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peachesofteal · 9 months

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PEACH i’m humblingly asking for more omegaverse dead disco, maybe hearing some more thoughts from ghost and johnny about darling’s heat? perhaps they managed to get you to rest (as they’re both still incredibly sensitive) and as they’re talking about what to do, they witness even more self soothing behaviors from darling in your sleep, like they aren’t even there.

i usually don’t particularly read omegaverse, but the way you wrote it??? AGHHHHH I LOVE IT

So, I don’t usually dabble in omegaverse either, this is the first time I’ve actually started to put words down for it (except for a little fic I’ve been plucking away at) so it’s a little intimidating but also fun! I find it very self indulgent but hey, that’s why I’m here. 🩵

I live for your ideas they’re always sooooo good. Takes place after this.

Johnny closes the door behind him, ensuring it clicks shut, but keeping it quiet enough that it won’t wake you.

They don’t need it to open to listen for you, your scent alone will tell them everything they need to know.

“She’s asleep. Finally.” His head droops forward, into Simon’s chest as the bigger Alpha rubs his back gently. They managed to lull you into a heat hazed sleep, both of them emitting enough pheromones to break through your hormone addled state, reassuring you it was safe enough for you to lay in the bed.

“No- no.” Simon strips his hoodie off and places it on the bed, followed by his t shirt and then Johnny’s as they coax you towards the mattress.

“Yes, darling. It’s okay. This is our bed, it’s your bed.” He holds out your own long sleeve t shirt, trying to jog your awareness with your own scent. Your temperature has gone down since they got home, regulated by their ability to relax you, scent you, but it’s evident you haven’t slept in days. You don’t have the strength to manage a cycle right now, and their priority is your health.

The rest has to wait.

“It’s- it’s not safe.” Your eyes dart around and Simon tightens his grip on the back of your neck, just enough to help settle you into to an calmer state, while Johnny eases you onto your side slowly.

“You’re safe. We’re right here. You’re in your nest, at home.” Fat tears pool at your eyelids and then roll down your cheeks while you grab for them, trying to press yourself as close as possible.

“A-alpha.” You whimper and Johnny’s heart chips. How long had you been here, crying for them? Alone?

“Shhh.” He hums, and you wrap your arms around his neck. Simon keeps his chest to your back, steady and soothing subharmonics rattling through the three of you. “Close your eyes, darling. Rest.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Omegas to experience feelings of distress and anxiety during a heat or before, and considering the depth of your emotions on a regular day, it didn’t surprise Johnny or Simon that these heat standard emotions were affecting you so strongly.

But for you to be trying to self soothe, scent yourself, was enough to make them both very, very concerned.

It makes them wonder if there are other things about you, that maybe they don’t know.

“She won’t be down for long.” Simon murmurs into Johnny’s overgrown mohawk, and he nods. When you wake, he knows it will be to unbearable agony, and he dreads those moments when you’ll be upset and in pain.

“Need to go to the grocery store.” He grunts, and pulls away to peer into the fridge, worrying his lip between his teeth as he stares at it’s sparse contents. You haven’t been eating. Anxiety roils his stomach, and Simon rumbles a bit to calm him. You’ll need food, and lots of it, fresh fruit and vegetables, protein. Enough to water and juice to sink a ship, too. It’s been a long time since either of them have experienced an Omega’s heat, and it being yours, makes it all that more intense. Precarious. Precious.

They always dreamed of sharing your heat with you, used to whisper about it to one another during their ruts, dreaming about you, wishing you were with them.

But you were insistent about the suppressants. Stubborn about them. You said you needed the drugs, that you couldn’t handle your heats, that you didn’t want them. That you didn’t want to be controlled by your designation.

And they believed you. They didn’t want to push you, make it seem like they were engaging in overbearing Alpha behavior. They loved you no matter your designation. With heats, or no heats.

“Why did she lie?” Simon questions aloud, staring off at the door. His face is grim, and Johnny shakes his head.

“Dinnae ken.”

“I think… there are a lot of things, we don’t know.” He pauses, and then a look of heartbreak filters across his face. “This… this is my fault. I should have been paying closer attention. I shouldn’t have pushed away my instincts, should’ve taken control.” Johnny’s about to disagree when there’s a spike in your scent, waves of sour tinged distress and confusion pulsing from the bedroom.

You’re curled on the bed, shaking against the sheets, a pillow tucked between your knees and-

Your wrist is rubbing against the gland in your neck, again.

Trying to scent yourself, soothe yourself. Even though you’re laying in a pile of their clothes, even though Simon’s balaclava is twisted around your forearm.

Johnny feels sick.

Why don’t you recognize your own partners? Why are you emulating abused, abandoned Omega behaviors?

Why does it feel like you’re on an island somewhere, where they can’t reach you?

“Darling.” Simon coos, and then starts to break down the tense lines of your body, your muscles, encouraging you to lay flat while you whimper and squeak in your fitful sleep.

They shouldn’t have left you alone.

You curl up against the bigger Alpha, but your wrist finds the gland again, and Simon catches it in his hand, pressing a finger to your palm in circular movements.

“No, no baby.” He holds your hand steady, and you twitch against him, lashes fluttering. Johnny molds himself onto the other side, and replaces your movements with his own, pushing out as many calming pheromones as possible, letting his lips press to your hair, your ear, the soft skin of your neck.

Minutes pass, and Simon holds your wrists firm. You twist and pull against him but they hold you steady between their bodies, gentling you as much as they can until your eyes are blinking awake and you’re wincing in pain.

“I don’t feel good.” You moan, and he hums, wide palm sliding over your belly to tuck you closer.

“I know darling, I know. We’re going to make it better, I promise.”

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco omegaverse au

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peterman-spideyparker · 5 months

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Labels (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hi! So, I've kinda put myself on a writing hiatus for a while and, in turn, have limited my time on Tumblr as of late. I was/still kind of am feeling uninspired in terms of writing and ideas, but this one came easily, and it needed to be written and shared before the excitement left me. I still have a million other stories and ideas I want to get going on, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one. :)

Summary: One evening when Matt tries to surprise you with a home cooked dinner date, he's stunned by something you've done for him.

Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff. No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying

Other Characters: Karen Page

Word Count: 1,158

“Hello?” you say over the phone, very clearly distracted by whatever is in front of you.

“Hi, angel,” Matt smiles, feeling a weight off of his shoulders when he finally hears your voice when you pick up your desk phone.

“Matt.” The way you say his name lights him up inside. It’s alway so warm, so inviting, so smooth—like when butter spreads perfectly even on a piece of toast. The gentleness of each consonant and vowel that escapes your lips never fails to chip away and brush off the stress of whatever is weighing him down; from his day job to his nightly activities, you—every last bit of you, is his solace.

“I was half afraid that I’d get your answering machine,” he breathes as he leans back in his chair, listening to how you move the receiver from one ear to the other.

“I’m sorry, Matt. Today has just been hectic. Meetings, email approvals, we rearranged some furniture because no one was responding to emails—.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize.”

“I do if it means I worried you. I mean, I must have missed calls and texts on my cell from you if you resorted to my landline.”

“No, not worried. I was just curious if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe try that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks from your apartment.”

“I didn’t know there was a new restaurant opening.”

“Yeah,” he lies. “It’s a small place. Intimate, nice.”

“Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that. It sounds like the perfect thing to make me forget today.”

“Take deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”

“I know,” you breathe. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Perfect. I love you, Matt.”

“Love you, too.”

You exchange soft goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Matt sliding his cell back into the pocket of his slacks.

“Hey, Karen?” he calls out.

“Yeah?” she responds, sounding as if she’s lost in thought with whatever is at hand.

“What time is it?”

She pauses. “Almost 2:30.”

“You think that you and Foggy will be okay for the rest of the day?”

“I think so.”

“Great,” he says with a smile, standing up and putting on the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m heading out. I need to get some groceries to surprise my girlfriend.”

Matt undoes the last of your door’s locks as the bag of groceries rests on his hips, relieved when the heavy piece of wood starts to swing open. For as frustrating as your day was, Matt secretly hopes that you won’t come home early and catch him in the middle of his surprise; it took him a lot longer to get everything he needed at the store, throwing off his timing. He’d be lucky if he got everything plated by the time you got home. Matt lets out a deep breath as he places the bag of groceries on the counter and takes his glasses off, centering himself to focus on the plan and not let his race against the clock shake him too much. After hanging his jacket on the hooks by the door, he rolls up his sleeves and throws his tie over his shoulder before taking out his phone, tapping at the screen until he finds the recipe he saved for tonight.

As his phone reads off the list of ingredients, he feels over what he grabbed, cursing when he notices that he’s missing garlic powder.

“She has to have some,” he hums. He knows you like to cook, always eager to try new recipes that you find while scrolling on your phone, and therefore always getting new spices and ingredients to make sure your kitchen is stocked for whatever the next interesting dish brings. Lucky for Matt, you two are always over each other’s place, craving one another’s presence, so he knows your apartment almost as well as he knows his own. Turning around to the skinny cabinet where Matt knows you keep your spices, he opens it up and prepares his nose for the strong mix of smells that are about to hit him so he can sniff out what he needs. As his hand extends into the cabinet, what he doesn’t expect to find is small bumps over each and every label. It’s odd, but familiar. Grabbing one of the spices in the front, he carefully takes it off the shelf and runs his fingers over the bumps once more.

Nutmeg.

Matt lets out a shaky breath, tears stinging at his eyes. He reaches up for container after container, running his fingers over all of the labels, finding that he’s able to read them all. By the time Matt grabs the garlic powder, the cabinet is practically empty and he’s crying in the kitchen.

“Matt?” he hears you call tentatively. He didn’t even hear you come in, and now you’re at his side, wrapping him in a hug and holding him close to soothe him. God, he loves when you hold him. Call it being touch-starved, but nothing felt better to Matt than when you have your arms around him. Sure, being in your apartment is comforting—your smell surrounding him and engulfing his senses, but nothing was better than the actual thing, your body against his, skin to skin. “Matty, is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he sniffles, holding you close and kissing your forehead. “It’s just, uh, well this.”

You pull back slightly from his hug and wipe away some of his tears before peeking down to see what’s in his hands.

“Garlic powder?” you try. “Is it bad?”

“No, no,” he smiles, wiping away some stray tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s great.”

“I thought we were going out to dinner tonight. But with all my spices out, something tells me you might have fibbed.”

“I did fib. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, especially after hearing about your day, but you’re the one that surprised me.” Taking your hand, he gently guides your fingers over the label to where the braille is.

“Oh.” Matt listens to how the blood rushes to your cheeks and how your heart rate picks up. “The label.”

“The label,” he echos softly.

“I finally found a good braille label maker that I liked,” you begin to explain. “I mean, we’re always at each other’s place. I wanted to make my home feel a little more homey for you.”

“You really love me, huh?”

He listens to how you smile from ear to ear. “So much more than you’ll ever know, Matty.”

Putting the garlic powder down, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, your arms happily snaking around him and holding him close.

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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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Incandescent Glow | s.h. x fem!reader

summary: late night swimming with your boyfriend, steve

content: SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral (fem rec), mentions of riding and spooning position, you and steve being so in love it hurts, fluff, pet names, no use of y/n, food mentions

word count: 2.5k

a/n: thank you so much @lilacletter for reading this and for your kind words. ily <3

divider credit

Anxiety courses through your veins when your phone rings at nearly midnight.

Who would be calling this late if it wasn’t some sort of emergency?

You quickly make your way to the telephone and pick it up. “Hello?” you answer, voice filled with concern.

“Hi, pretty girl” You let out a sigh of relief when you hear your boyfriend's voice. “Hi, Stevie. Is everything okay?”

“Nope. Far from okay” he replies and your stomach drops. “w-what’s wrong?” you stammer.

“I miss my girl.” he says, sighing dramatically and making you chuckle. “I thought you were hurt, dummy!” you lightly scold.

“I am hurt. Even more now that you didn’t say you miss me too” he whines. “I haven’t seen you all week, you know I miss you, too. A lot.” you reply honestly.

A week might not seem like a long time to most, but for you and Steve, it felt like a lifetime. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you started dating almost three months ago.

You weren’t ashamed of how much the two of you cling to one another, not one bit. You loved how he always had his hand on your thigh, his arm around your waist, or even just his pinkie looped with yours. Showing you affection was like second nature to Steve. Every touch or glances at each other in a crowded room was a reminder of how much you loved each other, even if you haven’t officially said those three words yet.

His friends always say he’s “disgustingly obsessed with you” and he always tells them “you would be too if you had a girl like her”. Though his friends like to make fun of how soft he is for you, they love how happy you make him. They especially love that they don’t have to listen to anymore stories of failed dates with girls that left him feeling hopeless.

“Can you come over?” He asks and fiddles with the phone cord while waiting for your response. “What’s in it for me?” you joke. “Unlimited kisses, obviously, and I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.” he promises.

“You’ll make your special pancakes?” you ask.“I’ll make my special pancakes.” he affirms.

Steve’s ‘special’ pancakes were just normal pancakes. Sometimes he would add blueberries or chocolate chips, but that isn’t what made them special. What made them special is how domestic it felt when you made them together or when he surprises you with breakfast in bed. Anything Steve does is special, even if it’s something as simple as pancakes.

“You’re very convincing, Harrington.” you say in a sing-song voice.“Does that mean you’re convinced?” you can practically hear him grin.

“I would’ve said yes even without the pancakes.” you tell him and he chuckles. “I know. I just like to spoil you. Do you want me to pick you up?” he offers. “It’s alright, I’ll drive. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Bring a swimsuit.” he tells you. “Why?” you question. “I wanna go for a late night swim with my girl. If you want to”

“Yeah, that sounds fun! I’ll be there soon”

“I’ll be counting down the minutes.”

“You’re so cheesy.” you giggle. “Bye, Stevie”

“Bye, honey”

Steve opens the front door before you even have a chance to knock. He wastes no time pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you, baby” he lets out a sigh of relief at the feeling of finally having you in his arms. “Missed you, too.” you respond, burying your face in his shirt and inhaling the scent of his cologne.

Steve can’t believe how happy he feels right now to have you with him. He’s almost embarrassed at how tightly he’s holding you, scared that if he lets up even a little you’ll disappear.

“C’mon, let’s go inside” he grabs your hand, not letting go until you reach his bedroom. “So, I’ll, uh, let you get changed. If you still wanna go for a swim” he nervously scratches the back of his neck and you can’t help but grin about the fact he gets nervous around you.

“Of course I do. What else is the point of having a boyfriend with a pool?” your arms wrap around his neck and his hands fall to your waist. “So, that’s all I’m good for then, hm?”

“That, and all the free movies from family video.” you kid and he playfully rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I’m gonna get changed in the bathroom, then I’ll meet you out by the pool, kay?” he says and pecks your lips before exiting his bedroom.

Before changing, you take a moment to look around Steve’s room. You’d been in here many times, but usually only to sleep or steal borrow one of his shirts, and you’ve always been too tired to observe his bedroom.

The first thing you take notice of is the nightstand next to his side of the bed. His glasses that he refuses to wear in public lay on the stand out of their case, which you will gently remind him to put in the case when he isn’t wearing them.

“Baby, you gotta keep them in the case or they might break” you’d tell him, to which he’d reply “like that would be the worst thing in the world.” and honestly, it might just be the worst thing in the world. Not only does he need them, despite his protests, but he looks incredibly handsome in them. You also find it sweet that he’s comfortable enough to wear them around you.

Your heart grows about three sizes when you see the picture in the frame that he keeps next to his bed. The picture is the two of you at Robin’s birthday party. You’re both wearing goofy party hats and Steve’s cheeks are flushed due to the drinks he had that made him unbelievably lovey dovey (not that you’re complaining). You’re both smiling so big your cheeks hurt just from looking at it.

That was the night Steve asked you to officially be his girlfriend. You said yes, but kindly asked him if he’d ask again when he was sober. It was the first thing he did when he woke up the next morning.

In the bottom corner of the frame, there’s a polaroid of you he took a couple of weeks ago. He called you late, much like he did tonight, and asked if you wanted to go on a little adventure. You said yes without hesitation even though he gave you no context.

He took you to lovers lake, of course. You both jumped in the lake and quickly got out when you felt the freezing water, giggling all the way to shore. You laid on the ground while your clothes dried and looked at the stars. Steve insisted on taking a picture of you, saying he never wanted to forget how pretty you looked under the stars.

Setting down the picture frame, you realize you should probably change before Steve comes back and finds you snooping through his room. Not that he would mind.

You quickly change into a simple one piece that’s the color Steve loves you in and throw one of his shirts over the suit before heading downstairs.

Steve’s already in the pool once you get outside. He’s floating on his back, but he lifts his head once he hears you walking towards the pool.

“Hi, handsome. Don’t you look relaxed” you observe and sit on the edge of the pool. “Figured I’d get comfy since you were taking too long” he teases, swimming over to you and standing between your legs. “m’sorry. got distracted.”

You run your fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back so it’s out of his eyes. “You look so pretty right now” you say, still running your fingers through his hair. “Do you have a crush on me?” he dramatically gasps, causing you to laugh. “Maybe I do” you move your hand to cup his cheek and wipe off water droplets with your water droplets.

“Are you gonna join me or sit there and look pretty? I’m fine with either one” he says before pressing a kiss to your palm. “I’ll join you if we play marco polo” you jokingly bargain. “Only if I get to be polo” he counters. “You’re so on. Prepare to lose, Harrington.” you say before standing up to remove your t-shirt.

Steve lets out a whistle once your shirt is off and thrown onto a lounger. “You trying to kill me, honey?”

“What? This is, like, the most conservative bathing suit ever.” you chuckle. “You’d make a garbage bag look sexy, babe.”

“Whatever you say, loverboy.” you respond, sitting back on the edge of the pool and sliding into the water.

Once you’re within reach, Steve grabs your arm and pulls you close to him so that your chests are pressed up against each other. His arms wrap around your waist and your wrap around his shoulders, your hands linked together behind his neck.

His nose gently nudges yours before he finally kisses you over and over. The loving and soft brush of his lips over yours fills your stomach with butterflies. One of his hands slowly travels down until he reaches your butt, giving it a light squeeze and a small gasp escapes your lips.

“I thought” kiss “we were gonna” kiss “play” kiss “marco polo” you say in between kisses. Steve chuckles and slightly pulls back. “We can if you really want to” he responds.

“No” is all you say before capturing him in a breathtaking kiss. Your legs wrap around his waist and his hands grasp the underneath of your thighs. His tongue glides into your mouth causing you to moan.

“Fuck, baby” Steve sighs into your mouth. “I wanna taste you” he confesses and you whimper. “yeah? you like the thought of me eating your pussy, sweet girl?”

“yes” you moan, absentmindedly grinding against Steves’ bulge, causing him to groan.

Steve carries you all the way to the side of the pull, encouraging you to sit on the side and you oblige quickly.

Steve uses his large hands to part your thighs and a smirk appears on his face once your legs are spread. “You’d do anything I told you to, wouldn’t you?” he looks up at you, still grinning like a devil. “uh-huh” you nod swiftly.

Steve presses a kiss to the side of each of your knees. He begins kissing up the inside of your thighs, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin. You let out a shaky sigh in anticipation and your fingers thread through his hair, giving him a slight tug.

Once he’s reached the top of your thigh, he presses a kiss to your clothed core. “Steve, please” you plead and he doesn’t think he can make you wait a second longer.

He moves the part of the bathing suit covering your core to the side and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. Your hand that isn’t in his hair grips the edge of the pool to keep you steady when his lips wrap around your clit and he starts to gently suck. “Fuck, Stevie” you moan just loud enough for him to hear, not wanting to alert any neighbours what you’re up to.

His hands hook onto your thighs with a harsh grip and you hope it leaves a mark.

His tongue toys with your clit at a slow, excruciating pace. He loves to tease you, loves to hear you beg for him. He knows it’s a little mean, but you just sound so pretty when you’re begging.

“Faster, please” you whine and that’s all he needed to hear.

Steve doesn’t hold back, sucking and licking your clit like a man starved. Steve’s tongue dips into your entrance and his nose nudges your bud. You throw your head back as you feel your orgasm approaching. You start to grind your pussy on his face, chasing that high you need so badly.

“I’m so close, baby” you groan in pleasure. Steve would know you’re close even if you didn’t tell him. Your breaths have shortened, the grind of your hips has gotten faster, and you have a death grip on his hair.

He doesn’t change his pace or do anything different because he knows you’re about to cum and he’s not going to do anything that would mess up hearing you scream his name as you cum for him.

“Steve, yes!” you scream, neighbours be damned. “I-I’m gonna- fuck- gonna-” you stammer, unable to speak as your orgasm washes over you. The pace of your hips still and Steve works you through your high, pulling away once he knows you’re satisfied.

You collapse onto your back as you catch your breath. Steve hops out of the pool and sits next to you, taking in how beautifully blissed out you look.

He can’t seem to think straight when you turn your head and look at him, giving a loopy smile. Love has been something that’s scared him since he was a teenager. Well, not exactly love, but the vulnerability that comes with being in love. When it comes to you, he’s never felt scared. He’s not afraid to give you his heart or show you sides of him that no one has ever seen, good or bad. Steve feels something with you he was sure only existed in movies and he can’t go another second without telling you.

“Hey” Steve whispers. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah. anything” you say and sit up, scooting closer to him. You grab his hand and give it a loving squeeze and he squeezes back.

“I love you. So much. Almost too much. It’s kinda crazy, actually. Like, I’m always thinking about you and wanna be with you all the time. I hope that doesn’t freak you out or anything, but, yeah, I just really fucking love you.”

“Steve…” you whisper, holding back happy tears “I really fucking love you too”

“Yeah?” he asks like it’s too good to be true. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite person.” you say and he smiles so big his nose scrunches. “You’re my favorite person too. Just don’t tell Robin or she’ll kill me”

“Deal. Now, should we go up to your room so I can show you how much I love you?”

Steve’s never moved faster in his life, practically sprinting inside while dragging you with him.

You rode him for as long as you could until you had no strength left in your legs. After that, you both laid on your sides as Steve fucked you from behind, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, not stopping until sunlight began to stream through the bedroom window.

You eventually fell asleep with your limbs intertwined with his, needing every inch of your body touching his.

Even though he was exhausted from barely sleeping, he still kept his promise to make you pancakes with an extra side of kisses when you woke up. It’s easily the best meal you’ve ever had.

thank you for reading :)

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington 18+#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington

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captainamericasmotercycle · 9 months

Text

I Think He Knows

pairing: remus lupin x reader

warnings: slight angst, fluff, remus being stupid, the marauders being the marauders

wc: 1.9k

a/n: when i come out of hibernation and post a fic 🫣

absolutely DO NOT steal my work and post it on other platforms. DO NOT feed my work to AI fuck that.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Lily to be gossiping late at night in your dorm, however, it was uncommon for Remus to be stopping by to borrow a book this late at night. Usually he would wait until the morning, but something pulled him towards your dorm.

Your dorm room door was slightly ajar and he could hear the soft whispers and giggles coming from yours and Lily’s side of the room. He knew he should’ve knocked, but he couldn’t help himself from overhearing your conversation.

“Lily stop!” A string of giggles followed your comment. He listened in closer at the sudden remark from you.

“Okay, okay! But I know you have a thing for him!!” Remus’s heart sunk to his feet, of course you’d like someone else.

“Of course I do! You know I do! He’s just *so* perfect, Lily, not to mention gorgeous,” he just barely heard the last part, but if Remus’s heart could sink any further than it had, then it would. Even though he’d hoped that you would have any kind of romantic feelings for him, he didn’t count on it.

Now here he was, standing outside of your dorm like a creep, just trying to get some kind of contact with you.

He did not end up seeing you, in fact he doesn’t really want to see you right now.

He turned around to leave when he heard another shrill giggle.

“You think his pranks are funny?!”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I do. But how can you not??”

“It’s so childish!!”

Pranks. It’s James. You’re in love with James. Why wouldn’t you be? Captain of the quidditch team, prefect, gorgeous, and apparently show stopping hilarious.

Remus knew coming to your dorm was a bad idea in the first place and now he really regrets doing so.

His book can wait until tomorrow or quite literally never. How is he honestly going to talk to you ever again? He walked back to his dorm with his head sunken and his heart even more.

He walks slowly to his bed, now in a pissed mood.

“D’you get your book, mate?” Peter asks innocently from his side of the room, while arranging his blankets, however he seemed to have caught Remus in a funk, because Remus sends a pillow flying, hitting him in the head.

Remus lays down and covers his head with a blanket, not speaking another word to anyone.

Back in your dorm, only seconds after Remus booked it out of there, you and Lily are still gossiping, “Lily, I know he doesn’t feel the same way,”

“Remus is just shy, that’s all, I’m not sure he would be too confident to tell you about he feels, that’s why you need to say something.”

You huffed at her, “But I don’t want to, he’s just so amazing and perfect, I don’t know, just talking about this makes me want to die of embarrassment.”

“Stop, it’s not embarrassing,”

Marlene, from across the room, chips in to the conversation, “It is embarrassing how loud you lot are being right now, shut up and go to sleep.”

You and Lily rolled your eyes and shrugged her off before beginning to get ready for bed.

As you slipped under the covers, Lily whispered one more thing to you, “Tell him!”

It’s safe to say you would be overthinking until you fell asleep.

The next morning you knew something was up. Remus wouldn’t look at you or even stay near you anytime you came up to him.

He knows. He has to know. And now you’ve ruined your friendship with him because of a silly crush.

At dinner later that night, you walked into the Great Hall to where you normally sit. Remus was sitting across from James and Sirius and next to Peter. You sat down next to Remus, trying to rekindle your relationship with him.

Unfortunately this was also a spot across from James.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you all day,” James said through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, I was running around school trying to figure out this potions project,”

Remus stands abruptly and storms out of the Great Hall.

James, Sirius, and Peter all share a confused look.

“What was all that about?” Peter looks at you.

“I don’t know, I think he’s upset with me, he’s been like this all day,” you shrug your shoulders and hang your head a little.

“Oh don’t I believe it, I’ve been caught on the wrong end of his attitude. ‘Bout chopped my head off over me asking to borrow a quill,” Sirius rolls his eyes.

James thinks, “Are we missing a full moon?”

“No, it was only 2 weeks ago,”

“I think he knows, you know, about my thing for him, why else would he be avoiding me?”

“I promise you he doesn’t know,” Peter comforts you, “He’s too oblivious to know, you could have your tongue down his throat and he would still think you lot are just friends.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you put your head in your hands.

“You’re fine, he doesn’t know,”

“I don’t know, I should go after him. Should I go after him?”

“Maybe we should just let him be for a minute.”

A minute turned to hours, hours turned to days, days turned into a week, and any of you barely had any contact with Remus.

Until Friday night before the quidditch match, Remus hadn’t spoken a word to anyone and avoided you at all costs.

Before the game he stopped James as he headed into the team’s tent.

“James,”

“Hey, mate, see you’ve finally come to your senses and came to talk to me,” James said with a tinge of sass. To say James was upset at Remus was an understatement, James hated to be shut out by his friends.

“Just shut up and listen. She has this huge thing for you and you should know that, just in case she tries something tonight at the party, just be gentle with her,” Remus shoots out quickly, talking about you.

James looks at him like he’s batshit crazy.

“…What?”

“James I know you’re smarter than you look, you know who I’m talking about,”

“Yeah, I do, but there’s no way,”

“Yes there is, I heard her and Lily talking about you when I went to borrow that book,”

“Okay… are you sure?”

“As sure as the day is long.”

James pulled a face at him, “Okay, mate, yeah. Whatever you say.” He patted Remus on the shoulder as he walked into the tent.

Why was James being so sarcastic with him? Remus would do anything for your attention and affection. Remus brushed off James’ attitude and went to find a seat in the stands

He watched as the Gryffindor team came out of the tunnel and began the match against Hufflepuff.

Both you and James were chasers, Remus sat slumped in between Lily and Mary as he watched you and James fly close together.

In the air, far from the stands, James absolutely unloaded to you about what Remus had said to him before the match.

“I’m serious, I think he’s actually dense,”

“James be nice, he’s probably just not thinking straight,”

“I’m serious, he held me at the tent, telling me how much you are in love with me and how he overheard you and Lily,”

“Oh? What?”

“Yes when he came to borrow that book or whatever,”

“When? I haven’t even seen him all week?”

“It was Sunday night I think.”

Sunday? Sunday. You were talking about Remus. Not James. Merlin, he really is dense.

Neither of your attentions were really on the game anymore and the two of you had just been circling around the pitch passing around the quaffle.

You had Remus stressed. Why were you and James just talking? What are you talking about? This is the worst match he’s ever been to, he should’ve just stayed in his dorm.

Marlene circled around you and took the quaffle, “If you’re going to fly circles around the Hufflepuff players, at least score us some points. Talk about your gossip shit on the ground,” she shouted out.

Finally snapped back into it, you centered your focus on the game around you. How are you going to make this right?

The game ran longer than normal because of the close score, but Gryffindor had ended up catching the snitch, abruptly ending the match.

You and the rest of the team showered and headed to the Gryffindor common room, just ready to conk out on the couches, but alas, the Gryffindor common room never sleeps.

When you arrived, there was a bustling party. James, Sirius, and Marlene jumped right in, some of the other players went up to their dorms, but what could it hurt if you stayed down a bit longer?

You scanned the party for your close friends, mostly Lily. When you had found her, you dragged her off to a quieter part of the room and told her everything James had said on the pitch.

“I agree with James, he’s actually dense,” Lily rolled her eyes.

“Why would he think I have a thing for James? That’s outrageous!!”

“I don’t know, maybe you should talk to him,” she pointed over to where Remus was sitting on the stairs alone, only observing the party, swirling a cup of who knows what.

You approach him, but he didn’t seem to register it; he was lost in his own world.

“I heard you’ve been spying on me,” you say gently, but loud enough he could hear you over the music. He looks up at you and then down at his cup, his cheeks flushed.

“May I?” you point to the spot next to him and he nods.

“You know I think you really are dense,” he snaps his head at you.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. How could you possibly think I like James?”

“You said- you said he was gorgeous and perfect and his pranks-“

“Yeah, I did say he was, but I didn’t say James was,”

“So it’s Sirius or Peter then?” He thought hard next to you, everything you said applies to all his friends.

“Merlin, you really are stupid.”

You roll your eyes at him and grab his shirt pulling him in closer to you. Your lips collide with his softly and he’s shocked, but gives in.

You pull away and he looks at you dumbfounded, “So you said all those things about me?”

“Do I need to make myself clear again?”

“Actually, I do think so,” he says with a smug grin.

You pull him in for another kiss, it’s safe to say he doesn’t think you like James anymore.

#james & peter & remus & sirius #remus lupin x reader #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders #remus lupin #remus is dumb #james potter #sirius being sirius #sirius black #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #lily evans #mary macdonald

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undercoverpena · 4 months

Text

voicemails

frankie morales x f!reader

do we drabble on sundays? is this what we do? well, anyway, here’s some soft sunday fluff. no warnings: except fluff and sweetness and lovely softness. dedicated to @msjarvis who didn't ask for this but I’m giving anyway.

JUST THINKING ABOUT HOW THE TWO OF YOU BEGIN LEAVING VOICE NOTES FOR ONE ANOTHER. It started one time when life took one of you away from the other—the bed you share and the walls you laugh inside of are lonely without the pair of you together. Because it all feels vaster, quieter.

Then it became a thing. A make-do measure, a thing both of you grew to need first thing in the morning and last thing at night. A habit. A tradition. The day not beginning or ending without it.

It quickly becomes a comfort, a thing that brings the both of you joy, happiness—in the same way the scent of your shampoo does for him and how when he’s alone he leans closer to your pillow because it lingers and he consumes as much of it as he can to trick himself he’s not lay in bed alone.

Your voice in the morning makes up for the fact your mug isn’t left on the side or in the sink, all used. Because he hates it when he wakes and finds it in the cupboard, where he put it last night, it rumbling through him and making his chest clench.

There’s a list of things he misses when you’re not home, and if he begins, he isn’t sure he’ll ever stop.

Frankie supposes you’ll have your own list. An itinerary of things you miss about him when he’s out of town. Sometimes you share them, let them slip out and mumble them down the phone when you’re pacing, unsure what to do when he’s not home. It makes his heart squeeze in his chest, all tight, especially when he hears you doing mundane things he usually gets to watch you do, like cook or make a drink.

It’s why he likes the voice notes. Likes being a part of your day even if he’s not there. Has the chance to listen to them on his drive or when he’s brushing his teeth—pretending, even in hotel rooms—that you’re closer than you are. Staring at your contact photo as you say those three words, I miss you.

The voice notes range in topic. Sometimes they’re about your day, about the fucker you work with that he’d love to break the nose off; sometimes they’re a ramble about your breakfast, interspersed with a minor rant about something. Odd times they’re about dinner, hearing you move things in the refrigerator before you confess you’ll order and leave him leftovers.

He has his favourites, a handful of ones he’ll listen to on days where he needs more sunshine. One is the day you tripped, again, over his toolbox. An odd choice, he knows. It beginning all high-pitched, voice tinged in venom and anger:

“Francisco Morales, if you leave your toolbox in the hallway one more time—“

Then it was doused in sweetness, absolute honey, and it wasa exhilarating to fucking listen to.

“—Oh, you washed up. Oh, baby. Well, shit—Frankie, I love you okay? Just put your damn tools away.”

But the one he has saved is one where you’ve tired, exhausted—brain having kept you awake and every noise in the house doing something to make the shadows seem more dangerous than they were. You’re babbling, eyes likely closed, voice just reeling off the things your brain is thinking—no filter, no barrier between thought and tongue.

“—and baby, even though I’ve been sleeping in your clothes, I miss you. ‘Cause you make me happy—so happy, you know that? You have to. Tell you a lot. The bed does feel super weird without you. It’s really cold, and big—like too big. I turned the thermostat up, I know, I know, I’ll turn it down. Oh, and baby, I saw sprinkles moonwalk again on the fence. I did try to record it—but, you know me, I’m clumsy, chipped my phone. Don’t be mad. Please. I know you won’t cause you’re good, kind, nice—god you makemehappy. So tired. Justwanttosleep, you know?—“

He remembers driving back through the night the following day—slipping in, quiet as a mouse. Old training came in handy as he slid out of his boots and cautiously placed his keys.

Frankie managed to miss the floorboard he needs to fix, the one that usually gives him away—and even remembered to not use the light in the bathroom. His last test had been the bed, somehow managing to get in with precision, even roll you closer without waking you.

It’s worth it, all the time away—the voice notes in between—for the life he’s able to build with you and the look he wakes to in the morning.

A thing he thinks each time.

Because you look at him like he solved every problem wrong in your world; you look at him like he makes the impossible, possible.

And, after all he’s been through, he’d been sure that ship had more than sailed. That his chance had gone, faded, slipped through his fingers like water or dust.

But here you are. Your voice filling his ear in real time, whispering a good morning, if he had a safe drive—and he’s full of gratitude all over again. As he is every time he gets to hear your voice—in person or through the phone.

an: sometimes, voice notes are just the best, right? I also love voice mails, and all voice related things.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #Francisco catfish morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction

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shanastoryteller · 2 months

Note

Happy Valentine's! Dealers choice, though I love SIAT

a continuation of 1 2 3 4

Naruto knows when Itachi is due back from his mission because, as always, she’s spent years sneaking into her father’s office and going through his paperwork. She’s still split on whether he genuinely hasn’t noticed (unlikely) or is just letting her snoop on highly classified files (also unlikely) but as long as she keeps being able to get past his seals, she’s going to take advantage of it.

Itachi doesn’t even have the decency to act surprised to see her sitting on his kitchen table and eating his chips. Probably because he sensed her from a literal mile away, but still. “Hello Naruto,” he says, dropping his pack on the floor and heading straight to his fridge for the disgusting weird protein health drinks he gets from the Inuzukas.

Tsume forces those on them semi-regularly and they taste like dirt. She doesn’t understand how Itachi drinks them willingly. “I need a favor.”

“Okay,” he says, tilting his head back and chugging.

She frowns. “It’s a big favor. You’re not going to like it.”

He finishes the bottle and throws it into the trash across the room without looking. “Okay.”

She throws up her hands. “Seriously? Are you really planning on letting me cash in on helping expose Madara for the rest of your life?”

“Yes,” he says.

Unbelievable. She balls up the bag of chips and throws it at his head. He lets it bounce off and fall to the ground.

He does shit like this because he knows it pisses her off. She’s sure of it.

Shikamaru like Naruto well enough, but tends to tune her out a lot of the time, because she’s very loud and high energy and likes to do things that end up getting everyone in trouble except her. It’s not even like she’s using the fact that she’s the hokage’s daughter to get out of it – she’s just that much better at outrunning Anbu than they are.

There’s a joke in there about her avoiding Kakakshi, but since he values his limbs and also his quiet, he never makes it.

When Naruto’s quiet, that’s when they need to worry. Naruto was really quiet around the time she unearthed the almost rebellion of the Uchiha that he’s supposed to know nothing about. She’s quiet now too, blue eyes dark and voice low as she tells them what the first two sections of the chunin exam are going to be like and that they have to be careful.

“Why are you so worried about this?” Ino asks.

Naruto trades a glance with Sasuke then, surprisingly, Sakura. Shikamaru hadn’t been sure those two could untangle from each other enough to make room from the girl from a civilian family, but it doesn’t seemed to have tripped them up too badly. “It’s need to know. For now.”

Considering all the things Naruto talks about loudly and unrepentantly, that’s very, very concerning.

“You’re telling the others this?” Chouji asks.

Sakura nods. “We’ll be waiting in the forest. We won’t go to the tower until you’re all there.”

It sounds arrogant said like that, but Sasuke’s a prodigy in his own right, and the only reason he hadn’t graduated early was because he and Naruto had wanted to be on the same team together.

The reason Naruto hadn’t graduated early was partially due to sabotage – man, had their teacher before Iruka hated her – but also because she refused to correct them, to complain, to make a big deal out of her abilities.

Naruto plays things closer to her chest than even he does.

So if she’s being this transparent and upfront, they better listen.

Troublesome.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #naruto

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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

Text

everywhere, everything – alhaitham

synopsis !! somehow, you find yourself stuck in a broom closet with your academic rival, alhaitham— and oh? is that a mistletoe?

contains !! 2.4k wc , gn reader, enemies to lovers? fluffy drama! dialogue-centric post, some intimacy (obviously)— lots of fluffy love. flustered things, alhaitham can't hold back okay- FOR SOME REASON IM NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS IDK the outline was way longer than I thought, hence the late Christmas post

note !! i joined my first christmas collab event by @dustofthedailylife ! aaaaah and im also practicing scenario events where the setting is restricted (like a broom closet heheh)

11:46 PM, Christmas Eve

You shouldn't have listened to Kaveh. It's his party, in his (shared) house, yet you nodded along when he told you to grab a broom from the closet. It sounded simple enough—

Walking over to the broom closet at the end of the hall, away from the bustling party in the livingroom. Grabbing the handle, pulling it open, almost shrieking when you spotted the actual homeowner standing with the most irked expression on his face, then—

There are hands on your back, shoving you in as the closet door slams, the bang muffled by loud music. Your breath catches in surprise. Your face plants firmly on the forbidden chest. There are clicking noises outside the door handle.

In front of you, Alhaitham scowls and you can practically feel the anger radiating off of him.

"Did- did Kaveh just—" You stutter, still confused from the whirlwind of events that happened within seconds.

"Yes. He did. That bastard, I swear I'll-"

You drown out the insults and threats spewing from his mouth as you turn to look around. The closet is small, very small, the type that shouldn't have people in it in the first place.

The door is firmly on your back and you can feel that Alhaitham's own back is up against the shelves. Next to you stand a broom and mop, taking up the remaining space in the room. It's dark and you could barely tell what's in front of you (this firm thing. . . it is his chest, right?).

"How long have you been here?" You wonder out loud.

"5 wasted minutes. After he knocked over a bowl of chips and told me to get a broom. Honestly, that imbecile–"

"He told me to get a broom for the chips too! What the heck. This was premeditated!"

"Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out."

Your eyes narrow at his comment, glaring at what you suppose was his face.

"If you're so genius, you could have escaped the second he opened up that door."

"Ha, I could have if it weren't for a certain someone getting shoved into me."

"I'm not a wrecking ball, Scribe Haitham." You scoff, shifting to face him better. Of all the people to get pranked with, it just had to be your academic rival —from the day you received second place in the akademiya entrance exams to the day you both proposed the exact same thesis topic— he was always a step ahead and that infuriated you.

5 years ago, Entrance Exam Results Day

Of course, it wasn’t that he’s a smidge better than you that you hate him; rather, it’s because he acts like he’s so much better than anyone else that you hated him — from staring you down the day you tried to congratulate him on getting first place, to refusing to cooperate together despite having the same thesis topic — you believe your reasons for hating him are quite valid.

“You’re Alhaitham, right? Congratulations on receiving first place on the exams!” You greet cheerfully, a hand extended for him to shake. It was the first day commemorating the start of your academic life and you figured you might as well surround yourself with the right crowd.

Yet, he stays frozen, an odd squint in his eyes and you wonder if you should keep your hand out longer.

“It was to be expected.” He states simply, lightly shrugging, before returning to the book he was reading.

To be expected? First place? In Teyvat’s most prestigious academic institution? The one you toiled day and night in, consuming mountain loads of information, just to deserve your rank? Internally, you decided that you didn’t like him and that he’s an arrogant piece of sh– no, good thoughts (Name), you should befriend your schoolmates.

“Hahaha is that so? I guess you really must be smart,” You force a laugh, retrieving your hand, “If you don’t know yet, I’m–“

“I know you. You’re the one who received second on the exams.”

Okay. It’s official. He’s an arrogant piece of shit.

You grit your teeth, smiling, “. . . It was nice meeting you, Alhaitham. See you when lectures start.”

11:53 PM, Christmas Eve

". . . Stop moving." He tells you.

"What?"

"I said stop moving."

"I'm literally just breathing here, do you want me to stop that too?"

"You're squirming like a worm. Do you want to knock over chemicals off their shelves?”

Oh yeah, this was a broom closet.

"I can't help it when you're taking up all the space!" You huff in his direction, trying to get a clearer view of him with squinted eyes in the dark.

"Unless you want to kiss me, I suggest you stop trying to shove your face into mine as well."

You feel your face heat up, a stutter evident in your voice, "W-what? Why on Teyvat would I ever want that!"

"It's a statement, I never said you wanted it." He scoffs. It was getting warmer in the room, the inescapable warmth of him spreading to you and you wonder if your heartbeat was always this loud. You shuffle uncomfortably, how could he even insinuate that? This arrogant guy!

Maybe it was the small space getting to you, or the tension of being so close to someone you clearly feel contempt for, but you couldn’t stop the next words you say.

“Maybe you’re the one who wants to kiss me! How would I know you didn’t plan this with your roommate?” You jibe back, “Honestly, what kind of homeowner gets trapped in their own broom closet!”

“First of all, we both know -as Kaveh’s mutual friend- that he’s a bastard with his mind in the gutters. This is all his mastermind plan. Secondly, if you want to kiss me that badly, you don't even have to provoke me. by starting a fight.” Before you could even respond to that (or manage to comprehend it), you feel him shuffling back, his muscular torso moving to the whims of his arm as it presses against your own chest.

You unknowingly hold your own breath. Thump, thump, thump– is that his heart or yours?

A sound of a chain, metal clinking, reaches your ears.

“H-hold on, what are you doing?!” You panic, flustered.

“I’m trying to grab the pull-switch for a light, what do you think I’m doing?” He all but hisses back, “Now hold still—”

Light floods the room at the clicking sound, blinding you temporarily.

"—Oh, how convenient, there's a mistletoe above us. Now here's your chance to kiss me." You hear him say and you freeze, quickly glancing up at the bright bulb to see the unmistakable mistletoe hanging next to it. Your jaw drops slightly.

"I— I am not kissing you! I told you that!" You exclaim, hands trying to shove him away for what little space you could muster. Kaveh is dead once you get out of here, you think to yourself.

You hear him scoff, "Again, I was only teasing you-"

"Then I suggest you stop!"

"-but I'd rather not reject tradition."

"W-what?"

5 years ago, Entrance Exam Results Day

Alhaitham believes in love. He understands everything about it– from the chemical compositions to the process. He understands the build up of love.

Naturally, it began when he saw your name only second to his first rank. It wasn't anything particularly special, you were a few points below the prodigy and he found it curious how someone managed to keep up with his wits.

“You’re Alhaitham, right? Congratulations on receiving first place on the exams!”

He's frozen. He knows he's staring. There's a hand outstretched for him yet he hasn't willed his own to take it. It's only for a second but internally, he recognizes the lapse in his act. Say something, Alhaitham, say it now–

“It was to be expected.” He states simply, lightly shrugging, before returning to the book he was reading. It lays flat on his hand and he rereads the same sentence, conscious of your presence next to him. He tries to rationalize– he finds you attractive, you seem to be his type, and it's natural for a man such as himself to eventually feel such things and react this way. Not even he, as logical as he is, could be an independent variable for love.

“Hahaha is that so? I guess you really must be smart,” You laugh and he finds the sound pleasant but forced as you retrieve your hand. “If you don’t know yet, I’m–“

He knows you. He saw your name and looked up the basic credentials already, it's natural as the soon-to-be-top student of your batch.

“I know you. You’re the one who received second on the exams.”

“. . . It was nice meeting you, Alhaitham. See you when lectures start.”

It seems he didn't make a good first impression; but that's fine, logically, he has no plans to act on his feelings anyway. As the elders would say– studies first before lovers.

5 years ago, Thesis Proposal Day

Logic was harder to act on when love was the opponent –as Alhaitham later realized– because, Archons, were you difficult to get rid of.

He notices you– everywhere. This shouldn't be surprising considering your similar academic strands and ranks, but that was exactly the issue! He was hyperaware of everything you did and what you would next do.

Alhaitham believes in love. He knows of all the ridiculous tropes, unable to escape the concept of it as it floats around even in one of the most highly rational spaces in Teyvat. He had no plans of pursuing love, it isn't something he wanted to fit into his intricate schedule,

Yet, he feels pulled by it.

He sees you in class, the seat next to you empty, and he wants to take it but he doesn't.

He bumps into you in the halls, your hands carrying stacks of research materials, but you could handle yourself as he glances the other way.

You ask him, almost hesitantly, shyly, if he would like to pair up for one of the most important thesis projects in your lives and– he flat out refuses, because -archons forbid- the remnants of his discipline and self-control be lost over sleepless nights with you next to him, working on something you both proposed.

No, he would not have that. It's not a part of his life plan (you aren't part of his life plan).

Yet, as he passes out papers in class, people's hands brushing against his, he can't help but compare yours– your hand, your fingers brushing on his, skin on skin, he feels it in his nerve receptors, electric despite not electrifying– yours is felt so much more than how he felt the others and he can't describe how.

12:00 AM, Christmas Day

And he feels it again now. The hyperawareness of you on him, like the day your fingers brushed– this illogical, subtle, uncontrollable feeling.

It must be love, he tells himself. He understands love and everything about it and it infuriates him.

But the closet is too small, you're much too close, he wants to do something. Then– he remembers. A mistletoe. Kaveh hung a mistletoe in the broom closet. Mentally, he knew this all along, but now it was becoming increasingly obvious that a mistletoe existed above him (Above you. Above you and him).

Thump, thump, thump– it's his heart beating. He shuffles to reach a chain, he needs to see it to believe it (that a mistletoe is there) but what good would that do? Is it to simply show you? To see how you'd react? A chance for him to act on these frantic feelings?

Love is illogical, it's breaking the bottle he so carefully closed.

“H-hold on, what are you doing?!” You panic, flustered.

“I’m trying to grab the pull-switch for a light, what do you think I’m doing?” He replies and he hopes he doesn't sound too rushed, “Now hold still—”

Light floods the room at the clicking sound, and it blinds him temporarily, but he feels everything– you being there, your clothes brushing against his and your skin on his, everything and everything–

–and the mistletoe, there.

"Oh, how convenient, there's a mistletoe above us. Now here's your chance to kiss me." He says and time unmistakably slows for him. His heart is steady, as if acting on his feelings were the only way to calm his fight with himself.

You look up at him frantically, "I— I am not kissing you! I told you that!" You exclaim, hands trying to shove him away for what little space you could muster.

He scoffs, "Again, I was only teasing you-"

"Then I suggest you stop!"

"-but I'd rather not reject tradition."

"W-what?"

You freeze as he tests the waters. He understands love, he understands all the tropes, the build-up, the chemicals, but -holy dendro archon- is he taking risks.

"I'm asking if I could kiss you."

"Wha-what!"

"You're repeating your words now. Would you like me to ask again or should I give you time to clear your ears?"

Under the warm light, he sees you visibly gulp. He can't help the way he leans in closer, an arm resting on the door beside your head.

"I don't need to clear my ears! I just- I thought you, well, hated me," You hurriedly reply, looking away from his own gaze. The floor is way more interesting, it seems.

"Hated you? Whoever said that?"

"W-well, you acted as though you did. Always avoiding me, always pulling away–"

"I'm not pulling away now, am I?" As if to prove his point, he leans closer, slipping his fingers under your chin to face him directly, "But it seems like you're the one shying away."

You're sure you stopped breathing at some point.

"To be fair, I was trying to avoid you back then. But not in the way that you think." His thumb brushes over your lower lip, "It was never because I hated you. In fact, it's quite the opposite."

Silence lingers in the air at his subtle confession. At the lack of a reply, Alhaitham sighs, "If I'm making you uncomfortable, we can break this door down and yo-"

"I'm not uncomfortable!" You blurt out, "I- I just didn't think you- you felt this way."

"Then may I?"

"May you?" You repeat questioningly.

"Mistletoe." He states and stiffly, he feels the slightest nod of your head on his fingers and–

The door swings open.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, LOVEBIRDS! How are we doing? Is my dear housemate finally getting some action in his bleak life?"

"KAVEH!!!"

prompt !! "oh, how convenient, there's a mistletoe above us."

ko-fi !! commissions !! best m.list

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @stygianoir14 @shizunxie @bluriie @aestellia @abyislan08 @scooterscoob @lordbugs

#dust winter wonderland #yaepublishinghouse #al haitam x reader #al haitham #genshin al haitham #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin fic #kaveh #genshin kaveh #genshin impact imagines

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theblueflower05 · 9 months

Text

So I’m at work feeling particularly yuck(it’s okay I have a vacation coming up) and I don’t want to be in this office anymore-

So I escaped into my brain and conjured up maybe the most delicious maladaptive day dream ever.

Ao’nung x reader x Neteyam-

But the reader is human.

A human who was sent on the second wave to Pandora. And experiment of sorts. She sold her body to science and got a surgery that makes her able to breath Pandoran air(listen, logistics don’t matter)

She turned on the RDA and set out to warn Jake and the other rebel scientists about impending doom.

Blah blah blah.

She ends up in Awa’atlu with the crew.

And she can’t deny the hot rush of overwhelmed butterflies she gets when she catches the Matkayinan Prince staring at her.

Ao’nung is a slut. He loves pleasure; giving receiving it you name it. He’s slept around a lot and he’s very curious about the pretty little sky demon with wide hips and thick thighs. He wants to see what her full breasts look like when they’re not caged by her tawtute clothing-

Neteyam is having none of that shit.

He claims it’s because it’s on him to keep an eye on you like his dad had commanded back when you’d first come to them in the forest. You’re just another responsibility.

It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s been obsessed with you from the moment he met you. That the idea of another Na’vi trying to mate you makes him sick to his stomach.

Circumstances happen. Shit goes down.

Somehow you find yourself being courted by two fully grown, blooded royal male Na’vi.

And it’s like.

A lot.

A lot a lot. They’re overbearing and devoted and you’re just a human girl who’s always had intimacy and commitment issues.

All the attention feels as good as it does scary.

You get gifts of all kinds; jewelry and clothing, food by the pile. Pretty little trinkets that glow and glitter.

Ao’nung takes you to special secret places on the island. Goregous waterfalls and hidden tide pools.

Neteyam takes you on magical ikran rides, you soar above the sherbet clouds.

When you begin pushing them away- not able to choose and deciding that really it’s best that you’re alone anyway.

They form an unlikely alliance.

They both want you. They’ll just have to share.

Now here’s where it gets good.

Imagine these huge hulking beautiful men telling you that it’s okay. You don’t have to choose. You can have them both- as long as they can have you in return.

I could faint just thinking about it.

Starting a physical relationship with them?

Finding out that human pussy apparently tastes nothing like Na’vi women- you’re tooth rottingly sweet and potent and addictive to them and you find yourself with your legs spread and a big head forced between your quivering thighs on the regular.

It’s so much. Na’vi have insatiable appetites and stamina that is literally unbelievable.

As time goes on you learn about the two men.

Ao’nung is deceptively sweet. He’s a caring lover. All service top-y and devoted. He wants you to feel good. He wants you to have whatever you want. He spoils you absolutely rotten. Is pussy whipped from the jump. He is his daddy’s son.

Neteyam? Is mean in bed. He’s demanding and passionate. He loves overstimulation(both receiving and giving) sex with him always leaves you a bawling mess.

Both of them have that first born son chip on their shoulders. They’re more alike then they think they are. Every time you point it out they scoff.

More day dreaming-

Somehow you get kidnapped by Quaritch and Co and omg. The lengths your boys go to to get you back is actually terrifying?

And so hot?

Ugh.

This is my new fave imaginary scenario. I think I’ll escape into it for the foreseeable future byeeeeeee

Also @cinetrix I blame you for this. That new Ao’nung pic you posted has fucked me UP.

I do not have the time to write this but I want to so badly😭

#neteyam smut #ao’nung smut #neteyam x human reader #aonung x reader x neteyam #ao’nung x human reader

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suuuupernovaaa · 11 months

Text

Clean, Part 2

Hobie Brown x f! Reader. Jealousy. Misunderstanding. Making up.

Based on this request. Y/N goes backstage at Hobie's show, and sees something she shouldn't. Hobie shows up to her apartment, and misunderstands what he sees at first. Everyone is angry.

Mature, 18+

You fiddle with the drink in your hands, made much too strong, staring at the rings on your fingers and trying to blink the tears out of your eyes.

"Are you sure something was, uh, going on?" your brother asks, sitting across from you at your small kitchen table. You called him crying 30 minutes ago, and he rushed over to you.

A protective brother never really grows out of the protective thing, really, and your brother takes it to the next level - but he means well. Up until this point, he even seemed to approve of your new boyfriend, Hobie Brown. They hadn't met, but you spoke so highly of him, Grant was inclined to say the guy was half decent.

That might all be ruined now, though.

"Well," you say, wiping a stray tear from your red cheek, "she was like, pressed up on him. And, listen, women should wear whatever they want, but she was really not wearing a whole lot of anything, and it was just, uh, a real picture."

"Okay - what was he doing, though?" Grant asks, and you blink rapidly, trying to remember.

You rounded the corner and saw him, and your eyes lit up the way they always do when you see Hobie, your heart started pounding in your chest with excitement, and before he noticed you, she approached.

She squealed and threw her arms around him, and the way she moved... it was not just a hug. At least, it wasn't the way you'd hugged anyone. Not in public. It was something else, two people pressed so tightly together, absolutely no room for Jesus, and the way she moved her body. Ugh. It was like she was trying to get a fire started right there in the hallway.

But what had Hobie done? You'd turned and dashed out of there before you could really see. You remembered he wasn't hugging her back but, he wasn't shoving her away either. But had he, after you left?

You put your face in his hands. "I don't know. Even if he threw her off, how often are women throwing themselves at him like that? I don't know if I can stand that, Grant."

Grant reaches out, grabbing your forearm, and you look up at him. He shrugs at you. "You don't have to, Y/N. You can choose to break up with him if it's too much. But honestly, I think that'd be kind of stupid."

"You do?" You sit back in your chair, crossing your arms.

Grant stands up, crossing the kitchen to open the cupboard where you keep your snacks. He sighs when he finds it bare minus a bag of blue tortilla chips and some old vanilla wafers. "Yeah. You've never been this happy. Like, it's obvious. Maybe don't throw it away because someone hugged your boyfriend. That's, uh, pretty insecure."

You widen your eyes and gasp. "Grant!"

He turns around, shrugging again, and you resist the urge to throw your gin and tonic at him. "Well, it's true! Do you trust the guy?"

Instead of throwing the drink, you take a sip, and gag a little. Grant loves gin so you keep it around for him, but you truly detest it. It tastes like pine needles.

"Yeah. I do."

"Okay, then get over it and talk to him about-" Your older brother is cut off from what you're sure would be another hurtful rant by a pounding on the door.

"Y/N!" Hobie's voice calls from the other side of the door. "Are you in there? You're ignoring my calls! Where did you go after the show?"

You're stuck, frozen in your chair, your cheeks and nose still red and wet with tears. You and your brother stare at each other for a long moment, and then Hobie pounds on the door again.

"Y/N!"

Grant walks to the door, and pulls it open. You sit across the kitchen, out of view from anyone standing in the doorway.

"Who the fuck are you?" Hobie asks as soon as Grant opens the door. You've talked about your brother, even shown pictures, but Grant looks different in person. He's just a hair shorter than Hobie, making them both very tall men, and while Hobie is extremely strong, he's lean and lanky. Grant is sturdy, built, with wide shoulders and an intimidating brow. "Where's Y/N?"

Grant steps aside without saying a word, and Hobie brushes past him. He scans the apartment for just a second, before spotting you at the kitchen table.

"Y/N!" He rushes over, and you stand up. "What's - hey!" He reaches up to your cheeks. "You've been crying? Who the hell is this guy?" He looks equally angry and concerned.

"It's Grant. My brother."

Hobie's face relaxes, and he gives an exaggerated nod, leaning backwards as he does it. "Grant!" He turns, arm extended for a hand shake. "Sorry about that, mate. Didn't expect to see a strange man in my girl's flat. Not that she can't have friends over, just, you know. Went missing, been crying, strange man here. Not my favorite combination of events."

Grant shakes his hand. "No worries. I better uh, get going. I'll see you around."

He steps around Hobie, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him. "Love you. Call me tomorrow," he whispers, and you nod.

You stand with Hobie, quietly and awkwardly, as Grant puts on his coat and shoes, and finally makes an exit.

Hobie turns to you, arms outstretched. "Okay, what the hell, Y/N?"

You sigh and sit down, and take another drink of the disgusting gin and tonic. Making a face, you push the drink away. Hobie sits across from you and picks it up.

"I'm sorry I disappeared. I... had a, like, meltdown."

Hobie furrows his brow and leans forward. "What happened?"

You feel embarrassed now, and you know your already red cheeks are growing even hotter, probably your chest to match. It was childish and immature to assume the worst and run away, and Grant was right - you let your insecurities get the best of you. You let that become bigger than the trust you had in Hobie.

"It's stupid, but, I came backstage and saw some very beautiful girl kind of, rubbing all over you and I, I just freaked out and ran away. I called Grant. I'm really sorry. It was so dumb. Shit. I'm really sorry."

You're crying again now, and that only serves to add to the embarrassment. Surely Hobie is going to realize that you're more trouble than you're worth, that he could find someone who wouldn't put him through so much over the smallest things, and he'll leave. You wouldn't blame him.

Hobie shakes his head, letting out a little 'tsk, tsk, tsk' with each turn of his chin. "Y/N, that is pretty stupid. You've kicked ass for me before, and you couldn't do it tonight? I don't exactly like when people I don't know press themselves all over my front!"

His words sound harsh, but there's a teasing smile creeping across his lips, and you cal feel the tension slipping from your neck and shoulders.

"I can't just fight every woman who throws herself at you, Hobie."

His smirk turns into a full on grin, and he leans forward, grabbing your hand. "Sure you can. What's the point of having a girlfriend then?"

You throw your head back, laughing, feeling less silly with every joke he makes. When you look at him again, he pulls you up out of your chair, and leads you to your living room, kicking off his shoes and jacket as you go.

"Come on then, let me hold you for a moment," he whispers. He lays down on the couch, and pulls you down on top of him. Your head rests perfectly on his chest, his arms around your back, and your legs between his. Through his shirt, you can feel the steady, melodious sound of his strong heart beating. You rise and fall with his even breaths. You close your eyes, and allow yourself to feel safe and calm as he holds you.

"I really am sorry," you whisper, finally looking up at Hobie. He stares down at you with his soft, beautiful brown eyes.

"Maybe you need a reminder of how much I care about you."

You raise your eyebrow. "Maybe."

He puts two fingers under your chin, beckoning you to crawl up to him. "Kiss me, Y/N," he says in a quiet, demanding voice, and you don't hesitate. Your lips find his immediately and the kiss is explosive. You're both letting out all the tension, confusion, anger and sadness of the ruined evening. His hands find his way into your hair, crushing you to him, pulling just a little, and you moan into his mouth.

Hobie's lips move slowly down to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. "You need to know how I feel about you," he whispers between kisses. "How you're all I think about. I'm obsessed with you."

He pulls down on the collar of your shirt, and you thank the gods it's stretchy when his lips make their way to your chest, sucking, biting and kissing.

"You're perfect. You're mine."

With surprising agility and speed, Hobie flips the two of you over, leaving you gasping underneath him. He reaches down, grabbing you behind your knee, pulling your leg up along his side, and stares down at you.

"Too many clothes," you say, and he nods in response. He pulls his t-shirt over his head, and then reaches underneath you to undo your bra. He pulls that and your t-shirt swiftly off of you, and then undoes the buttons on your jean shorts.

Suddenly, he stands up. Bending over, he lifts you up bridal style. "Bedroom, I think," he says, holding you to his bare chest. It's a small apartment, and only a few steps before Hobie is tossing you onto your bed, leaving you in a fit of giggles.

As he undoes his belt and pulls his jeans off, you remove your shorts, as well, both of you left in just your underwear.

You lay back, propped up on your elbows, watching as he crawls up to you. You feel his breath on your thighs, your waist, and he's kissing your stomach.

His hand grazes over your ass, over your thigh, and as his mouth finds your breast, his fingers brush over your panties, just between your thighs, and you have to lay back on the bed and close your eyes.

"Hobie," you whisper, your voice just a breath. He pulls your panties to the side, and finds the immense wetness already gathered there.

"Fuck, you're wet," he moans with your nipple in his mouth, and begins toying with your clit. He rubs it in circles, up and down, and then his fingers dip down to your entrance, just teasing, before he's back at your clit.

You throw your arm over your face and let out a long, low moan. "Oh, god," you say, chest heaving.

His fingers leave your clit again, and he pushes them slowly into you, the metal of his rings creating a shocking, cold sensation.

"So fucking tight and wet," he moans, and brings his mouth to yours for another intense kiss as his fingers pump slowly in and out. He curves them upwards, finding that perfect spot, and you spread your legs as wide apart as you can underneath him, thrusting back up to meet him for every perfect stroke. "I want you to cum for me. I want you to be loud. Scream my name," he demands.

His fingers leave you, returning to your clit, using the perfect amount of pressure, swirling around, and you feel the coil forming.

"Oh, god, oh, fuck, Hobie, please," you pant into his mouth. His other hand is on your nipple, twisting and pulling gently, and it's an overwhelming combination of sensations.

He plunges his fingers into you again unexpectedly, and it sends you over the edge. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, over and over, and he moans almost as loudly as you into your mouth at the sensation of it.

"Yes, fucking cum on my hand," he whispers, not letting up until you reach down and move his hand away.

He collapses next to you, staring at you while you gasp for breath, a light sheen of sweat over both of you.

He never even took your panties off.

Finally, you look over at him, and he smiles softly at you. "That doesn't even begin to fucking cover how I feel about you, love."

You reach out, placing your hand gently on his cheek. "Can I show you how I feel now?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Oh, if you must, my love," he says, and winks.

#Hobie brown smut #Hobie brown x reader #Hobie brown fic #Hobie brown x you #hobie brown

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yesimwriting · 3 months

Note

MA'M I LOVE YOUR BEST FRIEND FELIX WRITINGS BUT MY JEALOUS AND SOFTY SHORT ASS CAN'T HANDLE IT 😭 IM HURTING MYSELF BUT IT HURTS SO GOOD, LIKE IF I WAS BEST FRIEND Y/N ID BE BAWLING MY EYES OUT AFTER SEEING HIM WITH ANOTHER GIRL LIKE- WHY IS ALL OF THIS SO CARDIGAN BY TS CODED-

a/n i love taylor and taylor related angst and i get the jealousy thing,, but i think the thing with bestfriend!felix is that he's so obvious about his priorities that by the time reader can register jealousy,, felix is already there

so here's a drabble

----

Going out tonight wasn't your idea. A week of long lectures and even longer homework had drained you. But Felix wanted to...and you...You wanted to be around Felix.

Maybe Farleigh's comments about you following Felix around like a puppy aren't as exaggerated as they feel when you're sober. Ugh. The thought of Farleigh being right gives that pinch of irritation something to latch onto.

"They have those drinks you like." The voice is clear despite the base of the music that you can still hear from right outside the club. You turn your head away from the group of stragglers hanging around the outdoor bar. "Had. I got the last one."

You grin at Felix, any lingering angst not exactly evaporating into the cool night air, but the shift is enough to make the smile feel unforced. "Lucky."

He's finally within arm's reach, a fact that he takes advantage of immediately. Felix's palm settles against your shoulder, his thumb dragging across your skin. "Extremely." There's a fondness there that chips away at what's left of your irritation. "Here." You take the glass from him. "Sam almost tackled another bar tender to get the last of the simple syrup."

Ironically, the sip that's halfway down your throat seems to lose any hints of sweetness as soon as the words come out of Felix's mouth. You've met Sam, and while you don't dislike her, you're not sure the neutrality is mutual.

It's a fact you don't dwell. Sam's a bottle blonde bar tender who looks like she was born to walk around in low cut tank tops and cut off shorts. Not that her being pretty matters, but there's an edge to her beauty that implies an effortless coolness that doesn't usually meld with who you are. It's no one's fault. You think those types of girls are charming and fun in a way that's somehow even bolder than the friends that you consider wild. It's just never been a mutual admiration.

And Sam's been hanging around Felix a lot lately, showing up at parties, staying later than anyone else besides you. They've gone home together a few times. Felix hasn't said too much about that, but that doesn't indicate anything. You guys don't talk about that kind of stuff. Even best friends as close as you two have boundaries.

Not that it matters if Felix is with someone like Sam. She seems fun and pretty and bold and--the total opposite of you.

That hits you like a thumb jabbing into a bruise. Since when is Felix's constantly rotating door of flings a sore point? When he pawns you off on Farleigh--even when he's not in the mood for you--so he can have a moment in the employee bathroom.

"Y'okay?"

You nod, "Yeah." Felix's eyebrows pinch together, a barely there implication of concern that's almost ignorable beneath the poor lighting. "Everything's just kind of hitting me a little."

He nods, "Do you need to sit?" Felix's hold on your shoulder tightens. "Is that why you came outside?"

"Uh--no." The response feels flat. "I mean--yeah, I wanted some air, but I don't feel sick or anything."

He watches you openly for what feels like its own eternity. You're not sure what he's looking for, but you must not pass the inspection because he frowns. "Okay." As if to validate Felix's attempt at letting your mood go, you bring your glass back to your lips. "You know--if you're not feeling--if you want to go, you can tell me."

"I know." You do know that. Felix has always been good about listening, about wanting to make sure you're comfortable.

You take another sip of your drink. Of course Sam's good at mixing drinks. You can picture her tripping over herself, rushing to grab the nearly empty bottle of syrup and risking making an enemy of a coworker to avoid having to tell Felix no.

Felix takes a step forward, his hand sliding across your back so that his arm can settle around your shoulders. It's instinct to lean into the contact. He's warm in a way that rivals the buzz in your system. "When we do go, we're going to have to go out the back way."

You let your head rest against his side. "Why?"

"Don't think Sam's going to be going out of her way to get me drinks again."

You crane your neck to look up at him, "What? Why?"

His eyes meet yours, and then he's dropping his gaze to the floor. "You have become such a gossip."

A sound that's a combination between a scoff and a laugh tumbles past your lips. "Have not."

"You and Farleigh," Felix continues, "You two always need to ask, always need to have an opinion."

"Not true," you defend weakly, "If I was a gossip I'd talk about how slutty--"

You cut yourself off, regretting your phrasing as soon as the word is out. Felix pulls back slightly, mouth falling open in exaggerated offense. "You called me a slut?"

"No," you defend yourself through a laugh, "I was saying that you have been slutty." Felix raises his eyebrows at you. "It's different." Felix's eyes narrow in an attempt to offset the smile tugging at his lips. "It is."

"Yeah?" He leans forward with no warning, his lips pressing against your cheek. That kiss is followed by another. Again and again, each more affectionate and touchy than the last.

His lips brush against your jaw. "Fe-lix." It wants to be a warning, but the nervous giggle that breaks his name into two makes coming off as threatening impossible.

"What?" He hums, his lips finding your neck. "If I'm that slutty, we should have a go at it."

You laugh, ignoring the heat burning its way up your neck because it's just Felix. "There's a bathroom inside."

Felix stills before pulling away enough to look you in the eye. There's the faintest flush tinging his skin. You laugh again, this time the sound fuller. It's nice to see flashes of the softer side of Felix while out in the real world. Felix laughs with you.

You tilt your head, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "For you, I'd spring for a hotel room."

"Now I feel special."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

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

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forever-rogue · 11 months

Text

We’re Magic

AN | Here we have an early morning shower idea come to fruition. Basically - friends to one time lovers to co-parents to ?? Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language, Mentions of Sex and Pregnancy

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Come on Ducky, we’ve gotta go!” you grabbed your young son’s backpack and tried to herd him towards the door. He came bounding the hall, his dark mop of curls bouncing with each step. He quickly flopped himself down onto the floor by the front door, and pulled on his small sneakers. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm for…well, everything. He was such a sweet, happy kid that it served to make you happy as well, “did you put everything you need in your backpack?”

“Yes,” he nodded, slowly creating bunny ears to tie his laces. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he hopped to his feet and took the backpack from your hands, “come on, mama! We gotta go!”

You snorted in amusement as he echoed your words, opening the door so you both could go to the car. You got him all settled and buckled in before going to the driver’s seat and taking a moment to breathe. Herding around a five-year-old with the energy of ten kids was a lot at times.

“Ready to go?”

“Mhmm,” he was already staring out of the window at the passing scenery, “do you think daddy will read my new book to me tonight?”

“I don’t think, I know he will,” you imagined the two of them would be equally enthused, “daddy loves reading and I happen to know that the book you picked out is one of his favorites. He’s going to be so excited.”

“That’s good,” you caught his eye in the rearview mirror and gave him a smile, “I wish you could be there too.”

You heart twanged at that and you hesitated for a moment so you didn’t blurt out me too. You tried to keep your expression and tone as even as possible before nodding, “we’ll see, baby. Maybe one day soon we can both put you to bed together.”

“Okay,” the smile on his face reminded you so much of his father. You’d make it happen somehow - the idea of disappointing your son was too much to bear.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Emery held onto your hand as you knocked on the apartment door. A rush of nerves washed over you as you listened for his familiar footsteps. A few moments of silence passed before the door slowly opened.

“Daddy!” the boy immediately dropped your hand and ran and jumped into his father’s arms.

“Emery!” he held onto him tightly, giving him a tight squeeze as the boy threw his arms around his neck, “I missed you, baby.”

“‘missed you too,” he giggled as his father placed giant, sloppy kisses to his cheeks before setting him back down, “did you make pancakes?”

“Blueberry and chocolate chip,” he confirmed as Emery cheered, “why don’t you go to the kitchen and I’ll be right there. I want to talk to mama for a moment.”

“Okay,” Emery turned back to you and hugged your legs tightly as you ran a hand through his soft curls, “bye mama, I love you!”

“I love you too, Ducky,” you kneeled to give him a kiss, “remember your manners and don’t forget about your new book.”

“I won’t!” he took his backpack from you before taking off towards the kitchen. You watched him go, shaking your head in amusement.

You let out an amused sigh before standing back up, “hey Eddie.”

“Hey,” he leaned against the doorframe, calm and confident as always as he offered a soft smile, “anything important I missed or need to know?”

“Nah,” you shook your head, “you would have known already, trust me. Although he did get a new book he’s super excited to have you read to him, so be prepared.”

“Consider me equally excited,” he grinned as a moment of silence fell over the two of you, “how are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “just, you know, same old same old. How about you, Eddie?”

“Same, good, yeah,” you could both tell there was more you both wanted to say but neither of you was able to take that to the next step, “it’s good to see you.”

“You see me every other week and or more,” you laughed softly as he just shrugged, “we share a child after all.”

“But we were friends before that,” he reminded you gently, “and I’d like to think we’re still friends. Even now.”

“We are,” you promised, blinking back the few tears that had started to well up, “of course we are…”

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, reaching over to brush a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “everything all right?”

“No - I-I mean yes,” you insisted gently, “I have to go…I, umm, I’ll see you in a few days. Have fun and let me know if you need anything.”

“Of course,” he watched as you turned around to start walking back to your car, “hey - you let me know too, okay? Anything.”

“I will, Eddie,” you held up your hand in a small wave before slowly walking away.

You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever fully be over your feelings for him.

It had been years and it hadn’t happened…but maybe one day. Maybe.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few weeks had passed since your…interesting interaction with Eddie. You wouldn’t have called it bad or anything, just…different. The two of you both seemed to keep your distance a little more than normal coming solely about your son. Despite the fact that two of you didn’t hang out or talk a ton anymore, you were missing him. What he had said was right - you’d been friends first for years before you had Emery and you were still friends. Things were just different - complicated.

This weekend however it would be impossible to avoid Eddie and that worried you just a little bit. It was Steve’s daughter’s eighth birthday and the entire gang and then some were going to be at the Harrington household to celebrate. Naturally, you and Eddie would be there with Emery. It would be fine…right? Right. It was just hanging out with your friends and having your kids hang out and play. What could possibly go wrong?

And it was fine, really, until you volunteered to help clean up the backyard when the majority of everyone else had gone home. You and Eddie were still there along with Robin and Dustin, Steve and wife Samantha and the kids. It was getting late and you didn’t want to leave them to clean up the entire mess so you’d offered to help contain some of the chaos out back.

You just hadn’t heard Eddie come out back with you. Until you heard a noise behind you, causing you to startle, “Eddie! Jesus, you scared me!”

“Sorry sweetheart,” he smiled sheepishly as you tried to ignore how your heart practically skipped a few beats at the little pet name, “can I help?”

“Of course,” you handed him one of the trash bags and the two of you fell into silence as you worked to clean up the mess. With the two of you working together, it didn’t take long for some order to come back and you sat down on the deck with a small plop, “let’s have Emery’s next birthday party at some other place we’re not responsible for cleanup.”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” Eddie agreed as he sat down next to you. He gently bumped his shoulder into yours causing you to laugh softly at him. You’d missed this, getting along so effortlessly and easily with him. He cleared his throat softly causing you to look at him curiously, “hey, what’s been going on, huh? Is everything okay with us?”

“Of course,” but your answer came too quickly to be entirely true. He waited for you to go and you knew he wouldn’t just let it go, “we’re okay, Eddie. I’ve just been thinking…I guess.”

“About…?”

“Emery…us,” you swallowed thickly, “I…were….did you hate me when I got pregnant?”

“What!?” he barked with laughter for a moment, unable to tell if you were joking or not. Judging from the serious expression on your face, he could tell you weren’t, “w-wait, what do you mean? Of course I didn’t hate you…I could never hate you.”

“But we were best friends,” the corner of your mouth pulled up as you shrugged, “and we just…it was one time and I got pregnant and now we have a son.”

“First of all, you’re still my best friend,” he promised and that set your heart at ease, “and yeah, it was a one time thing that happened when we were both going through it, but in case you forgot, it takes two to get pregnant. It was just as much on me, if not more so. And the son we have? He’s the best fuckin’ kid ever and he’s the best thing that ever happened to me, along with you.”

“Eddie,” you couldn’t help the teary-eyed smile that crossed your features, “that’s really…I feel the same way. There have been times when I wondered if the right thing to do would have been to get an abortion, and if you wanted me to and just never said anything.”

“I would have supported you with whatever you wanted to do,” he reached for your hand and tenderly took it in yours and gave it a squeeze, “and I never secretly hoped you’d get an abortion. I was scared shitless when you found you were pregnant and I never thought I could handle it, but at the same time the idea of being a dad and having that kid with you made it not nearly as scary. It made me excited and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You’re an amazing dad Eddie,” you squeezed his hand in return, “and an excellent co-parent.”

“So I’ve been told!”

“Oh? By who? Got some other kids I don’t know about?”

“Nah,” he shook his head fervently, “just ours. You’ve told me that before, you know.”

“Well, it’s still true,” you turned your body and angled yourself so you were closer to him.

“And you’re an excellent mother,” he leaned in so your faces were only a few inches away from each other, “and the best co-parent too.”

“Thank you…”

“But tell me,” he reached over and gently brushed his knuckles along your cheek, “what’s still going on? I know there’s more you’re not telling me everything…”

“Ummm…” you leaned in closer and you were almost positive that he did the same thing. The tips of your noses brushed and oh my god you were sure he was going to kiss you. And you wanted him to…just as desperately as you wanted to kiss him.

But then -

“Mama! Daddy!” the sliding glass door and Emery ran out, causing the two of you to quickly pull apart. Eddie’s cheeks were a bright pink as your own face felt incredibly hot and you felt so flustered. Meanwhile, your son didn’t seem to realize that he’d interrupted anything at all, “Uncle Steve said we can have some cream! Can I have ice cream?”

“Sure Ducky,” Eddie beamed at him, “go and get some, we’ll be right inside.”

“Who am I going home with tonight?” he asked, those big brown eyes wide and innocent as ever. You exchanged a look with Eddie and both of you seemed panicked.

“You can go with whoever you want, baby,” you gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. There wasn’t really a strict schedule with the two of you, and he usually ended up spending equal time with both of you.

“I wanna go with you and daddy,” he pouted, the expression on his face so similar to his father’s, “can we all go home together?”

Alright, now you weren’t sure what to say. You decided to make a decision and if Eddie didn’t agree or like it, he would have to speak up. But you hated seeing the upset look on Emery’s face, “sure, baby. Maybe daddy can come home and stay with us at the house tonight?”

Eddie looked at you to make sure you were fully sure of what you were saying. You gave him a slight nod before he practically beamed at you, “of course I can! I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

“Yay!” he hugged the two of you before turning back to run inside, “I’m gonna get ice cream and tell Uncle Steve!”

You watched him disappear back into the house and the two of you exchanged a nervous laugh, “you really sure, sweetheart?”

“It’s like you said, Eddie. We’re still friends and he’s our kid. And I hate seeing him upset.”

“Me too,” he agreed, “it’s the worst. He’s got this little…baby cow eyed thing going on and I can’t handle it. He’s just so…adorable and I’m not biased just because he’s ours.”

“His expression is the exact same as yours,” you pointed out, “why do you think I’ve never been able to say no to you?”

“Ahh,” he slowly stood up and held his hand out to help you up, “we’ll figure it out when we get home, yeah?”

“Of course,” a million things were running through your mind and all of them landed back to how much you loved the two of them, “we always do.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time the three of you got to your small house in the suburbs of Indianapolis, Emery was already halfway to sleep. Eddie gingerly took him out of the car and carried him inside.

"'m tired," the small boy said through a yawn, "will you tuck me in?"

"Duh," Eddie teased as he started walking to his room. You nodded when he glanced back to make sure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries, which he wasn't of course, "come on, Ducky. Let's get you to dreamland."

It didn't take long to get his teeth brushed and into pajamas and Eddie tucked him just how he liked. Before he left the room, Emery called out to him, "daddy?”

"Yes, bud?"

"Will you be here in the morning?" His voice sounded so small and unsure that it made Eddie’s heart break slightly. He knew that all his son wanted was for his parents to be together. He’d expressed that very same thing to him multiple times before. Eddie wondered if he’d ever told you the same thing, “we can all make breakfast together and watch cartoons!”

And if he was being completely honest - Eddie wanted the exact same thing. He’d been in love with since you were fuckin’ children. That had never changed, even when your one night hookup resulted in you getting pregnant. Back then he wanted to tell you that he was in love with you, and that he wanted to be a family together. But he could never tell if you felt the same way so he brushed it all to the side and decided to work on himself and be the best father he could be. He’d always have you in his life and that was the best thing of all - you and Emery.

“Yeah, Ducky,” Eddie promised him, “I’ll be right here. Get some sleep, okay? I love you lots and lots.”

“Lots and lots,” he yawned before reaching for his stuffed puppy dog, “goodnight, daddy.”

He turned off the light and gently closed the door, before taking a moment to compose himself. The kitchen light was still on so he padded down the hall towards, trying to figure out how to even convey everything that was buzzing around in his head.

“Hey,” you were drinking a glass of wine and had already pulled another glass for him, “fancy a drink?”

“Sure,” he watched as you poured him a glass and handed it towards him, leaning against the counter, “Emery asked if I’d be here in the morning. He wants all of us to make breakfast together and watch cartoons. I-I can just head out in a little bit and come back around seven…if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to leave,” you scoffed at even the mere suggestion of him having to make the same trips for no reason, “there’s the guest room. And of course we can do all that tomorrow, it sounds fun! Maybe we can take him to the zoo later on or something. He’s been asking to go.”

“Y-yeah,” his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest at the idea of spending all that time together as a family, “that sounds great!”

“He’s been asking for this a lot,” you admitted after taking a big gulp of the sweet wine in your hand, “to spend more time together as a family.”

“I think it’s hard for him to understand,” Eddie said softly, “that we’re not together. It’ll get easier as he gets older…hopefully.”

“Yeah,” you swallowed the lump that welled up in your throat, “but I think that could be fun too…and good for him. He knows we care about each other.”

“We do…” it was so much more than just caring for each other. So much more, “listen-”

“Were you going to kiss me earlier?” and there it was. You couldn’t hold it back any longer - you had to know.

“I…” he could have lied…but that wasn’t him and honestly? He was so tired of hiding all of his true feelings, “yes. I was going to kiss you.”

“Oh okay,” your mind was reeling as you processed what he had just said and your lack of response caused Eddie to panic and think he said the wrong thing, “I was going to kiss you too. I wanted to.”

“You…you wanted to?”

“Yeah,” you glanced at him for a brief moment and him smiling with a light pink flush creeping into his cheeks, “I’ve been thinking and…fuck, I probably shouldn’t say this but I just, I want to get it out there. Eddie, I’m…I’ve…love. I-I love you.”

“I love you too…” he was trying to figure out if you meant you loved him as your best friend or as the father of your child or if you meant the third option which was that you were in love with him and loved him in all the ways.

“No, you don’t understand…I’m in love with you,” that was almost two decades of stress removed from your shoulders and you felt so much lighter. It was out in the open now and whether or not anything came of it, the secret was out, “and yeah…now you know.”

“How long?” his response didn’t give you a lot of hope, but then again, you weren’t totally sure what you’d been expecting, “honestly.”

“Since we were like twelve,” your voice was so gentle that he almost didn’t hear it but he did - he’d always heard you, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for, sweetheart?”

“I don’t want to make things weird between us,” you shrugged nervously, “but it’s just…that sometimes I can’t think about anything else, especially when Emery’s asking why we don’t live together and why we’re not like the other parents. I just think about it all the time and then think about how much I fucked it all up!”

“What did you fuck up? You haven’t done anything wrong,” he set his glass down and shuffled so he was standing in front of you and looking at you curiously, “tell me.”

“When we had sex,” you hadn’t even realized tears had run down your cheeks until he wiped them away, “and I got pregnant - I should have told you then. And maybe things would be different now.”

“You’re telling me that you’ve never noticed that I’m in love with you too?” he put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his, “I think I was fourteen when I realized…took me a little bit to catch up.”

“What?”

“Mhmm,” he trailed his fingers along your jaw, “I just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way. When you told me you were pregnant, it was the scariest day of my life…but then I realized things would be okay. There’s no one else I’d rather have a kid with. It was never just sex for me, and it never would have been. Not with you, not with the girl of my dreams. And I thought maybe that would have been the start of our own family. But I never knew if you felt the same way so-”

“I never said anything,” you finished for him and he nodded in agreement. Your mind was reeling with everything he had just said but also stuck on girl of my dreams, “so…have we just been idiots this whole time?”

“I guess so,” he let out a nervous breath as you giggled, “I don’t think our son was so oblivious though. Somehow I think he’s always known.”

“Smart kid.”

“He takes after you,” Eddie joked as you snorted in amusement.

“Well, he looks just like you,” you teased, “imagine being pregnant for nine months and giving birth to your best friend slash baby daddy’s clone.”

“At least you don’t hate me,” he offered as you playfully rolled your eyes, “I have a comment I could make right now but I’m not sure how well it’ll go over.”

“Try me.”

“We’ll make sure the next one looks like you,” he seemed hesitant but when you started laughing he relaxed and laughed too. You ended up looking at him with wide, gentle eyes, “may I kiss you now?”

“For real this time?”

“For real,” he took your face in his hands and studied you for a few, long moments before he pressed his lips to yours. His large, strangely soft and rough hands settled on your waist as you looped your arms around his neck. You let him pull you closer, and found it so easy to kiss him. It was even better than you remembered, and it felt like everything.

Neither of you wanted to pull apart and refused to do so until you both needed a breath of air. Shy smiles and nervous laughs were exchanged as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“So, ugh…” you took one of his long curls and wrapped it around your finger, gently playing with it, “umm…we have a lot of stuff to talk about, I think.”

“We do,” he took your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “we do.”

“But, if you don’t want to spend the night in the guest room,” you bit your lip, “you can stay with me in my room.”

“Yeah?” he perked up at the idea. It wasn’t even that his mind immediately went to sex - he wanted to spend every and any bit of time with you that you’d allowed. The sheer intimacy of being together was something so special, “I-I’d like that.”

“C’mon,” you took his hand and started to pull him down the hall to your own room, “it’s late and I’m honestly just tired. And if you want to change, I’ve, ugh, still got some of your clothes.”

“Little thief,” but in reality he was touched that you still held onto them, like you’d always wanted a bit of him around. You shrugged innocently as you pulled him inside and shut the door, “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” you leaned up and kissed him, “and I like hearing it. And now being able to say it freely, “I love you too.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next morning you woke up to a small knocking before the bedroom door slowly opened, “mama?”

You sat up slightly and found Emery in the doorway, halfway to looking upset.

“Hey Ducky,” you motioned for him to come over, “what’s wrong?”

“I can’t find daddy,” he pouted, “he said he’d be here.”

“‘m right here, buddy,” Eddie popped up next to you, causing Emery’s entire face to light up, “I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Can I come in and lay with you?” he was already crawling into bed as you nodded, sliding his way in between you and Eddie. He got under the covers and made himself comfortable before grinning at the two of you, “I like being with both of you. Can we do this all the time?”

“I like it too,” Eddie brushed his hair off his forehead, “I don’t know about all the time but mama and I can talk about it.”

“Maybe we’ll stick to weekends,” you raised an eyebrow at the two of them but they both just started giggling. It wasn’t hard to understand why these two were the lives of your life, “but we’ll see.”

“I love you, mama,” he pretended to squirm away as you kissed him, “I love you, daddy.”

“We love you too,” Eddie looked at you before mouthing the same sentiment to you. You mouthed it right back, without hesitation, “now - let’s get some sleep before we make breakfast and watch cartoons.”

You weren’t sure exactly how things were going to end up or turn out, but you knew that it would be something wonderful.

You finally had everything you had ever wanted, all in one bed.

Everything else would fall into place as it was meant to.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #dad!eddie #mom!reader #joseph quinn #st

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mrscarmenbearzatto · 4 months

Note

So glad you're back!! Would you ever consider writing for Carmy x Richie's younger sister again?? I had an idea (if you want to write it, please dont overwhelm yourself) where reader and Carmen are fighting while reader is pregnant with their first baby and Carmen says something kinda mean to her and then she goes into laboro unexpectedly?! And seeing how Richie would react to that and be so defensive of his little sister 🥹

hi love! hope this is okay :) | fem!reader, mentions of a hospital, nicu stay/labor

You know he didn't mean it. Calling you stupid for showing up to the Bear that day when there was tools laying about, too many unknown people being around. He was just a worried soon-to-be dad, but that didn't make it easier.

Carmen was always protective over you, and now that you two had a baby on the way, it heightened. He was already on edge with the amount of repairs being done that day in the Bear, and the hazardous scene the restaraunt was in. He was just stressed out and took it out on you, like an idiot.

You didn't stick around to hear his apology after the words slipped out of his mouth. "Why are you being so difficult about this!? Showing up here was fucking stupid of you!" Nat took you outside to get you both away from each other, give you both some space to breathe. You could hear Carmen leave the restaraunt, disappearing to who knows where.

You sigh as you lean against the fence outside, gripping it with one hand. "He didn't mean it, it's just- there's been a lot happening today. Like a lot. Our fridge guy couldn't come and then a health inspection." Nat tried to explain. You were barely listening as your eyes squeezed shut. The pain in your abdomen and back you'd been briefly experiencing for the past few minutes had subsided as you let out an exhale. Syd stepped out at the same time.

"Hey, woah, you alright?" She asks. "Yeah, yeah sorry. Just Braxton Hicks. They just haven't been this intense." You answer. Syd stares at you both before clearing her throat. "I think your water just broke." She says.

You stare at her for a second, almost laughing. "Funny, Syd, but this isn't the time-" You look down and realize she's right. Your water just broke. "No, no, no it's too soon. We don't.. Carmen has to be here. You say, your voice filled with panic.

"Honey, I don't think you have a choice. Let's go to the hospital, okay? Syd, call Richie and Carmen, tell them to meet us at Chicago West." Nat takes your hand, helping you walk around the corner to her car, where she proceeds to break more then a few traffic laws.

"Who the fuck are you to talk to my sister like that?" Richie demands. The two were going back and forth after Carmen got back to the restaraunt. "Richie, I'm not fucking doing this with you right now." Carmen argues.

Syd walks in, exhaling. "Do either of you check your phones?!" She asks. "I don't know, he's a dumbass." Richie comments as Carmen rolls his eyes.

"Mine's.." Carmen frantically searches his pockets. "It must be in my office. What's the matter?" He asks. Syd frowns. "Y/n went into labor outside, Nat took her to Chicago West. I've been trying to call you to get you there before you miss the birth."

Carmen's already out the door by the time she finishes talking.

────

"If Carmen misses this, I'm going to kill him." Nat comments as she puts a pillow under your back for support. You sigh, laying back. The room is mostly quiet, except for the beeping of equipment. Monitoring your heartrate, your baby's heartrate, your contractions. It feels surreal to watch them increase and decrease with spikes on the monitor.

"He won't miss this. He'll be here." You say, your voice laced with doubt. You knew if Sydney had gotten ahold of Carmen, he'd be speeding to the hospital. Your doctor had been trying to push back your labor as much as she can, but you knew you were about to start pushing soon.

"I really hope you're right. I'm gonna go get you more ice chips." She says, stepping out of the room. You stare at the heartbeat monitors before you hear a small knock on the door. You turn to find Carmen in the doorway. "Hi." He says softly.

You smile. "Hey. Nice of you to drop by." You say, waiting for him to come over to you. When he doesn't immediately, you hold your hand out for him. He practically runs, taking it. "I'm so sorry. For not being here and for what I said. I shouldn't have- you didn't deserve that."

You shake your head. "Carm, you're here now. I'm glad you are. I love your sister but she is not a good birthing coach." She comments as he laughs.

He presses a kiss to your head. "I'm here now." He says. You squeeze his hand lightly. "I know you are, Carmy." Nat smiles as she returns. "Good, you get to live. Here are your ice chips. Best of luck." She wishes, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You smile. "Thanks for being so helpful, Nat."

────

Within the next half hour, your baby boy was in the world. Laying on your chest, his tiny hand wrapped around Carmen's finger. "He's so perfect." Carmen whispers, his voice filled with such fondness.

You two decided on a name: Theodore "Teddy" Berzatto. He was perfect to you two. Your own little boy, your son.

Richie and the rest of the staff came by the hospital. You swooned over your big brother getting to hold your little boy. "He looks just like dad." Richie admits quietly. You nod. "He does. Looks like dad and Mikey." Carmen agrees.

Your son couldn't have been surrounded with more love.

#maeberzatto #mae writes!#mae writes: the bear #mae has mail 💌#carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x fem reader #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Treat You 7

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

When Peter returns, he’s not alone. You stand, feeling gangly as you hunch, as he introduces his friend; Ned. You offer a tense smile and your name. He’s friendly, like Peter, but still a stranger.

“Yo, Pete,” Ned approaches the TV, “why are we not racing for the mushroom cup right now?”

“Ned,” Peter drones.

“He’s a sore loser,” Ned scoffs as he grabs two colourful shapes; one red, another blue. As he nears, he holds one out to you. The buttons on it suggest some sort of controller. “So, how about it, you ready to dethrone the champ?”

“Take it easy on her, Ned,” Peter slides a tray of crackers and cheese between the bowls of chips.

“I’m sure she’s not half as bad as you.”

“Um, I never…” you take the controller and rub your lips together, “I’ve never played… actually.”

“Ah, a noob, no worries then,” Ned plops down on the couch, “we’ll play easy.”

“Oh, uh, okay, I guess, but er…” you look around, “if Peter wants to play–”

“Actually, I need to listen for the door,” Peter counters.

“Right,” you turn back to the TV and sit. You thumb the stick and examine the buttons as the loud music erupts from the speakers.

“So this one you can steer, or you can tilt the controller,” Ned explains, and you press this button to go…”

You try to keep track but you’re not too sure. It seems pretty intuitive. You think.

A new screen comes up and there’s an array of characters to choose from. You choose the princess in the yellow dress over the dinosaur. You wait for the first track to load as your hands sweat around the controller.

The first lap has you veering and crashing but on the second you get a handle of it. It’s not as hard as it seems. Your usual clumsiness doesn’t translate to the digital. You come in fifth. Not as bad as it could be.

As you wait for the second race, voices carry from behind you. You turn as two girls and a guy enter. Ned peeks over, “hey.”

“Hi,” one of the girls chimes back as she approaches, “oh, you must be the one Peter mentioned. I’m Gwen,” she announces, “MJ,” she points over her shoulder, “and Harry.”

“Oh, okay,” you stand again, awkwardly swaying on your long legs, “do you wanna play?”

“We can wait,” she assures, “actually, we’re going to check out the snacks.”

“Right, uh, nice to meet you,” you murmur and sit back down.

Ned asks if you’re ready and you nod. He hits a button and a new race begins. You’re silent as you focus on staying on the road.

“I’m no good at parties either,” he says suddenly, “not that this is much of one. Peter’s not exactly the cool guy.”

“Right, er, it’s… just a lot of strangers.”

“Relax,” Ned says, “I’m gonna get you good. You’re gonna beat them all.”

You laugh, a bit less nervous as he keeps it light, “yeah, I… I’ll try.”

“Pizza,” Peter’s voice punctures the din.

“Finally,” Ned groans but keeps playing, “save me a slice of deluxe.”

The savoury, greasy scent permeates the room almost instantaneously. Your stomach roars but you focus on the screen. You bump another character out of the way as you squint. You’re almost done the last lap.

“Hey,” Ned says, “that was me.”

“Oh, sorry,” you utter as you cross the finish line.

“Woo, first place,” he nudges you lightly, “see, you’re a natural.” He stands as your stomach continues to gurgle, “I’ve trained you well, young padawan.”

“Um,” you furrow your brows.

“Right, not a Star Wars fan, noted,” he smirks, “anyways, I’m starving. How about we feed that dragon in your belly?”

You look down, embarrassed.

“I’m okay,” you say.

“There’s plenty to go around, better get it while it’s hot,” he insists and leaves the controller on the armrest.

You reach over to do the same but stay seated. Your stomach really hurts and your head is starting to pulse. You should eat but you just feel… out of place. Like you shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong and you don’t deserve to share all this nice food.

“Hey, you like cheese,” Peter sits beside you, “got double.”

He holds two plates, hovering one before you.

“Oh, you didn’t have to…”

“You can always switch up if you want pepperoni,” he holds the plate before your nose. You salivate. You can’t hold out any longer.

“Thanks,” you accept the plate, nearly shaking as dizziness swirls in your head.

“No problem,” he sets his plate in his lap and lifts the first slice.

You mirror him and take a small bite of the end. You chew slowly, trying not to betray how your stomach clenches violently. You could devour the slice in a single bite but you don’t want them to judge you. You continue with measured nibbles.

“If you don’t like pizza…”

“No, I do,” you assure him. “Thanks, it’s really good.”

“Well, next time, I’ll make sure to get your fave toppings. You like mushrooms? Oh, don’t tell me you’re an anchovies girl.”

“Oh, no, I haven’t… had that,” you shake your head as you pick at the crust.

“Or maybe you’re more into hamburgers? Oh, how about pasta? Sushi?”

“No, no, I like pizza,” you assure him.

“Well, you can help yourself, there’ll be lots of leftovers, I’m sure,” he stands up, his plate empty as you break the crust of your first in half, “you need more water?”

“No thanks,” you focus on your plate.

“Be right back,” he promises and shuffles away.

“So,” the girl named MJ comes around, chewing while she talks. You look up at her and put the crust down. “You and Peter, how long have you been together?”

“Pardon? Together? Oh, I only just met him a few weeks ago–”

“You two must be getting serious,” she says, “you’re a cute couple.”

“What?” Your heart hammers. “No, I–”

“You know,” Gwen approaches, “just like Peter to spring a girlfriend on us without warning.”

Your mouth opens and you blink dumbly. They think you and Peter are together?

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you say.

“Oh, ha, sorry, no labels,” MJ winks, “it’s only what he told us.”

“He said that?”

“To be honest, when we saw you, we didn’t believe him,” Gwen snickers.

You swallow and stand up. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say a word. You take your plate to the table and put it down. You grab a paper towel from the roll and wipe your fingers off as you head for the stairs. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life.

They couldn’t believe Peter would be with someone like you. They’re right to doubt that but it still stings. Just as always, you’re not good enough.

#peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #peter parker x reader #drabble #au #the club #series #mcu #marvel #spider-man #avengers #treat you

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