#((anyways as some of you might have noticed i closed the ask box again))
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𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 + 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒
warning: just fluff, reader is shorter than jeno and jisung, sorry yall im a short girlie it's my default <//3, hyuck's is a little suggestive
mark ; he makes time for you. he's such a busy guy, but whenever he has downtime, he's immediately inviting you over to the dorms or going to your apartment so he can just be with you, whether it's just cuddling or playing video games together or going out and doing something, he always makes time to be with you, no matter what. and he always leaves some of his clothing at your place so you won't miss him too much when he's gone.
"woah," he mumbles to himself, stopping in the doorway to his room when he sees you all curled up under his blankets in his bed, your face shielded from him by his clothes, blankets, and your own hair. he has to take a moment to take you in, mind racing at the fact that you're his, before he walks over, taking of his shoes and jacket, slipping into the bed beside you and wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling you into him, whispering "i love you so much" into your hair, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.
renjun ; he notices the little things. even when you think he doesn't, even when he acts like he doesn't - he does. he's the type to see you something you mentioned you liked out in public and buy it for you, shrugging his shoulders casually when you start gushing over him and the gist. he's the type to overhear you talking on the phone to your friends about how much you like physical touch, so he starts touching you more; holding your hand, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you into his lap.
"saw this at the store, thought you might like it." he tells you nonchalantly, handing you a little bag with a box of cookies inside, smiling to himself when you get all excited, running towards him to wrap you arms around his neck and press little kisses to his jaw. "they're you're favorite, right?" he asks, resting his hands on your waist, keeping you close, squeezing your hips imperceptibly as you snuggle into his chest.
jeno ; he's protective. he just finds so much comfort in knowing that you're safe and protected and that he's the one that makes you feel safe and protected. he's the type to keep your hand firmly trapped in his whenever you go out, to make sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, to keep his hand on the small of your back, just in case. he likes the feeling of knowing your safe.
"hold on," he leans down to whisper in your ear, grabbing your hand and pulling you to his other side as a car passed on the street beside you. he let go of your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you close to his side, squeezing the skin of your arm every now and again to reaffirm himself that you were still there, that you were safe.
donghyuck ; before you started dating, hyuck was always such a shithead, always poking fun, teasing, pushing you to your limits, just so he can laugh at you when you get all flustered and upset. and he only does it because he can't do what he really wants to, which is kiss you until you can't stand up, so when you finally get together, he just gets so direct. if he wants something from you, he's determined to get it anyway he can to make up for all the lost time.
"you sure you have to go?" he asks, body hovering over yours, propping himself up on his elbows beside your head. and he just sighs heavily when you nod, looking down at you with his big, brown eyes for a moment before leaning down a pressing little kisses to your cheeks, the corners of your mouth, your lips, pushing against yours passionate and bruising, one hand moving down to lace with yours. and he loves how dazed you look when he pulls away, chasing after his lips as he leans back, pushing onto his side so you can get up. "alright, baby, i'll see you later." and all he can do is give you a sickeningly smug look when you roll on top of him, pressing your lips back to his.
jaemin ; he's so unbelievably, greasily soft with you. he's always looking at you with a lovesick look in his eyes, a soft smile taking over his features, and when you ask him what he's looking at, he just blinks slowly and grins up at you from where he's sitting, muttering a soft, "just you, baby." and if it was anyone else, it'd be enough to make you sick, but there's something about how genuine he is.
"c'mere, honey." he mumbles, grabbing your wrist as you walk by him and pulling you down into his lap, his hands immediately finding purchase wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. "look so pretty today, y'know that?" he'd ask, grinning when your face darkens in embarrassment. "pretty thing. love you." and he'd lift your hand to his lips, brushing his lips across your knuckles before he lets you get up.
chenle ; he's gentle with you. he's known for being sassy and teasing with his friends, but he's so different with you. he's so much more soft; his hands hovering over you at all times, touch unassuming but present, his words kind and gentle, always checking in on you, telling you how pretty he thinks you are, how smart you are - constantly showering you in compliments so you never have the time to feel self-conscious.
"you're so gorgeous." he tells you, looking up at you from where he was resting his head on your lap. reaching a hand up, he cups your cheek, making sure you look at him, despite your embarrassment at his blunt comments. "your little freckles, the lines around your eyes, the way your hair frames your face, it's all so gorgeous." he says, looking at you like you're something divine, his thumb brushing over the crest of your cheekbone, before he gets up, pushing you down to lay on your back on the couch, positioning himself over you, leaning down to press a searing kiss to your lips.
jisung ; he gets clingy. or, at least, clingier than usual. he's a guy that, generally, enjoys his own space. he likes having that distance between himself and others; he's not exactly sure why, it's just always been that why. but it's different with you. he feels like he can never be close enough. he likes holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist or shoulders, having you sit in his lap, laying on top of you when he gets home from a long schedule; he just needs to be near you at all times.
"hey, honey." he mutters, collapsing beside you on your bed, laying on his back and closing his eyes, nodding slowly when you ask if he's had a long day. "the longest." he replies, peaking at you from the corner of his eyes, before rolling over on top of you, nuzzling his face into your neck, pressing little kisses to the skin there. "i love you." he mutters into your neck, his breath hot, his voice low.
#nct#nct dream#nct reactions#nct dream reactions#nct imagines#nct dream imagines#nct headcanons#nct dream headcanons#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#mark lee#zhong chenle#lee jeno#park jisung#huang renjun#na jaemin#lee donghyuck#haechan
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a fish with a bowtie
a simon "ghost" riley x reader blurb
part two here!
no shock that i have fallen for yet another tall, muscular masked man. nothing new here! 😭
warnings/author's note: it feels so good to actually be able to write again omg. i included a very poorly drawn floor plan of the house in my head so you can visualize it better- nothing worse than not being able to see a story in your head! just some language and unreasonable amounts of fluff. your call sign is sparrow. simon being simon. gif not mine
word cound: 2100
"If any of you get boot prints on my tile, I swear to God…" you threaten weakly, kicking your shoes off at the door. The team knew better than to argue. You had saved their asses back at the warehouse breach–and unfortunately, you also took the brunt of the damage. Your head was throbbing, and your legs threatened to give out at any moment beneath you. The team had been successful with your help, but the attack was loud. They figured they'd lie low for a couple of days and let the smoke clear, but they needed a safe house. You debated it for a second before reluctantly telling the boys that you knew a place.
Unluckily for you, that place was your house.
The team silently marveled at your home. It seemed to be a perfect reflection of you but also not at the same time. For someone that claimed to be no frills, your couch sure did look fancy. But your collection of vinyls matched up with all the music recommendations you'd give them between missions. Soap geeked out over the movie posters you had framed around the living room, and Price squinted at your coffee table decor. He never took you for a candle person.
"Is that an original Back to the Future poster?" Soap asked in awe.
"Mhm…" you mumble distantly, racking the fridge for food. You zone out on the bright lights of the fridge for a second before letting out a grim chuckle. Of course there was no food. You were barely ever in this house– if you kept food in the fridge, it would all go rotten. Seriously, how fucked up was your brain right now?
You decided to search for the pantry next. It was mostly empty, save for a few spices and boxes of tea here or there. Your eyes searched the shelves until you found what you were looking for: exactly five bowls of nearly expired Hot-and-Spicy ramen soup, which was just enough for you, Soap, Price, Gav, and Ghost. You thanked whatever higher power might exist out there as you stacked the bowls on top of each other, carrying them close to your chest to avoid dropping them.
"I have the finest delicacy here for you, boys," you say humorously. "Three Michelin stars,” you continue, earning a laugh from Soap and Gaz. You set the bowls down on the kitchen island, keeping one for yourself. You tear open the lid and untwist a water bottle cap, pouring the water up to the ridged line inside the bowl. After you poured the tiny packet of dehydrated vegetables and chicken, you stick it into the microwave and lean cross-armed on the kitchen island, waiting for the three minutes to pass. The rest dutifully follow your lead, taking turns with the microwave built into your kitchen and the other one that was plugged in on the counter.
"Dinner" was eaten in relative silence. Not that anyone could hear anything anyways (you really needed to tell Soap to go easy on the frags before you all went deaf). You were too busy eating your soup to notice the team sneaking glances at each other and then at you, Ghost most of all.
After you all ate, you pointed everyone to their rooms. Soap went straight away, which is how you could tell he was really exhausted. Price and Gaz sat on the couch debriefing for a while before they headed to bed, too. Only you and Ghost were left. You were lying on the couch, half-tuned in to some old-time game show on the TV. Ghost sat on the loveseat to the right of you, polishing his gun and sneaking occasional glances at the TV—and at you.
“Shit,” you exclaimed suddenly. Ghost halted his movements, watching as you got up to a sitting position, closing your eyes.
“What is it?” he asked you quietly, finger moving instinctively to the trigger.
“No, I’m fine. I just… I just remembered I have to wash my hair. It’ll be a fucking miracle if I don’t collapse in the shower,” you sighed. “It’s a whole process, and it’s gonna take forever, and it’s already late… I’d better start now,” you finish, rubbing your eyes.
Ghost sat for a moment, contemplating what you said.
“I’ll do it for you.”
“What?”
“I mean—only if you want. I could. Over the sink or... something.” It’s the first time you ever heard Ghost sound unsure of himself, and it completely threw you off.
“Are you... sure?” you ask, staring at him.
“Positive,” he replied, staring back.
“Okay… I’ll be right back,” you say, moving towards the stairs. Once you were in your bathroom, you grabbed everything you would need: a towel, shampoo, conditioner, and your beloved shampoo brush.
When you got back downstairs, you found Ghost ungloved and running water in the sink, absentmindedly touching his fingers to the stream of water as his eyes were fixed on the TV. It occurred to you that he was making sure the temperature of the water would be okay for you. You weren’t entirely sure why your stomach got light at the sight of it, but you stubbornly decided to ignore it.
“You ready?” he asked, eyeing all the stuff you were carrying.
“Mhm,” you say, setting everything down on the counter. “I’ll just lie like this over the sink to make it easier for you,” you tell him, lying down and pulling your knees up on the unusually long kitchen island. The size of the island had been something that drew you to the house when you were house shopping, even though you weren’t home enough to cook on it.
“Is that a torture device?” Ghost said, jutting his chin at the shampoo brush sitting on the counter as he got your hair wet.
You laugh for the first time all day when your eyes land on what he’s gesturing at. “Far from it. You kinda just use it to get the shampoo into my scalp. Probably my favorite invention.”
“Your favourite invention?” Ghost repeated to you.
“Yeah. What’s yours?” you ask him.
He’s silent for a minute as he squeezes the shampoo onto your hair and works it into a lather.
“Electric kettle,” he responds finally.
“You Brits and your tea,” you say fondly, laughing to yourself. Ghost let out a sound, and it took you a second before you realized he chuckled. He laughed. You had never heard him laugh before. You decided you liked the sound.
“What’s your favorite kind of tea, Ghost?” you ask, closing your eyes. He had started using the shampoo brush, and it felt like heaven. You could feel the grime and dried blood dislodging from your scalp; you didn’t even want to see what the sink looked like right now.
“Black tea, maybe earl gray. But I’m not picky,” he shrugged. His eyes narrowed at the nape of your neck where he saw a thin line of blood.
“You have an interesting cut back here, Sparrow.” He started rinsing out the shampoo as he carefully moved your hair aside to examine it further.
“Well, shit,” you say, sighing louder than necessary. “How bad is it? Is it stitch-worthy? Am I gonna make it?” you ask sarcastically.
“No stitches. You’ll live. Unfortunately,” Ghost deadpans. You roll your eyes at him just as you notice his hands aren’t in your hair anymore. You turn your head to see him squinting at the conditioner bottle.
“The hell is this for?” he asked.
“The conditioner?” you replied incredulously.
“I know what it is, it’s just—why is it separate?”
You squint your eyes in thought, trying to understand what he meant when it suddenly clicked.
“Simon…” you say, a wicked grin spreading on your face as you move up to a sitting position, carful not to drip water everywhere. His eyes shot down to look at you. That got his attention. You almost never called him by his actual name. “Please don’t tell me you use it.”
“Use what?” Ghost pressed, getting mildly annoyed. Oh, how he wanted to wipe that stupidly adorable annoying smile off your face. He hated not being in on a joke, even if he rarely showed it.
“On today’s true crime episode,” you say, grabbing the conditioner bottle out of his hands to use as a makeshift microphone. He crosses his arms at your antics, seeming oblivious to the fact that he was getting water and eucalyptus-scented suds all over the arms of his uniform.
“We’re looking at one of the most prolific criminals out there, Lieutenant Ghost. It’s terrifying, it’s horrifying, it's downright disturbing. What are his crimes ,you ask? Using two-in-one… shampoo and conditioner,” you finish, lowering your voice for dramatic effect.
“Fucking hell,” Ghost rasps, voice tinged with exasperation. “Am I not supposed to?”
“No!” you whisper-shout, mindful of your sleeping teammates. “Shampoo strips all the oils from your hair and conditioner puts moisture back in! How could one product do that simultaneously? I mean, seriously, Ghost,” you say, squeezing a generous amount into the palm of your hand before smoothing it over your strands. “It’s common sense.”
“It’s not common sense. Tedious and unnecessary is what it is,” he replies gruffly, watching you put the conditioner on. “So what, you just–put it on, and… leave it there?”
“Yeah… I usually leave it in for 15 minutes while I do other stuff but I’ll just let it sit for a couple minutes since I’m-” you pause, yawning. “Tired.”
“Do you want me to wash it out for you?” he asks, his voice going unusually soft.
“Yes, please,” you responded, lying back down so your hair was over the edge of the sink again.
His fingers thread through your hair, ridding it of the last traces of conditioner. You force your eyes closed, trying not to think about the fact that Ghost’s face was mere inches away from yours. You felt something cold brush by your face, and your eyes shoot open to see the gleam of his dog tags dangling over you.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, tucking them back into his uniform like it was nothing.
Like it didn’t just get your heart caught in your throat.
You can feel his hands wringing out the water in your hair, strong enough to get your hair dry but not strong enough to hurt you. In a final act of pure kindness, he takes the towel sprawled out on the counter and throws it over your head.
“Done,” he says nonchalantly, ignoring your muffled protests from under the towel. When you finally get the towel off and tie it around your hair, you see him standing by the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall and watching you intently. Suddenly shy, you pull a stray blanket off of one of the chairs at the island and wrap yourself in it as makeshift armor from his icy gaze.
“You going to bed?” he asks as you walk up. You spin on your heel to look back down at where he’s still standing, arms crossed.
“No. I was actually just about to go for a six mile run,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes. “You should go to sleep too, Ghost. I could see your beady little eyes fighting to stay open at the dinner table.”
“My eyes are not beady.”
“Whatever. I’m going to bed. You can stay up until my neighbor's rooster Fish starts crowing if you like,” you say, fighting off another yawn.
“Your neighbor has a rooster named Fish?” he asks, amusement tinting his voice as he starts up the steps after you.
“Mr. Stricker is a strange man,” you reply. You’re met with a few seconds of silence as Ghost catches up to you.
“What do you call a fish wearing a bow tie?” he questions.
“Oh God.”
“Sofishticated,” he continues, not missing a beat. You were not expecting the laugh that erupts from your lips, and you clamp a hand over your mouth, wary of the rest of the team sleeping right above you.
“That was so not funny,” you say, clearing your throat in a poor attempt to cover up your smile.
“Mhm. And yet you laughed,” Ghost replied. Even in the dim light, you can spot the glint in his eyes. You’d like to think that under his mask, he was smiling too.
He fell into step with you now, his hands brushing against yours as you two made it up the rest of the stairs. There was plenty of room for both of you to walk without touching each other, but you didn’t pull your hand away.
Neither did he.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley fanfic#mw2#modern warfare 2#ghost x reader#onestopfanficshop
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Okay following Honeymoon, I have some questions...
When do we find out?
How do we find out?
Is Eddie with us when we do? If not, how do we tell him?
How to we tell everyone else?!?
All your questions shall be answered! @munson-blurbs and I had a great time exploring this happy time in this little family’s life 💜
Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of Eddie’s breeding kink, age gap, older!eddie
Words: 4k
[As You Wish masterlist]
The day after you and Eddie returned home from your honeymoon, Ryan and Luke begged to stay home from school. At dinner last night you had told them all about it—well, the appropriate parts anyway. Now, their excuse was that they missed you both and wanted to spend the day with you.
“How about this,” Eddie said as a counteroffer, “you go to school for two days, then you can spend the next two days after that with us.”
“But…today’s Thursday. We only have two more days of school this week anyway,” Luke had said.
“Well, look at that. Sounds like it was meant to be.”
The boys huffed for a bit but then they started to notice the two of you acting a little off. You’re making sure their lunches are packed before they’ve even finished breakfast. Eddie practically has their outfits picked out for them and tells them to get changed before they’ve even swallowed the last of their oatmeal. He also shoves a glass of water into your hand and gives you a look that neither kid understands.
“Is this what they’re gonna be like now that they’re married?” Luke mumbles to Ryan as they’re zipping their coats up. Ryan just shrugs and rolls his eyes before grabbing his backpack.
“Have a good day at school!” you call from the front door as the boys walk towards their bus stop on the street corner.
“We love you!” Eddie adds. Ryan gives a half-hearted wave in return.
As soon as the boys are set at the bus stop, talking with their friends from the neighborhood, you close the front door and you and Eddie practically race each other to the bathroom.
“Okay, so I bought seven tests,” Eddie says as he fishes out the bag from the pharmacy that was stored underneath the sink.
“Jesus, Eddie,” you say with a chuckle. “How much do you think I can pee?”
Eddie shrugs and starts to open the first pregnancy test. “I bought seven. Ya know, like the number of kids I want to have. Ow! Don’t hit me, that was a joke!” He sets the first test down on the counter and picks up a second box. “Technically, you’d only need to have five.” Eddie smirks and raises an eyebrow as he turns around to look at you. The glare you’re giving him tells him that you’re not impressed. “Don’t find that funny, babe? Huh, maybe you are pregnant, and the hormones are already raging. Before you hit me again, that was another joke!”
You grab the two tests Eddie’s already taken out of their boxes and head over to the toilet. Your husband is just casually leaning against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Are you really going to watch me pee?” you ask. It’s not like you’ve never peed while he was in the same bathroom before. But now he’s just staring at you as you push your pajama pants down and it’s making you bladder shy.
“I need to know if I’ve knocked you up or if I have to try again before I leave for work,” Eddie says.
“I don’t need supervision, y’know.” You make a shooing motion with your hands and Eddie gives an overdramatic roll of his eyes before stepping out into the hall.
You take a deep breath, then another, before unwrapping the tests from their foil packages. You could be carrying Eddie Munson’s baby right now, you think, and your hand trembles with excitement and trepidation. This is what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw Eddie interacting with his boys, sweet and patient and silly. And now, you might be having his baby.
No sooner do you place the used tests on the sink and flush the toilet does Eddie barge into the bathroom. He’s wide-eyed, gaze immediately shifting to the white sticks.
“Are you pregnant?” He asks, unable to read your facial expression. “Shit, you’re not, are you? It’s okay, we can keep at it—”
“Eddie,” you interrupt with a wry smile, “it takes ten minutes to get a result.”
“Well, how long has it been?”
You glance at the watch on your wrist and set the alarm, letting out a terse laugh. “About thirty seconds.”
Your hands are still shaking as you wash them. You hear the water running, and you can feel it on your skin, but you’re almost numb to it. Trying to play it off, you remain on autopilot as you dry your hands with a towel, but when you bring your thumbnail between your teeth and start to bite, your husband picks up on it.
“What’s wrong?” Worry creases his brows, and he takes your free hand and laces his fingers with yours.
“I…we just got married, Eds. And now we might be having a baby? It’s a lot, and I’m kinda scared…”
Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, cupping your cheek with his calloused palm. “We just moved into a new house, so we have the room. Money won’t be too much of an issue—especially with all the checks we got as wedding presents.” When you still appear unconvinced, he changes his tactic to appeal to your emotional side.
“I know it’s a lot at once. But I know you want a baby, too. How many nights have we stayed up talking about it?” There have been too many, spent with Eddie brushing his fingers over your stomach and talking about how he can’t wait until the most beautiful woman is having his beautiful baby. Not to mention the countless times he’s been deep within you, begging you to let him get you pregnant. “And you’re not in it by yourself. You happen to be married to a man who’s raised two pretty great kids, who—believe it or not, were babies at one point. And you know they’ll want to be our little helpers. Everything is going to be fine, sweetheart. No matter what the test says.”
He wraps you in his arms and you both slide down and sit on the bathroom floor together and cuddle up. You rest your head on Eddie’s shoulder, and he puts a hand on your knee.
“Y’know,” he says, “the boys are going to lose their minds if you are pregnant. They haven’t stopped talking about when they’re going to get a new sibling.”
You smile. “Think they’ll help change diapers?”
“Maybe Ryan. You’d have a better chance of getting Luke to eat Brussels sprouts.” Eddie chuckles, placing his hand on your stomach. “I can’t believe we might’ve made a little souvenir on our honeymoon.”
“I don’t think I’d have symptoms that early if we made a souvenir,” you point out with a giggle. “This was definitely more like a pre-wedding gift.”
“Huh. So, Maybe-Baby Munson was technically at our wedding with us.”
“If I’m pregnant, then, yeah. Most likely.” Your fatigue could be jet lag, your missed period could be from wedding stress, your nausea could be from Eddie’s cooking attempts, but all three of them together? Could it all be a coincidence?
The two of you are so caught up in each other and the conversations you’re having that you don’t even realize how much time has passed. The shrill ring of the alarm you set startles you, and you jump in your husband’s grip. You manage to push yourself up from the floor on shaky legs, and Eddie stands up beside you.
“I…” you trail off, wringing your hands nervously, “I can’t look.”
“Well, I can,” Eddie says, to the surprise of neither of you. He steps towards the counter while you take a step in the opposite direction, closer to the shower.
Eddie picks up the first pregnancy test and beams down at the little white stick. He picks up the next one just to be sure, and the confirmation of the first positive has his impossibly wide grin getting larger. The excitement has Eddie’s heart pumping so loud in his chest he’d be surprised if you didn’t hear it. His hands shake as he slowly sets the tests back down, as if they're precious cargo.
He turns to see you not even facing him. You’re staring at the shower wall, hands still nervously fidgeting in front of you. Taking the few steps to close the distance, Eddie slides his arms around your middle and rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Hey, Mommy.”
Those two words have broken any semblance of composure you had. The tears are instantaneous, hot and thick as they roll down your cheeks.
“I wanna see,” you say, slipping out of Eddie’s arms to look at the positive pregnancy tests yourself. The two pink lines on each of them staring back at you feel surreal. As if this is just some joke and someone scribbled on them with a pink marker. “Holy shit, I’m going to be a mom.”
You turn to Eddie and practically leap into his arms. He catches you with a chuckle and squeezes you just as tightly as you’re squeezing him. A few moments pass like that—both of you just holding one another as you take this new information in. You know it’s not going to sink in for a while; how could it? This was something you’d never thought would happen in your wildest dreams. The man you used to wait to see just for a few minutes a day between him coming home after work and you leaving for your apartment is now the father of your baby. It makes you dizzy with excitement.
Eventually, you both release the other from your crushing grips. Eddie cups your jaw with his large hands and presses a soft and sweet kiss on your lips. It conveys all the love and happiness that is swimming throughout his body. His hands slide down from your jaw, down your chest and stomach, coming to a stop on your lower abdomen.
“Can’t believe our baby’s right there,” Eddie muses, gently pressing his palm against your stomach. There are a few moments where both of your hands explore the area of the body that will be growing the most over your pregnancy. Eventually, Eddie tugs you in closer to him so your chests are pressed together. He dips his head and captures your lips with his own.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby daddy.”
Keeping your pregnancy under wraps until the second trimester was easier said than done, especially around the boys. Your morning sickness was enough to draw suspicion, and while Luke was satisfied with the reassurance that you hadn’t contracted scurvy, Ryan wasn’t as easily swayed. You’d been tempted to let him in on the secret just to ease his worries, but your own anxieties about first trimester complications took over.
Now a few days into your twelfth week of pregnancy—with a prenatal scan under your belt—you’re ready to share the news.
“Luke! Ryan! Come to the living room for a sec!”
The boys nervously trudge onto the carpet. Ryan’s twiddling his thumbs, and before you can reassure them that they’re not in trouble, he blurts out, “It was Luke’s idea to flush the remote down the toilet!”
Luke gasps, blindsided by his brother’s betrayal. “You said it could be a science ‘speriment!”
“Boys…” you start, already feeling a headache brewing behind your eyes.
“Hang on, babe, I wanna hear this,” Eddie interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches his sons implicate themselves.
“And then Ryan told me that if I ate apple seeds, a tree would grow in my tummy, and I got scared and that’s why I keep hiding the seeds under my bed,” Luke hurries to explain, cheeks turning pink as he says it all in a single breath.
Eddie clicks his tongue. “Well, that explains the mystery smell.”
You try to refocus their attention, clearing your throat and sitting up straighter. “Boys…you know how I haven’t been feeling well lately?” You wait for them to nod before continuing. “Why do you think that is?”
“Daddy’s bad at cooking?” Luke ventures, earning a head shake from his dad and a stifled laugh from you. “It is scurvy, isn’t it? I knew it!”
“No one has scurvy! If I hear that word one more time, I’m banning all pirate movies from this house,” Eddie exclaims, obviously eager to reveal the news.
You put a hand on his knee to silence him. “And I know you’ve noticed I’ve been a little more emotional too.”
“Like when you cried when I made a sandwich the other day?” Ryan asks. Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the way you’d been overwhelmed with sadness at the thought of him growing up and independently making lunch.
You don’t want to start bawling again, so you wordlessly hand over the panel of ultrasound photos.
“What’s this?” Luke’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. He points to your name in the top left corner. “Did you take this? It looks like a weird bean.”
Ryan scoffs at his little brother. “No, it’s one of those pictures that people get when they’re having a baby. Wait…” The oldest Munson son looks up from the paper clutched in his grip to the two of you on the couch in front of him. His wide-eyed expression has you giggling and a warm tingling sensation bubbles up in Eddie’s chest.
Luke is still confused, however. He keeps staring at the black and white image as if he’s trying to find Waldo.
“Whose baby is it?” he asks.
“Mine and your dad’s, silly goose!” You lean forward and lightly dig your fingers just above the little boy’s hip—his most ticklish spot.
“You guys ready for another brother or sister?” Eddie asks.
His father’s words have Ryan breaking out of his trance. He launches forward and wraps one arm around your neck and one around Eddie’s. Both of you can sense that he’s too emotional to speak, so Eddie just pats his back while you rest your head against his.
“Yeah!” Luke answers Eddie’s question. “I’m gonna bring them to my basketball game on Friday!”
“Um,” you say with a chuckle as Ryan maneuvers himself to sit on the arm of the couch next to Eddie. “The baby’s gonna need a little more time than that, sweetie.”
Luke shrugs as if this is only a minor inconvenience. “‘S’okay. I have another game next week.”
“When is the baby gonna be here?” Ryan asks, dimples out and on display as a sign of his excitement. He still has the ultrasound photos in his hand and keeps sneaking peeks at them.
“The doctor said I’m due October 7th,” you tell them as you rest one hand against your belly. There’s hardly a bump yet, but the instinct has been strong to protect the baby in you. It was a conscious effort to not draw any attention to your midsection by holding it in front of the boys—though you doubt they would’ve noticed anyway.
“Aw, man!” Luke pouts, dramatically flopping down onto the living room carpet. “That’s forever.”
“Don’t worry, bud,” Eddie says as he slips an arm around you. “We have lots to do to get ready for a new baby.”
“Yeah,” you agree, snuggling into your husband’s side. “You have to learn how to change a diaper!”
That has Luke pushing himself off of the floor and heading for the kitchen. “Nope, I’m out.”
“Okay,” you say to the boys as the sound of Wayne’s dilapidated truck chugs into your driveway. “Grandpa’s here.”
“Remember,” Eddie says, ducking in towards them and lowering his voice as if Wayne would be able to hear him from outside, “we’re gonna act nonchalant.”
Ryan frowns, looking up from where he was smoothing down his blue t-shirt that has the words BIG BRO emblazoned on it in bold black letters.
“We’re gonna act no-chocolate? What?”
Eddie shakes his head, fighting back a smile. “Just means we’re gonna act cool, okay? Calm. Natural, like this is just another Sunday he’s coming over to have dinner.
“And not like we have the most awesome secret to tell him!” Luke projects his voice around the small kitchen and both you and Ryan shush him. The youngest Munson—as of now—pinches up his face and sticks his tongue out before looking down at his own t-shirt. It’s green and has MIDDLE BRO splayed across the front of it.
There’s a knock on the front door and Eddie goes to answer it. Ryan is bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He’s constantly had to stop himself from telling every single person he talks to about the baby. It warms your heart to see the pure joy this is giving him, though.
The groaning of the front door opening and the thud of it closing again lets you know Wayne’s inside the house. Two heavy treads make their way into the living room, and you hear Wayne release a content sigh as he takes a seat.
“Where my boys at?” Wayne asks.
In the kitchen, you give both of your sons a thumbs up before nodding your head in the direction of the living room. Excitement—and hormones—well up in you as you watch the boys leave the kitchen. You trail behind them, eager to see Wayne’s reaction to the news.
“Grandpa!” Ryan crashes against him on the couch and inhales the familiar scents of menthol cigarettes and oil stains as he buries his face in his neck.
“How’s my Ry?” Wayne asks, hugging his grandson with one arm and ruffling his honey brown hair with the other.
“Hey Grandpa!” Luke calls. “What do you think of my shirt?”
Eddie groans and drops his head into his hands. He has to remember to have a conversation with Luke about what “nonchalant” means. Stepping over to your husband, you pat his shoulder while you fight a smirk on your face.
It doesn’t seem to click with Wayne right away, though. He sits back on the couch and his brows furrow together in confusion.
“Middle?” he says, wagging his finger in front of Luke’s shirt. “But you don’t have a…” Wayne drops his hand back down to his lap, mouth hanging open. His eyes go from Luke’s t-shirt to Ryan’s, seeing if his clothes are sending the same message. When his suspicions seem to be confirmed at what he sees there, Wayne’s eyes roam over to where you and Eddie are. His eyes are misted over, and it takes everything in you not to let the hormones breach the floodgate.
“Is there gonna be another Munson to chase after?” Wayne asks, the emotion causing his voice to waver.
Both you and Eddie nod in confirmation, matching grins on your faces. But neither of you gets a chance to speak before Luke pipes in.
“Yeah, but not ‘til October. And that’s so far away!” Luke throws his arms in the air to show his exasperation.
Wayne stands up from the couch and immediately envelops Eddie in a giant bear hug. “I am over the moon for the two of ya,” Wayne says, opening his arms to you. “Congratulations.” Luke tugs on Eddie’s arm as Wayne wraps you up in his warm and fatherly embrace.
“Is that gonna hurt the baby?” Luke asks, eyeing the show of affection with hesitancy. Eddie swears he could melt right here and now at the concerned look on his youngest son’s face—concern for you and your new baby.
Eddie has to clear the emotion out of his throat before he speaks. “Nah, bud. Baby’s nice and protected in there, don’t worry.”
“Yeah,” Ryan seconds as he steps up beside his dad and brother. “You just have to be careful once they’re born. Don’t wanna drop them on their head like Dad did to you.”
“Ryan,” Eddie starts, but needs a moment to reign in the laughter that wants to come exploding out. “That’s not funny and it’s not true!”
Wayne huffs a small laugh and speaks softly so only you can hear.
“You know, Eddie was dropped when he was a baby…”
You stifle a laugh as you look over at your husband. He’s jumping around the middle of the living room with the boys, the three of them fighting like they’re ninjas.
“That explains a lot.”
The last group of people you’ve been waiting to tell is the Harrington family.
Your shirt is a bit oversized; there’s no evidence of a bump just yet, but you’re still paranoid about showing.
Danny, Theo, and Natalie burst into the room, excited that Ryan and Luke are there to play with. Steve shushes them softly.
“Amelia is asleep,” he reminds them.
“Pretty sure she’ll sense that I’ve come over and awaken from her slumber,” Eddie jokes, causing Steve to roll his eyes.
“Yeah, Munson, she almost wet herself in excitement when we told her you were coming by.”
“Really?” Eddie asks.
“No.”
“I don’t like your attitude, Harrington. Think I’ll just head down the hall and wake up my favorite four-year-old.”
“I will tackle you before you reach the bathroom,” Steve threatens.
Natalie rolls her eyes—looking identical to her father as she does so—and puts her hands on her hips.
“Boys,” she complains.
The Harrington kids drag Luke, Ryan, and Eddie into the playroom to show them their new video game. Steve dutifully follows, claiming that he’ll supervise gameplay, but you and Nancy both know that the day will end with the grown men battling it out over Mario Kart.
“You’re pregnant!” Nancy excitedly whispers as soon as the two of you are alone. It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and it catches you off-guard.
“What?” You’re not sure whether you should play dumb or not—the reason for this playdate was to tell them the news. “How did…how do you know that?”
She shrugs. “I’ve gone through this four times. I have a sixth sense for it now.” She’s beaming from ear to ear as her reporter instincts kick in and she begins launching questions your way:
“How far along are you?”
“Any morning sickness?”
“What other symptoms are you having?”
You answer them one by one, excitement pulsing through you with each reply. There’s beauty in being able to enjoy this journey with others, especially someone who’s been through it before.
You take a deep breath, finally relaxed now that the nervous energy has dissipated. “Okay,” you smile, “now we can tell Steve.”
“Munson told me before the pee stick could dry,” Steve calls out from the other room. There’s a whine from Danny, to which Steve responds, “no, it’s my turn to be Bowser!”
Nancy can sense your flusteredness, and she puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she says with a laugh, “Steve called Eddie first with each of my pregnancies. He probably knew before I did.”
You giggle at the thought of Steve tripping over his feet to let Eddie know about a new baby before even celebrating with his wife. “I’m so glad I’m not dealing with the two of them on my own.”
“Us mamas have to stick together.” She reaches into the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water. “First tip: no matter how much water you’re drinking, it’s never enough. Gotta stay hydrated.”
“You and Max might be my lifelines for motherly advice,” you admit, cracking open the cap and taking a swig. Nancy, of course, is right; you hadn’t realized how thirsty you were until you started drinking it.
“You already have plenty of experience.” She gestures to the room where the kids are. “They adore you, and your baby will, too.”
“You think so?”
“Call it mother’s intuition, but I know it.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#AYW#AYWS
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[slides into your ask box like a very suave ninja]
i see you doing thoughts on mating seasons [eye emojis] how about... Bay Leo in mating season?<3
hmmm... a very suave ninja you say? is he wearing blue perhaps?
i... might have a few ideas for bay leo's mating season. maybe a couple of thoughts. some headcanons, you might say
as always, yadda yadda, lil sexy, spice emoji 🌶️
The thing about Leo is, he is not used to doing things for himself. Everything he does, every skill he learns, is for his family, for his city. For you. Even the things he enjoys doing, he does because he knows they are an outlet that will help him control himself. It’s… something he is working on. So when he is unusually shy while asking you to share his mating season with him, you know that he is asking for himself. That in itself is everything.
He stutters a bit as he walks you through what to expect during his time. It’s adorable. To him, though, this is the most intimate thing he could ask of you. Mating season is when he struggles the most with the loss of his iron control, when he’s at his most vulnerable. Asking you to share this time with him is the strongest way he knows to tell you that he loves you. He’s nervous, okay, don’t tease him!
Leo’s season comes on slowly, so gradually it’s barely noticeable. You find it in the little details. The way he scents you for longer than normal when he hugs you hello, beak nuzzling into your hair. The way he stands closer to you, especially when his brothers approach. The way his hand slides lower on your back as he escorts you to the lair exit. It gives you more time to prepare, something he is very grateful for.
The other thing about Leo is, once he decides something is his, it’s his. Man is incredibly possessive. This manifests in a unique way during his season. He makes you a nest. It is very soft and cozy and you are not allowed to leave it unless you need to use the facilities. For the entire duration of his season. There’s no need for you to brave the outer world and all the people out there. That’s what he’s for. (He got into an argument with Raph about this once. Once. Raph never brings it up again.)
At the beginning of his season Leo is very sensual in his lovemaking. He is all slow, smooth thrusts as he holds you close and buries his head in your neck. He can spend hours just making out with you while you finger each other. It gets a little more intense each time. As Leo realizes that you’re enjoying yourself, he lets go a little more and more until both of you are absolutely feral.
He never forgets your preferences in favor of his own pleasure though, not even deep in his season when he’s more instinct than anything else. Many of your preferences are in line with his own anyway. He always, always makes sure that you finish at least once first. Sometimes that means he has to beg you to come while he holds off on his own orgasm.
He is generally a quiet lover. However, to both of your surprise, you find he likes to talk when it’s his season. He likes to talk a lot. The things he says are… well. He might not be in complete control of himself, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be in control of you. Rather than manhandling you, he likes to sit back and tell you what he wants you to do. Of course, if you misbehave all bets are off. You will be doing whatever he wants either way. He will also say absolutely filthy things when he’s deep inside you. You find that you enjoy being called a little slut as long as you are Leo’s little slut.
As his season tapers off, he becomes increasingly affectionate. He returns to the smooth thrusts that light a slow fire in the both of you. He’ll spend a lot more time cuddling with you, beak buried in whatever body part of yours is closest. He might sleepily mutter about how happy he is that you smell like him. Sometimes he will just run his hands over you, watching them travel over your skin as if he can’t believe that he is allowed this, that you will let him have everything and more if he asks.
Once his mating season is over, Leo becomes a little bashful. He gets a bit of a guilt complex about every bruise and mark on you, and he’ll cringe remembering some of the things he said. He requires assurance that you are okay, that you haven’t been scared off by his… more primal instincts. You will have to hang out at the lair for a few extra days, because he gets anxious when he doesn’t know exactly where you are. He will make sure to carefully care for each bruise until it’s gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic
#bayverse leo#bayverse leo x reader#tmnt#talking tag#theory tag#mating season#pspspspsps leo girlies#have fuuuuunnnnnn#winky face
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|| ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ||
a/n: Hello loves! So sorry I kept y'all waiting for part three, I hope you enjoy this! Just wanted to let y'all know that I'll be flying off to South Korea for a vacation, and will only be back on the 22nd of June so updates will be paused till then. I'll try to continue writing on my trip, but there are no guarantees I won't be too tired lolol.
Love, pumpkin.
[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]
Blackmail — The act of attempting to force someone to do something or give up something valuable by threatening negative consequences if they don’t, especially revealing negative information about them.
That's what the online dictionary says anyway, which is perfect!
As such, it wouldn't be blackmail as much as it would be....persuasive negotiation. Which is the exact opposite of blackmail, which, again, is perfect!
Yeah, you’re getting nowhere with this.
You stifle a defeated groan as you collapse onto the plush mattress of your bed, dragging your hands down your face. Your phone beeps with a message, startling you out of your thoughts.
Nicole [ 7.15 PM ]: Did you find what you were looking for?
Nicole [ 7.15 PM ]: ?
Nicole [ 7.30 PM ]: Update me tomorrow.
Right. Nicole. Your hand falls limply to the side, fingers loosely gripping the device.
Crap.
How would you explain it to her? She’s always been good at sniffing out your lies. To tell, or not to tell. That is the question. Maybe you should just pretend nothing happened. That’d be the only reasonable thing to do in this situation, right?
But your art is at risk here. And if it’s anything you’ve learnt over your many years of living, it’s that you’re a stubborn bull that can’t back down once you’re set on something. And right now, you’re set on getting Spiderman to be your model.
You might get your mojo back if you draw him enough times. Maybe your art block won’t be so constipated anymore, and perhaps you might even get into the art school you have your eye on.
And maybe, just maybe, you might catch the eye of the art scouts at the end-of-year exhibition.
So there’s no way you can afford to give this up.
You’ll convince him. You have to.
— — — — —
“So, why’d you ignore my messages yesterday?”
You flinch away from the sudden hand on your shoulder, fingers decorated with rings glinting in the sun. Michael winces from where he’s standing opposite you, taking a long, slow sip of his juice box.
You stammer out Nicole’s name in surprise, the girl in question looking at you with a raised brow and serious eyes. She scans your nervous smile and flushed cheeks, letting go of you with a nod.
“You met him. How was it?”
Damn it.
“I didn’t end up meeting him,” You say with a defeated sigh, hoping it’s not excessive. Being under Nicole’s observant gaze is one of the scariest experiences in the world, with pigeons in close proximity a close second.
“Okay,” Her dubious tone gives you a slight sense of hope, only for your heart to drop at her next question. “So, why’d you ask me for Miles’s photo?”
“I, uh, ran into him and thought he looked familiar. So, I asked for his picture to double check,” You admit, hoping the truth mixed into some lies would be enough to convince her.
“Right…What’s your impression of him, then?”
“Cute?” You blurt out without thinking, recalling the framed picture of his young self with his parents on the small table.
“You think he’s cute?”
“M-maybe?” You try, but it clicks once you see the disgust in her eyes. “Yes! I do, in fact, find him very attractive. One might even say that he is now my…crush?”
You pray she doesn’t notice the underlying wince in your words. Nicole shudders, taking a small step away from you. “You need to get your eyes checked or something. I’ve known the guy since we were in diapers, and trust me when I say that he’s nothing but trouble.”
“I won’t do anything, I promise. Besides, I’m sure the crush is just temporary. It’ll blow over before you even know it!” Mainly because you don’t have a crush on the guy in the first place. But you do need to figure out a way to trap him to persuade him into being your model.
“Wait, you met Miles?”
“Why’re you glossing over the fact that she likes him?” Nicole says incredulously, gesturing to you with wide eyes. It’s probably the most expressive you’ve ever seen her, save for the time you invited them to go cafe hopping with you on a sweltering Monday.
You’d never heard so many variations of curses before, all of which Nicole unintentionally introduced you to. Since then, you’ve learnt to only hang out on cooler days with better weather and cafes within walking distance.
“So?” Michael shrugs nonchalantly, but the amused smile on his lips suggests otherwise. “Why are you so affected?”
“Because it’s my best friend liking Miles Morales - the guy I’ve known since we were babies. He’s not good enough for her.” Nicole decides with a frown. You turn to her, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you place your hands on your heart.
“I’m your best friend?” Nicole rolls her eyes at your words, crossing her arms. “You can drop from that tier anytime, so you better watch out.” She replies simply with a halfhearted glare, but her words have no bite to them. Her ears are tinted red.
“Aww,” You coo, throwing your arms around the girl who baulks in surprise, almost falling to the ground had you not steadied both of you. She wriggles under your tight hug, giving up quickly with a groan.
“Let me get in on that, chicas-” Michael is cut off when you kick his ankle, biting back a pained cry while you continue to hug Nicole, who has a satisfied smirk at your action. “Good job.” She pats your arm, and you reluctantly let go, dramatically wiping the tears away.
At least you succeeded in distracting her.
The rest of the day practically flies by, your body on autopilot and going through the motions of taking out your textbooks and doodling on them. Math, Science, and History were all meaningless in your eyes as you tried to make another plan to meet him. The past three attempts had shown you exactly how difficult it was to meet with the hero, much less alone.
You’re not one to give up, though. You stare down at the piece of paper filled with doodles and scribbled words — an outline of a plan, circling Spiderman’s name in red.
Okay, let’s try this again.
Attempt #1: Meet Him At The Park - The Friendly Way.
You take a tentative glance around. Good, No dogs are in sight. You look over to the park's far end, where you had set up a sign saying that dog treats were being given out for free if they assembled there.
Sometimes, lying is an essential means of survival. Another quick scan of your surroundings confirms that no one is in the path of the taco truck, and feeling only slightly guilty when you spot the owner’s surprised expression, wondering why his usual customers aren’t present.
However, you try not to linger on that, choosing to double-check if everything you need is on you.
Phone? Check. Earbuds? Check. Wallet? Check. Spiderman?
You grin once you spot the masked hero landing in front of the taco truck, right on schedule.
Check.
Standing up, you slowly make your way over, giving him time to place his order. Every step is light, your heart oddly calm as you approach him. Yeah. You got this. It’s just getting him to agree that’s the hard part.
Okay. You got this. Play it cool.
Walking up to the taco truck, you clear your throat, propping your elbow onto the small metal platform near the baskets of condiments. You casually glance at him, scanning his suit from head to toe before meeting his eyes.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he replies slowly with a slight tilt of his head, surprised by your sudden presence. He taps his fingers against the cold metal of the taco truck in a steady rhythm. You take a slow breath. You can take your time. It’s just a boy under the mask, after all.
“So, how’s being Spiderman going?” You ask absentmindedly, looking down at your nails and only now noticing that you’re in desperate need of a manicure.
“It’s going good. And you?”
“Could be better.”
“That doesn’t sound good. Is it anything your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman can help with?” His words are filled with worry, now giving you his full attention.
Got him.
“Well…” You trail off, barely managing to hide the excitement in your eyes and voice. Now’s the time to approach him carefully. If you’re careless, you could lose one of the few opportunities to get him to be your muse.
“Uh-huh?” He grabs the paper bag of tacos the owner hands him, handing him a crumpled bill from a hidden pocket in his suit with a quick nod of thanks in one smooth movement. However, he hears a slight commotion a short distance away, eyes narrowing as he tries to determine the source.
“I’m an art student, and I need a muse,” You continue, encouraged by his questioning hum and failing to notice the way his gaze is focused on something happening behind you. “So I was thinking-”
“Right, uh, miss. You seem like an absolutely wonderful lady. I’m so sorry, but we’ll have to continue this conversation another day. Duty’s kinda calling right now. I’ll pass by the basketball court tomorrow, and you can ask me your question there?” You can’t tell if he’s smiling, grinning, or even scowling under the mask. But it didn’t exactly sound hostile, so that’s that you suppose.
“Meet me at the sub shop on Fifth Avenue, two lefts after the huge statue and a right at the Lego store. Two-thirty P.M.,” You reply immediately. Why Mr Perez’s shop, in particular, you didn’t know. But you’re not about to chase after his ass again after the last few times. Not a chance in hell.
He agrees with a quick but apologetic nod, already swinging off with his paper bag of tacos and heading toward the angry horde of dog parents around the sign you placed earlier. You watch him land before them, trying to calm the group down.
Well, at least you got an appointment with him tomorrow. The problem now is how to make sure he accepts. Plus, him constantly running off isn’t the most ideal scenario in your situation.
So, you have to make sure he stays put.
You walk off, heading to the sub shop with the beginnings of an idea. (While simultaneously forgetting about the horde of dog parents who’re growing increasingly angrier from the absence of promised dog treats).
— — — — —
“Mr Perez, nice shirt! Did you separate the whites from the colours? It looks so clean!” You greet as soon as you walk in, taking a deep breath and smiling at the scent of pickle brine. The store is relatively empty, the last customer leaving through the door just as you walked in.
The store owner walks to the glass door, flipping the sign around to read Closed. He sends you a wary glance, walking back behind the counter to start cleaning up while you lean against the glass display case.
“What do you want?”
“Who said I wanted anything?”
“You only compliment my laundry when you want something.” It’s true. You do tend to do that. You suppose it’s time to be rid of the habit. But not today, for you have much more important goals to pursue.
“Okay. I need to borrow the storeroom for, like, a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon. No disturbances, complete privacy. Not even Didi is allowed in.” You get straight to the point, not bothering to beat around the bush.
“...Are you doing drugs?”
“That’s gross. And unsanitary. If I were doing drugs, I’d do it in the Science lab at school.” You point out, scrunching your nose in disgust.
“Are you smoking? Vaping?”
“No, and no. C’mon, Mr Perez, I thought you knew me better than that!” You huff, though you know that he’s just joking from the amused twinkle in his eyes.
“Fine. Just give me the signal. Besides, Didi’s at preschool tomorrow till five.” He says simply, wiping down his workstation with a clean cloth.
“Really? No takebacks!” You say with an exaggerated gasp, not expecting him to actually agree. The bright smile on your face makes him chuckle, shaking his head fondly as he washes up the kitchen knives in the sink.
“What time will you be coming?”
“Two-thirty. Remember, you promised no questions asked!” You call out over your shoulder as you exit while raising your hand in a quick salute. You saunter on home with your hands in your pockets, chest swelling with pride that you got a guaranteed meeting with the very boy you’ve been trying to convince to be your muse.
You’ve definitely got this.
— — — — —
Attempt #2: Kidnap Meet Him At The Sub Store - The Friendly Way.
Two-fifteen P.M.
You glance over at the IKEA clock hanging from the wall opposite you in the storeroom, tying the string securely around the metal shelf. Taking a step back, you survey the setup, scanning it for flaws in your otherwise perfect plan.
You arrange the chair to sit behind a wobbly table that’s about to break any day now due to countless playtimes with Didi’s mischievous ideas. (And maybe some of your own, but Mr Perez doesn’t need to know that.)
The bright light in the slightly cramped storeroom only adds to the ambience (of what, you don’t really know yourself). The punching bag hanging in the corner of the room is definitely no cause for concern. Maybe he’d think that you’re really into exercise. All that’s left is for Spiderman to get caught in your perfect trap. You’re pretty sure he won’t get hurt in the process.
The only thing left now is to wait. You head out into the front of the store, waving Spiderman over as soon as you see him enter. He follows with a skip in his step, only to slow down when you guide him into the storeroom.
“Uh…This is new, even for me.” He comments, looking around at the stacked boxes and metal shelves, unsure of what to make of this sudden change in vibe. You gesture at the chair, closing the door behind you.
“Sorry, I just needed a place away from prying eyes.” You sigh, discreetly watching him take a seat. He does so without hesitation, and you immediately grab the end of the string that’s hooked onto the metal shelf, using all of your strength (and the help of a pulley) to yank it.
Spiderman yelps, dangling from the ceiling by a tightly secured string around his ankle. “What the-? You said you needed help!”
“And I do!” You reply, a tinge of desperation in your words. “Just…just hang on.” You breathe out, taking the frying pan on the shelf next to you after securing the string and leaving him dangling still. You approach him, Spiderman failing to notice, too preoccupied with trying to escape.
“Michael better be right about this,” You mumble under your breath, taking a quick swing and hitting the spot on his head that Michael promised would knock anyone out instantly. Spiderman’s eyes close, his cry of protest cut off as his hands fall limply to his sides.
“Oh.” You stare down at him, squatting down and reaching your hand out to gently massage the spot where you hit him with a guilty smile. You hadn’t expected it to actually work. “Sorry, Morales. My goals aren’t to harm you, promise.”
Standing back up with a wince, you can feel the joints in your body popping from the sudden stretch. You never really bothered with exercise, categorizing your sketching and painting as such.
You huff, grabbing his arms and pulling him across the room after untying him from the string around his ankle. “But one of them might be to start working out,” You say through gritted teeth, finally reaching the punching bag. You take a deep breath, doing your best to pick him up and hold him against it while you tie him up.
“No-” Your muffled cry is cut short when your arms give out, and you fall onto your back with the unconscious hero lying on top of you. You groan, pushing him off you, eyeing the punching bag with distaste.
Another repeated attempt ends in the same result, and your back starts to ache from the impact of the hard surface against your back. You see him starting to stir, your eyes widening in panic, instinctively grabbing the frying pan and hitting him again. He falls back to the floor with a hushed groan while you breathe a sigh of relief.
You stand back up, eyeing the punching bag, before an idea hits you.
Finally, you sit in the chair in front of the punching bag, taking out your sketchbook from the bag you'd placed on one of the shelves this afternoon and beginning to sketch him leisurely. You spot him slowly blinking, regaining his consciousness as he realises that he’s tied up.
"So..." You drawl, leaning back in your seat with a lazy grin. The city's local hero, Spiderman, dangles upside down in your trap. You actually did it. You got him to stay put.
He struggles to get free from the tightly bound ropes, almost tugging off his mask in the process before giving up seconds after. “Not again…” You hear him groan in defeat, looking back up at you with a deadpan stare.
"I have to admit, I love the new suit." You comment, grabbing a pencil and doing a quick sketch, ignoring his earlier words.
"What do you want from me?"
You pause, looking up from your sketchbook. "You sound pretty young to be a hero." You purse your lips, trying to guess his age.
"W-what? No, I don't." His voice turns gruff, and you chuckle from how obvious he was forcing it to be.
"I don't really want much. Just to draw you is all." You hum, flipping a page and letting pencil meet paper.
"What?"
You don't respond, eyes trained on sketching the dimensions of his midnight black suit. "I like the spray paint."
"Thanks," He's surprised by your comment, hands still furiously working to free himself.
"Aren't you a villain?" He questions, unable to hold back his curiosity. You weren't really doing anything to him either, not like the muggers or robbers that roam the streets at night.
You were just... drawing him.
"I just thought the suit was cool." You respond simply with a shrug, looking straight at the white material on his mask that hides his eyes.
He flinches, surprised by the sudden eye contact. "And you trapped me because...?"
"I wanted to draw it."
"You could've just asked."
"I tried. You weren't really paying attention, or you weren’t available. Hero duties and all, remember? "
Now that you mentioned it, the hero does remember you from the mugging and the excuses he’d made, shrugging sheepishly in response.
"Oh. My bad."
The corner of your lips tugs upwards into a slight smile. At least he has the common decency to admit it.
"Could you untie me, though? It's getting a little uncomfortable." He voices out, fingers still trying to wriggle free.
"Sure, but I'll need something in exchange."
He sighs. Of course, you did. People always wanted something from him as Spiderman, be it a photo or to gain clout.
"What is it?" He's wary now.
You grin, hands closing the sketchbook with a loud snap as you place your pencil on your chair, getting up.
"That's easy," You walk towards him with ease, eyes filled with certainty. You're inches away from his upside-down figure, leaning in slightly until your lips are next to where his ear would be under the mask.
"Be my model, Miles Morales.”
He stills at the mention of his name. “Wh-what? I don’t know who this Miles guy is, but I’m obviously not him.” He laughs nervously, shaking his head.
You can practically see the waves of panic flooding through his mind. “You just changed the pitch of your voice,” You point out casually instead, leaning back against the wall with a smirk, your hands in your pockets.
“I’m telling you, I’m not this Miles guy you think I am. Though I’m very sure he may be cool enough to be Spiderman, I am not him.” He almost trips over his words, flinching when you move your hand close to his mask.
“Then I guess you won’t mind if I take this off?” You hum, spotting him trying to use his electric powers to break free. “Don’t bother. The strings are made out of insulated material.”
He flinches away from your fingers brushing against the side of his face, his eyes meeting yours and knowing he’s already lost this battle. “Fine.” He surrenders, his eyes narrowed into a hostile glare directed at you.
“Don’t be like that,” You chide, sitting cross-legged in front of him with a disapproving shake of your head. “Besides, I’m just here to make a deal with you.”
“Is this about the model thing?”
“Yeap,” You confirm, popping the ‘p’. “Here’s all I’m asking. Let me meet up with you twice a week. I’ll even pay you ten bucks per session. All you gotta do is sit there.” The intensity of his glare lessens somewhat, though you can still sense his wariness. Makes sense, though, considering you’ve just essentially ensured he can’t say no. Besides, your terms and conditions aren’t half bad either.
You wait patiently for his response, giving him time to mull over it.
“Deal. Now let me go.”
“Uh-uh, not just yet,” You tut, moving over to your bag, grabbing the makeshift contract you drafted last night, and showing it to him with a triumphant grin. “I even added two different lines for both of your signatures. Spiderman’s and Miles Morales.”
He rolls his eyes, and you take that as a good sign, cutting him loose. He falls gracefully to the floor, landing in a perfect superhero pose. You applaud, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for staying calm throughout the entire exchange. He takes the pen you hand to him, scrawling his name on the dotted line. You smile widely and keep the contract back in your bag, practically on cloud nine with this accomplishment.
Unfortunately, the euphoria makes you forget you’re still in a cramped storeroom.
Wincing when your elbow knocks against a loosely stacked box, you and Spiderman watch it slowly topple on its side, landing on the floor with a loud bang before looking at each other with wide eyes.
Okay, so maybe you don’t got this as much as you thought.
You freeze when the door opens, looking behind you to see Mr Perez with his hand on the doorknob. His eyes flit from you to Spiderman, his gaze settling on the open box on the ground with vegetables spilling out of it before looking back at you with furrowed brows.
As soon as your eyes meet, you smile sheepishly.
“I’ll babysit on Friday.”
— — — — — — —
taglist: (definitely not because I forgot I said I'd tag people lol)
@oh-kurva @brunnetteiwik @queerponcho @sleepingnova @1theestallionyas
#spiderman: into the spiderverse#Into The Spiderverse#miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x you#into the spiderverse x reader#spiderman: into the spiderverse x reader
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Seven Days to Fall Again | Tuesday | Jeon Jungkook
Inspired by the MV "Seven" by Jung Kook ft. Latto (obvi lol)
Summary: Train to take us back. Jungkook wants to talk it out so you can be together again but you're hellbent on not taking him back.
Paring: Reader x Jungkook (almost exes to lovers lol)
Word Count: 2k~
Warnings: No real warnings honestly just an argument.
a/n: The next few days will be shorter since I had planned on making this a series with shorter parts to begin with. I just needed to set up the state of their relationship on Monday with the breakup. I let me know what you think in the comments and I hope you're looking forward to Wednesday (superior jk imo hehe)
Start from the Beginning
Waking up the next morning I, on instinct reach out to search for Jungkook lying next to me and when I don't find him it all comes back to me. "Shit" I say, sitting up and feeling the pounding in my head already. 'So that's why I don't keep that wine at home' I think to myself and head to the kitchen to search for some pain meds, but before I'm even able to open the cabinet I hear the sound of my doorbell ringing.
I wrack my head thinking of who could possibly be coming over this early in the morning but no one comes to mind. I look through the peep hole and see it's the one person I hoped I could avoid for at least the next few days. "Go away Jungkook" I say, just loud enough for him to hear. "Please open the door" he says softly but even through the closed door I can still make it out.
"Why don't you open it yourself?" I ask, now curious as to why he hasn't used his keys yet. "I wanted to respect what you said about not coming home by at least knocking and waiting to be let in" he mumbles and I finally just decide to open the door, tired of having to lean up against it to hear his muffled voice. "Yet you came home anyway" I say holding onto the door in a defensive stance, still wanting to have the option to shut it in his face. Petty? Probably. Deserved? Yes.
"I wanted to talk to you and, I don't know, maybe get some clothes if you still want to kick me out" he says and I know he's doing this to make me feel bad but I just give in and walk away from the door and leave it open. Neither inviting him in, nor shutting him out. "Thank you" he says and comes over to the table, placing down a bag that I didn't even notice he had.
I look at it questioningly for a second waiting to see if he might disclose what is in said bag and luckily he does so before I have to swallow my pride and ask. "I brought breakfast" he says unloading some takeout boxes from the nearby bakery that I love. "And pain meds, just in case we had run out" he says and places that on the side of the table closest to me.
I ignore the last part and look in the kitchen cabinet to search for some on my own and to my dismay I come up empty handed leaving me having to accept one of his peace offerings. "Thank you" I mumble and head to the sink to get a glass of water. "How did you sleep?" he asks, watching me gulp down the glass to aide in getting it down.
"How do you think I slept?" I question back sarcastically, him now looking at the disheveled state I'm in. "Right..." he trails off, realizing it was a pretty stupid question to ask. "Jungkook what do you want?" I ask wanting to bypass his stupid excuse of small talk.
"I want to talk about what happened last night. Why do you want to break up?" he asks and I slam the cup down on the counter, infuriated as to why he would even ask that question again. "I told you in explicit detail last night and you still don't know? I didn't realize I needed to add clueless and a horrible listener to the list as well" I say crossing my arms over my chest. "Unbelievable" I mutter to myself.
"What is unbelievable is that you didn't give us the opportunity to actually sit down and communicate things like adults in a controlled environment. Noona, half the stuff you said was difficult for me to hear because of the other people around us. I wanted to give both of us a chance to talk this out a bit more so we can figure out if there's any way we can work this out so we can still be together" he says trying his best to convince me to even give him a chance to at least say his piece.
"I told you last night Jungkook. I'm done and I don't want to be with you anymore" I state and turn to go back to the bedroom. "Just let m-" "I need to get ready for class. Grab what you need and make sure you're gone by the time I get out of the shower" I say grabbing a towel and closing the door to the bathroom behind me and turning on the water before he tries to say anything else.
Feeling the warm water run over my body has me sighing in pleasure, finally getting rid of the tension throughout my body and eventually the medicine kicks in and is able to reduce my headache to a dull pressure which is definitely an improvement from earlier. Jungkook's surprise visit making it even worse. I just need to go to the library to write and submit my paper so I don't get distracted at home and then I'll have the rest of the day to relax after cleaning up the house for a bit.
After I finish getting ready I walk past the kitchen and notice that the take out boxes he brought are still there. My stomach grumbles and I contemplate eating it. 'He wouldn't know either way' I think it to myself. I take a second, debating on if I should just do it but decide on leaving them where they are, adding it to the list of my to dos.
I grab my bag and get ready to go while letting out a frustrated sigh, upset with myself for being so stubborn. If I give in to him too much I might end up taking him back, I just have to keep rejecting him and hopefully he'll eventually get the memo.
Opening the door and taking a quick glance around the hallway I am thankful to say that he's no where to be found. 'Well at least he listened to me this time' I say to myself, locking the front door behind me and taking the elevator downstairs to start on my journey to the library. Once the doors open at the ground floor I am unfortunately met by the sight of Jungkook leaning up against his car right outside.
"I thought I told you to leave" I say and fix the strap on my bag before continuing on my journey. "Just let me drop you off. We don't even have to talk" he says chasing after me. "No" I decline, sticking to my strategy of rejecting him. "Then let me walk you there" he offers up instead. "No, leave me alone" I say and start walking faster and he thankfully he doesn't chase after me.
After a few minutes though I can still sense his presence behind me, "Stop following me" I say without turning around. "I'm not following you, I need to go to the station too" he says, making up a sorry excuse for his motives. "Whatever" I mumble under my breath and we, to my dismay, both make our way to the station.
"Where are you even going?" I asks once we both end up standing in the same line waiting for the same damn train. "I'm going to the library" he says simply and looks past me to where the train will be arriving in a minute. "But I'm going to the library" I say, crossing my arms and raising a brow at him. "I know, I knew you were lying when you said you had class because you don't have any classes on Tuesdays" he says, surprising me that he actually remembered part of my schedule.
I open my mouth to respond but before I can the PA system tells us that our train will arrive in 30 seconds so I turn back around to face it and start making may way in after it arrives. Before I'm all the way inside though I catch Jungkook off guard by shoving one of his shoulders causing him to stumble back, stunned for a second which is just long enough for him to not make it past the doors in time, with them closing before he can even recover.
I smile and wave at him triumphantly, seeing his slightly irritated expression but when the train starts moving he runs alongside it for as long as he can, causing me to roll my eyes at him and turn back around to face the inside of the train and put my earbuds in, praying that I'll be able to go through the rest of my day without him...
Seeing that luck is not on my side today I find him right on the steps of the library waiting for me. "I brought you coffee. I know you didn't have any this morning and you usually get even more of a headache than you probably have now if you don't have any caffeine in your system" he smiles sweetly, to which I send him a sarcastic one and take the coffee out of his hand before throwing it in the trashcan and making my way up the steps to get inside.
He is able to run up the steps faster than I am, enough to where he's able to open the door for me to get inside. I ignore him and go to one of the other sets of double doors and open it to let myself in. This day was already going to be hard enough with this stupid hangover that the slightest things will irritate me and he knows that. So why he would possibly think that following me around and pestering me would be a good idea is beyond me.
"Leave me alone, I need to study" I whisper when I finally find a spot that unfortunately has an empty seat right next to it. "I know, just let me keep you company" he says and lays his head down on the desk and looks up at me for a while with a lovesick smile. "Don't give me those puppy dog eyes or I'll gouge them out myself" I threaten, which gets him to sit up straight and take out his laptop that he somehow was able to hide from me.
"How are you able to be here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" I question quietly, hoping I won't get scolded by the other people around for being too loud. "I work from 'home' this week" he says putting home in air quotes. "You've never worked from home before" I say getting suspicious. "Well, now I am" he says simply, opening his laptop and getting to work.
After a few hours of sitting next to him with only the sound of our keyboards to remind us of each other's presence I submit my paper and pack up my stuff so I can head back and Jungkook decides to do the same even though he was clearly in the middle of something. "Are you done for the day?" he questions, as he lets me lead the way when we get out of the library.
"Not that it's any of your business, but yes I am done for the day" I say and make my way toward the station again. "Can I give you a ride home now?" he asks with us clearly passing his car. "Nope, but feel free to take yourself anywhere that isn't home and never come back" I huff and make my way back to the train station. He decides to do the first part of the statement after watching me walk away until I'm out of his line of sight but we know as much as I don't want him to, he'll always comeback...
Monday / Wednesday
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Sick — Jeremiah Fisher x Fem!Reader
Description — you are staying with the fishers and the conklins for the summer, and you get a job as a daycare worker at the country club, but what happens when you catch the germs of the little ones?
Warnings — mentions of sickness, cuddling with a sick person *social distance ya’ll* that’s it
Fandom — the summer I turned pretty
Requested — no
A/n: hope you enjoy this one, and remember! Wash your hands!!
“Thomas, Savannah you get back here!” You shouted as you were chasing a bunch of 3-4 year olds down the hallways
“Try to catch me miss Y/n.” Said one little girl as she giggled
You shook your head, as you noticed the kids distracted you picked up Savannah, while grabbing Thomas’s hand, dragging them back to the day care room
“What did I tell you about leaving this classroom?” You asked
“We’re sorry miss y/n.” Said Savannah as she looked up at you with sad eyes, you sighed
“It’s fine just don’t do it again, now go eat your lunch.” You said, after you said that, a voice disrupted your thoughts
“Miss Y/n.” Said one little girl “your boyfriend is here!” She said as she nibbled on her cheese cracker giggling
The rest of the kids giggled as one little boy made kissy faces, Miss Amy walked up to you
“I’ll settle these kids down, why don’t you talk your hour lunch break?”
“Sounds perfect, thank you.”
Miss Amy smiles at you as she looked back at the kids
“Miles you put that down!” Said Miss Amy “your bento box is not a toy!”
“I don’t know how you do it.” Said Jeremiah as he walked side by side with you down the hallway towards the dining hall
“It’s nothing.” You said “but I do hope I don’t get sick, apparently there is something going around, they called that three teachers are out sick with the flu.”
“Well let’s hope you don’t.”
Well… let’s just say that you jinked it, the next day you found yourself with a fever of 102.3
“Those kids.” You said as you sat the thermometer down, you were in your thoughts until belly came in
“Woah y/n… you look beat, are you ok?” Asked belly as she walked close to you, but you stopped her with your hand
“Don’t. Come. Close.” You said with a raspy voice
Belly walked close to you anyway, when she did she placed the back of her hand on your forehead, but taking it off within seconds
“Oh my gosh…” said belly “your burning.”
“Yeah.” You said as you past by belly back to the door of your room “now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.”
“I’m staying home today.” Said belly “I’ll take care of you.”
“Thanks belly but I rather you not get what I got.” You said as you smiled at her, shutting the door
“Knock knock.” Said a voice, it was Susannah who had something in her hands “belly told me, how are you feeling?”
“Well… my nose is stuffy, my throat hurts, oh and I’m achy.” You said as you sat up
“Well I made some chicken soup and I thought you might want some.”
“Thanks.” You said as you sat up from your bed.
“I’ll leave you alone.” Said Susannah as she gave you a small smile before walking out
It has been a few hours, more say 2 hours has passed. You were reading a book before you heard another knock, this time it was Jeremiah at the door.
“I hate that your sick, because your going to miss the awesomest party ever!” Said Jeremiah as he stood at the doorway, you chuckled.
“Awesomest isn’t even a word, but yeah.” You said as you looked at Jeremiah “you guys have fun.”
“Call me if you need anything.” Said Jeremiah as he bends down to kiss your forehead, but you jerk away
“Sorry but, im kinda contagious here.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Said Jeremiah as he gave you a kiss on the forehead anyway
“Alright, but don’t come to me when you get what I have.” You said “it’s not fun.”
“Whatever!” Shouted Jeremiah from the hallways, you chuckled before getting back to your book.
A week later
“So… how does it feel to be in my shoes.” You said as you were standing at the doorway of Jeremiah’s room. Turns out, he got what you had. Yours was still lingering but you were feeling better.
“This is torture.” Said Jeremiah, he sneezed again before looking at you “but it was worth it.”
You rolled your eyes before walking out of the room
“Love you!” Shouted Jeremiah
“Whatever!” You shouted back
—
The summer I turned pretty masterlist
#the summer i turned pretty#the summer i turned pretty imagine#jeremiah fisher fic#tsitp jeremiah#jeremiah fisher x you#jeremiah fisher x reader#jeremiah x reader#jeremiah fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher
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⋅ ⎯ ✈︎ nishimura riki | s. high school niki reacting to someone slut shaming you ! | w. slut shaming, arguing, cursing ! | p. student!riki x student fem!reader ! | g. angst, high school au, imagine ! | r. requested by anon ! | wc. ~0.6k !
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西村力 ' nishimura riki
riki is your best friend, someone who has stuck by your side since the day you moved to his school. which, in fact was the 9th grade.
but as much as he loved you and cared for you, he couldn't protect you from the rumors people would spread. as the foreign student in a all japanese school, you weren't surprised people were already gossiping the moment you stepped into that school.
people would say you only came here because you were obsessed with asians, completely disregarding the fact your dad was stationed in japan for the next 8 years.
your japanese wasn't necessarily the best but after 3 years of already living here, you were finally so close to fluency. and none of that would be possible without the help of your friend, riki.
"why didn't you bring lunch, again?" riki asks sitting besides you as you scrolled through your phone. you shrug and continue scrolling through your instagram. after a few moments riki pushed your phone down, "i got my mom to pack me some extra for you, eat it."
"i don't have the appetite to eat riki." you tell him sighing.
riki looks at you concerned, "i told you to stop paying attention to what other people say about you y/n, it doesn't matter we're graduating soon anyways." in which he received an eye roll from you.
"now eat." he says putting the bento box in front of you with a pair of chopsticks.
you take the chopsticks in between your index and thumb and begin to eat what his mom kindly prepared for you, "if you heard the rumors about me this time, you'd have no appetite either." you say after swallowing.
right before lunch ended a group of girls did not hesitate to sit in front of you as riki got up to throw away some of the trash.
"the foreigner, always trying to get into the popular boys pants." the girl laughs as the rest of her clique also laughs along.
"it's pathetic thinking you'll be loved for trying to befriend the most popular boy in school, you've got riki for now, but just wait until he knows what you really want." another girl chimes in giggling.
it didn't take riki long to notice that you were being cornered by a bunch of losers from afar, but he didn't make a scene until he heard what the last girl had to say, "you're nothing but some slutty rich girl."
"what did you say?" riki asks walking over, which shocked the girls.
"you should stop hanging out with her riki, she's no good." the girl smiles.
"riki let's just go." you say lowly pulling his arm.
"no, i'm not letting them continue to drag your name through the mud, i'm tired of hearing their constant yapping." riki snaps. "you think you're everything, but that mouth of yours won't get you anywhere kiko."
kiko rolls her eyes, "cmon riki, you were one of us before she got here."
"you might be some rich politician's kid, but once your dad loses that election nothing but karma is going to bite you in the ass, enjoy the crown while it lasts because it'll be knocked off that big head of yours in just a few days." riki finishes grabbing your hand walking away.
"my head is not big!" kiko screams as the two of you left the cafeteria.
"riki, you didn't have to do that." you say sighing.
"she deserved it." riki says smiling, "luckily the teachers couldn't hear what was going on, right?"
you lean back and smile, "you've always been good to me, ever since i moved here" you turn your head towards riki, "i owe you one nishimura."
2022 © jungwnies
#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#niki scenarios#niki reactions#niki fluff#niki x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#niki drabbles#nishimura riki x reader#nishimura riki#riki#niki#ni-ki#ni-ki fluff#riki fluff#riki x reader#jungwnies#𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies#♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° ― requested
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Christmas Joy
CS: Ghost gets some presents
It's Christmas.
It's supposed to be one of the happiest times of the year. Food, warmth, family time, and presents.
Christmas was very fun with your family and a lot happened, so it was a big contrast from here on base.
Of course you liked spending time with your 141 squad, but if you spent another week with them, especially when Christmas cheer was literally here, you were gonna headbutt them.
However, you got them presents anyway. Soap got a razor kit and appreciated as you noticed he loved his mohawk so much.
Gaz got a case for his missing equipment as he was known for misplacing his things sometimes.
Price got a better hat, since the one he always wears was starting to wear out. It looked like he had dug it up from someone's grave, you'd say. He laughed and took the hat appreciatively.
He watched as you looked around for the tallest man on the squad, holding a medium sized box. Where was he…?
Price frowns. "Looking for Ghost?", he asks. You turn to him, slightly sheepish. "Yeah. He in his room?"
He sighs. "He just might be. He… Christmas isn't exactly a good holiday for him. Never has been.", Price explained, scratching his beard.
You frowned, understanding. You knew Ghost was… standoffish, to say the least. He didn't often show emotions or expressions aside from a sarcastic smile here and there.
You figured he had to have had a rough childhood from the way he talked, or behaved. He never talked about his family much, so it kinda made sense.
Even still, everyone deserves a good Christmas. Even Ghost.
With an appreciative nod, you left to find Ghost's room. Upon approaching the room, you begin to get hesitant and curious. How much has Christmas affected his life? What happened?
Would he even like the gifts you got him…?
It was Ghost. He was blunt, unhesitant. He'd be straight with you and you'd have to do your best not to take it to heart.
But the thought of that made you nervous. As you walked up to his door, you thought about just leaving the present there, doing a little dingdong ditch for him.
But before you could, a rumbled voice came from behind the door. "Come on.", you heard.
You took a deep breath and opened the door. Peeking inside, you could see how minimal his room was. He just had a desk, his bed and a lamp. Very minimal, you thought almost unimpressed.
There he was, laying on his bed wearing nothing but his usual balaclava, a black turtleneck and cargo pants.
How could he sleep in those?
Stepping in, you closed the door and gave him a smile. "Hey, LT." You walked up to him, standing just a few feet away from him.
You see his dark eyes drift to the box in your hands. "What's that?", he asks.
"Uh.. a present? I got everyone else one, and I wanted to get you too. Didn't want you to be left out.", you confessed with a shy smile.
Despite his balaclava covering his whole face aside from his eyes, you could've sworn his eyebrows rose in curiosity.
He let out a sigh through his nose and sat up. "Give it 'ere.", he mumbled. Your smile grew as you handed it to him.
He held the box and patted next to him on his bed, which you happily took the chance to sit.
He looked down at the neatly wrapped box, tempted to even shake it as he looked at you with a curious, but warning look.
"No pranks, promise.", you reassured. The man sighed again and unwrapped the box, finally opening it to see another wrapped present, a smaller box and a pair of tactical gloves.
He took the tactical gloves out first and examined them. They looked like his usual skull ones, but brand-new.
He looked at you, waiting for an explanation. "I figured you were gonna need some soon. You're wearing out the ones you have now, and those will take a while for you to wear out.", you say, and he nods, setting them aside.
He picked up the smaller box and opened it, revealing a nice watch. He didn't wear any jewelry aside from his dog tags.
If you could call them jewelry, that is.
He glanced at you, slightly amused. "This your way of telling me I have no sense of fashion, Sergeant?"
You chuckled. "Maybe."
He shook his head, and put it on his desk. The last present, you were really thoughtful for. It took a while to find all the materials and have someone help you with it.
This one… you really hoped he liked.
He picked up the last present, curious and finally opened it. He paused.
It was a tactical knife, sheathed in a black leather sheath. He pulled the knife out of its covering and his eyes widened a bit.
The base of the knife was made of black steel, while the edge, the blade, was covered in a white permanent coating.
On the side, however, was engraved with a writing that stated: S. Riley
The writing was on both sides. Even the handle had a neat, little skull carved into it.
You bit your lip as you watched him examine it. Did he like it?
He rubbed the cool base of the knife with his thumb, the pad running over his engraved name.
He was almost… speechless. And that didn't happen very often. He set the knife back into its sheath and sat it down on his desk, next to his watch.
He looked at you once more. He was unsure what to do. He wasn't expecting to give anyone any presents, much less receive any.
He wasn't prepared.
You noticed his weariness, his hesitation and uncertainty. Smiling softly, you gave him a hug. "Merry Christmas, Simon."
He stiffened for a moment before wrapping his arms around you. It took some getting used to, but once he found himself getting comfortable, he grew to like the affection.
"Thank you…"
A week after Christmas, the squad was back to work. As Ghost got himself ready, he took his knife with him, and picked up his watch. As his fingers ran over the backside, he felt indistinctive lines carved into it and turned it around to see it engraved in a date.
10.28.XXXX
This... Was the date you two met the first time of your recruitment.
The corners of his lips lifted a bit as he put it on, covering it with his sleeve. He finally put his gloves on, the material instantly warming his usual cold hands.
They weren't enough to make his hands sweaty, but enough to get his blood pumping through them.
He looked around his room once more before leaving.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley headcanons#simon riley#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#cod mw2 imagine#ghost cod#cod fanfic#john soap mactavish#black readers#simon riley x black reader
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candy hearts | part 1
eddie munson x cheerleader!fem!reader
summary: it’s valentine’s day at hawkins high, which means it’s time to buy a valentine gram for that special someone. and eddie being eddie, thinks that it’s so stupid, and lame. until, receives one from someone he would’ve never expected.
warnings: bad grammar lol
author’s note: hi!! it’s my first time writing something here on tumblr so pls be nice but also let me know what you think! also if u want to request something for eddie, or any character from stranger things, or any character from other things, go ahead and put it in my ask box! and i’ll try and make a master list soon. okay, i’ll stop now. have fun reading!
read part 2 here
Feb 14 1986. Valentine’s Day. To couples, it was the best day of the year.
To Eddie Munson, it was the most dreadful day of the year. Not only is it because there’s couples at every corner of the school eating at each other’s faces 24/7, but also because of the cliche high school Valentine grams. To some people it might be a way to show your love for each other, to others it might just be a bag of candy and a meaningless card, but here at Hawkins High, it was a popularity contest. The more grams you got, the more popular you were. And every year, it’s seems that everyone got at least one. Everyone except for Eddie.
It’s not like he cared anyway. I mean it was just some stupid high school cliche. That’s what he would tell himself at least. But deep down inside of him, he secretly wished that there was at least one person in this school that cared enough to spend a dollar on him. And he secretly wished it was you.
Y/N L/N. Co-captain of the cheer team, Chrissy Cunningham’s best friend, and one of the most popular girls in school. Girls wanted to be her, and guys wanted to be with her. Guys including Eddie Munson. 
He didn’t want to admit it but he was obsessed with you. But not in the same way as everyone else. Other guys looked at you and all they could see was a hot girl, single, and their next hook up. To Eddie, yeah you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but you were more than just a pretty face. You were smart, and treated everyone with kindness. You treated Eddie with kindness. Eddie couldn’t help but think about you almost every moment of the day. Most days he would think about what it would be like to hold you, kiss you, and tell you how much he cares about you, and some days, he would think about the day he had been wishing for since the day he saw you. The day that he would finally get the courage to talk to you. And today was one of those days.
As Eddie walked in to the classroom, late of course, black lunchbox in hand filled with you know what, headphones on blasting “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” by Kiss. He listened to this song every morning before school ever since he heard you humming it during class. As he walked into the class, his heart started beating faster in chest. He caught a glimpse of you across the room, listening to whatever the girl behind you was telling you. He looked around the room, looking for an empty seat, and low and behold. The only empty seat, was right next to you. Looks like cupid was on his side today.
As he approached the seat, you looked up at him and smiled. “Hi Eddie!” you cheered, as he took his seat. The way you looked at him, the way you said his name, Eddie for sure thought that he would pass out right then and there.
“Hi” he said shyly. You smiled at him once again, before facing the front of the class as Mrs. O’Donnell took attendance, then continued on with the lesson. Eddie tried to pay attention, he really did. He was so close to a D in this class which meant that he was so close to graduating, but he couldn’t help but stare at you. He started noticing the little things you did. The way you would glance between you paper and the board while taking notes, the way your brows furrowed when you didn’t understand something, the way you would lean against the desk when you found something intriguing, and the way you would bite on your lip when answering the problems on the board. He noticed it all.
He continued to stare at you for the rest of the class hour, then was snapped out of his day dream. Chrissy Cunningham walked in with a bag of Valentine grams on her shoulder for the last 5 minutes of class. As she started calling out names and handing out the little goodie bags, Eddie couldn’t help but lean his chin on his hand. Waiting for this to be over. Chrissy called out your name, and handed you what looked like about 10 grams. Eddie wished that he had gotten you one. He thought it was stupid, but he saw the way your eyes lit up as Chrissy handed you the bags. He wished that he could’ve been the reason for that.
As Chrissy was near the end of her list, Eddie officially zoned out. Staring down at fingers tapping on the desk.
“Eddie Munson” Chrissy called out. Eddie was too caught up in his own mind that he didn’t hear his name get called. “Eddie Munson?” Chrissy called out again. Eddie’s head shot up. The room went silent. Who would’ve sent the freak a Valentine gram?
Eddie raised his hand, before Chrissy came over to his desk. She handed him the bag and smirked at you for a quick moment before leaving the room. Eddie hadn’t even noticed the interaction the two of you had, he was too focused on the brown paper bag with his name in cursive on it. As O’Donnell wrapped up her lesson, and told everyone the homework for the weekend, Eddie was opening his bag. He saw the different types of heart-shaped chocolates and candies, and pulled out the red envelope. He ripped it open, read the card, and he couldn’t believe what he was reading.
Happy Valentine’s Day Eddie! Hope this makes your day <3 - Y/N
At this point, Eddie’s eyes were bulging out of the sockets. He couldn’t believe that the one girl that he wanted a gram from, actually got him one.
He nervously turns his head to the left to look at you, and sees you stand up, putting your bag on your shoulder. He looks at you with his mouth slightly open. You reach your hand out towards his chin, and close his mouth, causing his eyes to bulge out more if that’s even possible. You smile at him, then leave for second period.
Eddie, just sits there. Not really sure what to do next.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#eddie munson x cheerleader!reader
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For kinktober, maybe Belphie and predicament bondage? (Bonus if it's him receiving?)
Hello, anon!
Okay, you really gave me a challenge with this one lol. I'm not sure I did very well, but I tried my best! I had to look up predicament bondage because I needed some kind of understanding of positioning and what not... again, not so sure I did a good job of describing it?? Hrm.
Anyway! I apologize in advance if I totally butchered this kink, I'm afraid I might not have enough knowledge of it. I also took some artistic liberties because I didn't want to figure out how MC got a suspension frame into their room without anybody noticing lol.
Thanks for submitting a prompt!
KINKTOBER 2023
GN!MC x Belphegor
NSFW MDNI
Warnings: predicament bondage (ropes, bar, gag, suspension - obvs Belphie is the one receiving), hand job (sorta it's pretty brief, also Belphie receiving), ummmm also some praise at the end I think that's it?
You had gathered all the items you would need a few days prior, keeping them stashed in a box beneath your bed. Now, on the day you had chosen, you pulled the box out from under the bed and set it upon the table in your room. You took out the ropes, the bar, and the gag carefully, placing them in a neat row.
You had already had a lengthy discussion with Belphegor about that night's activities. It had been planned for an evening when the rest of the brothers would be out of the house, mostly because you didn't trust them not to burst in on you in the middle of things. You had also discussed exactly what Belphie wanted you to do to him, which surprised you a little until you remembered that he was actually a demon. You had also established safewords and gestures, just in case.
You turned when you heard him knock softly at your door. When you opened it, he was already blushing, looking a little shy, but also determined. You smiled at him and let him in.
"Are you ready?" you asked.
Belphie turned to you, a genuine smile on his face. "I'm more than ready," he said and indeed, his eyes seemed to be sparkling with anticipation.
You smirked and waved a hand at him. "You know what to do, then."
Belphie stripped quickly, leaving his clothes in a haphazard heap on the floor. He shifted into demon form next, his horns and tail emerging as he stood beside the table, right where all your items were lined up for him to see. He glanced at them, but then he kept his eyes on you.
You cast a spell and a suspension hook descended from the ceiling. You had found the spell in an old odd-looking book that was in a strange little shop that you never were able to find again. But it was exactly what you had been looking for and what you needed. The hook was in the perfect spot and you attached a ring to it.
Then you took the ropes and began to tie Belphie up. He kept his body loose, letting you maneuver him into the correct positions easily. When you bent his arms and pulled them back, stretching them uncomfortably, he let out a small grunt, but otherwise he was quiet. You pulled the rope around his wrists and tied them each to his horns.
You tied his ankles to the bar, causing him to need to stretch his legs out. You then tied the rope around his waist before also tying it to the bar beneath his cock. You ran your fingers along his skin as you went back behind him. You took his tail in your hands, running it along your palm, brushing your fingers through the hair at the end of it. Then you looped it through the ring in the ceiling. You tied the rope around the end of it, causing it to have an uncomfortable tension.
When you were done, you came around to stand before him, the gag in your hand.
"Are you sure you want this, too?" you asked, holding it up for him to see. It was a standard black leather ball gag.
Belphie looked at you, but he didn't say anything, only opened his mouth.
You placed the ball in his mouth and buckled the gag around his head.
Then you stood back to take in the full effect.
Belphie's eyes closed. His face was flush, his body tense. His muscles were straining and he seemed to be trying to keep himself from falling to his knees. If he did, it would be extremely painful, so you hovered close enough to catch him if it came to that.
The best part, though, was his hard cock, already leaking.
Belphie was breathing hard through his nose, drool beginning to drip down his chin from the gag.
You waited. Part of the point was to see how long he could last, how long he could handle staying in that position. The tension of the ropes that dug into his skin, the look of concentration on his face, the way he kept his eyes closed as though meditating.
When you could tell he had reached his limit, you loosened some of his ropes. As you released his tail and some of the ropes tied to the bar, Belphie could move enough to sag. You pulled loose some of the ropes on his arms, too, revealing the red lines left behind.
Before you removed the rest, you went back around to face him. He opened his eyes, watching you, likely expecting you to take the gag out of his mouth.
Instead you took hold of his hard cock and pumped. He jerked against your hand and the ropes, a low growl emanating from deep in his throat.
You smiled and caressed his cheek. "You doing so well," you said. "My good boy."
Belphie came in your hand, shuddering against the now slackened ropes, moaning around the gag.
Later you would take your time removing every last rope, saving the gag for last. When you unbuckled it and pulled the ball out of his mouth, Belphie said your name softly before collapsing in your arms. You took him over to your bed to rest, brushing your fingers through his hair as he fell asleep almost instantly.
flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me smut#obey me belphegor#om belphegor#belphegor obey me#obey me belphie#om belphie#belphie obey me#obey me belphegor smut#obey me belphie smut#obey me belphegor x reader#om belphegor x reader#om belphie x reader#obey me kinktober#misc kinktober 2023#misc writes#misc naughty times
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Transient (sex and zombies-chapter 2)
(all chapters here)
pairing- {Daryl x fem!reader}
summary - Sometimes you just have to let things go.
warnings- 18+ content, minors do not interact! smut, car sex, pining over Rick Grimes...<3
Basking in the morning light peeking through the tiny window, your comfort was interrupted by three polite knocks on the RV door. Groggy and rubbing your eyes, you made your way over to the entryway. Kind of hoping it would be Daryl there to apologize. But when you opened the door Rick's eyes looked you up and down quickly before landing on your eyes.
“Hey…” he shifted on his feet. “Me and Daryl are going into town. Did you uh… need anything?” Offering you some sort of reconciliation through clothes or candy.
“Um… I-" you looked around at the empty RV. You’d been so bored in your couple days of sulking. “Do you think I could come with? I could use some air…” you leaned against the doorway.
Daryl was looking at the two of you from his bike on the driveway. Rick's truck parked beside him.
He looked behind at Daryl, making sure you could see him. “Uh… yeah, sure.”
You motioned Rick inside. “Just give me a minute to put on some clothes,” he looked down at your bare legs. Rick closed the door behind him and watched as you walked over to your bag and slipped on a pair of jeans. Turned away from the man, you stripped your oversized t-shirt and put on a fresh fitted long sleeve instead. Latched on your duty belt, grabbing a knife and your gun. Plus a bag for whatever you might find in town.
“Ready?” Rick finally asked as you loaded your gun. You nod and brush past him, walking to the passenger side of the truck. Daryl’s eyes burned into the back of your head. There’s no way he wanted you on this run. Rick didn’t mind, mostly because you assumed he felt bad. He wouldn’t say no to you. Not often anyway.
The truck ride was mostly silent. But you could feel Rick's eyes on you as you watched the fields pass by through the window. You’d catch him looking once in a while but he would immediately look back at the road ahead.
“How are you feelin'?” He broke the silence.
“Fine.”
“Cooled off yet?”
You rolled your eyes. He left it at that.
The drugstore had been raided already. However most of what was taken was the food from the shelves. You browsed down the aisles carefully. Awaiting a dead one to grab you at any moment. Well, prepared at least. You grabbed some candy, vitamins, batteries and a couple boxes of condoms that you knew Rick pretended not to see. In the back of the store, the pharmacy was still quite full. All three of you hopped over the counter inspecting medicines and taking what you felt would be most useful.
Now that Carl was mostly healed, there wasn’t a huge need for medicine, but it was comforting nonetheless. And, since the news of Lori's pregnancy, well it was best to be prepared for anything.
Suddenly the bell chimed at the entryway of the store. The door was torn open and several voices came from the front entryway. Shit.
You gave a panicked look at Rick and he grabbed you by the arm, whispering something to Daryl from through the shelves. Rick shoved you into the pharmacist office and rummaged around looking for somewhere to hide.
The smallest closet known to man fit the two of you, leaving not a centimeter of space between your chests. Rick closed the sliding door gently. You heard the office door open and close again. But no sound of the men. Their voices were still muffled, and could be heard talking from further in the store. You figure there were maybe 6 or 7 of them? You’d seen at least 4 coming in before being pushed into the office space.
Rick's hands were on your hips, holding you against the wall. It was hard not to notice. Thinking he’d be able to feel your heartbeat through his shirt. With every muscle of his torso pressing into you.
“Wait what about Daryl.. if they…where did he-”
Rick interrupted with a whisper of your name. He put his finger up to your lips and softly spoke into your ear.
“I’m gonna need you to be really quiet for me ok?” You could actually feel the butterflies swarming in your belly.
You nod. Moving slowly, his hand comes down from your lips and rests on your bicep while the other hand reaches behind him for his gun. You didn't realize that you were claustrophobic. But maybe it depended on the situation.
From outside the closet you could hear the strangers talking.
“Check the office. See if there’s anything worth taking. Looks like all the good stuff is gone anyway.” The door to the office opened and you could feel your eyes widening.
You resisted the urge to call out Rick's name. Anything for his attention. You grabbed onto his shirt and looked up at him for some sense of comfort.
Quiet . You just had to be quiet. His hand moved down to wrap around your lower back rubbing sweet, calming circles onto your skin underneath your shirt.
He gave you a reassuring nod and you tucked your face into his shoulder. Trying to muffle any sound of your breathing. All you could hear was your heartbeat so you weren’t sure how loud your breathing even was.
Shamefully you felt a jolt of pleasure between your legs at the feeling of the man’s hand on your bare skin, pulling you closer into him. You shouldn’t feel so good about being stuck in such a stressful situation, pressed up against a married man. But for whatever reason the butterflies never stop with Rick.
In fact, you had to physically stop yourself from arching even further into him, his hips, his groin…
Someone rifled through the desk in the office. Opening filing cabinets harshly and closing them with just as much force. He swore a couple times.
“Anything?” A voice appeared out of nowhere.
Nope. Nothing so please leave. Please.
“Nah just a bunch of paper”
“You sure there ain’t a safe or anything?”
“Man don’t you think if I-“
“Dibs!”
“Ah fuck!”
There was a little rustling but you couldn’t make out what they’d found.
Hopefully Daryl was hidden well.
A different voice called to the men this time, asking what they’d found.
“Nothing really…” the guy answered.
“Then let’s not waste our time, come on,” the further voice called.
When the men left, the office door shut but no part of you wanted to move. And for a moment the two of you stood there. Grasping as close to Rick as you’d probably ever get. Savoring the feel of his rough hands and the masculine smell of his body wash. A hand came up to the back of your neck pulling you away slightly, forcing you to look at him.
“You okay?” His voice was still quiet, as though the man was still in the office.
You nod, “Do you think-” But as you started to voice your concern, the closet door opened and the bowman rolled his eyes at the sight of you holding onto each-other.
“You two done foolin’ around in there or what” he spat, turning around and peering out the blinds of the office door.
Rick let you go to leave first. Grabbing your bag from its spot at your feet, you brushed past Daryl and made your way to the front of the store. Extremely wary of your unexpected guests.
“What’s on your mind,” Rick asked you in the truck.
“Just thinking about how we can’t trust anyone now,”
You thought about the guys at the bar. The whole Randal situation.
“That could have been… the rest of Randals group. Just thinking about what could've happened if they found us.”
“We would have figured it out. We always do.”
You nod.
“Hey,” you looked back up at the sound of his voice, “We got each other. That’s what matters.” Rick squeezed your knee and you smiled in agreement. Heart fluttering once again at his touch.
He changed the subject.
“So are you done being mad at Daryl now? Andrea said the RV is gettin' a little crowded at night.” He was joking with you. Mostly.
“I guess…”
“We can find some room. Maybe Shane’s tent? Or…you can go back to sharing with Daryl. I know he’s got an extra sleeping mat,” Rick looked over at you with a mischievous smile. Poking the bear. But he wasn’t lying. You had to forgive Daryl at some point.
You don’t answer. Just sigh loud enough to elicit a slight chuckle from the man.
--------------------------
The fire that night was warm. You sat with a blanket wrapped around yourself and a book in your hands. The firelight straining your eyes as you tried to read the small font. Everyone was chatting or eating. Lori cuddled up against Rick who was trying not to watch you from across the fire, except whenever you turned your page he’d glance again and you’d catch him almost every time.
Glenn and Maggie snuggled together beside you. Even Andrea and Shane were joking around.
You figured you should just go sleep in Daryl’s tent. After a quick goodnight to everyone, you made your way to the tent area where a few were brushing their teeth and getting ready for bed. You found the familiar tent that you normally shared. Unzipping it, leaving your shoes right outside. There were two sleeping mats and sleeping bags laid out. A tight squeeze but you always made it work.
When Daryl came to bed that night you pretended to be asleep. Mostly in the hopes that he’d leave you the hell alone. He wouldn’t. He’d probably even try and take your clothes off. Reach into your sleeping bag, unzip it slowly. Graze his fingers up your side, peeling your top off.
Maybe he’d call you a ‘good girl’ if you helped him take your shorts off and moan quietly into his ear. All things he’d done before. Not that you minded. At all.
Something about hating the man who fucked you so well was downright exhilarating. You couldn’t have Rick so you’d settled on Daryl. At least for now. Rick and Lori were a little rocky. You’d eavesdropped on a couple of little arguments. Plus, you knew for a fact that her and Shane had been sleeping together. But for now, the man was off limits. Lori’s having his baby for god's sake. Daryl might have been right, about you being a slut, but you sure weren’t a home wrecker.
Daryl though, he had no one. When you met him you weren’t even sure he liked girls. Or guys. Or anyone for that matter.
In the midst of your little daydream you felt fingertips at your hair brushing it behind your ear.
“You actually sleepin or…” Daryl said rather softly.
“Stop,” you didn’t open your eyes.
“I aint even doin anything’”
“Exactly,”
He paused.
“You wanna go for a walk?” He pulled at the zipper of your sleeping bag. “Hm?”
You turned around to look up at him. Light hair falling into his blue eyes.
“Come on. It’s too crowded in here,” he kept pushing. Tugging on your arm leading you up out of the tent. It was dark now. No more firelight. Everyone in their respective sleeping spots. You could hear a giggle from one.
The brisk evening air nipped at your bare legs.
“You wanna go behind the barn again? Or in the truck this time?”
You rolled your eyes. Didn’t matter really. Either way his hands would be covering your mouth, muffling his name you couldn’t help but moan. He pulled you over to Rick's truck.
Hands already on your hips pushing you down into the backseat. Out on the driveway. A good distance from the tents and from the house. Rough hands roamed your body, rolling your nipples in his fingers as his mouth went to your jaw. He kissed and licked down your neck.
“Daryl come on” you didn’t want him to kiss you. Treat you all nice in bed and then be a complete asshole around everyone else. You just wanted a fuck. That’s it. And he knew it too.
“Just gettin you warmed up...” he muttered into your clavicle. But he started fumbling with his belt anyway. Listening to your pleas. Your hands roamed his biceps tracing their way down the muscles of his arms.
“Wish that’d been me in the closet today-“ he kissed under your ear and ground himself against you, earning a teeny tiny moan. Barely even.
“You wouldn’t have been able to stay quiet” your shorts were being peeled off now. He ran his fingers up your slit. Fuck.
“Can’t control yourself when you’re around me can you?” He positioned himself between your legs and pushed himself into you. A low moan caught between your lips.
“You would've gotten us caught for sure… maybe even given those guys a little show-"
“Come. On. Daryl. “ you pulled his forehead on yours, your other hand going to his shoulder, nails pressing crescent moons into his skin that he’d surely see in the morning.
“Fuck,” he muttered, lips grazing yours. And he did. In Rick's truck. Sweat dripped down his neck. Your legs wrapped around his waist, muffling your sounds by biting his shoulder.
“Let it out,” he whispered in your ear. But you don’t want to. As he pounded into you, that familiar feeling started to form in your gut. Like a knot being pulled from every direction. Every nerve.
“Daryl I-“
He grabbed your left leg and propped it up on his shoulder. Opening you up and deepening his angle.
“Oh god” you pull him back in. Not even caring that he was kissing you now. You kissed back, biting his bottom lip gently. His pace evened back out and you felt yourself come undone, his fingernails digging into your thighs. While you came he leaned back to watch and kissed your leg propped up on his shoulder. He didn’t stop thrusting even when you made a sad attempt at pushing him off of you.
“Stop it’s- Daryl- too much” you pushed at his lower abdomen but he grabbed your hands, roughly pinning them at your sides.
“We ain’t done yet,” you would come again. You knew it. He knew it too. As a rather embarrassing sob escaped your lips, you buried your face in his chest as he finished himself off, and you for the second time. The noises you made escaped your lips with next to zero shame. He’d heard it all before.
At a still, he let your leg back down. Kissing it once more. He pulled your shorts back on gently and dealt with his own jeans and belt.
Sitting up you notice the windows of the truck were all fogged. Without thinking, you drew a smiley face on the window and Daryl chuckled.
“You ok?” he asked gently.
You nod at him.
“About the other night…I didn't mean that I just-”
“It’s ok.” you cut him off and you move your legs to straddle him. You kissed down his neck. Back up to his own ear. The cold air from your breath sends goosebumps down his spine. Rick was right, you had cooled down. No sense in being so angry at a little fight when there were bigger issues in the world.
Hands immediately went to your hips, grinding you down on his already growing bulge. Daryl definitely had stamina.
“One more?” in his ear, you earn a groan and your name escapes the man’s lips.
He flipped you over the console until your legs gave out.
--------------------------
When you woke up to Rick banging on the car door, panic flooded your face. Quickly after noticing that, one: you were alone, and two: you were wearing your pyjamas, you relaxed. Unrolling the window by hand in the ancient pickup, “What?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.
“What the hell are you doin’ in here?” Rick asked with a sweet little grin. Leaning his strong forearms over the open window.
You bit your lip. Trying to think of any excuse.
“He snores. Bad.”
Rick laughed. Still leaned forward. You wanted to reach up and trace the veins on his forearms. Play with his watch. His ring. Anything.
As much as Daryl could help you out, it wasn’t what you needed. Hell, he’d left you to sleep in a truck. Didn’t even have the decency to bring you back to bed. Not a cuddle. Not a forehead kiss. Nothing.
“Why don’t you come inside? Carol made pancakes. They’re really something,”
You rubbed your eyes again, a tiny groan escaped your mouth. You just wanted to go back to sleep.
You ignore his question. “You guys going out today?”
He shook his head, “Gonna stay on the farm, Hershel needs help with that little barn over there. Storm did some damage.” There had been a rainstorm a few nights ago. One of the trees got knocked down and went through the roof of a little barn on the property.
“I can help”
“You could…” he opened the door this time, grabbing your hand gently pulling you out of the truck. “...or…. you could stay inside. Help the Greene’s around the house.”
You didn’t mind them. But you preferred Rick's group. Well, you preferred Rick.
A deep sigh escaped you and you glanced at the house. Lori watched the two of you from the kitchen window as she dried dishes.
“You coming?” Rick let his hand fall from yours when he noticed his wife watching.
And because you would do just about anything Rick says, you nod and follow him up the driveway towards the house.
(next chapter)
#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x y/n#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes smut#rick grimes fanfiction#twd fanfiction#rickyl#sex and zombies
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Pen pals - p. parker (part four)
pairing; TASM! peter parker x fem! reader
read part one, part two, and part three before this!!<3
summary: you land in new york with no difficulties, besides one. you realized that peter was kind of cute, maybe more. maybe sleep would drown your thoughts out?
a/n: hey guys!!! idek how many more parts i’m gonna make. maybe like 3 more. idk. bare with me. i’m kinda just going with the flow. anyway, enjoy reading💗💗
Peter knew that you’d be feeling many things after the flight. Jet-lagged, hungry, tired, and maybe crabby. He tried to prepare the best he could. The 3-hour jump ahead in time for you might take a while to get used to. He had everything waiting back at home.
Peter wanted to be cool and collected. But, he wasn’t. His heart was pounding with worry.
“What if I don’t meet her expectations?”
Peter’s question earns an annoyed glare from May.
“Be serious, Peter,” May lightly smacks his arm, “Y/N flew all this way to come see you. Why would she have any expectations? She clearly likes you for who you are.”
Peter sighs, anxiously waiting by the gate you would come out of any minute now.
“Does she?” Peter asks, “I mean, she doesn’t know I’m–”
May nudges him. “Your girl’s here.”
And there you were.
You had clearly just been sleeping, the squint in your eyes was evidence of that. You had on a basic outfit, athletic shorts, and a baggy T-shirt. You looked even prettier in person, just like he predicted. Peter couldn’t form any words to signify where he was, all he could do was walk toward you, accidentally walking into people in the process.
When you finally notice Peter, he was only a couple of steps away.
You drop everything in your hands, not caring about it going everywhere.
Peter doesn’t even say anything before hugging you. It was a bone-crushing hug.
“You’re real,” Peter says, squeezing you tightly- not planning to let go.
“I’m real,” You sniffle, squeezing him right back.
Peter pulls back slightly, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry,” He coos, “Happy tears, right?”
You nod, looking up at him. His calloused fingers were on your face, taking in every feature.
“You’re really tall,” You laugh, hugging him again.
Peter kind of wants to cry too. Your perfume, soft hair, and warm skin were so overwhelming. It was a good kind of overwhelming.
“May’s waiting for us,” Peter smiles.
You resort to holding Peter’s hand as you grab your stuff and walk over to May.
May was on the verge of tears too. She hugged you and whispered something in your ear that Peter wished he could hear because whatever she said made you flustered.
“Stop it, May,” You laugh, “He’s literally right here.”
You and May were still hugging. Peter raises an eyebrow at May, to which she shrugs and kisses your cheek.
“Shall we go home now?” Peter asks, interlinking your fingers once again.
“Shall,” You snort, walking off with May. Peter follows close behind, holding your suitcase.
The ride to Peter and May’s place was fascinating to you. Peter could see it written all over your face.
“New York is weird,” You look over at Peter while the three of you are on the train.
“The weirdest,” Peter agreed. “One day I was sw– walking around, and a guy in a huge dinosaur costume approached me and somehow knew my name. It was really strange.”
“Hm,” You nodded, resting your head on Peter’s shoulder.
Peter looked over at May when he saw your eyes close. He smirked, and May smirked right back.
When you all made it back home, Peter showed you around.
“There’s the bathroom- and uh, I got you some stuff,” He says shyly, holding up a little box labeled ‘Y/N’s’. “Toiletries. I didn’t really know what to get, so May tried to help.”
You frown.
“What? I thought I was being chivalric here,” Peter grins.
“Did you actually buy me all of this? This is expensive stuff, Peter.”
He looks away, setting down the box. “You’re not gonna want to see my room.”
“Peter,” You sigh.
“Just– come here,” He grabs you by your wrist and leads you to his room.
Peter opens the door to his room, and you’re met with a lot of things. On his bed, he displayed all of your favorite treats, along with a little teddy bear dressed as the Statue of Liberty.
You look at Peter with wide eyes. He can tell that you’re almost on the verge of tears.
“I would’ve bought more touristy stuff, but I figured you might want to do some yourself…” Peter shrugs, leaning in his doorway. “Come here, bug. You look sad.”
“I’m not sad,” You say, voice barely a whisper as you walk over to him.
Peter hugs your shoulders. “What’s wrong, then?”
You fidget with his hoodie strings. “It’s hard to believe that you’re real.”
“I’m real, I promise,” Peter whispers, kissing your forehead.
Peter was doing everything in his power to not confess his undying love for you right then and there.
~
Nighttime rolled around quicker than expected. The first day in New York was mostly spent in the house, but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything. You, Peter, and May played Uno. May demolished you both. Peter swore that it was just a lucky day for her. You laughed, replaying Peter’s frustrated groans in your head over and over again-
Ugh.
That’s the other problem. Stupid Peter and his stupid face, voice, and mouth. How dare he be sculpted like a god? How dare he have such a scratchy, soothing voice? It’s quite literally driving you crazy, and you haven’t even been here for a day.
“Are you sure I can take your bed?” You ask, putting on one of Peter’s hoodies.
He gulped. “Yeah! Yeah- it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Can’t have a pretty girl sleeping on that old couch, right?” He kisses your cheek and grabs his backpack. “Sorry I have to go. Night classes are so stupid.”
“It’s okay,” You shrug, “Are you gonna sleep in here?”
“I can if you want me to.”
You nod, “Can you?”
“Of course, lovie. Go lay down, now. It’s late,” Peter guides you to his bed, his hand on the small of your back. He tucks you in, smiling widely. “‘Kay, bye!”
And then he leaves. You cuddle with one of his pillows, and it smelled like him.
You were so fucked.
~
At around 2 am, you are rudely waken up by something falling loudly and a not-so-whispered curse.
You assume it’s Peter trying to navigate being in the dark after getting home from his class. Wanting to surprise him, you tip-toe down the stairs, and sneak through the living room.
Instead of being met with Peter, you’re met with… Spider-Man?
Wait.
That can’t be right.
Why is Spider-Man, New York’s hero, digging in May and Peter’s fridge, eating everything he sees?
Your first instinct is to back away. Maybe he thinks this is his house. He doesn’t break into houses, does he?
Then, your foot steps on a creaky floorboard, and Spider-Man looks up from the fridge.
You are met with none other than Peter’s wide, brown eyes staring at you.
— read about me and find my masterlist here :3
#tasm peter#peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker#peter parker#mcu peter parker#mcu peter x reader#peter parker smut#spiderman#spiderman atsv#miguel spiderverse#writing#ao3#art#poetry#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#literature#writers on tumblr#poem#writers and poets
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Good to You - Part 1
Characters: Idol Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: Maid AU, fluff, smut
Warnings for this chapter: alcohol consumption
WC: 3.2k
A/N: Hiiiii! This is something I've been working on for a while and now that its finally close to completion I decided to start uploading! Let me know what you think, and if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, which will be up in the next few weeks!
Masterlist
“Byun Baekhyun…” You read the name on the paper, and then you read it again to make sure you’d seen correctly.
The paper you held was from the company you worked for, a company that specialized in cooking and cleaning services, usually for rich families. A few times you’d been sent to the homes of prominent families whose names you recognized, but when you saw his name, you almost couldn’t believe it.
This was Byun Baekhyun, the idol singer. In all your time working at the company you’d never been sent to the home of a celebrity. And although you wouldn't exactly consider yourself a fan, you knew and enjoyed a lot of his music and were still a bit nervous to meet him.
When the day came for you to go, you made sure you were at your best. You were only going to his lavish apartment for a typical day of work, for all you knew, he might not even be there with how busy his schedule must be. However when you knocked on the door, it was him who opened it and let you into his home.
“Hi, you must be y/n right?” He asked, smiling at you as you walked in, looking around his apartment.
You quickly nodded, “Yes, the company told me that you wanted someone to prepare a few meals and do a deep clean, correct?”
You did your best to act professional but this was your first time meeting someone like him, and he was even more beautiful in person than he was in photos and on TV and it was a bit difficult for you to think straight. You also immediately noticed the state of his apartment. It wasn’t dirty, but it was also very clear that he was someone who didn’t have the time to cook and clean like most people. There were quite a few takeout containers you could see, and it was obvious that it had been a while since someone had properly cleaned up. You had quite a day ahead of you.
“Yes!” He answered. “I’ve been really busy lately, and it’s been hard to find time to get groceries, cook, clean, all that. And I suck at cooking anyways, so I thought it could be good for me to hire someone to help. Just no cucumbers please, I really really hate cucumbers.”
The face he made while he said it pulled a giggle out of you. You weren't sure what you expected going into this, but he seemed like a nice guy.
You hadn’t been told anything about getting groceries, so you gave him a bit of a concerned look, but he seemed to catch on right away.
“Here’s my card, for the groceries.” He said, handing you the black piece of plastic. “I know it isn’t really a part of your job description, but could you do that for me? It’s just that it’s a bit difficult, going out and whatnot…”
You knew what he meant, and you smiled. “Don’t worry about it, it's no big deal. I’ll leave the receipt on the table for you?”
He nodded, “I have to get going, but I’ll be back before your shift is done. Thank you again.”
You had to catch yourself when you realized how hard you were smiling and blushing at his words. He hadn’t even said anything that was worth getting so shy over. He was just so pretty and seemed so nice.
Once he was gone you got to work, starting with all the takeout containers strewn around the apartment. You threw them out, and when you looked into his fridge you understood why he needed someone to get groceries for him. All you saw were more takeout boxes, some soda, and a few condiments.
You went room to room, doing whatever you could to make things nice and clean and tidy for him. He didn’t appear to care much for pricy decor, with most rooms only containing the necessities. The most expensive room in the apartment by far must’ve been the one with his PC setup. He definitely seemed to like his video games. You made sure to put extra effort into organizing the mess of cables and getting rid of all the dust covering his fancy computer.
The more you looked around the more it surprised you how down to earth he seemed. The place was nice, quite big with floor to ceiling windows facing the river, but it didn’t feel nearly as lavish as most of the homes you went to for work. Baekhyun didn’t seem to care for anything showy or opulent. The only thing you found that came close were a few plaques from his record label congratulating his solo success, but even those were humbly sitting on his bedroom floor, leaned against the blank wall. You weren’t sure what you expected from someone like him, but you were definitely surprised to say the least.
When the time came to get groceries, you tried to go for popular and healthy Korean dishes, and things you could make a lot of at once and easily store to be heated up later. You even found yourself googling foods he likes, and threw in a few nice looking cartons of strawberries for good measure.
Back at his apartment you got to work preparing some of the food. You chopped up the strawberries, putting some into a nice bowl on the dining room table, and when you were almost done with what you were cooking you heard the door open as he walked back into his home.
You blushed at how pleased he seemed to be with your work. He smiled as soon as he saw what his apartment looked like, complimenting you almost immediately.
“I really can’t thank you enough, this place hasn’t looked this nice in a while, and the food smells amazing. I don’t know why I didn’t do this earlier.”
You found it difficult to answer him, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of someone as gorgeous as him. You simply spoke a few small “thank you”s as you got all his food arranged nicely before bringing it to him.
You were about to leave when he asked you to sit down with him, thanking you again for your work and telling you how wonderful the meal was. You didn’t object, he seemed so sweet that you found yourself excited to stay there with him a little longer, even though it was technically still work. You found it a little disappointing that your time with him was coming to an end anyway, he’d been a joy to work for.
“Could you come and do this more often? I know it's supposed to be a one time thing but it would be so helpful for me to have someone to help with this kind of stuff regularly.”
“Oh, well you could just book weekly services but they would probably send someone else.”
“Could I not request for them to send you or something?”
“I’m not sure, since we don’t really do regular services I don’t know how that would work.”
He pouted a little, “I’ll call tomorrow. In case they can’t help me, can I have your phone number? I’d feel a lot more comfortable making this a regular thing with someone I know I can trust.”
You nodded, and he handed you his phone to put in your number.
It felt weird giving your phone number to someone like him. Of course this arrangement was strictly professional, but the idea of him wanting you back in his home more often was daunting nonetheless. When you first saw his name on that paper you definitely never thought you’d be seeing him more than once.
As soon as you handed the phone back to him he sent you a text. A strawberry emoji. You tried not to blush and smile too hard again.
Before sleeping that night you thought a lot about him, and you wondered where this might take you. If he really did want you in his home regularly, you were going to have to set up some hard emotional walls because you knew that without them, you’d only get yourself hurt in the end. Falling for someone like him was too foolish and too easy.
When you woke up the next morning there was a text from him waiting for you.
“I called the company, but they just recommended a different company that does weekly visits. I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you’d be interested in working for me independently, I’d be sure to make it worth your time.”
You asked him about the details, how much he was willing to pay, how often he wanted you there, and what responsibilities you’d need to fulfill, and in the end you couldn’t say no. Aside from the grocery shopping he didn’t expect any more of you than the company did, and he was willing to pay you quite a bit more, and in cash.
So, you agreed to basically be his new housekeeper, long term. Living in Seoul as a single woman wasn’t always easy, and this new job, despite how intimidating it was, was too good to pass up. You’d get to work less, and finally have some of the extra money you’d been yearning for. Maybe after your first few shifts you’d even be able to take yourself on a little shopping spree. You were thankful that you’d been the one sent to his home the day prior, and you were proud of yourself for doing such a good job that he wanted to keep you around. He was so much nicer than most of the customers the company gave you, too.
Your next few shifts with him went more or less the same as the first had. He just needed you to do the same basic household chores he didn’t have time for, and he usually wasn’t there while you worked anyway. He even gave you a spare key.
When he was there, he was always very sweet to you. He made it clear that he wanted you to feel comfortable there, and he usually did a good job of putting you at ease. He just seemed like the kind of person who always knew what to say to lighten the mood.
It was still hard not to feel shy though. It had been a while since a man as beautiful as him had shown you such kindness, and you had to try your best to keep your emotions at bay. No matter how kind and considerate and handsome he was, he was still your boss.
This made it all the more difficult when at the end of your fourth day, he insisted that you sit down and have dinner with him.
“Do you have any plans for your days off?” He asked, pouring you a glass of wine.
You hadn’t had any alcohol in months but you didn’t want to tell him no.
“Well… I might do some shopping, it’s been a while since I’ve had any extra money to spend.” You responded, voice quiet and shaky.
Why did it have to feel so impossible to talk to him? It had been so long since you’d sat at dinner with a man, and now with Baekhyun sitting across from you, you were starting to feel overwhelmed. He was so handsome and sweet, it almost felt unfair to have to be around him so much without getting to touch. You took a big drink of your wine.
Baekhyun smiled at your words, watching as he swirled the wine in his glass.
“You know the reason I decided to hire you privately right? Having random strangers coming to my home all the time means more people who could sell my address, or other personal information. I was honestly nervous enough when you came the first time. But I’m really glad that it worked out so well with you. You’re an enormous help, really.”
He’d started talking with his eyes still fixed on the wine in his glass, but as he spoke they shifted to you.
You stayed quiet for an embarrassing amount of time, not quite sure what to say back. You also couldn’t help but notice the slight stain the wine had left on his lips. They were perfectly pink, and so pretty. They looked so soft, too. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. With those lips, he must be an excellent kisser.
“Y/n?”
“Sorry!” You tried to snap yourself out of it, realizing just how obvious it was that you were staring. He let out a soft chuckle. He must be used to this, seeing women get all flustered around him. “I’m just really tired…” you lied, still trying to play off your moment of weakness.
He gave you a concerned look. “Sorry if I’m keeping you late, you can head home if you’d like, I just thought it would be nice for you to be able to eat some of the food you’re always preparing here.”
“No it’s okay!” You quickly blurted out, immediately regretting how desperate you sounded. “I mean, it’s fine, really. This is nicer than my place anyway, and you’re right about the food.”
You focused your attention back on the bowl of stir fried pork in front of you, fearing that you’d lose your last string of sanity if you started staring at his stupidly perfect face again. You didn’t need that kind of embarrassment.
“You don’t have to be shy.” He said, and you immediately went red. Of course you were shy, when he looked and acted the way he did. “I’d like it if we could get to know each other better, if that would make things easier for you.”
You couldn’t help but smile down at your food as his words reached you. You’d like to get to know him better too, but was that really a good idea?
“I don’t know…”
“I promise I don’t bite.” He said softly, dipping his head down to once again catch your eyes. “I just want you to feel comfortable here.”
Baekhyun already found you quite endearing. He realized that it was probably just who he was that made you shy, but he still hated for you to seem so uncomfortable in his home when he was around. He figured if this was going to be a long term thing, it would be best to get comfortable with one another. Baekhyun was the kind of person who hates awkwardness, and he definitely didn’t want that in his home. And you were sweet, so he made you a proposition.
“How about we have meals together more often? It gets a bit lonely here anyway, if I’m home while you’re still here we could sit and eat together, so you get some time to sit down and relax too.”
You wished you could hide the redness of your face as you felt how your cheeks burned in response to him. He was making this very difficult for you.
“Okay.” You said quietly, and your eyes shot to your wine glass when you saw Baekhyun start to refill it. “Oh- Um, I don’t want to be rude, but I hardly drink, and I’ve already had a glass and still need to get home.”
Baekhyun immediately stopped, “Sorry, you don’t have to drink it. I could order you a car to get home though, or I could drive you, I’ve only had half a glass. I just thought it might help you relax, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here all the time, just because you work for me doesn’t mean we can’t talk or be friendly, right?”
“I guess that’s true…”
“So is there anything you’d like to know about me? Anything at all?”
He was leaning towards you now, looking at you expectantly and you once again thought that your brain might shut down. To avoid another terribly awkward silence, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. He did say that you could ask anything, after all.
“So being an idol, that’s a lot of work right? Do you like it?”
He let out a light chuckle, and you realized what lengths you would go to if it meant you got to see him smiling like that again.
“Yeah, it can be a lot, back to back schedules get really exhausting, not to mention touring and all that, but I also can’t imagine anything more rewarding.”
You finally let your eyes meet his and he gave you a small smile before continuing.
“I could get into that but I’d probably just sound like a self absorbed asshole so I’ll spare you, but you know how fans of idol groups are. I probably don’t deserve even half of all that love and devotion but it’s still nice to see, you know?”
From the time you’d spent with him so far, you could actually understand very well why so many people loved him so much. He seemed like a genuinely sweet guy, not to mention his undeniable gifts when it came to singing and dancing.
“I think you deserve it.”
Baekhyun cracked a small smile and he watched the wine swirl in his glass once again. “Yeah?”
“I mean why not? You’re great at singing, dancing, all that, and from what I can tell you’re a good guy outside of all that too.”
He was still smiling down into his glass of wine, but this time you swore you saw his cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink. He let out a breath in amusement at your words, and you realized that he wasn’t looking up, trying to catch your eyes like he usually would. Somehow, he seemed to be the shy one now. It didn’t make sense to you how someone like him could become so shy at such a compliment, and from little old you, but it had a flood of emotions running through you regardless. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this way, like a silly teenager. Madly infatuated with the cutest boy in school. Only this wasn’t just some boy, this was a man so beautiful, so lovely, so perfect, that of course he had to be completely unattainable. Yet here you were, as he bashfully gazed down into his glass, pink cheeked at your kind words.
You saw his head tip down a bit further, and his eyes briefly screwed shut as well. He smiled for a brief second, more to himself than to you, but you noticed nevertheless.
“I really appreciate that, especially coming from you.” He said, once his eyes met yours again.
You felt your heart rate pick up a little. Even something as simple as that, was enough to make you feel that lovely giddy feeling in your chest.
You were so fucked
Next Chapter
#baekhyun fic#baekhyun fluff#exo fic#exo fluff#baekhyun#exo#exo fanfic#baekhyun x reader#baekhyun fanfic#exo baekhyun
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Jungkook: Pride (Intro)
In which sometimes you'll have to be reminded where you came from to appreciate where you are now.
Tags/Warnings: Tiger!hybrid Jungkook, Cat!Hybrid reader, strangers to lovers, sort of soulmate AU?, Fluff & minor angst
-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-
"Thank you SO much, you won't ever believe how much you saved me!" Hoseok hugs the tiger hybrid as he takes the plastic bags from his friend. "I just had my hands full the entire day with them all-" The human rambles, but Jungkook waves him off, as he takes off his shoes.
"Don't worry, it was on the way anyways." He reassures, familiar with his friend's apartment's layout at this point. There's little hybrids running around, none older than maybe five it seems- the only older one being Taehyung, a familiar face in Hoseok's apartment since the lion hybrid officially lives with him permanently. Jungkook greets him with a smile, one that's returned silently, as the lion is currently holding onto a sleeping hybrid child on his lap. "Did you wash something in here?" Jungkook wonders, bringing some of the bags in the kitchen.
"No?" Hoseok wonders. "Why?" He asks, putting the groceries away in their respective places while the younger hybrid helps.
"Just wondering." He shrugs, throwing the empty bag into the bin close by. "How come they dropped so many kids at yours this time?" He asks.
"A raid." Hoseok grimly explains. "Underground trading, again. It's the second one this year." He sighs. "There's really no end to it, is there? One gets shut down, just for another to pop up.." He mumbles, watching the children play around.
"It'll get better." Jungkook tries to help, though he himself barely believes it as well. "What's with all the strawberry milk?" He wonders, watching his human friend put all the little juice boxes and bottles of said strawberry milk into the fridge.
"Ah, that's for angel. She doesn't really have a name, so we just call her whatever for now." He says, taking one out before looking at Taehyung, who's still trying to get all the young hybrids to take a nap. "I'll bring her one later, when they're quiet. The kids might stress her out too much. She's not good at handling a lot of sensory input." He explains.
"Another hybrid?" He asks, and Hoseok nods.
"Housecat hybrid. Brought back recently, but the social workers gave no reason as to why. Just said she's back, nothing else." Hoseok sighs, shaking his head. "I'm not sure what has happened to her. She won't talk, seems nice, but a bit clingy. She's alone right now only because of the kids." He explains to Jungkook, who nods.
"You want me to bring this to her?" He wonders, pointing to the tiny snack and bottle of milk presumably for you. Hoseok shrugs.
"Sure. She's in the left guest-room." He tells the tiger, who nods, before walking to where his friend had told him you'd be hiding in. As soon as he gets closer, that smell becomes stronger too- an oddly floral but soft scent, sweet but not too overbearing. It's a nice smell- but nothing he's ever quite noticed ever before.
"Hey- Hoseok asked me to bring you something to eat?" He asks quietly, knocking on the slightly ajar door, before he looks around. There doesn't seem to be anybody there- oh.
There you are.
You're watching him from the corner of the room, wrapped up in a blanket, seemingly having just woken up from a nap. You're nothing he's not seen before- a standard cat hybrid, maybe a bit on the shorter side, but probably his age, give or take a little. But something just seems to pull a purr from his chest, a buzzing feeling making him all warm and soft at the sight of you just merely looking at him. And the moment you yawn, tiny sharpened teeth showing, he's a goner.
You've got him captured, tamed, by doing absolutely nothing it seems.
He sits down a bit closer to you, gives you your small sandwich and your milk. You're purring, loudly so, and he loves the sound of it already. Your lips seem a bit chapped, bitten raw in some spots which seems to be due to nervousness and stress- and it's understandable. Not only have you been given away and removed from your home, but you've been basically betrayed and brought into a hectic environment that's probably not the best option for you.
Jungkook has always wanted to do something good for a bigger cause. Maybe he's just found his chance of doing so.
You remind him of himself, in a way. You're not scared, rather curious- quiet, but not dismissive, or uninterested. He likes you, clearly, it's pretty obvious that you're his mate even though it makes zero sense as you're a housecat and not a tiger, and he himself isnt even the same hybrid level- but he won't think about that.
He's found you, and he's going to make sure he won't let you down like you've been let down before.
"Figured something like that." Hoseok chuckles, watching how Jungkook opens the bottle of strawberry milk for you, as your tail snaps up a little.
"Huh?" Jungkook asks, his ears twisting and turning a bit in embarrassment as he tries to play it cool.
"Oh, come on now, Jungkook." He laughs. "I already knew something was up when you kept noticing a strange smell." He informs the tiger. "You might be a Level 2 but you're still a hybrid down the line, no matter how independent." He laughs.
"Well- ah, leave me alone!" He growls playfully, making your tail swish from side to side in amusement, clearly happy at the mood in the room. Jungkook himself wants to just pick you right up and carry you home. You're already melting his heart with nothing else but a smile.
"Oh, I will!" Hoseok says. "But I doubt she will now." He teases, making Jungkook smile.
Well he sure hopes you won't.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#bts jungkook x reader#bts jungkook fanfic
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Yes, Honedge!
Something i'd like to point out about its face:
It doesn't have a goofy face, the holes in the scabbard just make it look that way. In reality, it just has a single eye.
With that in mind, could you please do a version without the scabbard?
iiii figured this was common knowledge enough to not warrant an additional form, but alright:
some of the guard disappeared but it's okay. i never even saw that part of the scabbard as a face—the blue eye is very obviously an eye. i don't know if anyone actually thought that was its face. however, i do find it interesting that even after removing the scabbard textures, it still has textures for that "face" remaining:
which implies it's a face more than anything i've seen of the matter before this point
anyway there's so many asks in the box right now so let's just go through all of them:
in order from oldest to newest, here we go:
this is true. most of the models are shiny, unless they have a "colladamax" variant
ahh it's fine. i considered it might have been a request but i also doubted it considering pangoro was literally next so i assumed you were just excited. me complaining about requests was unrelated—another ask i got around the same time
well then maybe it's not a bad thing. you certainly phrased it like one, it seems, but that might just be unfortunate connotations with the way you said it? glad we could clear up the confusion i guess
we do need more snakes, but i also like the bipedal pokémon, as a furry. back when everyone was begging sprigatito not to stand up, i saw through their thinly-veiled furry hate and was begging sprigatito to go against the grain and stand up anyway. and then they did and now meowscarada is one of my favorite pokémon. get fucked, normies (i am sorry for saying this)
↑ i didn't know this until i looked it up! this is interesting. stuff like the male version learning misty terrain but the female version learning more type coverage. this is very strange but i like it. only girls can use magical leaf and charge beam sorry boys
thank you! i can explain it. it is because pokémon are getting very close and staring at you
as for the inspiration for this blog, it was mostly snivy. i remember one day thinking that snivy's big nose would make it look very silly from the front, and being like "damn. someone should compile a list of what every pokémon looks like from the front. damn. that would make a good tumblr blog bc some of those would be really funny. damn. i should do that" and then i did. but that was back in 2020—pretty soon after i ended up starting college which didn't allot me a lot of time for updating this blog, and although i kept swearing i'd go back, somewhat soon after that i went through a breakup and just wanted to take a while for myself. a bit after that, tumblr user sewatari reblogged one of the posts on this blog again (the weedle post, i believe?) and singlehandedly revived this blog by reminding me that they still cared about it. and that's fucking awesome?? tbh?? so thank them for this blog's continued existence. if you scroll waaaayyyy back far enough in the archive, you'll probably see that miniature saga. the images back from the first gen and onwards were a little bit icky as i got grips on how to actually go about this blog and manipulate the models in the right way to get them to work, which is why i can never really recommend folks scroll all the way back in the blog, but it's a look back into my own personal history, i suppose
apologies for breaking the magic, although i don't think anyone keeps up with the "i am a pokémon taking real live pictures of other pokémon with the camera right in their face" lore because no one pays attention to the backgrounds of the images (which used to change much more than they do now, but that's just because no one ever noticed or pointed them out. the background is not the focus of the image—it's the pokémon itself; thus, why look at the background? staging the pokémon in a setting used to be important to me, but now i don't worry about it and cycle between the same few backgrounds) or the asks, really. it's the commentary in the tags everyone comes here for, of course
she's a fully-grown woman with a house
then you'll love the top of this post
they probably wouldn't think it looks like anything because they aren't familiar with what honedge looks like so they would just picture nothing in their head. or they would just make up what they Think honedge might look like based on its name, or something, and then imagine that front-facing
i don't know which one of these is the real one. but we have some discrepancy here. also apparently this is a wider-spread belief than i thought
OKAY. i think that's all of them. if you read all the way here to the end, that's. powerful. for those of you who stuck around this long, i'm live right now with a test stream having some breakfast and playing pokémon. come join in, if you're bored this morning!
edit: it's over but i'll probably do it again some time, more likely at a more reasonable hour next time. considering the idea of doing a fully voiced pmd series—perhaps that'll be the next stream. or i'll leave another test one for it. who knows!
#not pkmn#nose ratings#extremely long post under the cut#i missed a few days of these so you're getting them ALL at once#the test stream probably won't be anything interesting btw. so you're not missing out if you don't show up#probably. who knows what i'll do. maybe i'll queue up the next set of pokémon live on camera. or maybe i'll fail at some tera raids#or maybe i'll find a random full-odds shiny in sv. or i'll go shiny hunting or something. y'never know!!#also fun fact apparently if you edit a tumblr post with a readmore‚ it moves the readmore down every time you edit it#why? no idea
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