly groaning into the bedroom air.
“That’s it, baby. Fuck– you feel so good, so warm,” he mumbled against your lips, unable to shut himself up. Not that you minded, you adored when he told you how you made him feel, and he loved the reaction you gave him.
“See that, sweetheart?” He bucked his hips impossibly deeper, seeing the bulge in your lower belly protruding slightly. “What’d I tell ya? Isn’t that just the prettiest sight? Aside from you, of course,” Chan chuckled as he slowly fucked in and out of you, pressing his forehead against yours to watch as his tip prodded lightly upwards from your stomach.
His fascination for seeing himself within you was maddening, when he said he’d fuck you slow, you didn’t think it’d be this slow, to the point of almost stagnant. Whining and clawing at his biceps, you tried to buck yourself back and forth just for the friction and he laughed. He actually laughed watching you struggle to get yourself off after protesting it not even ten minutes ago. “Oh, you’re just so cute! Trying so hard. Is it working? Think you can do it yourself?”
“Baby, please– you said you’d–”
“I know, I know, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I could never say no to your pretty face.”
Chan adjusted his stance so his thighs brushed against your bruised ass and settled on his forearms on either side of your head. Cheek to cheek, you held onto him from under his arms, one hand hooking under his shoulder and the other reaching as far down as you could to dig your nails into his ass the same as he did earlier. The slight pain of your nails was encouraging, pulling out and pushing into you again at a languid pace. The sound of wetness filled the room from both the sloppy kisses he was leaving anywhere he could and from where your bodies connected.
He was alway vocal in bed especially when he was feeling the way he did now, at rock bottom but somehow on top of the world because he had you beside him, conflicted inside thinking he doesn’t deserve the love and support you provide but can’t seem to fend off the selfishness to push you away. You were better that sleep, better than three hot meals a day, better than any drug that could run through his veins because drugs eventually wear off, but there was no way he was ever going to get you out of his system.
So yeah, if the opportunity to tell you how much he adored you ever came around, he was going to take it. Such as now, for instance, fucking into you with nothing but love and passion while also letting out all of his day’s frustrations through his words.
“My beautiful baby, you fit me like a glove. Oh, you sound so pretty when you say my name. Say it again please? Hngh– there we go– ah, fuck– do that again. God, this hole is perfect, so perfect for me. Don’t ever wanna pull out. Wanna fuck you all day and night, make you cum over and over again until you can’t remember what day it is. How does that sound, love? Would you let me? Just say so and I’ll do it.”
If dirty talk was an olympic sport, he’d take the gold year after year because the flame in your gut was burning brighter and brighter with every thrust– or was that just his cock?
Didn’t matter, it could’ve been minutes or hours that he spoke to you like this, kept you teetering on the edge with just the right pace and depth to have your toes curling. It was so good that you wanted to cry, not just from the pleasure but because of how much you loved him, and there was no way to express that love without actually making the two of you break into tears.
But you couldn’t hold back the few that escaped down your cheek, though it was the sniffle that caught his attention to sit up and look at you with deep concern. “Baby? What is it?” He pulled out immediately, making you whimper and claw at his back for him to return. Chan was confused, but did as you asked and slowly pushed back into you, making your eyes screw shut and dig back into the mattress. “Talk to me, why are you crying?” 
As he swiped the tear away with his thumb, you held his hand and nuzzled your cheek into his palm. “Love you so much,” it came out as less than a whisper and if Chan wasn’t looking at you, he wouldn’t have understood.
His eyes softened more than they already were, he almost felt the need to let a few tears shed as well but held up the strong fort for your sake. If he had cried too, that would’ve been the end of your little steamy session, and Chan knew better than to take the promise of pleasure away from you. So he squished your cheeks with both hands and planted kiss after kiss against your puffy lips, not letting you breathe as he did so.
“Love you so much more, you’ll never understand.”
Pressing his forehead against yours, not letting his eyes stray from your glistening ones, he continued to fuck into you until your body began to feel like it was floating and you were locking him between your legs in a vice grip, finally closing your eyes as the high stole your vision with a white blur. Chan’s head fell to the side of yours, still holding on when the pulsing of your walls finally let him give in to the euphoria he’d been trying so hard to keep at bay because truth be told, he almost came as soon as you said you loved him.
Bodies damp and tired, Chan would’ve collapsed on top of you if not for his knees tucked below him. Kissing you slowly, feather light and cherishing, he slipped away for just a moment to grab tissues off the nightstand and wipe you clean, then reaching for a clean pair of his boxers to slip up your legs. He giggled when he realized how much bigger they were and weren’t going to stay up.
The comforter was still neatly tucked under the corners of the bed, but Chan decided that while he had you here momentarily immobilized, he’d tuck and roll you into the blanket like a burrito, just your head sticking out of the top. “Nooo! I can’t hold you!” You complained, but laughed along with him anyway.
“It’s for your own good! So you can’t run away from me,” he challenged and wrapped himself around your blanket bundle tightly.
“I told you, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”
“You’re stuck with me, actually. I have you trapped with no escape.” He rubbed his nose into your cheek with a sleepy grin.
“Oh nooo, what will I do?” The fake worry made him sigh, but still smooch your cheek sweetly and roll over so he was on top of you again.
“What do you think will happen with the assistant and your boss?”
“You’re so nosy!” The two of you giggled much too loudly for how late at night it was.
He didn’t let you loose, choosing to keep you wrapped up tightly in the blanket, safe and sound and in his arms.
-
tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit. @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101@skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @leebitsimpracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz
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yelenasdiary · 3 months
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I saw your request were open and I’ve been dying to send you this request. I was wondering if you could do a top F reader x bottom Wanda. Reader is an eternal and their also deaf. They first met Wanda after the wandavision events. They have a one night stand and Wanda finds one she’s pregnant (reader has a penis} so now they’re trying to navigate the pregnancy and their relationship. They agree to do parent but as time goes on they start to fall in love! Please add a bunch of smut and fluff! Maybe some angst please
Take Me Home
Pairing:  Wanda Maximoff x Eternal, Fem! & Deaf! Reader
Summary:  A one night stand changes everything for the better.
Angst, Fluff & Brief Mention of Smut. 18+ ONLY, Minors & Men DNI!
Warnings: Mentions of Drinking, Reader has a penis, Unprotected Sex, Oral (Wanda Receiving), Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, Mentions of Abortion | 2.5K
AC: Please know that I am not Deaf. So I write this purely on research, if I have said anything wrong or offensive, please kindly message me so I can fix it. I mean absolutely no harm. Reader communicates via sign language, so all conversations are in italics, this means they are signing and not verbally speaking. Thank you for sending this, although I didn’t include a full smut scene I still hope you enjoy this! x
Cupid's Dream Masterlist
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Two pink lines stared back at her while her heart skipped a beat. She knew it was true before she even took the test, tears filled her eyes as she remembered the events that took place in Westview. Now in hiding, the ex-Avenger only had herself to fall back on. It was the one time she decided to grab a hot meal at the local bar near her remote mountainside cabin in the woods of Sokovia when she met you. 
You were having a few drinks by yourself when the woman sat only inches beside you at the bar. She was troubled, her sad presence screamed to you as you turned to her slightly and gave her a soft welcoming smile. She smiled back, even though she could barely bring herself to form the returning smile. 
“Rough Day?” you asked in sign language. She nodded, “rough couple of months” she signed back.
“Here, let me.” You smiled once more before placing a $10 bill on the bar to pay for her drink, “it seems you need something good right now” you signed. 
“Thank you” the woman smiled softly before taking a sip of her wine. 
She intrigued you to say the least, you’d never seen her around here before and assumed she was new to the small town, if you’d even call it that. The small street of buildings was only built for loggers that worked high in the mountains; it had the essentials. A small general store for basic needs, a mechanic and hardware store, a bakery, a doctor’s office and of course the bar which also acted as a restaurant. A small population of 100 people lived around here, well, 101 now that you’d made a cabin home for the past three months. 
You tried to go back to doing your own thing, having a drink, and completing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper but the woman’s running mind distracted your focus. You turned to face her only to notice she was already looking at you. Her eyes spoke a million words and suddenly you knew she wasn’t like anybody else in the bar. 
“Do you want to go for a walk?” you asked. She was hesitant at first, taking another sip of her drink so she didn’t waste your money, but she nodded.
“Are you here for me?” Wanda asked while the two of you walked slowly down the single road street covered in snow. “No. I am just a stranger you met in a bar” you replied with a soft smile in hopes it would ease her worries. It didn’t take Wanda very long to work out that you weren’t like everybody else in this town, there was a different kind of communication between the two of you. She could hear your thoughts just as much as you could hear hers. Although you knew very little of the woman, you knew enough to know she was in pain. 
----
Wanda’s mind replayed that night after you’d walked her home. How her nails dug deeply into your back as your lips were interlocked with hers and the way you reach for the bedsheets as your tongue overstimulated her clit but more importantly, she remembered the way you made her feel and how she’d never felt the things you made her feel, how you were able to make her forget even just for that night how much she was truly hurting. 
Those thoughts brought her back to the two pink lines staring back at her. “Fuck” she mumbled quietly to herself as she placed the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t having a moment while washing her hands that her twin boys that she missed deeply and how badly she wished to hold them just once more. 
Wanda rang your doorbell, a blue light flickered throughout your small cabin to alert you somebody was at the door. Wanda was the last person you expected to be standing on the other side, even if you sensed it was her before you even turned the knob. 
“Wanda how are you?” you asked, greeting her with a soft smile. She didn’t return the smile; her eyes were slightly puffy and red. “Is everything okay?” you asked. 
“Can I come in? we need to talk” she replied. You nodded, moving to the side to allow her to walk into your home. “I’m really sorry to come here out of the blue” she turned to you as you closed the door behind her. 
“Don’t stress, it’s okay. Not sure how you found my address but it’s okay” you chuckled in hopes it would lighten the mood, but it didn’t. 
“I’m pregnant” she said, getting to the point. The news shocked you a little but explained why you felt she didn’t arrive alone. “I don’t expect you to do anything or even want to be a part of this. I just thought you had a right to know” Wanda added. 
“It takes two to tangle, are you okay?” you replied trying to process the news. Wanda’s eyes filled with tears as she shrugged, “I d-don’t know, I made some mistakes that lead me to the reason why I even moved here” she explained, wiping the falling tears from her cheeks. You knew what she was talking about, you were an Eternal, of course you knew but you weren’t allowed to do anything about the events of Westview, and you didn’t ask too many questions about the situation. 
“I don’t want you to worry about anything, I am here for you and the baby. Whatever you decide to do, I am here. If you want to keep it, we will work it out. If you want to have an abortion, I will be there to hold your hand” you smiled ever so softly before you reached to get her a tissue. Wanda looked you in the eyes, allowing you to hear all her worries and concerns. 
You reached for her hand, “you’re not alone. We are in this together” you assured her. “We barely know each other. I do not expect you to step up like this” Wanda replied. 
“Let’s start with meeting up for coffee, well, decaf coffee. How does that sound? We can get to know each other more and talk about what is on your mind and if you want to go through with this or not” you offered. 
Wanda nodded as a light smile tugged at her lips, “I would like that, thank you”.
----
As the weeks went on, you and Wanda met for coffee three times a week. Most of the conversations were about getting to know one another and sometimes Wanda would bring up a worry or concern she had. You never asked her if she had made a decision on whether she would be keeping the baby or not, you felt that was something she would tell you when she was ready. 
Of course, one of Wanda’s most worrying concern was the baby’s health and what it meant for the baby to be born with the shared genes of a Witch and an Eternal. Both with so much power and abilities, it was something that Wanda couldn’t shake. This led to you telling her everything you knew about your abilities and powers. 
“This baby is going to be more than a handful of surprises” Wanda smiled softly making your eyes widen with excitement. 
“Does this mean you’ve made a decision?” you asked. Wanda nodded, “I want to have this baby. I want to do this with you and its okay if you don’t want to do this” she replied. You stood up from your seat and embraced Wanda in a hug, “I want to do this with you as well” you smiled as you both pulled away.
“I guess this means we have a lot more to talk about” Wanda smiled. 
----
You didn’t want to miss a single moment during Wanda’s pregnancy, it was a conversation that you brought to the table before Wanda asked if you’d like to come spend a couple nights a week at her place. You loved cooking for her every night and making her breakfast in bed when her morning sickness went away. After so many years of seeming almost everything, you never thought you’d find something so special again. 
Life was growing in front of your eyes, you finally had something to be excited about once again. A new chapter was opening up for you, a new life, a life you never thought you’d be able to have so the thought never crossed your mind and Wanda could see just how happy you were. She saw the smile on your face whenever she caught you admiring the ultra-sound photo, she saw the sparkle in your eyes whenever the two of you had a conversation about the baby. 
But for Wanda, it wasn’t the same. Although she was happy about having a baby, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking of her boys and how she wondered what they would think of a baby sibling. She wondered how they would react, she wondered if they would wish for a baby brother or sister, she wondered if they had their own name ideas to add to the list you and Wanda had slowly began to dot down. 
“What were they like? Your boys” you asked Wanda one night while she was lost in thought. She looked at you and smiled softly at the thought of talking about her twins. “They were perfect. Tommy is my little prankster” she starts with a chuckle, “he was always getting himself in all sorts of mischief. Billy, he was the opposite. He loved video games and training our dog Sparky. Both boys loved their ice cream and movie night” the smile on her lips only grew wider as she talked more about the beloved twins. 
“They sound like a lot of fun; you must miss them” you placed a hand on top of Wanda’s for comfort. 
“I do, a lot” A tear rolled down her cheek. You could tell she needed a shift of conversation and offered to make her a banana split milkshake to fill her cravings. 
----
At six months, you and Wanda had grown closer. You were both wanting this co-parenting plan to work and began to look around for a home to move into together. The two of you would decorate the nursey together, Wanda using her powers to move the furniture around to save the hassle of you both burning yourselves out doing it. You went to every doctor’s appointment with Wanda and kept every ultra-sound photo they offered. Wanda loved seeing how excited and happy you were and as time went on, she found herself becoming more comfortable with the fact the twins weren’t here to share this new chapter with her. 
“How did you book this place?” Wanda asked after the waiter seated you both. It was Wanda’s birthday and you wanted to do something special for her, so you booked reservations at a restaurant she’d been talking about a lot recently. 
“I know the owner, they kind of owe me a favour” you replied before picking up the menu. Things had slightly been a little different between you both, usually you could hear each other’s thoughts and feelings but recently you had trouble connecting with Wanda that way. You thought maybe it was something to do with the pregnancy and maybe she just wanted that extra bit of privacy, so you tried not to think about it as much, but it was hard when you found yourself falling for her. 
“This is certainly a surprise, thank you” Wanda smiled. You returned the smile but quickly used the menu to hide the blushing of your cheeks. This was a new feeling that you had no control over. 
“Has something happened? Between us?” Wanda asked shortly after finishing her main meal, you shook your head before taking a mouthful of your drink. “Not at all, have I done something to make you think that?” you asked. 
“You just seem a little distant lately, that’s all” Wanda replied. 
“I’m sorry. I just thought that with only a few months left until the baby arrives that you might want some more alone time” you explained, not entirely a lie but a good enough excuse to stop her from thinking it was something more. 
“You know, we have spoken a lot about myself over the last few months but you don’t like to share much. I am here for you like you are for me and if you want to talk about anything, you can talk to me. We’re in this together, remember?” Wanda said looking deeply into your eyes. You took another mouthful of your drink and deep breath before replying. 
“I used to have a family and friends, but some went back to planet Olympia, some stayed on Earth and are trying to live a normal life, but I never felt like I fitted in anywhere. Not here and not in Olympia. I have been on my own for many years and I was getting tired of living this repetitive life. But when you said you wanted to keep the baby, everything changed for me. You have given me something new and exciting, a new life and I don’t want to ruin it because of something I can’t control” you explained.
“Why would you think you would ruin this? I would never stop you from being in our baby’s life if things didn’t work out with our plan” Wanda assured you. 
“Feelings weren’t apart of the plan” you replied. 
Wanda froze for a moment before she stood from her seat, you did the same thinking she was leaving but instead she walked up to you and gently cupped your face and kissing you deeply. You kissed her back, your hands resting gently on her lips, ever so slightly pulling her closer to you as you deepened the kiss. 
“Take me home” Wanda smiled softly as you both pulled away for air.
----
You woke up to find Wanda’s side of the bed empty, there was only one place she would be. You walked down the hall and there she was, cradling your baby girl back to sleep. The sight in front of you made you smile softly before you walked up behind Wanda, wrapping your arms around her and placing a kiss on her cheek. Wanda smiled softly, never taking her eyes off the little girl in her arms. 
Your body moved with Wanda’s until the little girl’s eyes came to a close and Wanda carefully placed her back in her crib. She turned in your arms to face you, kissing you softly. 
“I know it was your turn to tend to her, but I couldn’t help myself. She’s perfect” Wanda smiled. “Next time, wake me. I don’t want to miss a single thing” you replied before kissing her once more.
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webslingingslasher · 11 months
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how about something where peter and reader are having sex but reader gets a bad calf cramp midway. peter tries to help by massaging the leg but he's just laughing really hard. overall v funny and crack. love your work btw!
w: smutty smutty, a little name calling.
Your arms are glued to Peter’s while he thrusts into you, you grip him tightly trying to keep him close. The sheen that covered his body made him both sticky and sweaty. 
“Fuck!” 
The back of your head rubs against his pillow, his hands push higher on the backside of your knees, you’re fully spread open and he continues to push further, you’ve never felt him so deep. 
“Baby, you’re… fuck,” you can’t even compliment him, you’re a million percent cockdrunk at the moment. 
You could kiss your left knee with how high Peter had it pushed up, he grunts at the new angle and thrusts deeper. You shoot out a cry of pleasure, his words come out between clenched teeth. 
“So good, you’re doing so good for me.” 
You whimper and whine along with his praises, you’re so lost your words tumble out. 
“Thank you, thank you, you know me so well.” 
Your boyfriend grunts but a smile takes over, he slows down and puts a hand on your cheek. Your mind races but his touch grounds you a little, you push your hips into his, trying to get back the momentum. 
“Are you thanking me for fucking you?” 
You try to clasp your hands around his neck and he narrowly misses, you roll your hips into his taking control. 
“You were being so nice, now you’re being mean.” 
A sarcastic pout takes over his face, he pushes his body down, anchoring himself into place with an arm by your head, the other hand takes your leg to push it over his hip. In one fluid motion he thrusts into you hard, you lose your breath and gasp against the pillow. 
“This what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck you hard and deep?” 
He keeps going, drilling in and out and your mind spins with pleasure. 
“C’mon, baby. Said I was being mean, is this better?” 
Your fingernails pierce the skin on his shoulders, your boyfriend's aggressive words made you slicker, you can hear the difference in sounds and know he can feel it on his end. 
“Like that? You like when I make you needy? Like you’re a dirty slut who-” 
A punch to his chest, panicked words usher from your mouth. 
“Out! Get out of me!” 
He didn’t mean to take it that far, he thought you liked it, it felt like you liked it. Peter paused, his motions stopped but he didn't move. 
Your leg had slipped down on his thigh and you were met with a wicked cramp that you needed to step down on to fix it, the pain and pressure was spreading up your thigh, a true life or death moment. You pushed at his chest to get him to move but he was frozen, you let out a yelp and threw his shoulders away the best you could. 
“Get the fuck off of me!” 
More aggressive than you meant but, fuck, charley horses were the worst cramps imaginable. 
Peter finally snaps into motion and pulls out of you quicker than he normally would’ve, you hiss at the feeling but jump from the bed, he watches you with scared eyes. He shouldn’t have said that, called you a dirty slut, he was just talking in the moment. 
The second you’re able to stand you deflate with air, the pulling motion eased. You finally had control of your leg back, it was tender as all hell from being locked up but it was your leg again. Picking it up and pressing your weight back down you felt ready enough to finish what’s been started. 
You flop back down to the bed and open back up, “ready.” 
Peter doesn’t move, you look down at the foot of the bed. His eyes are focused on yours, he looks scared. 
“Are you-” 
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking and it was a just in the moment thing and I didn’t mean it.” 
You squint your eyes and look at his face, “what?” 
Peter’s arms fly out to cup your face, you have squished cheeks and are forced to look in his eyes as he hovers over you. 
“I don’t think you’re a slut. Like, at all.” 
You bat his hands away, “I didn’t think you did but, thanks for the vote of confidence.” 
Well, now he has no idea why you threw him off. 
“I thought you didn’t like it.” 
You sit up with him, “calling me a slut?” 
A nod, you retraced the steps and let out an “ohhh,” then shake your head and smile at your boyfriend. 
“I had a cramp! I feel like you know how much I liked you saying that.” 
Peter’s hand was thrown over his chest, telling his heart it can stop going so fast. 
“I thought you did, but then I thought I went too far, thank god.” 
You scoff and tilt your leg open more. 
“Not far enough, now give my leg a rub down and fuck me like a dirty slut.” 
His fingers dig into the plush of your calf, already tenderizing the area, “yes, ma’am.” 
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ghost-proofbaby · 11 months
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who could stay? (you could stay.) (eddie munson x reader)
summary: you're convinced that being loved comes with a cost. he finds a way to prove you wrong. (wc: 9.7k+)
order up! i've got one ash's special for anonymous. ♡
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Keep going, keep going, keep going. 
Agree to run that errand for someone. Offer a shoulder to cry on for that person. Fix that problem for this friend. Keep going, keep offering, keep becoming indispensable. 
You couldn’t pinpoint the exact age you’d figured out the formula. You can never know for sure if the day was sunny or if it were rainy, if it were a calm December morning or a buzzing July night, but those details aren’t very important. The only important detail is that you had finally cracked the code at some point – you had finally figured out the solution to feeling unlovable. And that was that, truthfully, there wasn’t a solution. Once you were destined to feel this way, to feel so sour at your core, there is no easy way to rid yourself of that rotten pit. It would always be there – always churning, always burning, always yearning. Yearning to be loved, yearning to feel those waves of warmth cascading over your brain and down your spine, the ones others had always described to you but you’d just never… experienced. Never became familiar with.
It felt like everyone was playing an over-elaborate prank on you. They’d all conspired against you, invented a false feeling in which someone claims to feel loved, only to sit back and watch as you fumbled to find it. They’d laughed as you dug through a graveyard of relationships, caked your fingernails with dirt as you sobbed and would continue to claw deeper, trying to find just one set of bones that might hold that warmth for you. 
The only solution to that detrimental feeling of being unlovable, was to feel needed. 
You needed to feel so necessary, so essential, to everyone around you at all times. It never mattered how much of you it took. You’d give away every piece of yourself a million times over just to feel wanted at some capacity, even if that capacity were one you’d forced upon the other person. You didn’t care if you’d built the glass cages of theirs – you just cared that they kept you around to wipe away any smudges that appeared. 
Being wanted wasn’t quite the same as being loved. And if you thought about that for too long or too often, you might just break irrevocably. 
“I just don’t understand him,” Nancy sighs from the head of your bed, reclining against a wall of pillows you’d lined your headboard with. Two of which were body pillows. Long tubes of fluff to try and fill lonely spaces, you suppose, “Why didn’t he just tell me he didn’t want to go to the same college? Why… Why do I feel like I am forcing him to be with me?” 
Because you are. Just like I force you all to need me. 
“I don’t know, Nance.” 
That bland, bitter, half-thought out answer lingers on your tongue, almost burns your throat with the whisper of say more, say something useful, say something comforting. It’s the whisper of those four words not being enough. It’s the whisper of that threat that those four words could be the beginning of the end, the thing that makes Nancy realize she doesn’t need you. 
After all, what use is a friend that can’t give good advice, or be supportive during relationship rants? 
You open your mouth to add on something sweeter, something to coat the conversation like honey and smooth out the lines forming on Nancy’s forehead, but she beats you to it, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” 
Yes. “It’s fine,” at least that wasn’t a lie – you’d dug this specific grave, had rooted down tooth and nail only to find another empty coffin of a friendship curtained with want instead of love. You’d all but asked for this, “What he did really was shitty. It’s not fair to you.” 
The words are almost robotic, telling Nancy Wheeler what she wants to hear rather than what she needs to hear.  You don’t always do that, you do make a point of investing in the truth from time to time to truly secure your position as someone who is genuinely needed in her life, but the headache nagging at your temples tells you it’s not worth the fight tonight. You’re tired, you’re agitated, and you really just want to get Nancy to the point of contentment in her rambling so that you can send her on her way. 
God, you’re an awful friend. 
It turns you quiet, a ricocheting thought that bruises your inner skull the rest of the time Nancy sits on your bed. The guilt eats you alive for that moment of irritation the rest of the night. Even after Nancy goes home, even after you’ve brushed your teeth and you’ve tucked yourself into bed. The guilt gnaws on the edges of that emptiness inside of you, that ever-present black hole that already existed, and says this is why you cannot be loved. 
Maybe the pity party for feeling like a bad friend is what makes you a bad friend. 
And maybe if you were a better friend, you would be loved instead of wanted for once. 
It’s all part of a cycle, never-ending and treacherous. It’s always been this way. You make promises to your friends and rip yourself to shreds before remolding yourself into whatever they need; giving rides to the younger kids within your circle to the pool all summer which evolved into taking turns with Steve as to who would pick them all up after their D&D club ran late every Friday night, always lending a listening ear to Nancy once Johnathan moved away and she’d had to witness her relationship and her love vanishing in real time, always being the one person who will listen to Robin ramble for hours about her sudden interests. None of it was born of ill-intent, but when you’d go home lonesome at the end of the night, you could see it all for what it was. 
You were trying to fill a void. A hollow rot, a black hole. And it was only working half the time. 
Half the time, until he came along. 
And make no mistake, his arrival was as bloody as anyone who had previously entered your life. For a while there, you believed his headstone was at the end of the line already, sanctioned away in this graveyard of the ability to be loved. He came crashing into your life on a random Friday night, and you had sworn you could already see the end as it began, but you had been wrong. 
“So, you’re the infamous babysitter.” 
His voice caught you off guard. You’d been sitting in your car with your windows down, enjoying the reprieve of a cooling autumn evening as you waited for the boys to finish up with their D&D club. With your head buried in the latest sci-fi novel that Dustin had recommended and would no doubt be grilling you on once he got in the car, you hadn’t even heard the club exit the school. 
“Nope,” you fought a smile as you glanced up from the pages to see an older guy standing there, closer to yours and Steve’s age than the kids. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this was the famous Eddie all the boys would ramble on about for hours on end, “Harrington’s the babysitter. I’m just the taxi driver.” 
There was something particularly pretty in the way he threw his head back with laughter at your words. Curls that messily fell just beyond his shoulders, full lips disappearing as his teeth peeked through and shined beneath the parking lot’s lamp posts. His denim vest looked purposefully distressed with a mirage of patches and pins, and he was wearing a leather jacket beneath it, even if it wasn’t quite cold enough for it yet outside. He was cute – and watching him laugh because of you sparked something irreversible inside of you. 
“C’mon now,” he sighed as his cackles quieted, “Give yourself more credit than that. At least call yourself something fancy, like ‘chauffeur’.” 
“Ah, but ‘taxi driver’ insinuates that I charge them,” you don’t miss a beat, and your quick wit has him chuckling again. 
You caught sight of his eyes, corners creased with joy – brown. They were deep, russet, tantalizing brown. Almost indiscernible from his pupil in the dark. 
“I’m Eddie, by the way.”
You took his hand that he shoved through your open window with ease, and felt an immediate shiver run down your spine. Not quite from the cold, but not quite warm. You saw the first flash of his grave, and you knew you’d be digging your greedy hands into it soon enough. 
As you gave him your name in return, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone. 
You had been half right that night. You wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone, you would be seeking out the impossible from Eddie – but so would he. 
It quickly became apparent that Eddie was a pest. Someone who weaseled his way into the lives of others, who made his presence felt and never forgotten. 
You’d started with the same slow dance as you did with every new person, a hesitant dipping of your toes into their waters, unsure if your presence in their life would only cause more trouble than you’re worth, when you quickly discovered that nothing could ever be hesitant or slow with Eddie Munson. He’s the one constantly reaching out to you. Driving the kids home now takes double the time it used to, long conversations being had with him that has the kids dragging you away, practically begging to just be taken home. The day he’d asked for your number, you couldn’t tell which one of you burned brighter red. And the moment he had your number in his clutches? Forget about it. You never heard the end of Eddie Munson, and you never really wanted to. 
Unlike your friends you already had and loved deeply, Eddie was observant. 
It’s within the first month of knowing you that he had picked up on your insecurities. Maybe he hadn’t directly seen that gaping hole in your chest yet, but he noticed your habit of running yourself dry to see others thrive. 
The need to be needed. He picked up on it quickly. 
“What about Sunday?” Eddie’s voice traveled over the line as you laid on your stomach, stretched out across your bed for a few moments of rest before you had to get up and take the cookies you’d baked for Steve and Robin into Family Video, just like you had promised, “I’m free then if I finish all my fuckin’ homework on Saturday night.”
Surprisingly, that phone call with Eddie hadn’t been something expected or planned. It had been impulsive; in a rare moment of peace, you found yourself craving to hear his voice. Somehow, the two of you had ended up trying to figure out a free day to properly hang out. Eddie wanted to go to Benny’s for milkshakes, and you wouldn’t turn down the free fries he also promised.
“I can’t,” you paused just to hear his predictably dramatic sigh, grinning as you continued to explain, “I’m taking Max to the skatepark that day.”
“And it’s going to take all day?” 
“It could!”
“There’s absolutely no way.”
“You clearly haven’t seen that girl skate.” 
The conversation continued, light-hearted enough with plentiful jokes made. Something about talking with Eddie made your heart lighter, the usual unbearable and contradictory weight of emptiness no longer on your mind as you listened to him ramble about something that had happened in one of his classes – a teacher tried to embarrass him when he caught Eddie doodling for a D&D campaign by asking him a question, not expecting him to know the answer. Eddie had, of course, leaving the teacher baffled with a smirk.
 It’s all about my charm, sweetheart, he responded when you asked how he hadn’t earned a detention from that. 
Only towards the end of the call, when the conversation finally lulled and the two of you found yourselves settled into a comfortable silence, did Eddie finally circle back to the beginning of your conversation. 
“You know,” he started, “When I first met you, I never took you to be someone so…”
“Amazing? Wonderful? Funny?” you jokingly attempted to finish his sentence.
“Busy.” 
Oh. You hadn’t expected that one. 
“Busy?” you repeated back to him, “I’m not that busy.” 
Your mind immediately started racing with thoughts of what he had meant. Was he feeling neglected? Maybe you should have canceled on Max on Sunday, agreed to Benny’s with him instead. No, you couldn’t bear Max’s disappointment. Maybe you could tell Max you had a time constraint, even though you knew she hated those when it came to her skating days. Was there any other plans you could abandon? Anyone else you could bear to let down for the sake of not leaving Eddie high and dry? No, no – all your other weekend plans involved going to the movies with Robin, helping Steve look into colleges finally, taking the boys to the Starcourt mall to shop for supplies to make figurines for their newest campaign. The room was suddenly getting smaller, your chest constricting, your head spinning. You couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing any of those people, no, but what about Eddie? Maybe he was right in feeling neglected, maybe you deserved whatever guilt was to come from whatever his next words would be. He was your friend, you were supposed to make time for h-
“Sweetheart,” he scoffed over the line, and you swore you heart stopped right then and there, “You’re the highest thing in demand since Cabbage Patch Kids last Christmas – and trust me, I should know how in demand those fuckers were. I worked seasonally at the mall, remember?” 
Your breath caught. He was feeling neglected. You weakly began your apology as tears were already filling your eyes, that panic turning over itself in your gut, “I’m-”
“And it’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong,” It’s clear your voice had been too soft, too weak, for him to hear you, “Just means I’ve gotta fight harder to be worth your time, am I right?” 
You had to clear your throat, but it did nothing to subsidize that anxiety that rattled your bones. It’s blatantly evident as your voice shook with a second attempt at an apology, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean- I can… I’ll… Just tell me when for Benny’s. I can make it work, I swear-”
“Woah, woah, woah.” 
He had to have heard the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. The shake of your breath as you’d stuttered over your words, grasping for a solution. 
“You don’t need to apologize for that,” his voice was soothing and soft, the most gentle it had been the entire night. You pinched your eyes shut and just tried to imagine those stupid, big doe eyes, those ungodly messy curls (you’d started to tease him about if he ever even brushed or combed them). The panic remained, but Eddie’s voice started to give it a run for its money, “I was just playing around. You know that, right?” he paused to give you room to answer, but your throat was still tightly squeezed by overwhelming emotion, overwhelming fear of having scorned Eddie, “You could only have enough time in your schedule to see me once a year, and I’d still be your friend. We could only have these random phone calls, even if they were never longer than a minute, and you’d still be worth it. You know that, right?” Another pause, another wave of silence from your end, “Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.” 
Each word made the panic settle. You weren’t sure how he did it. You weren’t sure how mortified you should be that he had only been in your life for a month at most, and had just overheard you at your most vulnerable. 
All you were sure of was that you believed him. 
“Okay,” you croaked, finally feeling that ring of fear loosen, vocal chords finally functioning once more. 
“Okay,” Eddie repeated back in that same gentle, soothing, soft tone. 
You weren’t disappointing him. You weren’t making him feel neglected. He still found use for you, he still wanted you around – he still needed your friendship. That had to be enough.  
It was quiet over the line for a few moments. 
It has to be enough, you reminded yourself. 
“Say,” you finally said, voice back to normal strength and the tears having dried themselves up for the most part. Your heart had almost returned to normal rhythm, “How does Benny’s sound tonight?”
“Tonight?” he chimed back, sounding as excited as a little kid the morning of a cherished holiday, something like Christmas. 
A shiver ran down your spine. It’s not from the cold, and you tell yourself it’s not quite warmth – it can’t be warmth. 
“Tonight,” you confirmed, “With a detour by Family Video, if you don’t mind. I’ve got a special delivery of cookies to fulfill.” 
“What kind?”
“Excuse me?” 
You were grinning - God, you were a pathetic fool, grinning and clutching onto that phone like a lifeline. Like if you let go of it, you’d lose his voice, and if you lost his voice, that would be the end of the world. 
“What kind of cookies?”
“Chocolate chip.”
He hummed, not answering right away as if he were deliberating this information. When he finally spoke again, another shiver wrapped around your spine, spinning down, down down. Waves of what you almost believed were warmth. “Okay. I suppose I can be your taxi driver, for a price.”
“What’s your price?” 
“One cookie.”
“Deal.”
It had to be enough, because you were still clutching that telephone tightly to your cheek, long after the phone call ended with Eddie’s promise of being at your house soon enough. It had to be enough, because after that night, it became clear; the world would not end with the loss of just Eddie’s voice from your life, but the loss of Eddie, period. It was the first night of many in which you played a very, very dangerous game. 
Even with Nancy gone, you felt restless. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer in all that self-pity, still replaying the night and all you could have done differently. 
Had she caught on with how out of it you had been? Had she seen through your act and immediately assumed the worst – assumed you weren’t worth keeping around? 
The thoughts might be an overreaction. 
You were definitely overreacting. 
You didn’t really care that you were overreacting, though, because you really couldn’t control it. It was just another dark path you couldn’t stop your mind from traveling down. It was endless, and it was lonesome, and… and it was just normal. What should be devolving into a panic attack can only settle like an emptiness deep within your chest; you’ve been staring at the blank wall of your living room for so long without blinking, your eyes have gone dry. 
A pattern. That’s what the therapist said. You had a pattern for overthinking these interactions, for projecting feelings onto others that didn’t exist. You think all your friends hate you, you think that a stranger found your smile to be more of a grimace, you think your mom hasn’t called in months because she recognizes you as a failure finally. But none of it is actually what those people think. It’s like a mirror – you look into the eyes of others, and you see all your own insecurities reflected back. 
She’d asked you to work on it. To take a step back and just breathe, just remind yourself of that, whenever this happens. You’d decide whether you’d mention this minor slip up later. For now, you were going to wallow. You were going to spiral with just you, this damn blank wall, and maybe even the bottle of wine in the fridge. 
Yes, your mind was made up, and you force yourself to stand from the couch and wander into the kitchen, eyes still dry and chest still caving in on itself as you open the fridge. 
That’s as far as you get. Your fridge is wide open, the bright luminescent light flooding your kitchen floor in time with the trickling chill that sneaks up on your warm cheeks and already numb toes, when you spot it. 
A box of takeout. It’s old enough now you could throw it out, you had known the moment he’d taken the last of his meal to-go that he wouldn’t finish it. Teased him about it, even. But he was stubborn and you weren’t capable of turning down the opportunity to let another piece of him, another flash of evidence of his place in your life, occupy this apartment. So there it sat, a half-eaten burger he hadn’t revisited. 
But he had revisited the apartment – revisited you. He’d been here every night this week, and you’d practically had to shove him out on the street to get him to leave this morning to get to work on time. 
The edges of that emptiness that weighs down your insides blur, already lightening microscopically as you slam shut the fridge and forgo the wine completely to grab the phone instead.
“You don’t have to always take care of everyone, you know,” he murmured as he joined you in the kitchen to retrieve popcorn for the gang, everyone gathered in the living room for a movie night. 
“Pardon?” you asked, hardly glancing over your shoulder as you punched in the designated time for the microwave to turn the kernels into an easy, mouth-watering snack of butter and crunch. 
“You always take care of everyone. You don’t have to.”
His words rang clearer that time, loud enough to have stopped you in your tracks. You paused mid-reach, the cabinet for the Harrington’s bowls wide open and shelves nearly too tall for you. 
“I-” you weren’t sure exactly what to say, “What do you mean?” 
His brows scrunched, eyes having narrowed in the slightest in your direction, “Please don’t play dumb right now.” 
“I’m not playing dumb. I’m trying to get popcorn for our movie night,” you waved your hand towards the shelves lined with bowls for emphasis on your point, “That’s not really taking care of everyone – it was just being polite. Steve’s hosting, it’s the least I can do.” 
“The least you can do? The least you can do is actually just sit with friends, enjoy the movie,” the crease between his brow deepened, eyeing you with an unfamiliar concern. You shifted beneath the weight of his gaze. 
You don’t know what to say. Except, “It’s not that serious.” 
He scoffed, and you nearly flinched from it. Fear threatened to bubble up – he’s upset, he’s getting irritated at you. He’s getting tired of you. 
You waited for him to say something more as the buzz of the microwave filled the tense space, but he remained silent. Brooding. 
“What?” your voice shook, your entire being torn between succumbing to all that fear and anxiety in upsetting him further and that voice in the back of your mind that urged you to push him, to hear what he really thought. “I know you have something more to say.” 
“In the six months I’ve known you, you haven’t taken a single break for yourself.” 
He met your push, stood his ground and didn’t let it put any distance between you two. It felt like a goddamn revelation, right there in the Harrington kitchen. 
“I take plenty of breaks, Eddie,” you tried to laugh off, “I do spend time away from you all, hard as that may be to belie-”
“Hardly,” he cut you off as sharply as the first resonating pop that echoed from the microwave. 
“What’s your point? I just like being around you guys. Like I said, it’s not that serious.”
This was the part where the distance would happen. You kept pushing, took the inch he’d given you to bite back and ran with it. Normally, you avoided conflict with any of your friends vehemently. Always afraid, always assuming the relationships to be so fragile and so delicate. You would take such care in never giving them a reason to hate you that you’d never taken to a battleground before.
But there had been a look in Eddie’s eyes that night. A shine that, breaking through all the worry for you, whispered, fight with me. Stand your ground with me. I’ll still call you tomorrow, no matter what words we exchange tonight. 
A safety net had formed that you’d never even noticed. That delicacy wasn’t needed here. You could pick up the sword, there in that kitchen, and it wouldn’t turn Eddie to smoke and shadows. 
“My point is…” he paused, he swallowed hard, he exhibited the delicacy that was usually expected from you, “You can like being around us. But you should put yourself first. At least once. At least on movie night.” 
“How is me making popcorn not putting myself first?” you got the question out, you took a deep breath, ready to go on some sort of defensive tirade for your habit you were well aware of.
He beat you to it, “Every day last week, you only got three hours of sleep, at most, before your shifts. You gave up sleep to hang out with us all way too late, refused to throw in the towel and go home before anyone else.”
“I could have napped-” 
“You didn’t nap,” he stressed, taking a step closer to you. The popping of the snack turning in the microwave was erratic, mere seconds left on the timer. Static noise to the conversation at hand, “I know you didn’t fucking nap after your shifts because you were immediately running errands for everyone else, or hanging out again. You offered to give Robin a ride to work every single day, and her shifts start… what, an hour after yours ended? And then you had to give her rides home, right? But in those hours she was at work, you were helping Dustin with an essay for school – that little fucker told me all about it. You were awake when Johnathan called you and we were all stoned off our asses, went and got us food we didn’t need but still wanted. We didn’t even expect you to pick up, you know? I told them, I swore to them, you wouldn’t pick up. You had a morning shift. You were scheduled literal hours from when we called you. But you picked up. You fucking picked up, and you went and got the fucking food for us fucking idiots.”
Your brain completely malfunctioned. You couldn’t comprehend how he was saying all of these things that should be good things, things that proved you were needed and you were reliable, but with such venom in his tone. 
Anger had sparked within you as you pictured how giddy Dustin had been over the B he’d earned on his essay, that sincere appreciation on Robin’s face every time she left your car last week, the dopey grin that Argyle had worn when you’d arrived with their food order in your pajamas. All previously things to fuel you, filling that aching hole inside of you, now being tarnished because he was concerned.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you seethed at him, “Would you prefer I hadn’t been awake? Would you prefer I let Dustin just… get a fucking F on that essay? Or Robin walks to work?” 
“Yes!” 
You were both shocked at the sudden volume in your voices. The quickness in his reply. The quiver in your lip. 
“Yes,” he breathed out, quieter this time, “I would prefer those things if it meant you were taking care of yourself. The word ‘no’ should be in your vocabulary, sweetheart. I… The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.”
But you all needing me might.
“Just… just…” your breaths came out in huffs, eyes downcast and unwilling to meet Eddie’s stare. A final push, and it came out more fragile than you’d ever intended, “Just mind your business, Eddie.” 
He opened his mouth to say more, but the microwave started to go off, signaling what you saw as the end of the conversation – the fight. You’d raised your voice at him, you’d swung that sword in his direction, and he hadn’t vanished. His friendship – he – wasn’t as breakable as you’d thought. 
You spun on your heel, you took the popcorn out and divided it into bowls for the group, busying your hands in any way possible. All the while, he never left the kitchen. He stood just feet away from you and let you do what needed to be done, and only stopped you as you turned to exit the kitchen with the snacks acquired. 
His hand caught onto your elbow, “You have bags.” 
“Excuse me?”
“You have bags under your eyes,” he elaborated. He no longer looked frustrated, but defeated, a morose distress pinching the edges of his feature.
“Jesus,” you were now scoffing, adjusting your grip on those bowls, “You really know how to compliment a girl, don’t you?”
“They’ve been there for months,” his grip refused to loosen, thumb trailing over the crease in your arm, “Please don’t run yourself into the ground.” 
You gave him a cold shoulder as you left him behind to rejoin your friends, unable to shake his consternation. It was so genuine, it terrified you. It made your insides churn, it turned your anxious attachment to dust. 
It made a shiver of warmth travel down your spine. 
The empty space beside you on the couch only remained for seconds after you’d passed around the bowls, keeping one for yourself. He was back there, back at your side, as if the two of you hadn’t just exited a battle ground. As if a stand-off hadn’t just occurred, as if it all hadn’t ended in a draw. 
He looked at you with those eyes.
Fight with me. Stand your ground with me. Don’t walk away from me. I will still call tomorrow.
He did more than call that night. As the movie started, he didn’t so much as flinch when your head fell to his shoulder in exhaustion. He only tucked an arm around your shoulders, only shifted you to be more comfortable as you used him as a personal pillow. He glared at everyone in warning not to grill you on the plot of the movie when you’d awoke mildly disappointed, he’d let you sleep on the drive home. He never once brought the fight back up. 
And he still called the next day. 
After your shift, he was the first voice you heard after dragging your feet into your apartment. A brief apology was exchanged before it was back to business as usual between you two. And somewhere between his rambles, you fell asleep with your phone balanced half-haphazardly between your cheek and shoulder. You could only dream of the grin he wore when he’d hear your soft snores over the line, quieting down immediately to let you rest. He never hung up – he was content to sit on a hushed line if only for the assuredness that you were finally resting. 
The warmth no longer traveled down your spine, instead curling up timidly near that hole inside of you. You let it. 
“Munson residence!”
That warmth that had found home in your chest still remains to this day, rousing at Eddie’s voice over the line. It’s nearly enough to make you cry – the relief that floods you just by the sound of him and his endless chipper. His optimism that always seems to exist, even in contrast with those harsh edges he tries to portray. 
“Eddie,” you whisper, as if you’re not the only one in your apartment, “Can you… Are you free?” 
Even after a year, you still sometimes felt guilt, asking so much of him. Asking so much, and giving so little in return. 
But you weren’t the one who set that standard. Eddie had. Ferociously, fiercely, stubbornly. The insistence that you simply being was enough for him. 
“For you, sweetness?” he chuckles lowly. He recognizes your voice immediately; you never have to say it’s you calling. You could have shrugged it off as Caller ID, but you knew the Munson’s phone didn’t have that. No, he recognized you by voice only. He’d once joked that only you would one day be able to rouse him from the dead, based on the ‘sweet melody alone’. Recognition in death – you had managed to burrow your way so deeply into his life, you’d earned recognition in death. “Always. What’s up?” 
You could have just kept him on the phone. Had one of your infamous conversations about everything and nothing. Sat on the cold tiles of your kitchen and smiled like a child as you listened to him rant. But the cold chill of your lonesome apartment was becoming suffocating, and you remembered that take out in the fridge and the way one of his socks had ended up in your laundry last week. You remembered how you started keeping his favorite brand of beer in your fridge and how one of your pillows started to permanently smell like his aftershave.
He had a toothbrush in your bathroom. He had a key to your apartment. He had a space, here, in this lonesome apartment. And all you had to do was beckon to him, and he would come to fill it. Always. 
“Can you come over?” 
You don’t even have to explain yourself. He complies readily, whispers out a soft yes in the voice you’d also recognize even in death, and promises to be there within ten minutes. 
He makes it within eight. 
And you’re still leaning on your kitchen counter, your head still swimming dangerously with all the different ways you’d let down Nancy. Once upon a time, you might have worried about inviting him over, worried that your anxieties and your short-comings might bleed into your relationship with him. In the beginning, it had been simple enough. You kept him at an arm’s length away the moment you realized you couldn’t make yourself needed to him, not out of selfishness but out of fear. Fear, because if he didn’t need you, why would he stick around? 
Because without need, if you did the wrong thing, there was no necessary thread tying them to you. Because without need, there was no chance for the day that you might find love in your grave robbings, and you couldn’t handle the thought of someone like Eddie Munson deciding you weren’t worth his time. 
It hadn’t occurred to you for a very long time that maybe, possibly, you’d been going around the concept of love with a very wrong mindset. 
Your safe place. That’s what the back of the van had become over these sticky summer nights – your safest refuge. 
It was always the same scene; Eddie on his back beside you, lazily nursing a joint, while you sat up reading passages of the latest book you two had embarked on together. Sometimes it was poetry, sometimes it was fantasy, and sometimes, it was just a reread. That night, it was a reread. The Hobbit. 
“‘I don’t see that this will help us much,’ said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. ‘I remember the mountain well-’” you recited off of the page, when Eddie suddenly sat up abruptly and snatched the book from you. 
“No, no, no!” he wagged his finger at you after he discarded his joint into the ashtray you’d made him start keeping in the fan, “Sweetheart, you’re doing the voices all wrong.” 
You rolled your eyes at him, reaching to take the book back, “Not all of us have a Dungeon Master voice to whip out, Munson. Give it back.” 
“Absolutely not.” 
“Do I need to say please? I’ll say please.” 
It was best like this. Just the two of you, away from everyone else. Some nights, the two of you hadn’t even needed a book to bond over. You’d just gaze at stars, or indulge in whatever weed he’d brought along with him. He never pressured you, though – if you shook your head at his offer of the joint, that was that. He seemed to apply that to most aspects of your friendship this last year. 
You never had to prove anything to him. He saw your worth as if it were glaringly obvious, as if it were as simple of a concept as breathing. No extra effort needed from your end. 
Just by being, you had managed to become something important to him. He needed you, if only because you were you. 
“The puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work on me,” he snorted, shifting so that his shoulder pressed against your own. A warmth spreads from the point of contact. “Let the master show you how it’s done.” 
You tried to not let it show, but your grin was radiant. He was the master at those ridiculous voices, at theatrics and at bringing the story to life. You were transported from the shore of Lover’s Lake, in the back of that stuffy yet comforting van, to meadows of soft grass and hobbit holes of comfort. To a place where all the threats were mythical and all the expectations of you were released. 
You’d spent the week helping Steve finish up his college plans. His parents had tried to pressure him into picking his top three universities, but the moment he had confided in you that he might prefer a community college to begin, you’d held his hand as you guided him through the process. A rewarding process, have no doubt, but it had left you numb and reeling. Sharing someone else’s stress, shouldering their burdens – it had been a bit much.
You needed this. You needed Eddie’s ridiculous voices and the sharp press of his shoulder against your temple. 
“Falling asleep on me already?” he teased when he’d noticed how quiet you had gone. 
“Never,” you lied through a yawn that quickly exposed you. 
“Liar,” he huffed. You didn’t even need to glance up to confirm the smile you knew he wore. “We can head back home, if you need. I know it’s getting late-”
“No,” you quickly sat up, effectively making yourself dizzy, “No, I- It’s fine. I’m awake. I swear.”
“It’s okay that you were falling asleep,” he was quick to reach out, to tug you back down to his side, wrapping his arm around you to press you even closer than before, “I just don’t want to keep Cinderella out past Midnight.” 
“It’s barely ten.” 
“Nothing gets past you, Sherlock,” he scowled as you pressed your grin against his t-shirt clad shoulder, “I’m serious, though. Do I need to take you home?”
“No, Eddie. I’m good.”
“Swear it? Swear you don’t have an early shift, or some… some obligation?” 
“No shifts, no obligations.” 
“And if I just kidnap you for the weekend? Am I going to have an angry mob at my doorstep, demanding your service?” 
You smiled wider at the thought. The idea of him hiding you away, letting you live in this reprieve for the entire weekend. It was a nice thought, “I certainly wouldn’t complain.” 
And so the two of you sat there like that for an hour more. Eddie coming up with ridiculous tones for the various characters, you slipping in and out of consciousness as his warmth stayed wrapped around him. You don’t even notice when the warmth he’d planted in you finally covers up that hole inside of you, not even missing the absence of that emptiness until Eddie went quiet.
In the silence, you noticed it. 
The gash you’d grown accustomed to, the hole that had become an extra limb for you. Vanished. Gone. Disappeared without a trace.
It was a sudden and terrifying realization. Everything in you urged you to jump up, to scramble around you to find the darkness again, like a comfort blanket you couldn’t stand to lose. You went against the instinct, though, and rose slowly from Eddie’s hold. 
In lieu of scrambling, you peered at Eddie curiously. “Hey, Eds. Can I ask you something?” 
He nodded sleepily, almost as drowsy as you. You’re shocked when he shifts and instead of pulling you back to him, he opted to lay his head in your lap. 
That hole was still gone. The weight of his head on your thighs, the feeling of his breath on your bare thigh. For a moment, you can’t breathe. 
You’re warm. Not uncomfortably so, but encapsulated with an internal warmth. Like a fever spreading, the ice in your spine that you had lived with for years had begun to thaw. 
“Why do you keep me around?” you whispered, still sitting stiffly, staring in awe down at the way he just nuzzled his face into your lap.
With his eyes still closed, face smooth from any worry from the question, he mumbled, “What do you mean?” 
You only hesitated due to the thought crossing your mind; what if you bringing this up reminds him? 
You thought back to the night in Harrington’s kitchen. The push and the pull, the bloody battle and the way he still called.
He was not as delicate as you took him for. 
“I- What do you get out of this?” you couldn’t figure out how to phrase it correctly. You knew what you got out of this, but what does he get? 
“Get out of what?” 
“Get out of keeping me around.”
His eyes finally opened, twisting in your lap so that he could stare up at you. “You say that as if you’re forcing me to be your friend.” 
I could be, that nagging voice in your mind whispered. You could very well be forcing him, and just be blinded because you were enjoying the summer of warmth that he carried with him too much to let him go. 
“You never let me do anything for you,” you sighed, fingers finding themselves tangled in his roots against better judgment. But you needed to touch him, to ground yourself, as you admitted this hard truth, “You do shit for me all the time. You drive all the way out to this lake just because I complain about everything being too much. You’ve started playing chauffeur for the kids to give me a break. Harrington said you even offered to look at college brochures with him. And…. And I’m not stupid, Eds,” your voice shook as you looked down at him, a sudden feeling of undeserving striking you in your chest, “You do so much for me lately. And you don’t ask for anything in return – you don’t let me do anything in return. Why?”
His smile twisted with a hint of sadness, and brown eyes met your gaze without so much as flinching, “Sweetheart, why do you think you have to repay me for that stuff?”
“I-”
“No, hear me out,” he reached up, taking your hand out of his hair and lacing his fingers with yours, slowly dragging it down to rest on his sternum, “I chose to do that stuff. And, yeah, maybe I was trying to take some of that shit off your plate. But you didn’t ask me to. I chose to. I wanted to do those things, do nice things for you, because you won’t let anyone else.” 
You bit back a scoff, “I let people do nice things for me-”
“You really don’t,” his hold on your hand tightened, “You really, really don’t. You constantly…. You just, you take care of everyone else, but you act afraid to let someone take care of you. People are allowed to take care of you, too, y’know? You should let them. They love you – they want to take care of you, just like you take care of them.” 
They love you. 
The air drained from your lungs in a slow, silent sigh. You waited a few minutes, but the oxygen never replenished as you tried to grasp his words. 
They love you. 
Why would they love me? 
“Why wouldn’t they love you, sweetheart?” Eddie looked more concerned now, suddenly prepared to sit up and remove his head for your lap. But his hand still held yours tightly, still clung to you, “You know they love you, right? God, you gotta know that. We all love you.” 
You hadn’t realized you’d spoken the bitter thought out loud until he looked at you, utterly heartbroken, in complete disbelief. “I…”
No. I don’t know that. What have I done to deserve their love? 
“They need me, sure,” you started, narrowing your eyes at the breaks in the waves of Lover’s Lake, “I mean, I just try to make myself useful to them. It’s the least I can do when I… when they…” you struggled to get the words out. You saw that hole again, like a light at the end of the tunnel, but so far from the relief most mean by that metaphor. Something peeking around the corner, ready to devour you all over again. So you plunged, you prepared yourself for it to spring to life and take you whole as you nearly whimpered, “When they put up with me. It’s the least I can do when they put up with me.” 
“No one puts up with you,” Eddie’s voice cracked. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “Least of all me.” 
The deadliest of blows. He cracked your hardened surface with that, shook the foundations of every belief you’d held for eternity. 
“Most of all you,” you corrected without thinking, “God, I- Eddie, seriously. What reason do you have for keeping me around? I don’t know how the fuck you put up with m-”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” you’d never heard him beg so painfully before then, “Please. Don’t… You want to know my reason?” you nodded numbly, finally looking to find him with wet eyes and lips pressed into a fine line, “Because you’re you. I… Fuck, I love you. I keep you around because you’re you. You’re good for me. Whether you believe it or not. You’re good for me just by being you, and there’s nothing you have to do to accomplish that,” you started to look away before he grabbed your cheeks, turning you to face him as he emphasized each word, “You don’t have to earn love. That’s not what love is. Got it?” 
You looked into his eyes, and saw all the soft declarations of love echoed back to you, even from the very start. 
‘Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.’
‘The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.’
The entire time you’d been so worried about taking care of everyone else, he’d been worried about taking care of you. Endless late night phone calls, careful check-ins when he saw the exhaustion take the frontlines, sparse fights about putting yourself first. The only thing he ever wanted from you was for you to take care of yourself. 
While you were busy being there for everyone else, he was busy being there for you. 
He never once made you dig to the bottom of his grave to find the warmth. He’d handed it over on a silver platter. 
So how could you look him in his at that moment, and tell him that you didn’t ‘get it’? That you’d never been sure if what you were seeking from your friends was really love? That, really, you’d given up on being loved a long time ago, assuming it was asking too much? 
How do you look him in his eyes in that moment and tell him you had long since declared yourself unlovable? 
He didn’t make you say it. Only kept your cheeks pressed between his palms, as he leaned forward, forehead meeting yours and whispering words for only you, “I love you, no strings attached. You’re my… friend. I love you. Okay?”  
No one had ever fought so valiantly to get the point across. Not just that night at the lake, but in the entirety of his friendship with you. 
The hole slinked back behind the corner. The darkness decided it could wait another day. And in its place, warm brown eyes filled the void. Whether he even realized it or not. 
You nearly believed him. Nearly. But you bit down hard on that belief, throwing it out of sight, and instead of echoing back the ‘okay’ you assumed he was seeking out, all you did was sob out another, “Why?” 
When you collapsed into him, he held you. Your sobs remained dry, your confusion palpable as you clung to him and tried to let that belief envelope you like his arms had. 
I love you. 
How could someone love you? 
He didn’t press it the way you thought he would. He didn’t scold you for continuing to question him and he didn’t lash out at your disbelief. 
He just held you. Letting your face press into his neck as his fingers ran up and down your spine, giving it a moment before he started talking again. 
“Your humor,” he hummed after a couple moments of silence, heavy breathing eventually evening out. 
“What?”
“The way you take care of others,” he continued on like he hadn’t heard you, “That spark you get in your eyes when you tell someone about something good. A favorite book, movie, story from your day – whatever it is. The way you give the best hugs – and you don’t give me them nearly often enough. The way you snore, and the way you definitely deny snoring.” 
You opened your mouth, about to lift your head and argue with him, but he just placed an encouraging palm on the back of your head to keep you close to him. 
“The way your favorite color changes with the seasons. The way you only like artificial cherry flavoring, not the real stuff. The way you look at night when we’re driving and you’re just screaming your favorite lyrics. The way you look at me to see if a joke lands. The way you fuss about my wrinkled clothes, even when you also don’t care about the wrinkles in your own shirts. The way you take your coffee. The way you always offer to paint one of my nails to match yours. The way you treat your recipe for chocolate chip cookies like some top secret, government trade. But we both know it’s just some recipe from a cookbook you thrifted when you were ten. The way you get excited over the small things, like the cows we pass by on the way out here. They're always there, and you always point them out. The way you just… are.” 
He didn’t have to say it. He was answering your question. 
He was listing his whys. 
“You don’t have to earn it,” he didn’t say the word, not this time. You felt it, “It just… it’s there. It’s there and it’s not going anywhere. I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.” 
Loved. For the first time ever, it felt like a possibility; to be loved. 
Eddie always knocks on your front door a certain way – a pattern he rarely strays from. But you can always tell. He’s the only fool who would find humor in knocking out such an annoying compilation of hits on the wooden panels until you finally unlatch the lock and open it to find him standing in your threshold. 
His hair is frizzy and in a low ponytail, wearing a baggy band shirt and plaid pajama pants. He greets you with such a wide smile, your chest aches. 
“Hey there, sweetness.” 
You don’t say a word, just drag him inside before you wrap your arms around his waist. Ever since that night, and his admittance of enjoying your hugs, you made a conscious effort to hug him more often. 
“Miss me?” he chuckles, and you feel the vibrations against your cheek as you softly pinch his side. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him only laugh harder once you pull away. 
“Not at all,” you snark back as you make sure the door is securely shut and properly locked.
“Not even a little bit?”
“Nope.” 
He smacks a fist to his chest as if you had stabbed him with your words, “Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.” 
“Get over it,” you tease. Your head has finally stopped swimming, your chest no longer tight with the fear of not being enough. Nancy is long forgotten as you say, “Have you eaten dinner?” 
“Depends,” he hums as he toes off his boots, “If you’re offering to buy me some, then no, I definitely did not eat spaghetti with Wayne right before you called.” 
You throw your head back laughing as he’s already making a beeline for your kitchen, digging out that damned takeout menu and reaching for the phone, already so sure of your order.
Knowing your order at restaurants. Without having to ask. Apparently, that was part of the whole ‘being loved’ gig. 
Adjusting has taken months. Since that night in Eddie’s van, he’d kept his word. Not a day went by without him finding a way to remind you, whether it be by direct words or small actions, that he loved you. You both kept it under that friendly guise. He loved you in that familiar way, the way the others supposedly loved you. A way you could manage to recognize some days. 
Other days were still rough. Days like today were still rough. 
The takeout is ordered and Eddie sets up camp on your couch, rambling about something that had happened during one of the DnD nights he still hosted with the kids. Something about a dumb decision Mike did that cost most of the group their character’s lives. You have a hard time following along, and he’s quick to pick up on it. 
“Hey, sweetheart?” he murmurs as you lean into the back couch cushion, smooshing your cheek as you watched him animatedly speak.
“Hm?”
“Bad day?” 
He never judged you for the rough days. He never judged you for the days you still couldn’t find the love, even after he worked so virtuously to show it to you. He may never understand it, that hollow ache that resided in your darkest corners and whispered that none of it was real, but it never deterred him.
He loved you on good days, and he especially loved you on bad days. 
You consider lying to him, but you can’t. Not when he looks at you so earnestly, “Yeah. It… yeah.” 
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks you, shuffling to be more comfortable where he sits as he motions for you to lay down. You do so immediately, head finding a home against his thigh and his fingers stroking over your cheek before they toy with the ends of your hair. 
All you can do is shake your head. You didn’t want to talk about that fear of failing Nancy as a friend, especially when you know that wasn’t her take away from it. It felt silly now; all that overthinking, when you know now if you questioned her on it, all she would have seen from the day was a friend lending a caring ear. You know because you had asked her about it once, if she found your listening habits too callous, upon Eddie’s insistence. 
She hadn’t. In fact, all she could do was thank you, had insisted that she was just grateful someone would listen to her ramblings. And you understood that, left it at that. 
“Okay,” he murmurs, voice so quiet you nearly miss it. His fingers continue to play across your shoulders now, barely weighted against bare skin, “That’s fine.” 
He didn’t mind if you didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t mind if you never spoke another word, if all you needed was him here. You just needed him close by and to sit with you, to make it all a little less much. 
Nothing. He needed absolutely nothing from you, asked nothing of you. Because you didn’t have to earn this. All you had to do was simply be, and he would provide this. 
Love. What an odd concept, to have found warmth in a grave you never even got the chance to dig your shovel into. 
“Hey, Eddie?” his fingers pause at your croaking voice. You smile at his stillness, at the way he hums carefully in response, still trying to offer the silence you quietly begged for, “I love you.” 
There’s more to unpack there. More than just familial love, more than just two friends that love each other without conditions. But tonight is not the night, and you both see that it is enough. There will be other nights to dig your claws in and to dissect what those three little words mean between you two. There will be other nights to consider how your other friends don’t have a permanent spare toothbrush on your bathroom counter or a space for their takeout in your fridge. But not tonight.
For tonight, this was enough. The quiet, and the warmth, the being was enough. 
“I love you,” he emphasizes the last word, leaning down and his lips grazing your temple. 
You notice the way he leaves off the too. He’d love you, even if you didn’t love him. You’d love him, even if he didn’t love you. Unconditional, no strings attached. A warmth you do not have to fight to earn. A rarity you never encountered before, and may never encounter again, but you have for tonight and for as long as he chooses to stick around. 
Your shovel sits abandoned in a shed in the distance. Your fingernails are clean of the dirt. The graveyard, it seems, would go another night without its robber. 
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starlightwritcr · 5 months
Text
I can fix him, literally. (Android au!Sukuna)
(@poe-daydreams this is for you <3)
warning/s: Minors DNI, Smut, exhibitionism but not really? idk how to describe it, light degradation, use of "whore", Sukuna's two dicks
Imagine android!Sukuna used to be a popular fighter in an underground fighting ring. Key word: used to be. He went up against Jujutsu Technology's newest Gojo model, S4T0RU (or Satoru, as most fans call him), but suffered a humiliating defeat at his hands. This caused heavy damages on Sukuna which led to his owner throwing him out to the trash. After all, why keep the old model around when the latest model was far superior?
But you didn't believe in such. You were surprised to find a Sukuna model in the trash at the back of a dingy building. Who in their right mind would throw away a million dollar android in this economy?! You took the android in, seeing as how the previous clearly didn't want him.
It was a challenge to repair the Sukuna model but as someone who used to work for Jujutsu Technology, you were able to do it. His mind chip seemed to be working fine. It was just the external parts that suffered heavy damage, which should be easy enough to replace. All it took was ordering spare parts online and giving it a new coat of paint to match his original model's tattoos to make him look good as new!
When android!Sukuna's systems started operating again, he woke up from sleep mode and saw you. You explained that you fixed him up after finding him in the trash. There were still some tests to run, just to see if there would be any possible bug fixes needed.
In true Sukuna fashion, he wasn't very cooperative at first. This wasn't your first rodeo though and managed to convince him to do it so that it could be over with. It didn't come as a surprise to you that a fighter android would be aggressive. Plus, the Sukuna line was designed with that personality to elicit reactions from audiences when he trash talked his opponents. It was pretty much just how he was designed.
While running the tests on Sukuna, you decided to check his memory file to see what happened before he was thrown out. You saw how badly he got beaten by the S4T0RU model.
Perhaps it was a strange thing to do, but you empathised with the android. Getting abandoned and replaced would be painful for any regular human after all. Even if Sukuna was an android, it wasn't uncommon for androids to develop a capacity for human emotions. This tended to be the case for fast-learning androids.
So, you kept him around. Sukuna wasn't too pleased about it but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. He was rough and brash at first, blowing a hole into your finances with how much fuel he needed to consume. He calls you soft for treating him like he's human.
But despite the difficulties, despite the insults, you couldn't bring yourself to abandon him. You'd be no better than the person that replaced him so easily. You taught him how to navigate human life, dealing with human emotions, all the essentials needed. Soon enough, you noticed a change in his behaviors. Sukuna hovered around you, never leaving your side. It was almost like he was attached to your hip.
In a way, Sukuna did what he was created to do. He became a bodyguard of sorts, protecting you from creepy dudes whenever you went out. His trash talking feature especially came in handy during gossip sessions where you just had to vent about a rude coworker.
android!Sukuna found a new purpose in you. It was odd going from being a fighter android basking in cheers from the audience to being a companion android protecting his owner like a guard dog. But perhaps this life was more meaningful than his previous one. He'll never admit that though. It's only through his actions that you understand how he felt.
Feeling your touch on his synthetic skin felt even more exhilarating than all the cheers from the audience he's received in his fighting career. Sukuna cursed at himself, realising that he's become whipped for you. He was lucky that it was you, the person who's never abandoned him.
Sometimes android!Sukuna can be pretty possessive. You worked with repairing other androids so deep down, there was a fear that you'd find another android you liked more and replaced him with it. Even if he knew you wouldn't, there was a lingering fear that was deeply rooted ever since he was abandoned.
The height of Sukuna's possessiveness came to its peak when you brought home a sex android from the S4T0RU line. Its previous owners had a really good time with it and accidentally damaged it. You were baffled by this, seeing as how Jujutsu Technology usually equipped its Gojo models with tough materials. They must've went really wild with it.
While repairing it, Sukuna pulled you close. He glared at the S4T0RU model that was in sleep mode. You gasped as his fingers slipped into your clothes, going up your thighs.
Your cries of pleasure echoed against the walls as Sukuna fucked you in front of the android. His hands held you tightly, keeping you in place while he drove his synthetic cocks into you.
"When did you get two dicks?!" "Shut up and take them, whore."
You felt your brain turning to mush while he rearranged your insides with his thick cocks. Sukuna smirked in satisfaction when he knew your attention was completely on him and not that android on your work desk.
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unoislazy · 5 months
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Healing Takes Time
(Part 2)
I wasn’t originally going to make a part 2 considering I just wanted everyone to wallow in their sadness. Buuuuttt there were enough people asking for it so I figured I’d be nice just this once and make a Part 2. Can’t guarantee it’ll be good though.
Disclaimer; NSFW is hinted at but never explicitly stated (may come in a later part if I actually want to continue this more)
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A day had passed.
A week.
A month.
A year.
Then a few years.
So much time had gone by and you still stared at your door in anticipation sometimes, hoping Mizu would come walking back in. Even if she had returned to you beaten and bloody asking for you to fix her up, you would in a heartbeat. You missed her more than words could ever even think to describe.
You missed her company, you missed her help, you missed… her.
You had only known each other for a few months but the kiss you had shared lingered with you for as long as you waited. A few times you had almost convinced yourself to stop hoping; she had something she needed to do, what reason was there for her to come back to you? Sometimes you worried that she might have died in pursuit of her quest, maybe you should’ve gone with her, at least you could offer her some sort of help.
Not like it mattered now.
You had no way of telling where she was, if she was okay, or if she even wanted to come back.
You hoped she at least thought of you as much as you did of her.
During the time that had passed, you decided to set up a medicinal shop. At least you would have something to fully focus on with your time instead of spending most of it worrying about a woman who you believed had no intention of coming back to you.
Business was slow at first.
Really slow.
You had to put yourself out there, let people know that you were there and what your purpose was.
Thankfully, as time went on, and the more drunkards that managed to stumble their way in after being harshly thrown out, word of your practice spread throughout the town. Any time anyone felt sick, in pain, dizzy, drowsy, anything at all, they came to you. It almost got to the point people treated you as if you had some magic healing power, which of course you didn’t, just a lengthy amount of herbal and medicinal knowledge.
You were happy and before long you had somewhat forgotten about the strange samurai that had graced your presence all those years ago.
Of course you never fully forgot, but she was no longer in the forefront of your mind. If anything she had drifted into a distant memory of what could have been had the stars aligned for you that day.
You often thought about how you’d feel if she had entered your life once again and you never had a clear answer. You’d feel happy that she had returned, angry that she left in the first place, and afraid that she would leave again. Would she look the same as she did when she left? Would she even recognize you? Would she have come back looking for you or would she have simply stumbled across you.
You had a million questions and most of which you had to come to terms with the fact that they might never be answered.
You yawned, turning over on your bed as you stretched, trying to wake yourself up the best you could to start a new day. Now that you had a business to tend to, days off were not a very common thing, but you didn’t entirely mind. More time to yourself meant more time thinking about things that truly didn’t matter.
You finally rolled out of your bed, throwing your sheet off of you and standing up. Just because you liked the distraction doesn’t mean you had to enjoy every aspect of going to work.
You spent time getting yourself ready, at least making some effort to look nice, before you had finally walked out of your house.
You walked down the ever muddy road, passing by others who were starting their day, some who lived there, some who didn’t. As you walked down the road, you spotted a familiar hat walking about amongst the crowd. You didn’t think much of it, many people wore the same type of hat, you’d be a fool to get your hopes up over something so small.
And yet you couldn’t help but wonder.
You abandoned your usual path to your shop, making your way in the general direction of the hat owner, but not making it obvious that you were heading towards them. After all, if it hadn’t actually been Mizu you wanted to at least have the ability to deny ever heading towards them in the first place. You made your way over, dodging and weaving between the people who walked through the busy street and just as you had made it over you saw,
A man.
A man who looked nothing like Mizu.
You knew it, you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up, but why listen to your consciousness. You sighed, walking away from the man and heading back on your original path. You knew it wouldn’t be her and yet there was still a part of you that believed she would come back. You felt like an idiot, more than that, you felt like an absolute moron.
Why were you so hung up on this woman that you spent a few months with several years ago. You should be over her by now, you knew she’d have to leave eventually and she did, what was your issue?
Your issue was you loved her. Oh how you hated admitting that, but you loved her more than you had loved anyone in a long time. You both knew she wouldn’t stay, you both got attached, but it felt like you had gotten more attached than she had, and you hated it. If she truly loved you the same amount, why couldn’t she just stay with you? Why did she have to leave?
You wanted to move on, you had to move on, but you couldn’t. No one else had caught your eye since, and you were certain no one else would make you feel the same way she had when you had spent time together.
You too never went far, only sharing that one simple kiss and yet it was all you needed to confirm that you truly loved her.
You sighed again, finally reaching your shop.
It wasn’t common for doctors or anyone with medicinal practice to not just go to peoples houses, but you liked doing things differently. Besides, most of the people you treated were cast out and likely didn’t live around here anyways.
You set up your usual things, tending to some of the plants and herbs you kept around, making sure everything was in its place before you waited.
Oftentimes you wouldn’t get many sellers in the morning, most people were still waking up and going to their own jobs by this point in the day, but you thought it necessary to at least be ready for anything one might deal with during the day.
You sat waiting for a few hours before you finally had someone walk in. A very tall and lanky man that wore a blue outfit. If it hadn’t been for his face, you might’ve thought he was Mizu. He simply asked for some help with soreness which you treated and sent him on his way. After him, the rest of your clients began to pour in, all asking for different treatments and medicines, most of which were just really simple solutions.
You definitely enjoyed your job, helping people was something you always loved to see.
Your day continued on, people going in and out all day until you had gotten a different client.
“Just one second!” You called from the other room, having heard the door slide open. You had been moving some of your things around, giving yourself more room and organizing a bunch. You don’t know why you did it considering you always ended up rearranging things, but it never hurt to at least try and have a system. You wiped your hands clean of the dirt that was never there as you entered the man room again.
“Okay, what can I help you w-”
You froze.
Standing before you was what at first you thought to be a man, but upon closer inspection you realized that standing before you was no man, it was…
“Mizu?” You asked, you felt almost as if you had just been imagining it. There was no way that she was standing there right in front of you, not after the several people you had confused to be her throughout the day, this had to have just been one of those times… Just to an extreme and unhealthy amount.
The woman before you held an expression you couldn’t read entirely. She looked as if she was happy to see you but there was something else hidden in her expression that you couldn’t quite grasp. You cautiously walked towards her as if you made any sudden movements she would just fade away.
You were now standing in front of her, a bit of a distance between you two, but you were still close enough to see the details on her face. You very carefully reached up, your hand grazing against her skin as you took her glasses off, her blue eyes never looking away as she let you do so. Your other hand had now come up, cupping her face as you dropped her glasses on the ground. All the emotions you thought you’d feel were there, but they were much stronger than you originally anticipated. At that moment though, all you felt was relief. She was alive, she came back, and now she was standing in front of you.
You didn’t know how to express your feelings in any other way than moving forward and kissing her much like you had done the day you left. You both leaned into the kiss, all the yearning and desperation you had held back for so many years came back full force as you held her gently between your hands. She too had moved you closer, not wanting to let you go after so many years of being apart.
That was until you pulled away for a moment, the one question still running through your mind,
“Why did you leave?” You asked, your eyes filled with the pain of several years alone as you stared at her. She averted your gaze at first, clearly not wanting to answer as she went silent.
“We both knew I'd have to.” She finally answered, still not wanting to look at you.
“I knew you wanted to but you didn’t have to.” You argued, you knew she was going to leave regardless and there was no changing her mind when she did. But that foolish part of you still had held out hope that she would just change her mind and stay with you, and that foolish part of you is the reason you were hurt so badly now. If you hadn’t held onto that hope for so long, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.
“I did. I had to finish what I started.” Mizu claimed, and she stood by that claim. It was the truth after all.
“And how long did that take to finish?” You asked. If she had come back right after she had finished her task, you wouldn’t have been so angry, but instead it only fueled your anger as you realized she had gone quiet.
“What, so you just stayed away? Why?”
She stayed silent.
“Mizu. Why?” You persisted. You tried to keep your anger up but your demand for answers slowly began to turn to pleading. You were upset, you wanted to be angry, but in reality you were just hurt. You held out hope for so long that she would return and yet she never did, you thought she died, you thought maybe she had been left badly wounded, but no. She had finished her mission and just refused to come back to you.
“Why?” You asked once more, her silence was the last thing you wanted right now, you wanted her to say something, anything.
“I was afraid.” She finally admitted. Her eyes were shut, she didn’t even want to see the look on your face as you processed what she had said.
“Afraid of what? What could you possibly be afraid of?” You scoffed. In your mind she was a samurai, someone who had faced death and laughed in its face several times. In your mind, she had absolutely nothing to fear.
“That when I returned you wouldn’t see anything but a monster.” She began. You couldn’t see it but her eyes had ever so slightly begun to tear up, she covered it smoothly, not wanting you to notice as she continued, “I was afraid that you would realize that I am nothing more than just a demon with a sword.”
You simply stared at her for a moment.
“Have you learned absolutely nothing about me?”
Her eyes finally shifted towards you, confusion riddling every inch of her face.
“I don’t care about any of that, Mizu.” You began. Now finally having your answer to why she had stayed away, you no longer felt so angry, if anything you were more upset with the fact that she assumed you would react in such a way. “I don’t care what color your eyes are or how good you are with a sword and I certainly don’t care that you’re a woman.” You lightly joked, earning a small exhale in acknowledgement from Mizu. You made your way back over to her, now standing in front of her just as you had done before.
You had spent so much time worrying over her only for her to be avoiding you because of a silly assumption she had made on her own.
“I'm sorry.” She quietly said, her eyes not meeting your own as she continued, “It’s a habit. I just kind of expect it at this point.” She admitted with a shrug. You frowned, hearing such a hearvy admission as if it was nothing that upset you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to change her way of thinking but you could at least try and convince her about how you felt.
“Well what’s important is that you’re back.” You said with a smile. “You plan on staying right?” You asked, your smile dropping for a moment as you awaited her answer. You didn’t want her to leave again, you didn't want to finally be able to feel her again just for her to disappear as if she never existed in the first place. Any amount of distraction in the world wouldn’t be enough to keep you from the despair and anger you’d feel if she had left a second time.
“Of course I am.” She confirmed, a slight smile gracing her face as you happily hugged her. It would be a bit of a weird adjustment for the both of you given your new schedule but those were issues for future you to worry about. Right now all that matters was you and Mizu, and a very much still open medicinal shop that still had clients waiting for help. Once you finally realized this, you had given a place for Mizu to wait as you had continued to help clients, sometimes she even gave her own input on things, having needed certain items for certain issues herself. Although her expertise mainly centered around open wounds and gashes which, surprise surprise, was not all that common when you weren’t going out of your way to fight people every chance you got. You appreciated the help nonetheless.
The sun had already set as you finished up for the day. Mizu had helped you put some things away and get everything ready for the next day. You were beyond delighted to see her again, even just watching her put things away was enough to send you soaring. She might’ve been on the leaner side but Mizu was still uncommonly strong, and you couldn’t help but admire her any chance you got, of course when she wasn’t looking. You certainly weren’t giving her the heavier items to lift for that exact reason, who would ever think to do such a thing?
Once you both had finished up, you slid the door behind you both and began to walk back towards the direction of your house.
“I missed you.” You admitted quite out of the blue. It was clear you both missed each other but neither of you had outwardly said those three words yet, so you figured you’d be the first. Little did you know just the effect they had on Mizu, no one had ever said something like that directed towards her, she felt so… loved.
“I missed you too.”
One wouldn’t expect a relationship that has such little time to blossom to actually thrive but you two worked very well together.
Once you had finally made it inside, you both got yourselves situated and comfortable. Mizu took a small look around, getting used to her surroundings just like she once had. You could see a faint smile on her face as she walked about, looking at the decorations around your home, most of which had not been changed but two or three had been replaced. She then stopped and began to stare at the painting that she had sat and stared at so many times before.
“Hey Mizu?” You called for her, gaining her attention as she looked towards you. You had only changed to a more comfortable outfit, if anything it had resembled what you had worn the day you met Mizu, but something about her shifted.
“Do you mind helping me with this?” You asked, referring to something that you couldn’t tie from behind your back. She obliged, not many emotions could be seen on her face, but she definitely looked deep in thought.
You had made your way over to her, turned around and waited for her to finish tying whatever you had needed help with. However, you couldn’t feel her tying anything, in fact you couldn’t feel her moving at all. That’s because she wasn’t, she had waited for just a moment before she leaned over your shoulder, whispering quietly in your ear,
“How about we make this easier and just make up for lost time?” She teased. It was a small gesture but it was enough to send what felt like a whirlwind through your stomach. You turned back to look at her expecting her to be joking considering you had never heard her speak in such a way but when you had turned back you were met with eyes that were filled with a certain kind of hunger.
She wasn’t joking.
And you’d be damned if you were going to miss this opportunity.
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cultofdixon · 4 months
Text
Oddly Fascinating
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Can you imagine a human fucking pretzel? Well you certainly like to freak the others out unexpectedly • SFW/NSFW - Implied Sex
Requested by: Anon
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It’s…fascinating. The things Y/N can do with JUST her body. Keep that noggin out of the gutter for a minute.
Y/N joined the group a little after the Woodbury infusion to the prison. She didn’t have a group and sort of ended up in Virginia because she simply didn’t stop walking from where she originated.
One day Daryl, Michonne, and Glenn were out on a run in the closest outdoor mall, which is a few hours away from the prison—so they were going to have to camp. Daryl went to check the store that looked like a miniature Home Depot thinking he could find some camping supplies but when he entered the store…said camping supplies were in use but no person.
“If anybody is here, I ain’t gonna hurt yea,” Daryl stated knowing that wouldn’t go far but to his surprise one of the storage boxes’s lids flung open. Soon a woman’s upper half popped out like a jack in the box and it was a bit unsettling to the archer.
“I had to see who I’m working with and what makes yea think I’ll trust “I ain’t gonna hurt yea” with muscles like those”
“You think I’d hit a woman?”
“It’s the apocalypse. If laws don’t exist, neither does moral code. I follow them still…but still”
“I don’t hit women.” Daryl scoffs. “How do yea fit in there?”
“I don’t know you well enough to share my skills. But I do feel a little better knowing you’re not gonna throw a left hook at my face” the woman began to fully pull herself out of the container and when she stepped out, she locked eyes with the archer’s confused yet curious ones. “Okay I trust you about not killing me but why haven’t you left?”
“Gonna ask yea a few things if that’s okay with you”
“Sure I guess” She put the lid back on the box before taking a seat and crossing her arms.
“How many walkers have you killed?”
“Lost count a long time ago”
“How many people have you killed?”
“Four”
“Why?”
The woman went silent for a moment and avoided eye contact as she held herself. “They were my friends, and brother who were about to turn. They didn’t want to be taken out as a walker and didn’t want to become one so. You know…”
“I do” Daryl leaned against one of the shelves. “It’s hard to take someone you care about out after they’ve changed”
“Getting deep with me and we don’t even know each other’s name”
“Daryl”
“Y/N”
Then she joined their group right then and there. The others that came with Daryl liked her, didn’t trust her right away but given her attitude immediately when it came to them asking the same questions Daryl asked—-both Glenn and Michonne knew that they will grow to trust her. Same with the others. Returning back to the prison with a lot more than they had expected helped the initial image of the new comer. Y/N hoarded a lot of stuff so thinking that she would survive alone in there.
Some part of Daryl wanted Y/N to take the empty cell in their cellblock but given he didn’t speak up and Rick showed her one of the others, that wasn’t happening.
But she was very involved with helping around the prison.
“You good up there Y/N?” Rick calls out to her receiving a thumbs up while she continued to work with fixing part of the fence that disconnected from the gate.
The retired sheriff watches his brother pull in on his bike but stop to watch Y/N a moment. She dropped her wire cutters and as it hit the grass, Daryl hopped off his bike about to grab it when he quickly took a step back when Y/N jumped down somersaulting in the dirt.
“The hell is wrong with you?!” Daryl shouted as Y/N stood up immediately, stretching her back after her action. “Yea could’ve cracked your head open!”
“I’ve done it a million times before. Don’t worry your pretty little head”
“A million times? What, in the circus?”
“How did you know?” Y/N smiles catching him off guard at first and even more when she broke out in laughter. “I wasn’t in the circus dumbass. I’ve done a lot of risky stuff and…gymnastics. But what just happened is nothing compared to other stuff” she states while throwing herself back so she was then in a bridged position and Daryl watched her upper half lay flat on its stomach showing her crawl between her legs and hold her ankles. Exorcist shit.
“Now I think you’re an alien”
“Rude” Y/N scoffs as such action was a bit uncomfortable given her twisted position. “It definitely impressed and freaked out a few hook ups”
Now that led Rick to leave from overhearing their conversation, both knowing damn well he was there. He opened the gate once Y/N was back in the upright position and Daryl was still left appalled somewhat.
Y/N was definitely making a good impression on most. Has been on every run that was planned and no one opposed, she’s especially useful in tight situations.
“Alright, so I was thinking we break down the door and then—-“ Tyreese cut himself off when Y/N gestured for Maggie’s help to hoist her up and she happily obliged.
Next thing the group knew, Y/N was pushing herself through the small window above the locked door landing on the other side and unlocking it.
“Or that” Sasha chimes in with a laugh and smile, impressed by the woman. “Now we don’t have to almost break ourselves to get into places” she walked past her as Y/N brushes off some of the dirt checking her person carefully. Said actions didn’t go unnoticed by Daryl.
After a couple hours passed, the four returned to the prison and dispersed but as Daryl stuck by his bike a moment he noticed Y/N straggling a bit. She stood for a while glancing around and turned to Daryl with a questioning look before turning away.
“If yea need something, you can ask” He didn’t hesitate as Y/N slumped in defeat before turning around and approaching him.
“Crack my back”
“What?” Daryl scoffs confused as he wiped the grime off his hands with his rag. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Imma turn around cross my arms and you’re going to wrap your arms around me then lean back until a crack is heard.” Y/N explained in the most layman terms she could think of and it clicked instantly to Daryl but he hesitated a moment.
“Is that what yea want?”
“Yes, well. What I really want is someone to step on my back but all of y’all aren’t trained to do that and back in the day I had a friend who was a masseuse.”
“Well, I’ll do my best” Daryl grunts bringing himself over after tossing his rag on his bike watching her turn around and do what she had to do before he wrapped his arms around her. “Just lean back holding yea?”
“Yup” Y/N felt a sudden warmth rise in her chest when she was being lifted and the heat came clear in her cheeks expressing more of a red hue.
She heard the crack a bit ago but they both just. Stood there and it went from Daryl holding her to them both holding each other. Still Y/N’s back against his chest but her arms held onto his. Daryl relaxed setting her down but the way he held her for much longer and Y/N didn’t show any sign of letting go.
There was something
When the illness washed through the prison and a few were sent to get the medicine, Y/N found herself in the doorway watching Bob shove alcohol into his bag. He turned toward her realizing she was there and instead of talking first, he quickly took a bottle and threw it in her direction watching her quickly fall back then swing her body back forward.
“Jesus fucking Christ what are you? One of those inflatable car sales string cheese looking things?!”
“That’s very descriptive. Are you gonna be the same way when telling me why you have a goddamn bag of alcohol and not medicine to save our people”
“Oh for fucks sake! You and I are the newest people at the prison and you’re willing to bend over backwards—-even literally—-for people you barely know”
“So?!”
“SO?!” Bob shouted which caught another’s attention, Michonne as the conversation ended the second she joined. Bob brushed past her as she quickly gave a concerned look to Y/N.
I’m fine. Was all Y/N gave her as she stepped out.
Of course the booze was found out by Daryl and that was a more explosive mess to address than when Y/N first confronted him. But it all stopped mattering when they finally got their medicine into their people.
After getting their medicine in, Daryl went in search for Y/N who disappeared after they did such. It didn’t take long to find her because she was in her cell but she was alone in the old Woodbury cell block. Because of the outbreak.
“You alright?” Daryl asks Y/N even if she was currently hiding under her deconstructed bunk.
“Yeah”
“Don’t look like it”
A few seconds of silence. “Yeah…” she sounded defeated and pulls her entire self out from under bringing herself to sit on her bed. Daryl bringing himself to sit with her leaning his back against the wall.
“You can trust me, with whatever is on your mind”
“It’s strange…how easily it was for Bob to just. Not care about the others in the heat of the moment”
“Some people are just like that. Somethin’ or someone has to change them”
“I used to be like that. Not a warm caring person when this thing first started. I just. Had moments that changed me”
“Yeah?” Daryl gave her a questioning look that she noticed in the corner of her eye. “What changed yea?”
“Having to end the lives of people I cared for, the ones who got bit. When…” Y/N hesitated a second before looking at Daryl. “When I met you”
She’s full of surprises isn’t she? Daryl could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he never felt that feeling before.
But this moment was short lived like the many that followed after.
Until they found themselves alone weeks later…in a new place, with strange new people. Y/N stuck by Daryl’s side since they first entered Alexandria and given how the archer was feeling from all the loss, he would find himself following her if she were to stray or disappear from his side for too long.
“Can you hand me the socket wrench?” Daryl asks while under the car Aaron drives for recruiting as he was asked to check something out for the man. Y/N being there to help in any way even if it is just handing tools to the archer.
Y/N was currently repairing one of the angel wings on Daryl’s vest which led her to using her leg to reach toward the bench then her foot hooked onto the handle of the tool box. She then carefully bent so that she could grasp the box with her hands and go through the kit for what he asked for.
“Damn”
The annoyingly familiar voice caught both of their attentions as Daryl pushes out on the skateboard sitting up to look at Spencer confused. Y/N equally confused on the matter while handing the tool over.
“You know I saw you the other day doing your…morning stretches or whatever. Didn’t think you’d be THAT flexible…and limber…” Spencer was starting, or continuing to make Y/N uncomfortable as he starts to check her out making her cover herself with Daryl’s vest in her lap.
Daryl quickly taking note of the reaction and glaring at the man. “Beat it”
“I wasn’t talking to you” Spencer brushed him off keeping his attention on Y/N. “I bet you’re even more flexible in more intimate situations”
Y/N scoffs instantly but before she could bite the guy’s head off. She felt herself being pulled toward Daryl’s direction. Daryl having grabbed the blanket she was seated on pulling it closer to him so he could protectively wrap his arm around her shoulders as she instinctively leaned into him.
“She’s taken. Now I’d fuck off and bother somebody else before your mommy sees her little boy’s face smashed the fuck in” Daryl threats and didn’t let his guard down but it got Spencer to storm off defeated. “What a tool”
“He’s not wrong about something”
“Huh?”
“I am very flexible when we’re intimate” Y/N laughs slightly catching her own boyfriend off guard resulting in the red hue rising in his cheeks.
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sturnsbaebackup · 5 months
Note
can you write something about how the fans have started speculating something between you and chris??
RUMORS FLY - CHRIS STURNIOLO
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summary: you and chris have been talking, and the fans are starting to notice.
warnings: none!
-
as nick and matt argue about god knows what into their microphones, chris stares down at his phone with a small smile. “chris what’s your opinion on this?” nick asks, but it appears chris hasn’t heard him.
“chris, get off of your fucking phone. we’re on the podcast! who are you even texting that’s so important right now?” matt groans. quickly after being called out chris puts his phone away. he’s very clearly flustered, and he says, “i was just um— texting nate!”
“texting nate? with that big of a smile on your face? i didn’t know nate was so funny… but whatever can you please just get off of your phone and help us settle this debate,” matt says, glaring at chris with a wondering eye. not even his brothers knew about you and chris, but they were bound to find out soon enough.
chris feels his phone buzz on his lap, and he waits until he has a chance to answer it. he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s recording because he doesn’t want to stop talking to you, so he tried to multitask, but clearly he’s not very good at it.
nick suddenly gets up and walks over to chris, snatching his phone from his hands. as he does so, he see’s your contact name and the photo of you and chris cuddling at the top of the screen. “oh my god that’s—“ he blurts out, but immediately stops himself. “—enough! i’m taking your phone until the end of the episode” nick says, immediately catching himself before he reveals you and chris’ secret.
chris’ cheeks turn bright pink, and his heart rate is through the roof. he knows he’ll be grilled with questions once they’re done recording, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that yet. eventually the pod is over, and immediately nick hands chris his phone with a smirk.
“have fun texting y/n!” nick shouts as chris begins walking downstairs to his room. a loud gasp can be heard from matt, and chris can feel his cheeks burning up. he scurries into his room and replies to your texts, and immediately opens tiktok to rewatch the tiktok you guys had made a couple days ago. he scrolls through the endless comments, and begins to notice a reoccurring pattern.
“are they dating?!”
“oh i ship this”
“i think they’re dating! i mean, y/n is wearing his brand…”
and so forth. he bites his cheeks to hold his smile in, but ultimately fails when he sees all of the support even when you guys haven’t gone public. as he scrolls through his phone, a gentle knock can be heard on his door.
“come in nick!” he exclaims, not even looking up from his phone. he knows it’s nick because matt has a tendency to just walk in, or bang on the door. one or the other.
“can i ask you something?” nick asks, sitting in the end of chris’ bed.
“yeah, anything,” chris says, putting his phone down and fixing his posture.
“why didn’t you tell me and matt?”
“um— well we aren’t really telling anyone. i mean we’re not dating yet, but—“ he pause, “actually i don’t really know, honestly. i guess i’m just nervous that if i start telling people things will go south,” he shrugs.
“are you planning to ask her out soon?”
“yeah, i am actually. i was gonna do it this weekend, and make it a big surprise for the fans but now i don’t know. the fans are already speculating things, so i feel like i should just scratch the whole big idea i had and ask her the next time we hang out.”
“oh! that was also one of my questions! how the hell have you been hanging out with y/n and both me and matt didn’t know about it?! we live together and i still didn’t know!”
chris chuckles, “there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me nick. and it’s gonna stay that way, so if you could stop asking me a million questions that would be great,” he sarcastically grins, and nick just rolls his eyes. nick closes the door behind him, and chris immediately goes back to texting you.
the podcast episode was posted a few days ago, and immediately the fans have been questioning who chris was texting. there have been many many guesses, but most have been you. chris feels like it’s his fault, and the last thing he wants is for you to feel like you’re being led on, so there’s only one thing to do.
“y/n, i have a question,” chris says nervously, looking down at you as your head rests on his arm.
“what is it?” you ask, knowing exactly what it is. or hoping, at least.
“well, obviously i like you. a lot. and i was just wondering if you wanted to make this official? will you be my girlfriend?”
“of course i will chris, is that even a question?” you giggle, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of chris’ shoulders. he smiles at you and gently places his hands on your cheeks, pulling your faces towards his. your lips melt together, and your hands find their way to the back of his neck.
you both end up falling asleep in chris’ bed, and while you both nap, you’re unaware that nick and matt both arrive back home. they enter chris’ room after calling his name a few times with no response, only to see you both asleep. of course, them being the immature boys they are, take your guys’ picture. unfortunately, you learn about this the hard way when you see the photo in their photo dump a few days later. you gasp and immediately check the comments, expecting tons of hate comments.
“i knew it was y/n! they’re so cute!”
“AWWW”
“cutest couple ever”
you immediately text chris, and you both share a big grin over the situation. although you never would have expected your situation with chris to have gotten semi-exposed, you were just glad everyone was so supportive.
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ghouljams · 6 months
Note
You’ve made allusions to an android AU, may I venture a hc?
König (my beloved) is the most likely out of all of the guys to just. Literally not have a face. This boy was built exclusively for heavy combat - he’s probably got five cameras for eyes on a composite ceramic face. There is no synthskin. Briareos from APPLESEED vibes.
OK Android au is a Ghost au because that's my husband. I love the idea of König as a heavy duty mech. Let's run through what my thoughts on the au are and then never speak of it again
So Ghost as an android. Military grade, top of the line. I mean literally irreplaceable, no one knows how they made him, where he came from, or how he's able to think and do the things he does. It's almost unbelievable. You, the 141's mechanic, don't believe it. You've fixed up plenty of androids, you'd rerouted circuit boards and rewritten enough code to know that Ghost should not be doing the things he's doing. You think he's thinking. He shouldn't be thinking. Not the way he seems to be, at least.
Androids think, to a certain degree, but artificial intelligence is... well it's not exactly real. It's pattern recognition and computers running simulations. It's math. Complicated math, but still math. Ghost isn't doing math, he's making decisions. The 141 lets him out, free range, in the field and trusts him to think and act within the parameters- Fuck do they even set parameters for him?
He comes to see you the same way the men go to see the doctor. Reluctantly. Another thing he shouldn't be doing, that he's hiding from the rest of the unit, feeling. That's what first tipped you off that he was thinking, the way he lingered in your doorway when other androids would be marched in by their COs. Ghost stood in the door to your workshop and hesitated, like he didn't want to see you, or was hoping you wouldn't be in. When you'd made eye contact with his cameras, the red glow behind sculpted bone, he'd marched right in and sat down in front of your work bench.
"Need some maintenance," He's said, the transmitters for his voice box warm and rumbling behind the slight static. You'd never heard false vocal cords like that.
He's a wonder of mechanics. His back plate is dented, the synth-skin charred and bullet ridden, and when you take too long poking around trying to figure out how to get it off he reaches back and presses a button at the top of his spine. The black composite plates lining his spine -what a human would call a spine- release with a hiss and the back plates on either side pop up with a quiet click. You could spend hours looking at the motors running his muscles, like cogs in a clock. They spin silently, just on the edge of warm when you touch them, expanding his synthetic muscles almost like he's breathing. A cooling system you assume, or exhaust exchange. You grab a few tools from your bench and tug your safety goggles on to get started.
It's strange, you feel like a proper doctor working on him. Ghost sits like a rock for you, but he's sitting, he's active. You glance at his face like you'll catch him flinching away from the laser you drag against powder burns, or think he'll roll his shoulder to test the fit when you tighten one of the millions of tiny screws. You'll have to come up with something new to use on the tight coils of synthetic muscle he has. You've never seen anything like it, you'll need something custom if he comes in with anything bigger than a bullet wound. He's patient as you reshape his back plate, banging the dent out and soldering a patch over the hole.
"You'll need a new one of these," You tell him. He makes a noise almost like a hum, you chalk it up to motors whirring. Strange when they'd been so quiet before.
"Battle scars," He jokes, and you freeze, "That's what Soap calls them." He covers, but- He made a joke. He's covering, it's a good cover, but- He made a joke. Androids don't make jokes, they approximate jokes.
You're still thinking about it when he leaves. You're a good mechanic, a great one, but you can't explain Ghost away as subroutines and ai. You stare down at your diagnostic report, your repair report. You hesitate and mark "functioning optimally" before jotting down the repairs you made. It's probably nothing. No reason to snitch on the 141's prized android just because you're a little spooked.
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the-froschamethyst4 · 19 days
Text
Their Career Change After the Military
————
COD Men Headcanons
————
König
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Househusband
He was tired all the time after coming back from the Military so he picked up on being a househusband and doing all the chores around the house while his s/o goes to work
It started out as making lunches for you
Then hand delivering them to you before lunch
He also started to fix things around the house he told you not to call someone for because he could look it up and do it himself free of charge
Hates messes now. He started to develop this thing where he hates messes no matter what it was. It wasn’t OCD, but he hates when he cleans something and thing a few seconds later gets dirty again
Cleans…that’s all he does when he’s bored
Hardly sits, he only sits if he needs a break from whatever he’s doing
————
Ghost
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Police officer
He misses how he use to help in the military so picked up an application and filled it out to be an officer
He guards around the royal palace to keep those stupid and annoying tourists in line when touching the royal palaces horses at the gates
His voice starts to slowly become more deeper over the years from telling pedestrians to leave the horses alone
Of course they listened to man holding a gun, not like he was ever going to use it, it was just to make myself look scary
Honestly hates working in the cold or rain but does it for his job
Gets shy when his s/o comes around to have lunch with him. He waits till he is relieved from duty to go eat with his partner
He loves seeing his s/o come around in cute outfits he knows that he will fold to
————
Price
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Office manager
Loves wearing the suits to get a rouse from his s/o
Loves it when his s/o visits him in the office just to drop something off he forgot at home or just to have lunch together
Got the job because he knew some people that could help get this job after he retired from the military
His desk at his work his boring with a small framed picture of his s/o sitting next to his pc
He doesn’t go to the office parties, he’d rather stay home with his s/o and not have to worry about them, he deals with them long enough at work he doesn’t need to be there for after hours
Doesn’t have a “work wife/husband” because he’s married
————
Soap
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Mechanic
Took the job because he liked fixing cars
He was a personal mechanic to a race car driver for some time but quit to open his own shop
Makes a lot
He fixes his s/o car for free
Has his personal project with a Porsche 911 GT3 that he does drag races in
His personal car has nothing special but maybe a loud exhaust pipe
Takes time in his work, if it’s something bad like a busted engine he’s going to take his time not rush the process just to get the car out of his shop. If it takes a month it’s going to take a month
————
Alejandro
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Stock Broker
He didn’t want the job at first knowing it’s probably boring but when his friend bragged about the almost 3 million dollars sitting in his pocket
Took the job and makes close to 5 million
It’s a love hate relationship type of job. Hates it because of the people he works with, loves it because he gets to spend his money on his s/o
His s/o meets him for lunch dates
Doesn’t go to work parties
He does pull the late night hours coming close to 3 in the morning but doesn’t have to go to work till 11
He likes trying on new suits he bought to show them off to his s/o to see their opinion on his suits
Alejandro’s desk is full of random papers from other co-workers and from customers
————
Gaz
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Works from home
He starts working from home. He was able to find a job he could work from home from and can go in once a month
Gaz was able to find a job as a I.T. Guy, when Gaz was younger he messed around with coding and helping people with new technology, so he figured this would be good for him
He’s stuck in front of a computer 6 hours a day, but then the rest of his time is with his partner
He loves the view he has from his home office being able to overlook the city as he worked from home and his s/o bring him lunch and snacks every so often
Gaz loves the idea that he can wear whatever he wants to his job and no one will know
Gaz sometimes loses his mind when he has to deal with an elderly who could barely remember their password, there has been many times Gaz would have to remind them that he doesn’t know their passwords
————
Alex
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Picks up the hobby of gardening
He lowkey didn’t think he’d enjoy gardening
He thought it was boring till he grew his first strawberry bush with success and no rotten fruit
He started to make the garden bigger and then made a greenhouse for flowers and succulents
Started to sell fruit and vegetables at the local farmers market
Doesn’t make a whole lot and that’s fine with him. What he does make he spends on his garden or his s/o
His s/o also jumps in to help him with the garden
Starts asking his ol’ buddies if they were interested in some of the stuff he grew
The next thing now is he wants chickens to sell their eggs
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two-white-butterflies · 10 months
Text
violets for roses | c16
Description: Charles breaks up with you in search for higher ground. Where he realizes that he needs you beside him in order to truly win.
Pairing: charles leclerc/neurosurgeon!reader
Rating: Teen [jealousy, angst]
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When he told you that he needed space - you gave it to him willingly, without any doubts or questions - because you knew deep inside that he'd come crawling back - that you couldn't live without each other. But when he wanted to make that space permanent? It caught you off guard.
"What do you mean?" you could feel your throat threaten to leak green bile. He seemed calm and composed from the other side of the call - a complete opposite of you. "I don't think that we're going to work in the long term, bebe." he dare used a nickname.
A small shudder escaped your lips.
"I don't understand," you shook your head - playing with the bracelet that he gifted you. "I want to focus on the championship." he began to explain his side of the story, but you couldn't help interrupt him. "Are you calling me a distraction?" you bite your lower lip.
You felt stupid.
Stupid because you weren't aware of his feelings. Unaware of the storm that was brewing inside of his mind. "I'm calling myself easily distracted," he defended you - knowing that half of his heart still belonged to the woman inside of you. "I-I think you're too good for me. You deserve someone who can stand beside you - hold your hand through accomplishments. That's not me." he prefaced.
While you were saving lives - he was toying with his own.
"Look at the future, bebe. Can you see a person who's barely there? I know you - I know that you want to be perfect. You dream about those white fences, a four bedroom house, kids that go to school - I can't give you that." he persuaded you, knowing deep inside his heart that he could give you that.
He could give you the family that you wanted - but he wanted to fix his life first. He wanted to make a name for himself.
"Well, there's no use in trying to force you to do something." you hum, wiping the tears away from your eyes.
"Goodbye, Leclerc." you hang up.
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Charles_Leclerc: A single picture, yet it gives me a million emotions. I enjoyed being with you. I enjoyed drinking martinis by the beach and rolling down the sand dunes in Dubai. I enjoyed dancing in Ibiza, and singing down the streets of Los Angeles. I had fun, and I loved you - but good things must come to an end. Thank you, doctora. ❤️
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dr_yn_official: I'll be getting over you, my whole life. Merci du fond du coeur. @Charles_Leclerc
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CHARLES LECLERC AND GIRLFRIEND'S BREAKUP TO MATTY HEALY AND TAYLOR SWIFT SPLIT. (by deuxmoi)
Deuxmoi: Now I got this from one of his girlfriend's close friend, that Charles wanted to focus on the championship while she wanted to focus more on their relationship. A few months before their public breakup, they had a little break (now they didn't specify how long the 'break' lasted but they broke up officially before they got back together).
Unknown: That's shitty, because isn't Charles 25? He's old enough to know that a person should focus on what their girlfriend needs.
Deuxmoi: Yeah! And apparently, he was very 'fuck off' manner and he was all about himself. He was always talking about what he wanted and what he needed.
Unknown: Oh my god!
Deuxmoi: Now I'm gonna start this off by saying that I'm not taking any sides, but my source told me that Y/N was bending over backwards to provide what he needed and wanted. At the end (he spoke up about their faults by phone call by the way) - at the end she just went 'alright i don't wanna make our relationship a favor to you' and broke up with him.
Unknown: She broke up with him?
Deuxmoi: Yes, she did.
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"Are you alright?" your co-worker places a hand on your shoulder, seeing that you weren't able to finish the surgery. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stepped into the OR knowing that I'm like this." you sigh, leaning into the cold metal chair. You've seen the tweets about you. You've seen the hashtags on twitter. It wasn't helping.
"It's okay, you're the best surgeon in the hospital - and Dr. Alawi has finished the operation. No harm done - but I will be telling HR." the nurse warns you, and you answer with a nod. Fair is fair. "It's just hard getting over a breakup," you admit - wiping the sweat off your forehead. " -especially when it's with someone I see a future with."
She sits down beside you, offering a bottle of water.
"I don't want to ask anything personal, but if you need someone. I'll be here to help you - I'm sure that you'll see someone better." she comforted. "Lots of fish in the sea." she joked, earning a small laugh.
She glances at you - seeing the sad look on your face.
"Guess what," she smiled and you turned to look at her. "What?" you inquired - watching her open her phone. "You should go on a date, something that'll take your mind off him." she offered, showing you a picture of her cousin. "He's also a neurosurgeon. Dr. Pritchett, you'll love him." she smiled, browsing through his instagram posts.
A sigh escapes your mouth. Anything to get rid of Charles.
"Give me the date, I'll be there." you tell her, and she begins typing on her phone - presumably messaging the man.
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The friendship between you and Dr. Pritchett grew with every event that he invited you to join. Soon enough, you find yourself tolerating his company - often leaning into his touch willingly.
"This institution was founded by my grandfather, Mr. Patel. It's helped so much patients that suffer from brain related diseases. I can't imagine a Monaco without it." your date boasted, touring the entire crowd around the tapestries hung around the hospital.
"The number of sponsors and volunteers grow with every month, now thanks to Formula One collaborating with us - we help a lot more people." he chuckled, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back - you almost forgot that your ex-boyfriend was in the crowd.
"It's beautiful here, I didn't expect it to be a hospital." Toto complimented, taking a slow sip of his champagne. He was one of the hospital's biggest donator. Truly, a nice guy. "We wanted it to feel like home." you add - showing them around the new building.
Your eyes trail towards the man beside him - Charles Leclerc.
"It feels like that," he hummed - a small frown on his face. You were getting on his nerves now - and so was the man beside you. "Most of our patients are children, the adults are in the other wing." Dr. Pritchett added, glancing at you. "We tried to make it as colorful as possible, but it's a hospital - decorum is needed." you hum, fingers dancing along the rim of your glass.
Why couldn't you stop thinking about him?
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officialyour_name: the annual st. luke's gala. thank you so much to @formulaone and @scuderiaferrari for sponsoring tonight's event. also to the f1 grid who are in full attendance!
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Charles had a lot of guts marching towards you.
"Hey," he breathed seeing that sad pout on your face. "Hey," you smiled at him - surprised to see him walking towards you with such bravery. Didn't he walk out of the door a few months ago?
"You're in a new relationship, huh?" he chuckled bitterly, sitting down on the wooden chair beside you. "Well, it's not a relationship - it's more of a friendship." you admit, doctors and formula one drivers have a lot in common - they both didn't have time for relationships.
Dr. Pritchett saw you as eye-candy. Something to pass time around.
"That relaxes me a bit," he hummed - letting the alcohol take full control of the situation. "I regret breaking up with you, to be honest." he scratched his nose, fearing your response. "Charles, don't." you warn him a disapproving stare.
You already learned from the past - you already let go of your wings in order to fly. He didn't have the right to take that away. He didn't have the right to take away your independence.
"I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to get back - together, bebe." he used the same term of endearment, waiting patiently for your reply. "You can't be serious," you scoff - feeling the eyes on you.
"I'll give you time, but you know how to find me." he stood up.
and you'll always find him.
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(ONE YEAR LATER)
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officialyour_name: never thought i'd be sharing a candid shot, but here we are ❤️
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"I can never seem to get rid of you," you chuckle - laying on the sand and watching him attempt to make a sand-castle. It's been six months since you last gave him a chance. Twelve months since that fateful gala. You've never been happier. "Well, you're jealous because my sand castles are beautiful." he boasted, filling it with water.
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"Sure, bebe." you teased.
He's changed a lot. He's more honest with his feelings. He talks to you about his problems - instead of keeping it to himself.
He wasn't a good boyfriend before - but he was a great boyfriend now.
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Charles_Leclerc: We gave it a bit of thinking, and we realized that we look better together. I realized that I'm better with her. Cheers to dancing in Ibiza, singing down L.A, slipping down Dubai, and drinking Martinis by the beach. @officialyour_name
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soldforparts12: YES! I KNEW THAT THIS WOULD HAPPEN
officialyour_name: I LOVE YOU
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officialyour_name: We look better in RED. Missed you, drama king.
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webslingingslasher · 9 months
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hi babeeee!!! idk if this is how requests work bc i never request fics but i was wondering if u could do something super duper angsty, like really angsty, and then hurt comfort with a fluffy end? it can be anything you want, but like that sort of timeline would be so so so good, if u could and if requests r open,, xoxoxox
it may have taken me 12 years but i did it bestie.
Peter Parker wasn’t the type of boyfriend to have rules. 
You were your own person, and should live as one. However, there were some things he was a bit more passionate about. 
Like: texting him when you get home (and he wasn’t around), calling him if you feel unsafe or nervous, keep him informed of your whereabouts so he could try and track you down if he needed to, and always, always, call him back. 
Peter had one rule, let him know you're safe. Always. Even when you’re mad at eachother, even at your most ugly, you’d let him know you’re okay. It was Peter’s one true rule, the other things he liked and he preferred you’d do, but this was his number one thing. 
And you’re not following it. 
The third time you ignored his call he felt frustration brew so deeply he almost slammed his phone to the ground, it would’ve done nothing to fix anything, and would’ve made a bigger problem, but the satisfaction of watching something break apart into a million pieces would’ve made him feel better. Even if just for a moment. 
It’s almost like you knew it’s pissing him off, you’ve never dug this deeply into a wound. You knew it would get under his skin in the right places, it was something that either of you didn’t play with. It was too serious for Peter, and knowing you were most likely safe and just doing this to try and get even with him made him furious. Because he can’t prove it. And because he can’t all he could think about how not okay you might be. 
Peter hates leaving angry voicemails but he can’t stop himself this time. 
‘This is the fourth fucking call you’ve ignored, I think you proved your point. I know you’re mad at me but this is just childish, you made this night go from a small hiccup to a massive fight because you won’t answer your phone. Just call me back, goddamn it.’ 
Peter’s never once gotten loud with you, he’s never once felt enough rage towards you he could ever buck up enough energy to yell at you. But all he wanted to do was scream about how inconsiderate you were. He understands he may have started it, he even tried to apologize but you must’ve had this in your heart for a minute because you couldn’t wait to bulldoze him. 
‘I’m so sorry, baby. I got caught up in the low-’ 
‘Whatever, I don’t care. I’m going home.’ 
‘Hey, no, no, no! We can still hang out! I haven’t ate-’ 
‘I did. I waited over an hour, Peter. I’m going home.’ 
‘I’m sorry, I really am, baby. I know tonight was important to you.’ 
And that’s when the night switched. 
‘No, Peter, this wasn’t important to me. This was important for us, this was about you trying to prove you still care about us.’ 
‘Woah, hold on, don’t you dare stand there and tell me I don’t care about you or us, that’s unfair and you know it.’ 
‘You know what, Peter? I didn’t sign up to date two guys. I was willing to accept the other because it was a package deal, but I’m tired of being picked last. You know I’ll always be waiting around and it’s so fucking tiresome just waiting around.’ 
‘Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were signing up for, you don’t get to act like this is new news.’ 
‘I’m always picked last! I understand who you are, Peter, who you share a life with, trust me, if anyone here knows best about understanding, it’s fucking me, but that doesn’t mean I’m always the last priority. I know sometimes I have to be on the backburner, and guess what, Peter? I fucking understand. But, tonight? What stopped you? Because it’s not like there’s a domestic attack on the city, so tell me, what was so fucking important tonight I was shot to the bottom of the list for it?’ 
‘Okay, I get it. I know you’re mad, but I think we both need to take a breath and talk about this at home.’ 
‘No! I want you to look at me and tell me what was so important NYPD’s finest couldn’t handle it for an evening.’ 
‘Baby, I really don’t-’ 
‘Fucking tell me! I want you to admit right now it was nothing important. Look me in the eye and admit you didn’t care about my feelings.’ 
‘It was a robbery. I have a responsibility to keep the city safe, a city you very much live in, by the way.’ 
‘Ah, the classic, ‘if you really think about it, I’m doing this for you’ line. Real original.’ 
‘Can we please just go home? If you’re going to be pissed at me anyways I’d rather it be in the comfort of our home.’
‘You can go wherever you want, but I’m not going anywhere with you.’ 
‘I’m gonna get a cab, hold on.’ 
‘No, I’m not going anywhere with you and I mean it.’ 
‘You can hate me at home, let’s go.’ 
‘No! I’m leaving, you can sit around waiting on me for once.’ 
‘Why are you doing this now? You’ve never been this persistent before, I moved in with you and you still don’t think it’s enough. What else do you want from me? I’m giving you all I can, fuck.’ 
‘You know what? I hope someone fucking kidnaps me, maybe then I’d be your first choice.’ 
‘Don’t, don’t you even dare go there. You know that’s a low blow.’
‘I do. I hope I’m fucking tortured with you on the line, too.’ 
Peter tried calling out for you, screamed your name even, but you walked across the street and were swallowed into the crowd. He tugged at his hair a few times before looking around, he wasn’t sure what to do. Get a cab, bus, train? Does he walk in the direction you went? It’s a start. 
Pulling out his phone he tried calling, you sent him to voicemail on the second ring. You’re pissed, that’s fine, he just needs you mad and safe. Peter dodged bodies on his left and right, checking each alleyway for you, assuming you’d stop to collect yourself and call him when you had a breather. 
No sight of you. He doesn’t know where you went from here, it splits two ways. He tries using his boyfriend intuition and attempts to channel you, he’s left hopeless. Like a hail mary he remembers you share locations, Peter’s hands shake when he reaches for the app, your name loading until a small circle appears in his. 
You’re close. He follows the road forward, he knows you took this way and his heart squeezes. You deliberately took the sketchy route, the one you told Peter you wouldn’t dare walk without him. It looks like he’s getting closer, but it’s impossible to tell when he has to wait for it to constantly reload. 
Peter swears he can see your jacket ahead, he calls your phone, picking up the pace and trying his best to catch up. You blocked his call again, but he saw you do it.
He knows you heard your name get called, because you started to walk faster, it’s useless, Peter’s quicker. The only option you had was to hide in the crowd, squeezing yourself in the middle and out through the front. Sighing heavy at your escape, and a bit unamused by the childish behavior. Peter looked down at his phone refreshing your name ‘find friends.’ 
His face crumbled into a thousand pieces when the notification appeared, ‘- stopped sharing their location with you.’ His response was to call you, this time you let it ring out, and he left a nasty voicemail. It was like he snapped, he pulled at his curls and exhaled a loud ‘fuck!’ before gripping his phone so tight he thought it’d snap, and that's why he put it away. 
If you wanted to play dirty so could he, you’re hard to find from the street but when he’s swinging from building to building you’d be out of luck. He was tired and hungry, he wanted this to be over. Fight about it like grown adults, at home, while he’s making a grilled cheese or something. 
Peter ran down a back alleyway, ripping his clothes from his body and pulling his mask from his pocket. The suit came in handy tonight after all. Taking a sharp inhale, he took a leap, screaming out when he took flight. 
‘Not you, not you, not you, not…. You? No, not you.’ 
‘Where the fuck did you go?’ 
You were nowhere to be found, still no answer on his calls or texts. He knows it’s irrational, but he’s terrified you’ve jinxed yourself and really are in trouble. He’s taken the route on a spin three times and he still hasn’t seen you, there’s three options, you either went into a gay nightclub, were kidnapped, or somehow snuck your way across the road and into… central park. 
Of course you did, Peter should’ve known that. He told you one time it was a weak vantage point, he couldn’t see through the treelines all that well, and didn’t have much to swing from. At least he has a general idea of where you are, he just has to do it on foot. 
Maybe you were right, maybe he just sucked at prioritizing you now. He doesn’t know when he became this way. He just feels so responsible, he got a great gift and it’s only right he shares it. He just hasn’t figured out how to share Peter with you and Spider-Man with the world yet. Both people need him at the same time. 
At last, sitting on the edge of the fountain, is the love of his life. Just looking terribly sad, he hates to know he caused it. He may have started the fight, but you said some terrible things, things that were only said to jab at the most vulnerable spots. 
Taking a seat next to you he sighs, his entire body deflating in one breath. You mimic the sigh. 
“Rough night?” 
You hum, “my boyfriend and I got in a fight. Maybe we still are, I don’t know. What about you?” 
Peter stretches his legs, red feet scrape the brick. “My girlfriend went nuclear, kinda deserved. But, she also really hurt my feelings.” 
“Did you hurt her feelings too?” 
“Does that make it deserved?” 
Silence. It didn’t. 
Peter watches you twiddle your thumbs, chewing on your bottom lip and sniffing. 
“I’m sure she’s really sorry, and she knows whatever she said hit a soft spot. It seems like your job comes with some downsides, and maybe she kept it all bottled up until she couldn’t anymore, because how do you tell a superhero you want their attention more than a city needs protection?” 
He knows what you mean, he knows how selfish it could sound, but it’s not. You’re allowed to want him around every second, because he does too. 
“You don’t.” 
Peter can feel your eyes, “you don’t tell the superhero, you tell your boyfriend.” 
Your throat clears, “what if he’s both? What if he’s already spread too thin and his whining girlfriend is his last straw?” 
“No. He’s not spread too thin. He was unaware of how you felt, he didn’t know how much it bothered you. He didn’t know how far he pushed you away.” 
“So what changes now he knows?” 
Peter breaks character, this is about real solutions. 
“We figure it out. We’ll go home and look at our schedules and work around it, and have a set day where it’s only us. Twice a month we’ll have a standing date, attendance mandatory. The police scanner gets turned off unless it’s a slow night, and from now on, unless it’s a domestic attack, nothing comes before you.” 
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