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lovebugism · 1 year

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hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but can you do something smutty with steve in season 3 w his scoops ahoy uniform on after he gets home from work or something🙏🏼🙏🏼

like sub!babygirl!steve is so 🤤🤤😽😽 and a

dom!femreader 🫶❤️❤️ AND OMG HE HAS A MOMMY KINK😧😧 I BEG OF YOU

✶ ┄ OH, BABY !

summary: after a long day at work, steve harrington needs someone (*cough cough* you) to take care of him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: sub!steve, brief use of a mommy kink, r calls steve daddy like twice i think, mention of a breeding kink, 18+ mdni (ignore any typos, i am way too tired to proofread <3) a/n: hi, it's me again, turning a blurb request into a full length fic. also i can't stop writing for sub steve apparently. all i can say is baby girl is baby girlin real hard in this one lol thanks so much for your request! enjoy xoxo

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

It’s sunset by the time his shift at Scoops concludes. He serves the last few remaining customers while Robin less than kindly ushers out the loitering teenagers that have stuck around all day.

A group of moms clad in vividly colored spandex tells him “we’re being bad today” like some sort of mantra that makes them feel better about ordering plain vanilla ice cream. Some middle school aged girls with a mouthful of braces, crimped hair in pigtails, and absolutely wreaking of fruity perfume and daddy’s money try helplessly to flirt with him while they use a matte black card to purchase a banana boat sundae.

His last customers of the night are an old married couple, all gray and wrinkly and smiling like life’s still so new to them. They order one strawberry cone to share between them and hold onto each other’s shaking, frail hands as they make their exit.

Steve smiles as he watches them go. He sees a lot of you and him in them. He hopes by the time you both are all old and brittle, you’ll still be happy like that, still so in love.

Working in the downstairs abyss of Starcourt makes him feel crazy sometimes. With no windows and only manufactured fluorescent lighting for ten hours straight, it makes time feel less and less real.

Sometimes he’ll be in before sun out and cower like some sort of vampire when his shift is over. Other times, he’ll come out when it’s pouring down rain and be absolutely baffled at the sight of it because it was perfectly sunny when his shift started.

Everything else but ice cream all but ceases to exist in the hole of Scoops Ahoy — weather, time, life.

Even though it’s closing when he leaves, Steve doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten outside until he’s walking through the desolate parking lot to his car. The bustling mall has fallen asleep with the rest of the town. The sky has long turned to a navy velvet, the stars and full moon bright white silk.

It makes his limbs heavy and his eyelids heavier as his tired bones ache for rest.

Steve makes the longer drive out to the cabin rather than his own home to see you. Hopper’s out for some conference which means El gets to spend every ounce of her time at the Wheeler’s and you and Steve get to play house.

He doesn’t bother to knock before he comes in. He shuffles through the entrance like his feet are made of lead and leans his weight against the door after he clicks it closed.

The sound of his arrival gets your attention from where you scurry around the kitchen. A smile pulls slowly at your face as you turn over your shoulder to look at him, placing a cover over a pot of something that smells like your infamous chicken alfredo.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greet with a beam and a sort of sunshine in your voice that Steve’s been missing all day.

His body relaxes for the first time since he got up this morning at the sight of you, freshly showered and in your pajamas for the night — an oversized t-shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you before, because it used to be his.

You look more like home than any four walls could ever be to him.

Steve tries his best to give you a smile in return, but it’s weighed down by fatigue and not all there.

You can see it all over him, every ounce of exhaustion on his lax and tired features. Slinging ice cream for less than grateful customers for ten hours straight has taken an obvious toll on him. The bright blue sailor’s uniform makes him look more boyish, but no less tired — or hot.

Your heart swells at how cozy he looks, fatigued and warmed and in dire need of being taken care of. It makes you glad that you started dinner earlier than normal, even happier that you’ve got the house to yourselves.

You exit the kitchen and walk the short distance to him, taking his scruffy cheeks in your palms and rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks.

“Hard day?” you wonder softly and smile to himself when you feel Steve nestle further into your touch.

The boy hums lowly in reply — neither a yes or a no, but a short hmph that means he doesn’t want to talk about it now. He doesn’t like thinking about work when you’re in his arms and all over him. He’d rather pretend like you’re the only thing that exists and let the rest of the world slip slowly away.

He turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrists. You smell like lavender, he finds, and it makes him that much more tired and needy for you.

His hands settle on your arms, fingers wrapping themselves just below your wrists. “Just tired,” he answers finally. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I’m assuming,” you quip with a smile. Your hands drag from his face, down the tense columns of his neck, and settle at the white lapel of his uniform. Steve lets you pull him down by his red neckerchief until his lips press against yours, the pillows of them far cozier than the bed and blanket he so craves right now.

He grows somehow heavier against you. He exhales deeply through his nose as his aching muscles start to relax, the warmth of it brushes against your cupid’s bow. His hands fall to your back and ball into your shirt as he clutches so ardently onto you, as though terrified he might have to go another agonizing ten hours without you.

Your smile contorts against his mouth. A laugh exhales sharply through your nose at this tired boy, exhausted and too willing to let you swallow him whole.

As much as you want to take care of you him, you want him to get a little food in his belly and fresh clothes on his skin.

He’s got freshly laundered cottons sitting in a drawer you cleaned out in your room especially for him and a pot of his favorite food simmering on the stove. He’ll be golden in an hour or more and you’ll happily take care of him then.

Steve whines when you pull away from him. The pathetic sound bubbles from his throat and his face screws up like you’ve actually pained him by not kissing him more. He ducks down, looming over you, as his lips chase yours.

You giggle at him, letting him kiss you — one, two, three quick pecks and a fourth sweeter, more drawn-out one he presses against you as the two of you stumble back into the living room.

“You need to eat first, okay?” you protest when you part from him again, lips clicking wetly as they separate. “You probably haven’t had anything all day.”

“I had half a banana in the break room at lunch,” he retorts, half-heartedly.

“Exactly,” you scold. “Go get changed and then we can eat, ‘kay?”

“If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you could’ve just said.”

You roll your eyes at him and how he’s still so sly despite being so damn tired. You push playfully against his chest and squirm out from under where he’d cornered you between his body and the back of the couch. “You smell like a sundae and cheap cologne—”

“Blame those assholes from Abercrombie.”

“—hit the showers, Harrington,” you tell him with a playful sternness, swatting him on the ass as you pass by him.

The action stopped surprising him a long time ago. He’d complained relentlessly about corporate and the stupid outfit they made him wear to work every morning until he realized how much you liked it.

After that, Steve figured he could put up with the itching and the chaffing and the weird stares from other mall-goers. As long as it meant you being unable to keep your hands off of him, dropping to your knees in front of him before he left for work, visiting him at lunch because you just had to see him again.

“You comin’ too, or…?” he jokes in reply, already inching towards the bathroom, but secretly hoping you’ll say yes.

You refuse to amuse him, though, and instead tell him that you have to keep stirring the pasta so it won’t burn. He’s too tired and too excited to wash all the muck of the long workday from his body to beg.

You knew just what he needed — like you always do. He’s as good as gold by the time he gets out of the shower, smelling of your shampoo and practically glittering at how good he feels.

His skin gets to breathe for the first time all day when he slips on a pair of boxers and a faded forest green Hawkins High sweatshirt. They’re freshly washed. He can tell by how soft they feel and the way they smell of fresh detergent.

It makes his heart swell.

While he’s been slinging ice cream and questioning all of his life choices, you’ve been washing his clothes, folding them and putting the in their own drawer in your dresser. You’ve been cooking him his favorite dinner, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, because you know everything about him.

You do it all because you love him. You don’t have to think twice about it before you so effortlessly take care of him.

He swears you’ll feed him if he begs hard enough, but Steve hasn’t reached that level of tiredness yet. He does, however, force you to sit halfway in his lap while the both of you opt to eat on the couch in the living room rather than the kitchen table.

A repeat of Miami Vice plays on the tiny television across the room and you tell him about what you’d done on your day off in between shoveling forkfuls of pasta into your mouth with your legs slung into his lap.

Most of it was spent taking care of chores, a feat made harder without Hopper and El to take on the extra workloads but easier because their absence meant less shit to get done.

You drove Dustin and Lucas to the Wheeler’s house later that morning, then doubled back across Hawkins when Max called and all but begged you to free her from the hellscape on Cherry Lane, as she so lovingly put it. You picked her up and dropped her off with the rest of her friends.

And even though they all swore they had rides back home, they’d called again some hours later and asked too sweetly if you could take them back across town.

You complain and grumble about it, but you do it for them anyway.

Because you take care of people. That’s just what you do.

“So you were a personal chauffeur for a bunch of kids all day?” Steve jokes and laughs to himself as he swipes a smudge of alfredo sauce from your chin with his thumb

“Basically,” you nod in reply.

When that’s all done — and the episode is over and the dishes are in the sink and your teeth are freshly brushed — you tell Steve to get into bed, and then to get his head out of the gutter at the look he gives you after.

He’s pleasantly surprised when you bring a whole basket of things from the bathroom and into your bedroom. He watches silently, obediently, as you light a candle on the far side of the room before climbing into bed beside him.

“Scoot down a little,” you tell him. “And take off your shirt.”

He does it all without question. He rises, strips himself of his top, and tosses the thing mindlessly on the floor beside the bed. With his lean torso and bare chest on display, spotted with tufts of chestnut-colored hair and smelling of your body wash, he lazes back onto the bed again with his head on the pillows.

Steve holds his breathe when you straddle his chest.

“Comfy?” you ask him quietly.

He can only nod in response.

His eyes are wide, twinkling with love and curiosity. It makes you smile. He’s always so soft in his way, so compliant with you — and, fuck, if you don’t love how he looks when he’s underneath you.

You lean down to press a chaste kiss to the chiseled tip of his nose then reach for one of the many bottles stacked inside the wicker basket. You drip the rose-scented liquid onto a cottonpad and tell him that it’s cleanser.

“I thought I was already clean?” he retorts.

“Well, this shit is gonna make ya glow like a baby, Harrington,” you tell him and swipe the stuff up and down his face — across his forehead, along his nose, and around his stubbly jaw. “Which means it’s perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re a baby,” you quip once, then smile lovingly down at him. “My baby,” you correct.

“Damn straight,” he hums with a soft smile, then shuts his eyes when you trade the cleanser for what you call a liquid exfoliator. He doesn’t ask what that means. He doesn’t say much of anything really, because he’s enamored with the way you dote on him.

Your day has been just as busy as his, maybe not as mind-numbing, but still busy. You’ve been bouncing all across town, trying to make sure a bunch of kids weren’t putting themselves in total danger — Steve knows firsthand how hard that can be.

And yet, you keep caring for him, like it’s more important than how tired you must be.

The way you’ve settled on top of him is just a bonus. It’s not as domineering as you usually are in this position, straddling your legs over him and forcing his face between your legs with your fingers tangled in his hair. He wouldn’t have minded if that’s what you’d done in the first place. He would’ve thanked you for it, really.

It’s comforting more than it is anything, the subtle weight of you on top of him, keeping him grounded.

You rub something that feels like lotion into his skin. The tips of your fingers massage his face — they dig softly into his temples, relieving all the strain there, then trace around his curve of his jaw. Steve sighs and melts into your touch. It makes you laugh.

“Look at you,” you giggle, all soft like the moonlight streaming in rays from the windows. Then you tease him. “My baby’s gettin’ all pampered tonight, huh?”

“That stuff smells really good,” he notes. “Think it’s safe enough to taste?”

You know he’s joking, but you flick him in the center of his freshly moisturized forehead anyway, when his tongue darts out the side of his mouth to lick around his lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scold with a laugh. “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to have a kid if you keep acting like one, Steve Harrington.”

The boy's eyes fly open. “…A kid?” he repeats in something short of a whisper.

You only hum in reply with a little shrug like you’re trying to play it all off. Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him and left him to pick up the pieces. Like it isn't the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life (even though you are sort of making fun of him).

“You want a kid with me?” he presses, eyes sparkling and full of hope.

“‘Course I do,” you shrug again, focusing on capping the moisturizer and putting it away rather than meeting his intense gaze. “Want anything and everything with you, Stevie.”

The boy doesn’t bother to hide the grin your words put on his face. He’s all but beaming from where he lays beneath you, trying to make sure he’s still breathing because his heart has started to flutter something fierce.

It was something the two of you only ever talked about in passing — usually him bringing up the idea of having kids and you swatting them all down.

“We’re too young,” you tell him. “We’re too broke”, “we’re too dumb.” The occasional “my dad is literally in the next room, he’ll kill you if he hears you talking like that” shuts him up real quick.

But here you are now, telling him you want a baby with him, that you want everything with him. It drives him absolutely insane.

“Yeah?” he hums in response, idle hands rising and settling upon your bare thighs, rubbing at the smooth skin there, petting you almost. The room gets suddenly and unbearably hot with the look he gives you, innocent and knowing and hungry.

You feel him shift from underneath you, the hardening cock in his boxers making it hard to stay as comfortable as he had been.

“You wanna be a mommy, honey?” he all but coos. “Wanna take care of our kids like you take care of me?”

Though his words set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the tone of them makes you roll your eyes. It’s like flipping a light switch when it comes to Steve. It takes next to nothing to turn him into a puddle of mush.

He’s always raring to go when it comes to you, and you’d be lying if you said it was totally invigorating.

“What happened to my sweet, sleepy, baby Stevie, huh?” you tease, hands leaving his face to caress the ones he’s got resting on your thighs. “Thought you were too tired?”

He shakes his head defiantly. “Never too tired for you.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you scold with bubbly laughter when you feel his large hands trail up your legs. His finger falls beneath your shirt, the tips of them sneaking into the rounded hems of your underwear, all but cupping your ass to drag you further up his chest.

He’s practically salivating at the mere thought of tasting you. Of knowing that the only thing separating you from him is a couple of inches and the thin fabric of your underwear.

He knows that when he slides them to the side, you’ll be wet and needing him underneath, slick enough for his tongue to slip right in.

And, truth be told, oral sex wasn’t the easiest when you weren’t alone. It was too precarious of a position. If Hopper knocked on the door and barged in hardly a moment later, you needed to break away quickly.

So when your dad and little sister were home, it was easier to use your hands to get each other off. And, maybe, if Steve was real good, you’d let him fuck you.

But his mouth on you? There wasn’t enough good he could be for you to let him do that, not when your father was on the other side of the door in the living room. Because you’re pretty sure death would be easier than your dad catching Steve Harrington giving cunnilingus to his daughter. You’re pretty sure you’d die on the spot, anyway.

But Hopper is miles away. Your sister is on the other side of town. And you’re alone with your boyfriend, hidden away in a cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s the perfect recipe for the best sex of your life.

“Don’t care,” Steve murmurs, pressing kisses to the inner parts of your thigh when he settles you more intently over his shoulders. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” you croon. From below you, the boy notes the arched brow and knowing glint in your eye that usually means trouble. “Daddy wants to make mommy feel good, huh?”

Steve knows exactly why you said it. Why you chose to say it like that. It’s the same reason you brought up the kid thing in the first place. Because you knew it would drive him crazy.

And it’s not like you ever had to try to make him mental, all you really had to do was walk into a room and he was done for. But you didn’t just want to just make him go insane, you wanted to ruin him.

And you know you’ve done just that when a groan spills from his mouth and two strong hands dig rather ruthlessly into your hips. He pulls you down without warning, pressing your clothed pussy closer to his face and dragging his nose between your covered lips. A moan leaves your mouth in a heavy exhale when the tip of it nudges your clit.

“Like being called daddy, huh?” you tease through bated breaths.

Steve nods in reply as he hooks a finger through the hem of your panties and slides them to the side, putting your pretty, glistening pussy on display for him.

He was right about what he said before — you were soaked.

All but drunk on the sight of you, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh. “Like the other thing, too,” he mumbles against your skin, like he’s hiding himself there.

“The other thing?” you question with pinched brows. The confusion ebbs like a rolling tide as you realize: “Oh. You wanna call me mommy, Stevie?” you ask with a joking lilt.

“Shut up,” he groans against you.

He’s pleasantly surprised when your hand grabs the strands of his hair like reigns, pulling him back just before he puts his mouth on your pussy. He’s even more stunned at the stern expression taking over your features, not nearly as playful as you’d been moments before.

Suddenly you’re ten feet tall, and he’s nothing more than an ant, at the mercy of your boot.

“That’s no way to talk to your mommy, is it, Stevie?”

He shakes his head with glazed over eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry… what?”

There is an underlying tone in your voice, something teasing and yet somehow serious all at once. It’d make him roll his eyes if he weren’t lying beneath you like this. Now, with your pussy mere inches from his face, he isn’t quite sure how to be anything but obedient.

“Sorry, mommy,” he corrects.

A flip switches and you’re smiling again. “Good boy,” you praise and it makes his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. Your hand guides him to your pussy again.

Steve’s always been good at oral. A little too good, actually. It made you jealous sometimes, to know that his technique has been perfected over years of experience.

“All the other girls were just practice for you, honey,” he’d soothe your seething rage with a wink and a tongue shoved deep into your cunt.

You believe him now, that every other girl was just an obstacle for him to get to you, because no one’s had him like this. No one will ever have him like this.

You’re the one who’s got him on his back with his mouth on your pussy. You’re the one who’s got him calling you mommy.

And it makes you feel like a fucking giant.

He wastes little time to envelope your cunt with his mouth. You feel the muffled grunt he lets out at the tangy and familiar taste of you. His tongue pushes into your cunt, licking you with the intent of devouring you entirely. His nose presses intently against your clit, prodding the little button as you ride his face. He encourages every thrust, guiding your hips up and down his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you whine and feel him smile drunkenly against your pussy, never ceasing his assault against your sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, suddenly too heavy to hold up. Your gaze settles on the ceiling, though you’re not exactly looking at it, and moans fall from your open mouth and into the heavy air — billowing laments in the moonlight.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur to yourself, but to him especially, knowing he turns into a ticking time bomb when he’s praised. “Always make mommy feel so fucking good, baby.”

He groans against you, and it makes your hips twitch over his face.

Your head turns and your glazed over eyes fall on the hard cock trapped in his underwear. It’s more than apparent against the thin fabric with a wet patch of precum darkening the plaid cotton. The sight of it, paired with his lips wrapped around your clit, makes you moan most pitifully.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “You’re gonna make me come. Holy shit, baby— gonna come so hard in your mouth.” The promise makes Steve double his efforts against you, wanting nothing more than to taste every drop you can give him. “I’ll ride you after, 'kay? Make you come so hard you can’t see straight. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

You figure his muffled whine is an affirmative.

“If you make me come now, maybe I’ll let you come inside me—”

You barely get to finish your sentence before Steve’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face. His tongue works overtime inside of your cunt, attentively flicking against every part of your velvet walls that it can reach, while his nose nudges your clit most relentlessly.

It has you reaching your climax within seconds, hips jerking against him while his hold on you tightens. Steve only lets you go when he’s certain you’ve ridden out every inch of your orgasm.

You’re shaking and half-numb when you unfold your body from his and settle next to him on the bed. You press yourself over him as your lips swallow his, tasting yourself on his mouth that glistens with you.

Your torso is splayed over his bare one, knees digging into the mattress at his side as you arch your back to push yourself further into him.

“Was that good for you?” he mutters after you’ve pulled away, sliding the tip of your nose up and down the bridge of his.

A laugh escapes you in a sharp scoff. If he couldn’t have felt how good it was for you — after you all but writhed against him — surely he must’ve tasted it dripping like honey from your cunt.

“It’s always good,” you assure him, then murmur more quietly, “Always so good for mommy.”

You keep the promise you’d made him no more than minutes beforehand. You pull down his boxers at the same time he’s trying to get you out of your shirt, and it’s just a mess of yearning limbs until the both of you are naked.

You rub yourself over his cock a few times, getting it all slick with you in the place of lube, because you know taking him is never an easy feat. The stretch of his dick inside you is always delicious but fuck if it doesn’t burn. It’s like fire in every sense of the word, hot and filthy paired with a distant ache.

Steve lets you set the pace as you get used to his length nestled deep inside your velvet. His hands rest compliantly on your hips as you grind against him, honeyed gaze fixed on your fucked out features as you take him — brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Then, when every inch of him is snug in your cunt and your senses return to you, you deny him of his want to touch you. Your fingers wrap around his wrists and push them into the pillow on either side of his head. “Mommy didn’t say you could touch her, did she?” you purr to him as you lean over him. He shakes his head obediently, if only it meant that you kept fucking yourself on top of him.

And you do. Most ardently.

You keep your bare chest pressed against his fuzzy one, nose-to-nose as you slide your hips over his. And even though he’s had you like this before (in this position and many others), it feels brand new every time. It’s like he’s never felt you before despite how familiar you feel.

It triggers his body into a sense of fight of flight, as though frightened he’ll never get to have you again. It leaves him fucking you like it’ll be the last time he’s inside you, every fucking time.

It never is, though — obviously. Most times he only has to wait a couple minutes or more before he gets to take you again.

But now, with his hands balled into fists beside his head and your’s braced on his chest, digging into the patch of hair there as you rock back and forth on his hard cock — the tip of it nestled deep inside of you and hitting every sweet spot that makes you keen — has left him an absolute wreck beneath you.

He’s chasing his pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Like he won’t feel it again.

“Your cock feels so good, Stevie,” you moan above him.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby,” he mutters between harsh and labored pants.

“’S okay… I want you to come,” you promise and press a too sweet kiss to his swollen, pink lips. You move your hips more intently over him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out in something short of a whimper. His eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed and it takes everything in him not to fuck up into you — because he wants to be good, he wants to be good for you.

“Yeah… Want you come in me… Fuck me until it takes,” you babble over top of him, knowing exactly what it’s doing to the whining boy beneath you. “Wanna give you a baby— fuck— I wanna make you a daddy, Stevie.”

A whine spills from his throat. His toes curl into the fabric of your comforter, eyes rolling back into his head, body tensing as he digs his fingers into the skin of his palms that still ache to touch you.

Your name spills from his mouth along with a string of curses and pretty little cries when he stuffs you full of his come.

You happily accept every load he shoots into you as work him through every aftershock of his orgasm. Yours doesn’t come so easy — you roll your hips over yourself and rub your clit until you’re twitching right along with him.

You come down from your highs together with a tender softness. You lay over him, one hand combing through his curls and the other stroking softly at his sweat-slicked bicep. You watch with heavy eyes as his orgasm rolls over him.

His chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, stuttering when another pang of pleasure hits him all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he whines harshly into the heavy air.

He’s happy you don’t deny him when his arms wrap around your waist, hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your slick back.

You press tiny kisses to his face as he comes down — his nose, his cheeks, his forehead his stubbly chin and jaw. You press one, two, three pecks to his lips before you slide off of him, then laugh when he whines.

You’re gone for hardly more than three minutes, but to Steve, it feels like an eternity’s gone by.

You return from the bathroom, wiped freshly clean, and blow out the nearly burnt-out candle on your dresser before you slither back into his side. One of his arms curls beneath your shoulders to pull you closer to him with his other rests on the back of yours that’s settled on his chest.

You share one pillow, noses inches away from one another’s, while you bask in the warm moment and the sex-coated air around you before you have to break it.

“You know I’m still on the pill, right?” you ask him.

He nods.

“And that we’re—”

“Way too young to have a kid right now?” he finishes for you, though the idea makes him sad. He nods.

“Yeah… And—”

“Too broke? I know that too.”

“Also my—”

“Your dad would kill me if I got you pregnant?”

It makes you laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d talked about having kids this many times — at least, not enough for him to memorize all the reasons why it’s not the best idea right now.

“Yeah, I know it’s not happening any time soon,” Steve says with a sigh. “I like to pretend, though. Plus, it’s not even about that to me, you know? I just… I just like being with you and… everything.”

Everything, you repeat to yourself. A word that means so much and nothing at all.

No one knows what everything means, they just know that it’s a lot, a whole lot. That’s what makes it so special. Steve wants it all with you — the overbearing dad, the sister with powers, the teenage kids who never let you have a single second to yourselves when they’re around.

It’s a lot sometimes, most times, but he’ll weather it all with you.

“You like being with me?” you echo just to see him nod.

He does. “I love being with you,” he corrects.

“Love calling me mommy, too, huh?”

He realizes then, the sincere moment was just a set-up for that stupid joke. He groans and flops his head back on the pillow, but makes no move to distance himself from you.

“Oh, my god,” he moans in annoyance. “Am I gonna have to deal with this the rest of my life?”

You nod. “Sorry, Harrington, but I’m never letting that shit go.”

Good, he thinks to himself, even though he pretends to hate it because it makes you laugh. He never wants you to stop.

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #st oneshots

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sprout-fics · 1 year

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request for ghost 👀 ghost x medic!reader that is basically the opposite of him. super gentle and docile, they’re the sunshine of the team (affectionately named by Soap). ghost is infatuated but refuses to believe someone as good hearted as them could ever be interested in him. like he feels like he’s not good enough for reader but reader is scared of rejection so they also don’t say anything. basically two idiots in love pining for each other

Sunshine (Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN! Reader)

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Explicit mention of murder, blood, and injuries, I have not played any of the games so if Ghost is OOC then shoot me I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary:

“Sunshine” They called you. It was a bit of a misnomer, all things considered. While your sweet, gentle personality was quietly adored off the field, your laser focus and scorching gaze locked that part of you away on mission. Soap had teased you once in the early days as you stitched his arm in a safehouse, saying you had the sweetest, gentlest touch on a medic he’d ever felt.

“Feels like fuckin’ sunshine, corporal.” He slurred, heavy off painkillers as you tended to the bullet in his shoulder. “Best hands I’ve ever had on me.”

You had given him a sharp pinch for the innuendo, but the nickname had stuck anyways.

It had taken some time to earn the trust of the group. They had been burned one too many times to take in a new member without a healthy amount of suspicion. It was only after you had managed to patch them up half a dozen times each that they grew accustomed to your steady, reaffirming presence.

Most of them, at least.

Ghost was a quiet one, living up to his name as he lingered in the shadows, haunting like a specter at the corner of every scene. When he spoke, it was only to issue orders, to patch into the comms and relay intel. Like a wraith, his broad form occupied the corner of your mind, his voice a rough hard scrape like soot against your fingertips. His eyes watched you from afar, deadly, precise, ever true to his aim.

You never see his face.

“Don’t worry, he’s just got a bad chin.” Soap whispers conspiratorially to you as you both lay low over a rooftop that looks over your target. “Like one of those goddamn Hapsburg royals.”

“I doubt that.” You snort, eyes never leaving your scope.

Still, you do wonder sometimes. You can’t help it. There’s something inside you that gravitates towards him like being pulled in by a black hole. The very presence of him draws your eyes to his, dark, unflinching, cold. Sometimes you feel like he can see straight through you, as transparent as a phantom.

“Sunshine, on me.” He barks, and damn if you two don’t make quite the duo- bright sunlight and a dead man walking.

The only times you get glimpses of him are when he’s injured, which is rare. You pull up his sleeve to reveal his forearm, thick, muscular, veiny. For a moment you want to trace your fingers over it, nails scraping against the dark ink in contrast to his skin- a skull.

Ghost’s eyes never leave you as you work, and you don’t notice the way his gaze lingers over your lips, your lashes.

You talk to him as you clean the cut- a sharp slice of a knife from a terrorist who got too close. He had been a step to your left, and you had raised your gun but Ghost had gotten him first. You didn’t even realize the hulking soldier was in your shadow until his knife was buried into the man’s neck and a curse tore from his throat at the blade lodged in his own arm.

The blood drips red across your gloved fingers as you try to distract him from the pain, and yourself from the strange flutter that echoes low in your stomach. Inside, you try to quell whatever this is- this want, this need inside you for him to be even closer, to hear his voice whisper across your skin.

Your nimble fingers work over the wound, neatly gathering the edges. It’ll leave a scar, and you wonder for a moment just how many he has, exactly. What are the stories that tie them to his flesh? The history woven into the sinew of his muscles?

“I’m sorry.” You offer, and your voice is quiet somehow, unable to fill the scant space between you. Sorry that you had been too slow, sorry he had gotten hurt as a result, sorry for having feelings despite yourself.

“…It’s fine.” The Lieutenant offers after several long heartbeats. “I’m fine.”

It’s not fine, not really, but you accept his words regardless.

“Thank you.” Ghost manages after you’re done, and his voice is uncharacteristically subdued. His eyes avert from you, as if he doesn’t want to meet your gaze. That shiver inside you swoops low with uncertainty at his hesitation, but before you can part your lips to speak he’s gone as if he was never there at all.

---

It’s only after a close call that is far too close that things change.

The sniper catches you by surprise, having managed to circle around your group and catch you from behind. The bullet goes straight through your shoulder, and if you hadn’t turned to listen to Price just a millisecond prior you know it would have been through your skull. The impact topples you forward onto the rubbled concrete below you, and the world is spinning, ringing as Price is shouting orders seconds before the rapid pop of gunfire erupts around you.

“Sunshine!!”

You try to stand, to reach for your weapon but it feels like your lungs are caught between a hydraulic press. There’s blood splattered across the ground under your hands and it blurs as your vision tries to right itself from the pain. Someone is calling your name but it sounds like it's coming through water, garbled and distant.

The world around you shifts abruptly, tilting on its axis as a pair of thick cut arms lifts you like you’re no heavier than a sack of flour. Hands reach across you, removing the strap of your rifle from your form and you catch a glimpse of the blood that’s soaked through it, dark and glistening.

“Got ‘em.” A voice gravels next to your ear, and it takes you more than one second to realize its Ghost who’s got you slung over his bulking shoulders, his gear digging into your ribcage as you wheeze and try to ground yourself against the nauseating wave of pain that bubbles up your throat, thick and red.

“Go!” Price barks, and you dimly are aware of the fact that he sounds oddly afraid. “We’ll cover you.”

The world is jostling, turning, shifting, and the sudden dizziness of it all crashes over you as your vision turns black.

---

The next hour comes in flashes of black and red, and you learn later that the bullet narrowly missed an artery- a fatal blow. Your entire left side is soaked in blood by the time you wake, but you’re alive, drowsy, laying down on a cleared off table at the safe house with the dusty kitchen light shining brightly down on you.

You hiss at the brightness and try to move to press a hand to the wound, only for an iron-rod grip to settle your wrist back onto the flat surface under you.

“Don’t.”

You blink for a few moments, turning your head to meet the white skull mask next to you. The lieutenant looks comically too large for the chair he’s sitting in, and with his size his gaze is still above you, gazing down with that unblinking stare

“You lost a lot of blood.” Ghost relays calmly, his grip still on your wrist. It’s nice, the warmth of his hand spilling through his glove onto your clammy skin. “Thought we lost you.”

There’s a tenderness in his voice that surprises you, and you can’t tell if it’s the painkillers helping you imagine it. The fact that he’s sitting here, with you, instead of with the voices that filter in from the other room, should tell you something. Your senses are too cloudy, heavy and weighed down by whatever they gave you for the pain.

“ ‘M not dead.” You manage, voice a hard scrape in your throat. “It’ll take more than that to make me a ghost.”

Maybe it’s the painkiller after all, but you swear you hear him chuckle.

---

You’re haunted after that.

Ghost’s figure is too large for your own shadow, but he stays there nonetheless, dark and omnipresent like a curse. In some ways it is. The constant presence of him forces you to constantly push down that flutter in your stomach, to make sure your eyes don’t linger on his for too long, to not say his name like the soft sigh that it is in your heart. You catch his eyes and feel a rush of warmth creep up your neck under your gear, feel the phantom of his touch skim across your wrist.

You’ve fallen for him.

Fuck.

That itself is not a problem- well, it is, but not as bad as the issue it presents. You can’t say anything. He’s your superior, you’re part of his team, and there are clear boundaries that can’t be crossed in wartime.

More than that though, is the fact that he probably doesn’t feel the same. Ghost has never mentioned anything about romance, even to Soap, who he seems closest with. When you had gently queried the sergeant for intel on the topic he had merely looked at you as if you expected him to know the secret of the afterlife itself. You count your blessings that Soap is dense when it comes to that sort of topic, otherwise he’d be pestering you for weeks about your little secret.

So, you try to contain it, this infatuation of yours, spoon feeding yourself lies about how it’ll pass, how it’s just a phase, that you two were never meant to be. It’s difficult to do just that when he’s always there, crowding into your space like your own personal attack dog, wordlessly present at all times. His eyes trace you as you pass, and you feel the chill of them carve into your bones and leave you trembling and weak.

It's fine, I’m fine. You tell yourself, more than once a day at this point, forcing down the rush of warmth when your eyes meet, when you hear his voice speak your name, when you feel him right fucking behind you.

On top of it all, Ghost starts putting you in the backseat, starts holding you from rooms until they’ve been cleared, and starts treating you like a goddamn rookie. The part of you that is hopeless over him thinks at first he’s being overprotective, watching your six and making sure there will never be a repeat of the incident that nearly cost you your life. You know better than that though, know that Ghost likely doesn’t have feelings for you, that he’s putting you on the back burner deliberately to teach you a lesson over not paying attention- and that pisses you right off.

It takes a while but you manage to corner him back at base after a successful mission where you all but sat on your ass the entire time while he and Price took the lead. You find him lurking in a back hallway, and you can’t contain your uncharacteristic anger as you stride up to him, plant your hands on either side of him on the wall and gaze furiously up at his masked face.

“What.” You grit. “-the fuck was that?!”

Ghost, for what he’s worth, actually looks surprised. The expression is foreign to you, his eyes usually cold and dead, calculating and precise. He stiffens, and even though you barely reach his collarbone with just how gigantic he is, manages to look like he’s actually a bit apprehensive of your stance towards him. In any other situation it would be borderline comical, with how you’re trying to physically intimidate a man much, much larger than yourself, with your arms barely able to box him in on either side.

“Watch your tone corporal.” He replies at last, and there’s a warning in his voice you don’t heed.

“Not until you tell me exactly why you’ve decided to treat me like I don’t know which end of the gun to shoot with.” You snap back, and the look your words earn you is chill inducing. Even so you don’t back down. “You have me being baby-sat during these missions like you can’t trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

The words spill out before he can catch them, and the confession has you both startled and blinking at each other wide-eyed. You feel shock spill across your chest, electric and dazzling for all of a moment. You aren’t surprised at the fact that Ghost trusts you, it’s the fact that he went so far as to say it out loud, voicing a rare instance of his inner thoughts to you in your confusion.

“Then why?” You ask, and you hate the way your voice sounds almost desperate, pleading for an answer.

Ghost stiffens, and you feel his muscles ripple as they brush against you.

“…I couldn’t have you injured again.” He speaks at last, and you know he’s trying to school his voice into a cold indifference, but you can hear the little note of shame there, of guilt.

“I’m going to get injured no matter what. That’s the job.” You point out, unable to contain the bite from your words.

“No.” Ghost manages, and his voice is tight, choked. “Not like that.”

You blink up at him, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in his voice, the way he seems to almost be pleading with you.

Yet your entire world screeches to a halt at his next words.

“Because it’s you.”

Your heart beats against your chest like a trapped bird, and suddenly you’re stumbling back from him, back braced against the opposite wall of the hallway as you try to reconcile his words with reality.

Because it’s you.

“Why…why didn’t you say anything?” You croak, hands coming up to your face to massage your temples. “All this time, you…you didn’t say anything.”

Ghost shifts where he stands, and you know him well enough at this point that he’s fighting the urge to walk away, to blend into the shadow and pretend like this conversation never happened.

“You don’t feel the same.” He says bluntly, voice detached and empty as he braces for what he thinks is your inevitable rejection. “And even if you did, I…don’t deserve someone like you.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, and you shiver at what you find there. Hurt, longing, desire dark and deep and barely tamed.

“You-“ Ghost manages, and you can feel the discomfort radiating off of him, this brute man built like a tank but taken down by a few tender words. “You’re too good, sunshine.”

Slowly, the pieces fit together, like skin mended together by the seam of a stitch.

He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, bright and radiant as you are. You’re sunshine and he’s Ghost, he’s shadows and darkness and blood and the whisper of death with every bullet. He’s afraid that if he even touches you he’ll dye you dark at the seams, stifle that brightness within you.

He doesn’t know that light illuminates the darkness.

“Ghost.” You manage at last, and there’s a laugh on your lips, sweet and bitter all at once. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

You yank him down and kiss him through his mask, and something radiant glows inside you both.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ask box #requests #oneshots

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atxxokirina · 9 months

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Request: Being ronals girlfriend but neytiri having a dark obsession over reader.

Mommies Girl (18+, MDNI)

✮ Neytiri x Fem Reader ✮

contains: cheating, scissoring/tribbing, fingering, yandere neytiri, fdom neytiri, mommy kink, mention of mvrder, slight choking, pls lmk if i missed anything.

na'vi dictionary - yawntutsyìp = darling, loved one (yawn tut syip)

˙⁠ ❥⁠˙

Ever since you became Ronal's girlfriend, you felt eyes everywhere. Of course that was to be expected with you dating the Tsahík, but lately, you'd been sensing an extra pair burning a hole through you. Not to mention you've gained a.. stalker? More like a secret admirer. You would tend to find small gifts placed in your hut. Necklaces, bracelets that consisted of your favorite colors, and even handmade tops.

But the most odd "gift" you received from this person was their strands of hair.

No, not just a strand, an entire chunk of it.

And each time you'd look around to figure out who, or what it was, the feeling disappeared. "Yawntutsyìp, is everything alright?" Ronal snaps you from your thoughts, rubbing a soft hand on your back. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." You flash a pained smile as she nodded, going back to eating. You sat in the common square, surrounded by the village as they all ate their supper. As Ronal conversed with those around her, you poked around at your food, appetite completely lost.

Unknown to you, your ex girlfriend was the one who's been creeping on you. She found amusement in this, knowing that you're indirectly looking for her. Your relationship together may have been over, but her undying love for you surely wasn't. She sometimes thought about killing Ronal, imagining how she'd execute it, and how you would come running back to her after. As she stares at you from behind, a she feels the urge to do exactly what she's been wishing for since you'd gotten with Ronal. Easy access. All she had to do was stick her blade into her spine and—

Stop. Getting too carried away.

Neytiri reaches for the small note she wrote for you, standing from her seat, "accidently" dropping it in your lap, walking away. You felt a thin leaf land into your lap. Your brows furrow in confusion, checking your sides to see who could have dropped it. You unfold the light emerald colored leaf, reading something written in black ink.

Ultxa si piak säpi pum txal pxiut.

Meet by the back palm tree.

"Hm." You quietly hum, still eyeing the note. "I'll be back soon." You tell your girlfriend, but doubt she heard you. Sighing, you stood up. Making your way to the desolate bunch of palm trees. The sky was dark and the saplings stood tall. You'd be terrified to be here alone if you didn't know any better. "Um, hello? Is someone here?" You call out. After a few moments when no one answers, you grew impatient. Just as you huff and begin leave the area, you feel a rough tug on your hair. "Ow! What the-" You yelped, pulling back from the source and turning your body. Your eyebrows furrow at what you see, body hot. "Neytiri..?" You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Your tone becomes aggressive and cold.

A shit faced smirk forms on Neytiri's face. "The fuck is so funny?" You scoff, face dropping in disbelief. She softly frowns, stepping closer to you and cupping your cheek in her palms. "Hi, baby.." She sighs, tracing her finger down your body. "Oh, I missed you so much." You looked up at her, eyes filled with daze. "H-Have you been, stalking me?" You ask quietly, swallowing back a gulp.

"I wouldn't call it stalking. Just.. random acts of love, hm?" She cocks her head toward you, now running her fingers through your hair, which turns into her pulling your head to her face, crashing her lips into yours. She wastes no time as her tongue slithered it's way into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden kiss, eyes widening as you're pulled into her. As your mouths meet, a wave of shock and arousal washes over you. This is wrong. Fuck, so wrong.

You weakly attempt to push Neytiri away, feeling her smirk against your lips as her arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. The heat rises in your bodies as the two of you moan into the kiss. She walks you back into a tree, breaking the kiss and pushing you down onto the soft moss beneath you. You lay back on your elbows, wiping your mouth from her saliva. She gazes down at you, untying her top and, dropping to your level. She spits on your tummy, sliding her tongue upward, stopping in between your breasts. A small part of you felt hesitant to go through with this, yet you were still having trouble controlling the desire you had for her, considering your past together.

"Neytiri, we shouldn't-" You say with a whimper as she brings a hand up to your tits, circling a finger around your nipples and snaking her tongue upward. Squeezing your eyes shut, you held back a moan, but not for long. The second she began grinding her clothed pussy against yours, you lost control. Bucking your hips up as you pull her closer to you. "There's my dirty girl," She hums, now opening your wet folds and toying with your clit. Neytiri reaches behind her, unraveling the loincloth from around her excited tail and pulling it down. She gives your cunt one last touch, licking your slickness off of her fingers as she sat up. She glances down at your middle, "Take this off for mommy, hm?" Without hesitation, you're sliding the flimsly loincloth down. She smiles, licking her fangs and parting your thighs open, climbing on top of you.

You let out a jagged moan as your clits meet with each other. "Oh fuck.." Your lower muscles contract. "Did you miss me?" She whispers in your ear teasingly, grinding herself on your cunt leans down, pinning your wrists back. "Hm? Tell me baby. Tell me how much you've missed me." She lets out a soft, guttural moan. You mewled, eyes shifting down to where your two bodies meet, the sensation of your juices mixing together causing the woods to fill with low, wet sounds, along with your moans syncing together. "Say it." She snaps her hips, slowing down before coming to a halt. "Say it, or else I'll stop."

You frantically nod. "Y-Yes, yes I missed you.. fuck, please don't stop." You cry out in a low whine. Voice almost filled with shame. You wanted to feel terrible about cheating on Ronal, but you just couldn't. Not right now.

Neytiri inches her face to yours, leaving soft, wet kisses around your glowing freckles. "Gooood girl.." Before going back to humping your cunt, she finds your breasts, scissoring the nub with both of her fingers. You back arches at the matching pleasure, clit growing sensitive as well as your nipples. The sensation of your juices mixing only made you crave more of her. You loved the way she settled and bounced on you. Each rub sent a jolt of electricity throughout your body. "I missed you s-so much mommy," You moan again, forcing your eyes open as you grind your clit along hers.

"Yeah, I know you did." She wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing your airways before slamming you down. "And you know why you missed me?" She began to lick stripes up your neck, leaving marks that will definitely be visible later. "Because you're a slut. You're a fucking slut, yeah? Tell mommy how much you couldn't resist her." You could feel her pussy growing needier, as was yours. Your heart rate increasing. So, so, close to cumming. "I-I wanna cum mommy! Please, please let me cum," you whimper. "No. You're not cumming until you tell me what I wanna hear." She teased, leaning down to your ear, fucking you faster as her moans fill up your lobe. "Tell me you love me." She simply whispers, earning a strained moan from you. "No.. I love Ronal, I can't-" She pushes you down again, lowly growling. "You love her, huh? But you're letting me fuck you? That's some love." She snarles. The pressure was building inside of you. Any word you said came out as incoherent babbles and pleads. "So pathetic.. look at you coming undone for me. Bet that bitch couldn't do this to you, huh?"

"I'm gonna cum soon, and you're gonna do exactly what I said, aren't you?" Neytiri's clit against yours is now slowing down, a more sensual, needy pace. "Yes mommy.." You breathe out, tears rolling down your cheeks from the edging. "I love you, I love you so fucking much.. please, I wanna- I wanna cum so bad!" You whimper, attempting to speed her hips, but to no avail. "Mmmmm, that's mommy girl." She smirks in satisfaction, bouncing against your clit to get you there again.

You're close. So close. Just need one more push, one more thrust. "Cum. Cum for me now." You wasted no time. The tightening coil in your stomach began to unravel, a feeling of bliss that only she could get you to. The two of you moaning in unison is sweet music to your ears. You let out a loud, and long moan, limbs shaking and toes curling. As your high came down, the two of you pant. She crawls off of you, leaving another kiss on your nose. "You know you'll always be mommy's favorite girl, won't you?" You flutter your eyes open, weakly nodding with a whine. "Yes.." You say below a breath. "Mm, I know you will. And I'll always be better than the next one." She stands from her position, finding her loincloth and slipping it back on. "Think of me whenever you fuck your girlfriend, or the next time you try tell her you love her."

taglist: @pandorxxx @sweethoneycn @neytirishottie @sullybrosimp @tsireyafavgirl @teyamsbitch @encephalitis-on-sundays @sassypain @neon-groves @rosyjn

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scandinavianfairytale · 2 months

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Doubt

Pairing: Tony Stark x Millionare Reader

Warnings: A few mentions of sex, but no act itself and a small age gap (7 years) between the reader & Tony 😊

"I think you two would be great together. He works a lot, you work a lot, he's rich, you're rich, he's a nerd, you're a nerd-"

"I get it, Pepper." You stopped your friend who has been trying to set you up with her boss for a few weeks now. She has seen you go through so many boring men that you were rolling your eyes immediately after someone offered a date to you. Experience taught you it will be a dumpster fire.

The last one turned out to be homophobic, ignorant and went into detail how his Christian ex-girlfriend was into public sex. As you listened to him you wondered if it wouldn't have been easier for you to just stay single. So you deleted all the apps and decided that you won't be going on any more dates any time soon.

And now Pepper has been pestering you about her boss.

Tony Stark.

In all honesty, a date with him worried you. He was a billionare, while you just made your first million, and you came from a humble home, still feeling weird and queasy when attending anything remotely fancy. The thought of dating a rich old(er) man confused you. There was a 7 year age gap, which doesn't seem much, but you've been dating guys your own age your entire life. And none of them could've ever imagined being as rich as you. Let alone as Tony Stark.

"Just go out on a date. I'm not asking you to marry him." Pepper pressed. Tony has been driving her insane, working at all hours, meaning that she was also working insane hours. So she figured...maybe if Tony gets a girlfriend, he'll sleep once in a while. And who would be better suited for him than her sharp-tongued and a newly turned millionare friend who was into robots almost as much as he was.

She has been trying for weeks to get you to agree. She didn't worry that much about Tony. If she was to mention a woman, he was on that subject immediately, requesting a date.

You, on the other hand, with your string of very bad dates...you were the tough cookie.

"One date." You stated.

"One date. If you like him, more dates, but for now let's go with one." Pepper smiled.

And then Natasha got involved. The sensual, no holding back friend that also knew Tony was "tasked" with your make-over. Not like in the movies make-over, the kind where she went through your closet and told you what to wear. She pulled out the black dress that was reserved for fancy dinners. Not a first date.

"He's a man. Not like the boys that you have been going out with. You need to pique his interest and you're not going to achieve that wearing those disgusting jeans." Natasha commented as she glanced at the jeans that you were wearing at that moment.

"He's dubbed as the playboy." You conutered.

"That's because playman doesn't exsist. Now go change."

As it turned out, the first date was actually really good. You actually had a good time. Tony picked you up himself and you went to a new art exhibition at the Met, followed by a dinner and a ride home. As you were about to exit his car, Tony took your hand and kissed the back of it.

"Thank you for the lovely time." He said with a smirk.

"Thank you as well. But please, let me get the next one." You smiled back as he let go of your hand.

"Deal. I do hope you forget that you promised to pick the tab."

"I don't forget things, Tony." You smiled before wishing him a good night.

As the weeks went on, you met with him several times. It was always interesting and you spent hours talking and he even made you laugh. You could feel hope and contentment bloom in your chest. That little anticipation whenever he called or texted.

And then it all came crashing down. You noticing that he started getting cold. He was texting less, no face times were requested. It just died down.

"He's busy with work." Pepper told you over the phone. Tony has been holed up in his lab for days, barely getting out of that room.

It's not like you weren't busy as well. You also had a demanding job and a life outside of it. And you understood the fact that he gets sicked into work, you knew from experience, but this was different. It hurt, because you got your hopes up. That he'd be different. And he was, much different than all other guys, but this time around you might've gotten attached. Which has never happened and it made you mad. Mad at yourself for feeling this, mad at him for doing this to you, mad at everything.

"I don't care how busy he is." You responded.

"Just be patient, he has never taken this much time for a woman before."

"That's because he immediately sleeps with them." You rolled your eyes, pacing around your still empty apartment.

"You still haven't slept with him?" Pepper stopped walking.

"Of course not."

"What do you mean of course not?"

"We barely spent 18 hours all together." Saying that aloud made your blood boil. How the hell were you feeling this way after 18 hours.

"You talk everyday, what do you mean it's been 18 hours? And so what?"

"I don't sleep with men I don't know. And if this is how he acts in everyday life, I think it's better I stop seeing him altogether."

"If you gave him a reason to continue trying it'd be for the best."

"If he's not interested in me with what he already knows, sleeping with me is not going to pique his interest. I'm done, Pepper. I'm not the type to sit at home and wait for a man's text. I don't care what his profession or reason is. This isn't me, nor is this my style."

You hung up the phone and angrily stared at the blank walls and the pile of boxes waiting for you to unpack them.

I can't believe that I'm feeling bad because of a man. You groaned before taking off your jumper and started unpacking. You put your phone on silent and threw it in the bedroom, away from your reach. You noticed how much it put you in a bad mood when you saw 0 messages from Tony.

It must've been a couple of hours when the doorbell broke your concentration. You made significant progress as almost all the boxes have been unpacked. In all honesty, you were mildly annoyed that you were abruptly taken out of your flow state as only 2 boxes remained.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Tony asked as you opened your front door, getting startled as you saw him standing there.

"What are you doing here?"

"You were not taking my calls. Can I come in?" He didn't wait for your answer and entered your apartment.

"I've been unpacking. And also that's rich coming from the man that has been steadily ignoring me for the past two weeks." You rolled your eyes.

Tony started opening your kitchen cabinets, looking through them. "Do you have any coffee? I could use a cup about now."

"You're not staying that long. And my coffee would be wasted on you." You snatched your speciality coffee from his hands.

"Why are you angry?"

"Because you showed up at my door, entered my apartment without my permission, and are now snopping around my personal things."

"You were angry before that." Tony pointed out and leaned on the windowsill.

"I was annoyed. Now I'm angry and annoyed." You glared at him.

"Okay. Why were you annoyed?"

"Because I feel like you're playing games." You confronted him.

"Regarding?"

"Me."

"I'm not playing games. At least not that I know of. Do you want to play?" Tony smirked and winked at you, making you roll your eyes. "Can you tell me what's got you upset?" He crossed his arms.

"It's been two weeks since we spoke. And then you show up at my place, accusing me of ignoring you."

"I was busy at the lab."

"I understand. I get how quickly you can get sucked up in work, I've been there. But I've never ignored someone I was interested in. A clear deduction from that is that you're not interested in me. Which is fine, but then you don't get to show up at my place, demanding attention. You don't get to act hot and cold and expect me to go along with it. I have an ego too. And also you pride yourself with being direct however you love playing games. There are hundreds of women who would love to play games with you, but I'm not one of them. I take no pride in becoming one of the notches on your belt."

"Great speech, a couple of things, though, if I may correct you." Tony straightened and walked towards you slowly. "I am interested in you. That's a given. How could I not be? Secondly I am direct and as such I can tell you right now that the reason why I was holed up in the lab for two weeks with no contact was because I needed to finish something before focusing on you. I want to spend more time with you. Take a trip or two." He paused for a second. "And have sex with you."

You let out a snort, feeling your face heat up slightly.

"Lots of sex." He was standing right in front of you, staring into your eyes. It made you insanely nervous, making your skin crawl, but in a good way (?).

"You made your point." You found your voicebut you knew it sounded breathless.

"Did I?" Tony asked before tipping your chin up and kissing you.

It was such a good kiss. God, you haven't been kissed this good in such a long time. Your hands pulled at his collar, trying to bring him closer to you, and together, you stumbled backward until his hand extended behind you, slowly pushing you into the kitchen wall and preventing your head colliding with the hard surface.

As you separated to catch a breath, Tony stared at you. "Still doubting my interest?"

"No." You replied firmly before reaching for him again.

Thank you for reading 😊

The GIF doesn't belong to me, belongs to the amazing creator 😊

My first Tony story! 🙌

#robert downey jr #tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man imagine #tony stark imagine #short story #fanfic #doubt #marvel

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vqrtualheartss · 9 months

Text

E42 Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader! - Across the Multiverse (might change it)

A/n : Soo, this is my first time publishing any of my writings online, although intended to be a oneshot, if all goes well a part two may come by. Feel free to give suggestions, requests, feedback. Next part here

Warnings : cheating/ profanity, miles (1610) cheating, angst, cursing (only 2 words I think) , implied sexual assault,GWILES,, (not very detailed) harm done to reader

Reader = blue, Miles (1610) = red, Gwen = pink, others = white, may get a colour though

Genre : Angst(?)

I am in no way, shape or form trying to villainize Gwen, everything is just for plot in fact I love Gwiles. My only point of interest is Miles G.

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷| Every Saturday, my boyfriend -and Brooklyn's infamous Spider-Man- Miles Morales, would sit down and tell me the tea in the Spider-society. I've learnt about his encounters with other spider-people across the spider-verse and his relations with them. It was a silly little tradition but I loved it.

"Yea, so basically, the multiverse is a collection of all the universes there are, including this one. And that cow..villain thing, called The Spot has holes that can drag you anywhere across the multiverse or somewhere different in this one. I'll make sure to beat his ass next time he comes though so I can protect you from it"

I threw the pillow supporting my elbows at him, he webbed it to the wall "Corny ass"

He got up from his seat around the desk walking over to my place on the bed hovering over my frame.

"I don't care if I'm corny, I'll protect and love you in every universe there is, including this one"

We started giggling like little kids as the gap between our bodies closed in, he cradled my face in his hands before our lips met. We froze in the moment for about ten seconds before pulling back.

"I love you so, so much , and I don't ever want you to ever forget that."

He was clingy at times, but oh so adorable

"Ofcourse I know, you like to tell me everyday"

"And I'll never stop telling you"

He pecked my cheek. My hand rested onto his, caressing it

For about what seemed like hours but was just a few seconds we stared into the other's eyes, pure love and admiration in each set.

Who wouldn't fall in love again if someone looked at them like that?

"Even after two years I feel like I still have a crush on you-...Uahhh"

Taking a moment to process the events, Miles launched onto her

I held onto Miles as everything in the room including us started to levitate. He was more confused than scared since he's used to wierd stuff being Spider-Man and all. What shocked him was the blue.. portal thing that opened up in the ceiling. As it spread more, everything returned to it's position. From it a girl with blond, shoulder length hair and a right side-cut floated down on the bed beside us.

"Gwanda!, I missed you so much" huh?

"I missed you too Miles"

I stared at them blankly, separating themselves off each other, he cleared his throat.

"Y/n, this is Gwen, Gwen this is my girlfriend, y/n"

I awkwardly waved to her, to which she did back with almost the same energy. It was like looking at an inverted version of myself. My skin was a medium ebony, hers a snow white, I had coily 4c hair, her's was wavy, not to mention our clothing styles. Polar opposites.

"So why'd you call her Gwanda, and she like that?"

"It's an inside joke, you wouldn't get it"

Confused wasn't even the word for me right now. Miles scratched the back of his head, a nervous tactic of his

I shook my head to his statement. The silence got a bit awkward before she decided to break the ice

"Soo, how's everything since I left?"

Not wanting to disrupt their convo, I started scrolling through my feed

"The worst obviously"

I raised my eyebrows in shock at his confession. "obviously" What's that to mean? I had to bite at the inside of my cheek to stop myself from doing or saying anything irrational. I allowed myself to step out their convo, aimlessly browsing through social media, my focus was deep into my phone. However, my head swiftly moved when I heard their last few sentences

"Let's go patrolling, we still have a lot of catching up to do" Gwen's eyes widened, her blue irises scaring me a bit, they looked quite uncanny

"Does she know that you're-"

"Yeah, she does. You can trust her" Not sure if I can trust you or her right now.

"In that case, yeah, I'd like that"

My face stained with an inquisitive expression, both tones sounded a little too.. flirtatious for my liking, what exactly was so secretive that they had to talk it out in the city? I looked up at both persons as they put their suits on, waiting to see if neither would acknowledge my existence. Nope, they just got suited up and.. left. If there's a word to describe something to be more invisible than invisible then that was definitely how I felt. Not even my boyfriend could say goodbye.. humph

"It can't be that bad, they're just catching up.. yeah"

Trying every and anything to convince myself, I took up my belongings, letting myself outside his room then house. At first, I called out to his parents - "Mama Rio, Tio Jeff?" - hearing no response I left, locking the door using the key I got from Tiá Rio as a reminder that - I'm always welcome - I smiled at the memory.

I tried walking around the city to clear my mind, about halfway through my walk I saw two familiar suits gliding and having their best time in the sky, moving along the roofs of houses. That's some patrolling

"This is going to end badly isn't it?... Maybe I'm thinking of the worst, he loves me. He wouldn't replace me like that right?" Wrong.

Mood ruined, I cut my time short and headed straight home. Unlocking the door, I took my shoes off placing the beside the table. I would usually call out to my parents but they were away on a business trip. After getting some food, I took myself up to my bedroom. Taking a shower and changing into silk shorts and an oversized shirt (sleep clothes). But before heading to the bed I sat around my desk, admiring fairy lights adorned with pictures of Miles and I.. my boyfriend and I. I looked out my window only to see the two leaned against each other, back faced to my vision.

For the next few days it was all about Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. I felt as if he was dating her

"Wanna go on a date? Just you and me, it'd be fun" "Sorry I'm already with Gwen"

"Bonito, do you still want to go for ice-cream?" "Sorry princess, drawing with Gwen. Can you pick some up though? She loves vanilla."

"Can you buy that plush for me? I'll pay you back." "Sorry, spent all my money on Gwen"

(time-skip)

I tried so. so hard to keep positive, but I just couldn't. I changed, now it was gaslighting myself from crying to crying. "How's this even fair, he's supposed to be my boyfriend.. who is he even dating now" I felt like trash, disposable, he made me feel disposable. I thought I'd have to die before I see this era come. Clearly, I underestimated fate. I felt replaceable, disposable, and, jealous. I had completely let myself go, my eyes were always puffy, hair more tangled than usual, I looked a mess. I finally decided to talk with him, knowing this talk would only end one of two ways: good or bad.

I fixed myself up, it didn't take much really, I combed my hair, putting it in a nice high puff. Wore some cute clothes and that was it. Call me a narcissist, but I knew I was always pretty (bad lil bitch). I stared at my reflection in the mirror, smiling as I admired my features, taking a couple pics too , I finally headed out. My parents were out on another business trip, they always are, giving me another reason to visit the Morales - to visit my second family-.

Arriving at their residence, I knocked to acknowledge the presence of anyone that may be in the house. Miles' mother opened the door

"Tiá Rio! It's so good to see you" she pulled me into a hug before pulling back, both of us smiling

"Likewise mija.. oh dear, what happened? Your face is all sad-looking and-"

Your son is what happened

"it's nothing mama, I've just been tired, that's all"

It warmed my heart at how much she seemed to care for me, assuming she was referring to my puffy eyes I lied. - well that's one thing you can't rid in a day - whilst listening to me, she gestured for me to get inside, closing the door behind me as I took my shoes off

"If it's that boy stressing you out, I'll beat him for you, just let me know" I laughed at her suggestion

"No mama, it's not him, thank you for the offer though" I was still chuckling, then she joined in

"Anything for you. I'll get going though, I have something on the stove to attend to" I shook yes, heading towards his room

"Leave a plate for me?"

"Always " I smiled as I turned focus to Miles' bedroom door. I went in deciding to not knock

I don't even know if I wished I did or not. The scene behind the door was heartbreaking, but I couldn't look away. There he was.. my "boyfriend" kissing Gwen Stacy. He was looking at her with those eyes, the eyes of love he used to look at me with. Both of them looked at me like they've seen a ghost. The expression wasn't too far off, they did make me feel like a ghost, invisible. I shook away any tears starting to form, but my eyelids were like a broken dam, no way or use in controlling it. If anything, I wanted him to see how I felt, to see how much he hurt me, to feel guilt, sadness, anything.

"Cielo, don't cry. It's not what it looks like"

"How long ?" He started to stutter. "How long Miles?"

"2 weeks, listen.. please. We were caught up in a moment and we just-"

"Do you think that's helping?" I felt my words ball up, stuck in my throat, my stomach continuously dropping. It's as if I could feel the sadness in my body. I didn't like it

"No.." I looked over his shoulder, looking at Gwen as she turned her face away, his sweater and other belongings on her

"What happened to protecting and loving me in every universe? In this universe Miles. I don't care about any other universe, you had one job to do. Is loving me harder than being Spider-Man?" I shook my head side to side in disbelief

"Princessa-" Gwen hummed a timid response. Un-fucking-believeable

"Do not call me that, there's your princessa" I pointed over to Gwen that had her sweater still stuck over her body. The air quotes from myself added to the comedic effect and subtracted from the restraint I had to not laugh

I made a run for it when he turned his head in the direction of my finger before I broke down. I couldn't let him see me like this. I ran to the door, shoes in hand as I searched for my keys, unlocking it. Talking to Miles' mother in between quiet sobs as she rushed behind me, "I'm sorry tiá" I finally made my way onto the streets of Brooklyn running somewhere, anywhere far from their house. Once settled I tried putting on my shoes, who knew that such a simple task was hard when crying ?

Rio's p.o.v

What the hell is going on, more importantly, why is (y/n) crying. I looked up in the direction of Miles' room to see him run forward to the door, a girl that was definitely not her behind him, her lipstick smudged. What the actual- she looks old enough to vote ?! I stood in my position, putting 2 and 2 together.

"Miles Gonzalo Morales. Get. Here. Now."

(Y/n) p.o.v

Still, I was wandering around the city, just something I do to blow off steam. - The hell? - it's kinda wierd to see Brooklyn this empty, especially on a Saturday evening. I continued walking until I saw the reason for the lack of people, The Spot.

Could this day get any worse? I sighed, Yes unfortunately, mentally, I answered my question as I tried running opposite from the creature, my attempts to escape failed as it stretched it's hands to engulf me in its nothingness. As it took me in, I saw holes that spread randomly, seemingly having no start nor end.

I knew what they led into -a new universe-, but not where. Knowing there was no going back, I decided to leap into a random hole, accepting whatever fate it throws to me. Before making my decision, a hole randomly spawned underneath my legs, bringing me into any universe it leads to.

It was a hard fall to say the least but I got up. I landed in...Brooklyn? It was nothing like my Brooklyn but, sure it was pretty. The place was littered with multiple shades of dark purple and other hues, a black tint being evident on the atmosphere. Having nothing else to do, I did what I know best, wander. For about 10 minutes my eyes never left the buildings, neon signs or billboards, it was chaotic...but in a harmonious way. I was now more amused than scared. Then my thoughts hit me like a train

"Where will I stay?"

"Wouldn't I already live here?, I could be dead. SHIT I COULD BE DEAD"

"what should I do now?"

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't seem to acknowledge the group of men (3) that stood, cat-calling me. I decided to ignore their existence, walking briskly

"Hey doll, come here. I don't bite"

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here?"

With their words slurred, I could only assume they were drunk, plugging my ears with my fingers.

"ohh, so you think you're better than us now?" The third man stated

"bitch"

I blame Miles Morales of earth 1610 for this

They started to run after me, I started to run from them. To make the situation worse on my part, before arming myself with even a rusty nail, one of the men held on my arm, forcefully dragging me into an alleyway and throwing my body against the wall. One thing happened after another, now they started to beat and bruise my body anyway and where they could. Whether it was by throwing glass at my face, kicking my chest, slapping my face, throwing my head back into the wall, stomping on my body they didn't stop. They stopped when I was at my weakest, my mouth was bleeding, slap marks imprinted on my face, glass shards in and around my body, blood dripping at a slow rate from my head, most of it got soaked up in my hair, making the coils look more like curls. They did all this while letting out a few remarks on their minds.

"That's what you get for resisting, you had a choice y'know"

"Think you're better than the rest of us huh?"

"cry all you want, there's no one here to save you"

Spitting out blood, and wiping my mouth with my sleeve I begged for some forgiveness - "Please" "Let me go" -

"Hmm, you see. I really can't do that doll but you can get something else"

"what?"

The man's mouth distorted into a smug smile before he tore my jacket in half from the seams. I tried to cover my chest with the hand covered in blood as the other men laughed. He tore away my hand, slamming my head once more into the wall. Hard. Getting rid of any consciousness I may have had left. I silently cried as I felt my soul slip from my body.

My eyes started to shut , vision doubling as I heard the sound of metal scraping against the wall, faint screams came from infront me, my body getting weak. I heard men shouting, slicing, punching, and, the splatter of something that heavily fell on my face and clothes. Finally, I felt the hand that had intentions of violating my body fall, its owner seemingly dropping to the floor.

Forcing myself to open my eyes I saw a suit with colours of purple and black step towards me, lifting my body up.

"It's all good now. You'll be fine" The voice sounded almost mechanical behind the mask, the demeanour of the wearer gradually softening as he reassured me. I closed my eyes trusting the stranger with my life. I can trust him afterall..right?

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #across the spiderverse #spiderman #black writers #black tumblr #black reader #yn #miles molares #light angst #angst #fluff #fsnfics #fanfic #Spotify

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gothic-thoughts · 7 months

Text

Professional Tease

(Some more love for the Gojo simps.)

Satoru Gojo x Black GN Reader Smut

Boss/ServantAU, MDNI

CW: giving Gojo🧠, recording, cursing

After losing your phone, you asked other servants around Gojo's Mansion if any of them saw it, getting nothing but shrugs from most of them. You were starting to think you'd have to make a trip back to the coffee shop where you had your lunch break when another maid mentioned seeing it Gojo's main bedroom when she last cleaned it.

You thank her and head up the main stairs, peeking through the slightly open door and almost choking on air when seeing him with nothing but his pants and boots on. He grabs his shirt from the bed, toned muscles flexing as he slid his right arm through the delicate, blue fabric of the sleeve. After the left arm, you watch tentatively as Gojo's slim fingers trail up his abs before latching onto the first tiny button on the shirt. His left fingers hold the fabric while the right slowly pushes button after button through the holes, continuing until it was closed.

"Fuck, what I would give for those fingers anywhere near me." You think, nibbling on your lip. He tucks it into his still-open pants and proceeds to button and zip them, encasing the shirt before reaching back to his bed and picking up his belt. Gojo slowly slipped it through the loops of his pants all around his waist, stopping once he was about to buckle it right above his apparent bulge. He looks over his shoulder, eyes locking with yours as a smug smirk appears on his face.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

Your eyes widen as he turns to face you, belt hanging open as he reaches for a pair of dark, circular glasses before slipping them on. Two slim fingers beckon you into the room and you step inside with goosebumps crossing your skin and your heart rate increasing while you gather your apology and thoughts. "Save it, I saw those eyes wandering." He whispers as he walks closer to you, not stopping until he was towering over you. You swallow thickly.

"Mine tend to wander too, so I opt for shades."

"Sir, I was just-"

"Satoru."

"....I was just passing by to see if you had my phone."

He pulled your phone out of nowhere, "What, this?" He says, slowly raising it above his head, "You took so long to notice, I was getting worried I grabbed the wrong one."

"You took it?"

"Aw, don't get mad, I knew you'd come looking for it. I just wanted to spend some...time with my favorite maid."

Your eyes widen as steps closer, resting his free hand on your hip and guiding you back towards the door. You look up at his flirty smirk as he whispers, "I have to be somewhere in about 30, so you're not getting the full experience of Satoru Gojo just yet. However..." He presses a single finger to your lips and, a slight distraction from the your back being pressed against the now-closed door. "I am open to a quicker experience..."

"Here?"

"Why, you scared?"

"What if someone hears from behind the door?"

"Like who, another maid? I mean, I guess you'd be making them jealous. Who's gonna get you fired if I'm your boss? Unless you don't want to of course."

With newfound confidence, you kneel before him and undo his pants, intentionally grazing his hard-on as you pulled them to his thighs. Once you pull his boxers down, 7 inches that have been stiff since he noticed you watching him dress spring out, twitching in front of your face. You grab it with one hand, resting the other on his strong thigh as your tongue glides up the side to the head. He looks down at you with a smirk while you stroke the remaining inches until he pulses between your lips---the sound from his mouth was whiny and drawn out.

"Easy; I'm not going anywhere." He soothes, playing with your braids, "You look so good down there, damn~"

Before long, the sight of you slobbering on him was almost more than he could bear so he starts rocking his hips forward, both hands pressed against the door as his head dropped forward to watch his flushed shaft spread your plump lips apart with each thrust.

“You like this, don'tcha?”

"Mhm."

He pulls himself from your mouth and guides your chin up to meet his shades. "Ah-ah-ahh~ I wanna hear you say it."

"I like it, Satoru."

"Bet you do... mmm, I do too."

He slips his length back across your tongue slowly, sighing as his hips move forward desperately. Gojo holds the back of your head and gently guides you to the base, making himself moan as his cock head driving past your tonsils, drool trickling from your lips when you gag.

"Yeah, you better send me this video." He pulls out your phone, making sure you hear the chime when starts recording, "Mmh, take it down."

You look up at him, your head stroking him so well that he moves his shades to the top of his head and bite his lip so hard it starts to bleed. His crystalline eyes lock with yours while he chuckles breathlessly at the wet sound of gagging that filled his bedroom every time his tip hit the back of your throat.

"Ngh, yes~" He moans, zooming in on your mouth, "Ah, that's it, don't stop. Don't you dare stop, keep going."

Your hand slips into your pants and underwear, stroking yourself to the rhythm of your bobbing. He releases your head and presses his hand back to the door with a soft moan, hoping someone would hear your slurping. You suck him deeper into your throat until it twitched against your tongue, spilling more precum onto it.

"Damn, baby, who knew I hired a whore? Lucky me~"

Gojo's gaze was focused on your mouth through the camera, watching his dick quickly slip past your lips before he pulls out and strokes his sensitive tip along your soft tongue. He chuckles breathlessly as he pulls out completely, leaving a string of spit dripping down your chin.

"What's my name?"

"S'toru." You choke.

"Again."

"Satoru~"

He plays with your hair again before grabbing it to guide your head back and forth along his throbbing cock while you pleasure yourself. Your tongue swipes over his slit, making his moans breathy as his hips falter and his cock twitch as you suck harder.

"F-fuck, keep sucking." Satoru groans, shivering, "Ngh, I'm gonna cum, fuuck yeah~"

With a shiver and a soft moan, Gojo finally shoot his warm cum into the back of your throat, continuing to shakily thrust until he was drained completely before he pulls out to smear the rest on your plump lips. He rubs his sensitive head on your bottom lip with a shaky breath, whispering,

"Clean it up. C'mon, I already late as hell."

You wrap your puffy lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around to clean off every white drop left behind. Satoru pulled out and pulled up his pants while you licked your lips clean with a soft sigh of relief.

"Don't forget to send me that vid. And when I get back maybe we can make another."

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

A/n: first smut on the blog and its not even someone i simp for thats crazy 🎉🎊🥳🥳

#jujutsu kaisen x black reader #black reader #black writers #x black reader #jjk x black reader #gojo x reader #gojo x black y/n #gojo x black reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x gender neutral reader #jujitsu kaisen x reader

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hellhound5925 · 7 months

Text

I’m back! And back with something I promise will be worth it! (I freaking love this gif and have been looking for an excuse to use it 😂)

One Shot - Sargent Hunter

“It’s better this way” (Part One)

So we can argue that 'The Love You Want' and 'Blood Sport' by Sleep Token inspired this. If you haven't, give them a listen and think about it from Hunter's POV. Also I'm going to throw a name in but feel free to read it as whoever you want. This will be a few parts and end happy I promise! Probably going to be some cute romantic smut so please stick around!

Warnings:

18+, heartbreak, smut, (I'm bad at warnings let me know if I missed anything) mentions of blood (unintentional self harm?). References to stars exploding. Female character/reader.

Summary:

Relationships during wartime are tough...you'd know that better than anyone. Being a Mandalorian, you has been asked to train clones on Kamino. It just felt like the right thing to do, and what confirmed that for you was the moment the handsome Sargent had his eyes on you. Eventually letting him get to know you, you felt deep and hard for the man, but the reality of the war was forever in the back of your mind....

————

The last few days have been full of moping around and trying to avoid the love of my life...yeah thats right I said it...he's the love of my life...however the reality of the war knocking on my door telling me he's been killed in action is one of the toughest pills to swallow. Having decided it would be easier to let him go than to bare the heartache, I've been trying to find the right words to say to make him understand.

I'm so lost in my own head, sharpening my blades I almost missed it, "Hey" Hunter’s voice comes from over my shoulder. The tone is a somber one, making my heart shatter like glass into millions of tiny shards. For a moment I hesitate, wondering if I should pick up the pieces or move on - I knew this was going to be hard, I just didn't realize how hard...Two strong arms wrap around my torso, pulling me from my thoughts, and instinctively I push them away.

"We need to talk" I mutter as a tear slides down my cheek. Quickly, I wipe it away before turning to face him all while avoiding his eyes. He's not stupid...it doesn't take enhanced senses to know what's going on, but I'm sure it intensifies things... his hand moves towards my face and this time I allow the contact as he turns my face up towards his. I immediately get lost, those big beautiful brown eyes that let you know your the star at the very center of his universe. The sun that gives life to the surrounding planets.

His voice is as calm as darkness of space, deep and almost apologetic "Please talk to me Mesh'la. I know you're in pain." Sucking in a shaky breath, I attempt to steady myself. "I think it's best if we both go our separate ways" the sentence comes falling out of my mouth before my brain can even catch up.

I search his face for any indication of a reaction but get none. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't even blink for that matter. It's like someone pressed the pause button and all of the galaxy comes to a screeching halt. Meanwhile I tear his apart, the star at the center running out of nuclear fuel, causing a collapse at it's core, ending in a large galactic explosion.

Without another word or explanation, I decide it's best to give him some time to deal with the black hole now left behind. I storm off down the hall, walking much faster that I intended to, escaping the situation. Tears stream down my face and a few clones passing by exchange concerned looks. I'm suddenly filled by anger - I just gave up on him…on us, I don't need your pity - I think to myself.

The feeling of something warm in my hand catches my attention, stopping my in my tracks. Looking down I realize I still have one of my blades in my hand and I've been white knuckling it, the crimson liquid seeps between the cold durasteel and my skin. For a moment I watch as it drips to the floor, creating a small puddle that spatters with each drop. As I watch, string of curses in my native language of Mando'a grace my lips with their presence.

A familiar voice calls my name “Circe?” Without taking my eyes off the drips that have my undivided attention, “Elek? (Yes?)” I mutter - brain still working in Mando’a. The crimson drips are picking up their pace but I can’t help but watch in a trance. I can hear a set of plastoid boots hitting the permacrete growing closer. “You are injured, I would get that looked at if I were you.” Slowly I reach for the blade with my other hand and Tech moves like he’s going to stop me, “I would not—“ I cut him off, hissing as I pull the blade from the wound. The cut is deep and now that it’s hit the air, it stings. He sighs in annoyance “Come with me. You need to get cleaned up.”

In the med bay I don’t meet his gaze. He has no idea how I’ve hurt his vod (brother), not yet anyways. Once he’s finished, he stands in front of me as I stare at the white bandage now wrapped around my palm. “That should do it for now. You will need to have it changed tomorrow. Come find me then.” When he’s done talking, I expect him to move but he doesn’t. I finally raise my head and meet his eyes. The same big brown eyes he shares with so many others look back at me and one particular Clone Sargent comes to mind, I come completely undone.

Not a sound leaves my lips, but tears stream down my face. Tech looks around frantically as if something will appear of thin air and offer an explanation. I’ve always been able to confided in him, he’s my best friend but we never talked about how I felt…he never saw this coming. “I ended it” my voice cracks. The look on his face tells me he’s put two and two together, his eyebrows look as if they are trying to find a new home within his hair line and just when I think his eyes couldn’t get bigger they do. And just then, in his eyes another star burns up into nothing. I can’t blame him for how he might feel, I broke his vod’s (brothers) heart and no one saw it coming.

Composing himself from the shock, he clears his throat and straightens his goggles - as if they needed it. “I am sorry to hear that” is all he says. I can’t lose my best friend too…not now. “I can’t lose him” I blurt out, sounding way more desperate than I intended to. He gives me a confused look. “If he dies out there…” I can’t even finish the thought it hurts like a thousand blades cutting deep into my core. Tears stream more persistently down my face, clouding my vision.

“You do not want to lose him out there…so you push him away here?” Confusion dripping from his voice.

“I know it doesn’t make sense but Tech trust me…it’s better this way.”

“Better for who exactly?”

“For me.” He doesn’t respond and silence once again fills the room. I don’t know why I’m trying to explain this to him…he doesn’t and won’t understand. Pushing myself off the exam table, I stride past him towards the door. I hesitate for a moment, “This will hurt less in the end.” And with that I head down the hall to prepare to teach my next class.

Taglist:

@cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @maybethatfanfictionwriter

@savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

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teenandbeyond · 2 years

Note

Think that I could request Gohan relationship headcanons with someone who’s super shy and docile? Thanks in advance!

Gohan x Shy. Reader Headcanons

I was surprised by the request, since usually saiyan-blooded beings go for fiery beings, but I like this twist. Edit: Lol, made the reader shy with random spurts of fieriness, couldn't help it oops Edit 2: Btw y'all know I separate SFW from NSFW for people who might only want innocent stuff or don't like sexual stuff, right? If not, now you know.

Want more from me? Masterlist 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

👓Studious👓 (DBZ or Dragonball Z)

Warning(s): SFW and NSFW

Let's just say it's...interesting to have a boyfriend who's half alien.

✨✨✨✨

SFW

Gohan loves how shy you are

It's so cute

You've mostly gotten used to little pecks on the cheek or temple

But anything in public and your body gets all hot

Sometimes he'll feed you, just to get the reaction you always give

Slight embarrassment

But he never fully embarrassed you from anything...only a smidge

You often think he hides sadism under that smile of his

During study sessions more often than not, he'll pull you into his lap while he works

Then came time to meet the family, you were nervous and he was dreading it.

Chichi was nice...intimidating at first...mom jitters, ya know?

But she found you pretty adorable and just interrogated you about your academic abilities, overall nice

Goten broke through your shell of shyness, he was too adorable to not indulge him, besides he was a kid, so he wasn't as intimidating.

Then Goku came home

Well...crashing through a window...but he was home.

No one but you seemed surprised, Chichi was just annoyed.

Your head snapped to Gohan, "This is...normal?"

Goku intimidated you by the middle of dinner when you witnessed how much food he could eat. He kind of teased your quietness, too.

You thought his kindness must have been an act, he must be an evil human black hole or something. No human eats food like that.

Turns out Gohan eats like that too, you supposed he hadn't eaten around you before.

Oh...He's not human? Neither is Gohan completely?

Cue Gohan apologizing for not saying anything sooner or not really planning to until the window thing that couldn't be easily explained.

And you being interested if he had any powers, him saying he wasn't really into fighting as much...only for him to cave and fly with you when he saw your disappointed face.

He might have to take you flying again, your eyes were filled with so much wonder and he got a joyful laugh out of you.

Because you were shy, you hadn't kissed yet.

Seeing Gohan with a girl might have made you a little jealous though...and you might've impulsively kissed him.

Only to hide away in his chest after.

Wait...he wanted to do it again?

At least on dates, he was mutually shy, so you felt a little better

He took great care of you.

Taking care of you when sick or hurt.

Helping you out with your own studies.

Making things together.

Dancing, sometimes in the rain.

And giving you all the affection in the world.

Even though half of it flustered you.

You were absolutely burning when you cuddled.

Or when a kiss got heated for the first time.

And he swears when you stood up for him in front of his family and friends and that unknown fiery part of you came out full force for the first time...

He'd already wanted to marry you, but sheesh, have kids with him, too

He could only smile when you stopped and the fire sizzled out, hiding in his chest away from the wide eyes.

Your occasional spurts of fire really excite the Saiyan part of him.

And oh, did he find you adorable in his clothes

NSFW

Was it mentioned how much he loved your shyness?

It's even cuter behind closed doors in his room

When you look away from his bare chest.

All the little sounds you make and when you try to hide your face.

He likes the power that you let him have.

Sometimes the change in personality overwhelms you in the best of ways.

The first time you decided to go all the way was risky, he was in the process of getting his own place but still lived at home. Chichi was away for errands but got back sooner than he planned. Didn't stop him though, he just told you to keep quiet while he answered her questions from the other side of the locked door to make her go away.

He liked kissing your neck, leaving marks of claim behind.

More often than not he wasn't traditional with the position.

Anything that let him see your face and how expressive it was fine, though.

He preferred to sit with you on his lap.

Surprisingly Gohan can get primal if in a certain mood.

Without those glasses in the way, his bare face seems much more carnal.

But putting aside shyness you find it much more attractive when he has them on, you can't explain it.

He also likes when you dress up in cute outfits.

He can also be evil and make you memorize test questions this way. But hey, you remember the answers!... And the...memorization methods...

Okay...maybe he's a little sadist-y

But he's still very caring and prioritizes your needs first.

But due to your submissive nature, you prefer him to take control

To embarrass you, occasionally he'll surprise you and put you in the position of control. He does his best not to coo when you stutter out demands, but you never last long before relinquishing control to him.

#son gohan #gohan #dbz #anime #dbz x reader #dragon ball #gohan x reader #gohan x shy reader #dbz headcanons #gohan headcanons

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pottahishotasf · 2 years

Text

── 𝓓𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓪𝓵 ──

Tom Riddle x Reader Summary ▻ You are currently dealing with a situation where you are forced to be married and a confession that seemed to change your point of view. Warning(s) ▻ Tom and Mattheo are brothers because I said so. Tom is still a fucking asshole. Feelings. Denial. Mentions of alcohol and someone being drunk. accidental confession. thank you very much. Okay not all purebloods are related. I have to say this because its disgusting I FUCKING HATE INCEST. Word Count ▻ 800+

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ

"I do not like her nor do I give a fuck about her." He sneered at Mattheo.

Mattheo on the other hand just stared at him, his face showed his interest to infuriate his brother further and get him to admit the truth - as it already is visible in his actions - that his brother, somehow never thought about.

"One more word about her, I'm gonna feed you to Nagini."

Mattheo stood up without a single sign of fear as Tom is his brother and he knows him very well.

He does care about you, he doesn't even know how to hide it - the lingering gazes, the longing look he has as he gazes at you from afar, the constant stealing glances that he cannot seem to control.

In plain words, he turns into an incredibly clumsy person - or a dimwit should he say - around you.

Arrange marriage. The situation you're currently in.

It wasn't that bad, especially when you both agreed that you can hook up with whomever you please as long as you return home the next morning.

Every time after a party or some kind of an event, the pair of you would have a sit on the small cushion in your room with a glass of champagne or wine on your hands and normally share each of your last night's experience.

Well, he lies.

He'll admit in his past relationships, he had a ton of sex, but he suddenly stopped when he found out he was in an arrange marriage with you.

And all he wanted to do was to do it with you - do everything with you. not just sex, but also those sweet stuff that couples do.

Although, it seems impossible to hear such a thing especially coming from Tom's perspective - he still cannot deny how bad he wants to have that.

The way he'd love to go down on you each time he gets. He has never been this desperate for a woman and it drives him mad.

And that change of behaviour sure did surprise everyone - even his own brother was surprised by this.

Sure, he was still mean and a fucking ass hole but he wasn't the kind like his past - pulling any woman of his choice and fuck them senseless in a room or preferably just use their mouth in a dim lighted corridor like they're just useless things that he could buy or borrow.

And an improvement that Mattheo would like to include that he haven't seen any woman roaming around the Manor after they had sex or no going to the pub without you.

And he always has the same reason for everything "I want to make them proud." And by 'them' their parents.

He was offended when you didn't look interested the first time you were told about the arrangement. You looked at your parents as if they said something that offended you - so he offered the mentioned idea and you were quick to say yes.

***

Mattheo started teasing him about his relationship with you when:

***

One night, you went to a party with all the guest part of the sacred 28 - meaning, you were required to go.

You wore a black dress that night - his favorite - with a pair of heels that seem to match his clothing.

You were forced to greet each and everyone, kindly - while Tom stood beside you, his face full of seriousness that guests wouldn't even dare to glance at his direction. He nudges your shoulder once in a while to stop you from rolling your eyes.

Later that night, a beautiful woman invited you to their room to play "chess" - however, you didn't accept the offer knowing your fiance would get drunk tonight.

Tom is going to be pissed drunk tonight - don't tell him I told you that.

Thanks Mattheo.

No worries.

Mattheo left early not wanting to be responsible of his brother and carry him to the room the pair of you share upstairs.

***

You spotted him sitting - laying on the couch in one of the rooms - he was alone - passed out drunk.

Getting near him you almost gagged from the musky scent of alcohol.

"Bloody fucking hell, you smell like shit." You muttered. "Come on, get up."

Pulling his limp body up, you groaned and thought about how nice it would be to have Mattheo with you right this instant.

"You're definitely a lovely woman to fuck, but I have a fiancé who I like a lot. She'll get mad and kill you before I even can." He slurred.

"What in Merlin's left ball sack are you talking about?"

"Her name is Y/n. She's really pretty - no, beautiful. I still partly hate her though."

You dropped Tom on the bed and chuckled at his confession as he continued "She has a pair of beautiful eyes and her lips - oh her lips - I would kill to just give it a single bloody peck - Shh - don't tell her that."

Mattheo witnessed all of that, as he was just following behind you, just in case you needed an extra hand.

His eyes were wide as just his smile - he discovered that he was right all along.

His brother did like you.

A/n: This is an update because I haven't been posting and yes. I just taught of this and wrote it like a fucking asshole.

ʟɪ��ᴇꜱ, ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ!!

@maelycious @slvtfor-gingerpubes @kimorna @dracoslittleangel @honeymunson @raajali3

#tom riddle #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fic #tom riddle x y/n #harry potter imagine #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle angst #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter #hp x reader #hp imagine #hp angst #hp fanfiction

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billys-pretty-babe · 11 months

Text

Strong Enough to Bring Sun to the Darkest Days

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Platonic!Fem!Reader

Warnings : mentions of depression, suicidal ideation and anxiety

Word count : 708

A/N : today has been extremely hard and i just needed an escape, this most likely won't be as good as my others but i just needed a distraction.

You hadn't seen your best friend in two weeks, you were currently holed up in your bedroom, having your mother make any unwanted guests to leave and unfortunately, that included Billy. You barely had the energy to drag yourself out of your bed to do some form of hygiene, most of the time, it was the bare minimum.

Your episodes became more frequent, more harmful to your mental health with the thoughts of wanting to go to sleep one night and not waking up the next. The first few days, you spent endless hours crying until you could no longer cry, just get the burning sensation of the tears and the burning in your nose.

At night, you felt nauseous when you were left home alone, afraid something would happen, your teeth would chatter, your hands would shake and your heart rate picked up, you thought your heart was going to explode.

Your parents left once again, both having a night job and as soon as the deadbolt locked, the anxiety settled into your belly as you bit your tongue, trying to swallow your lunch back down, deciding on skipping out on dinner. Not even an hour had passed before you heard footsteps in front of your window.

You tried to be rational, trying to tell yourself it was just a stray animal until someone's knuckles hit the window quickly, three taps. You tried to smile, you knew exactly who it was, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. You got up, your body aching from being in your bed, your bed having an indent in the shape of your body.

You pulled the black curtains back and there he was. Billy smiled, wiggling his fingers as he pointed at your latch, wanting you to unlock your window. He unlocked it and peeled the window up, listening to it creak from not being used for fourteen days. Billy ducked under the window, letting himself into your bedroom before you quickly shut the window, latching it and closing your curtains.

"What're you doing here," you asked as you made your way back to your bed, laying in your crater, the mattress hugging your body, trying to provide you comfort. Billy looked at you, tossing his leather wallet onto your bedside table, moving you over so he could sit beside you. "Why are you shutting me out?" You shrugged, you couldn't tell him you were getting bad again, he had helped you so much.

He reached for you, not wanting to overstep any boundaries by grabbing you. You reached out as well, grabbing his slightly calloused hand. "I'm getting bad again," you said quietly and he nodded, nudging your body over so he could lay beside you. "I know," he said just as quietly. "I wanted to give you some time but I was getting worried, but I haven't seen you in two weeks. They usually only last a couple days." You nodded, "They've been back to back." He nodded once more.

He squeezed your hand tightly so you'd pay attention to him, "I love you and I'm here if you ever need me. You can come to me whenever you need something or someone, okay?" You nodded, moving closer to him as you placed your head on his shoulder. "I love you too, B." He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you smiled as you felt his smile.

"Can you stay the night?" He nodded as he moved his head to one of your pillows. "Already got a change of clothes in the car, sweetheart." You nodded. "Thank you for everything." He smiled, "You don't need to thank me. I'll do anything for you, you know that." You nodded, twisting the silver ring on his finger.

"Scoot, my ass is hanging over the bed." You laughed and moved for him as he moved so he was on the bed. "Go to sleep." You nodded, knowing how much sleep you'd been getting lately. "Love you." He smiled, "Love you too, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to your forehead once more before holding you tightly, gently pressing your ear to his chest, where his heart would be.

One finger traced your features softly, lulling you to sleep.

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #stranger things billy #william hargrove #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove angst

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iknowsescapingjourneys · 11 months

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(A/N: I have literally never written a fan fiction in my life so this is going to be an adventure. I have an eighteen chapter series planned for this if things go well. I am a white girl that grew up in the middle of nowhere, USA, so if I get any British slang wrong or accidentally mess up something when it comes to his culture, please correct me! I am completely open to concrit.

Other than that, there’s not many triggers in this chapter. Kinda new to Tumblr, I was an embarrassing teenager the last time, pls don’t look at my posts, so I don’t know what needs to be tagged. There’s some fighting, but nothing graphic or gory. Mentions of theft. That’s about it. I am going off of the interview with the directors that say that he is an adult, and there will be smut in later chapters.

Please let me know what you think! I will also do requests for one-shots if anyone has anything in particular they’d like to see.)

Reckless Driving

Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Chapter 1

The crunch of glass beneath the PVC of Doc Martins seems to become an increasingly familiar sound. The stretch and curl of fingers in her gloves causes the sound of metal claws scraping together to echo through the showroom of the commercial jewelry store, barely audible as an alarm blares heavily above her head. The night vision equipped in her helmet makes it easy to see the glass case she’s peering down at, and with a slam of a gloved, clawed fist, the barrier shatters into a hundred sharp, sparkling pieces that fall to the floor and the display below. Claws curl easily around necklaces and rings, dropping them into the cargo pockets of her pants.

She knows how long it takes the police to show up, and she knows that she has three minutes left, if she’s lucky. She’s been here longer than she usually prefers to be, having had a difficult time busting the first display open. The police scanner in her ear chatters away, reports of her misconduct and theft a hot topic. She scoots to her left, repeating her earlier process, and zipping up the pocket when it feels heavy against her thigh.

She turns on her heel to dash to the employee exit in the back, but finds herself colliding with something, a mix of blue and red and black. She stumbles back, eyes widening beneath her masked helmet. Her first instinct is Spiderman, who she is more than well acquainted with, and not in any way that could be deemed positive. Her fist flies through the air without thought, stopped short when it’s grabbed mid trajectory and used to push her back into the broken display case. Her back arches to avoid sharp shrapnel, and she kicks a leg up, outsole colliding with a denim clad knee.

Denim? She pauses her onslaught long enough to get a good look at who exactly has wandered into her crime scene. An eyebrow raises beneath the LEDs of her helmet as she takes him in. This, this was not Spiderman. What looked to be heavy liner circled the mask’s eyes, dripping down below the eye holes. The suit was covered in spikes, both built into it and adorned with bracelets, and belts, and even protruding from the leather jacket that hung loosely on his frame. A guitar was strapped across his back, strings messily sprouting from string trees.

She was pulled from her analysis when a heavy boot made contact with her chest, sending her flying back into the cash register of the jewelry store. She could hear sirens approaching over the sound of the alarm screaming, and she knew flashing lights were only moments away. Her eyes flickered back up to the man encroaching on her space like a predator stalking its prey.

“Man, look at the time,” She spouts, notes of sarcasm and nervousness sprinkled throughout her otherwise surprisingly even tone. “Guess I should probably head out.” She continues, throwing her upper body to the side to avoid another well aimed kick. This time she notices the yellow and blue of ladder laced cords.

“Blue laces, huh? Seems like an odd color for someone working with the cops.” She taunts, managing to pull herself over the counter of the cash register, shoving open the door to the back room with her own boot as she backs herself up.

The man seems to pause for a moment, running his eyes over her figure with a look of confused conflict. “Y’know lace code?” He asks, and she can’t help the laugh that bubbles from her throat.

His accent is thick, and it’s immediately apparent to her that he is not from around here, though New York was known to have a melting pot of people. His voice is deep, but not intimidatingly so, and she finds she actually quite likes it, even from the small sampling she’s heard so far. Her eyes glance down to her own laces, strung up in a similar fashion. One side yellow, the other side purple.

“I might,” She finally answers with a grin, knowing that the duration between the question and her answer was probably long enough that he knows she was taken aback by his accent.

She turns the lock to the back exit with clawed fingers, being as delicate and quiet as possible as she continues to attempt to distract him long enough to get herself out the door.

The heel of her palm presses against the metal lever of the doorknob, her eyes locking on a shelving unit just a leg’s distance away.

“I like the pin,” She mentions, gesturing with her head towards the large A of the anarchy symbol adorned on his jacket. When he glances down in an effort to see which one her eyes have locked on, she kicks her leg out, sending the shelf crashing between them, creating a makeshift barrier.

She knows if he’s anything like the Spiderman she’s used to, he’ll make quick work of throwing it to the side, but it’s a divider long enough for her to slam her hand down and barrel out of the metal door keeping her from her motorcycle.

The pads of her non-gloved fingers press down hard on a button strapped to her thigh and the bike roars to life in a brilliant light show, greens and purples illuminating the dark alley. She throws a leg over the seat, straddling across the leather as her foot slams into the gas, lurching forward as the metal door flies open again to reveal the lanky frame of the man she’d fought with moments prior.

By that point though, she was practically a bat out of hell, motorcycle weaving through alleys so fast that she wasn’t much more than a blur. To be fair, she’s well aware that he could probably catch up to her if he wanted to, using the webs to leap from building to building. Track her down, wrap her up, deliver her to the police.

For some reason, it doesn’t surprise her when he doesn’t.

______________________________

He couldn’t be arsed to chase after you, if he was being honest. First of all, this was a chain, and the markups on the shit they sold was enough to make his anarchist blood boil. Combined with the fact that the cops were out to get her, (and he would rather die than be seen working in collaboration with pigs), it seemed less than important to go swinging through a city he wasn’t entirely familiar with to repossess some cliché engagement rings and some overly gaudy necklaces.

So he knew it wasn’t guilt about letting her get away that rattled around in his head a day later. That conclusion lead him to where he was now: staring down at his boots as they moved him through the night, barely cognizant of what was going on around him as he shifted through thoughts that seemed to pop up faster than he could shoo them away, akin to pop-ups on a shady website.

His tongue ran back and forth over the metal of his lip ring, feeling the shift of piercing to flesh with each passing movement. A stem he often found himself utilizing when he was overwhelmed with his own mind.

He’s only pulled from his thoughts when a familiar sound erupts through the silent air from across the park he’s meandering through. His head snaps in the direction of the noise, pierced brows furrowing slightly. The rumble of a bass guitar, clearly played by someone with experienced fingers, because the tune sounded incredible.

Through the light foliage, definitely planted by a city council in order to make the area look more ‘organic’, he was just capable of making out a feminine frame propped on the black plastic playground border. He couldn’t say he recognized the song, but it definitely had an edge to it. A bite. He liked it.

She didn’t seem to notice him as he made his way over, eyes locked on the way her fingers caressed four thick strings, and the way they reverberated as she pulled away from each one, the timbre of each note filling the air.

“A little late to be putting on a show, innit?”

He can’t choke back the laugh that climbs from his chest when her head swings up to make eye contact with him, her fingers stuttering on strings that release a roar upon her mis-strum. He makes note of the way her eyes widen, akin to a deer stuck in the headlights of a car. Clearly she wasn’t used to people stumbling upon her little solo jams.

“Not much of a show.”

The woman in front of him mumbles, her eyes downcast once again in embarrassment, though he was just capable of making out the dusting of blush that adorned the apples of her cheeks. He settled himself on the plastic divider next to her, brushing off a piece of mulch that threatened to fall to the grass outside of its designated area.

“Not sure about that, princess. Can’t say I wasn’t enjoying it.”

He watches her blink a few times, face twisting in confusion a little as she glances up at him. He takes the chance to let his eyes wander the details of her complexion: the little laugh lines on the corners of her lips and nose, the way her eyes shimmer in the dim light of the lamp post, the gloss applied to her lips.

“Princess?”

She asks, and he realizes that she thinks he’s some prat trying to harass her in the middle of the night. He gives an apologetic smile, his lip ring reflecting the lighting and enunciating the gesture.

“Seems like I’m about to make a total cock-up of this whole situation.”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead, warm flesh brushing cold metal bumps of thick metal captive beads.

“Promise I’m not tryna chat you up. It’s just a ‘abit.”

He watches her frame deflate from the bristled posture it held moments prior, and he relaxes slightly as well, leaning back as palms dig into rough wood shavings. His eyes wander her before he gets to her shirt and the back of his large, ringed hand hits her shoulder.

“You like R&B?”

He asks, fingers gripping on the hem of the black material and pulling it slightly to flatten the material so he can get a better look at it. Her lips twitch in discomfort for a moment, an action he doesn’t miss, and he pulls his hands away, not embarrassed but feeling a little bad for what definitely seemed like harassing this girl now.

“Erykah Badu is the background track to just about every trip I’ve been on.”

She says softly after an extended silence, and the little grin that climbs the corner of her lips is not lost on him. Maybe she wasn’t completely under the impression he’d lost the plot. He pulls his phone from his pocket, glancing at the time.

Then he glances at it again, eyes widening. How had he managed to fuck around until two in the morning? If people weren’t pissed because they were looking for him, they’d be pissed the next morning when he couldn’t drag his arse out of bed.

He was honestly a little disheartened by the fact that he’d managed to absolutely flounder the entire conversation, just to pick himself up right as he had to leave.

“Really should get going. I’m absolutely gutted I couldn’t ‘ear you play more of that bass.”

He says with a grin, long legs pulling to a stand as he tried to remember what direction he’d come from and how to get back. His spidey-senses tingle right before his hand wraps around his wrist, and he yanks it away at the last second out of instinct. She seems dissuaded by the rejection, and he does his best to soothe the burn with a grin.

“Sorry, doll. Just not used to being touched.”

He apologizes, raising horizontally pierced brows as an invitation for her to speak her mind. It’s the least he could do for harassing her and then fucking off right as they started to actually have a conversation.

“Do you think I could have your number?”

He’s no stranger to being hit on. He’s no stranger to being the one to hit on others, either. And he can’t deny that she’s a very beautiful woman. Still, he knows better. This isn’t his universe, and he’s not here to make friends, and especially not here to shag around whatever version of New York this was.

“I’m flattered, really. Can’t say I think that’s the brightest idea though. I could be mad, y’know?”

The woman’s shoulders drop slightly at being pied off, and he reaches out to set a hand on the pewter gray of the shoulder of her shirt.

“Don’t take it personal though, princess. I’ve just got a lot on my shoulders at the moment.”

He reassures, letting his hand drop back down to his side and turning on his heel before he stared at her too long and changed his mind. The last thing he needed to do was find himself attached to a civilian, especially one that he’d have to dimension hop for. The cons far outweighed the pros.

Hobie Brown was a rebel, but he wasn’t daft.

#hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader

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thatblackravenclaw · 2 years

Text

Oh baby

Masterlist

wolfstar x fem!reader

word count: 943

warning(s): pregnancy, fluff, peter is actually a good guy but barely mentioned.

“Do you ever wonder who he’ll look like?” I ask Sirius.

“Oh, Me. No doubt.” He responds while caressing my stomach.

“Yeah, right.” Remus says from the kitchen.

He walks out and sits on the other side of me.

“He’s obviously going to look like me.” Remus continues.

I roll my eyes at the statement. They’re going to be very upset men when the baby comes out looking like me. He’ll probably have Sirius attitude though.

Something that I will always wonder is who’s sperm got me pregnant. Weird thought, I know, but I can’t help it. Like, who’s sperm was fastest? I bet I could make them argue about it.

“Hey, guys?”

“What’s up babe?” Remus asks.

“Who’s sperm do you think got me pregnant?”

There’s a pregnant (no pun intended) pause.

“Well, it was obviously mine.”

“OBVIOUSLY??!!” Sirius blurts out.

“Yeah? We both know that my swimmers are better than yours.”

And then the argument ensues for the next five minutes. I admit it was very funny at first, but now I’m hungry.

“Who would love to be my favorite husband and get me food?”

“I thought you had no favorites?” Remus states with a smile pulling in the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t, but whoever gets Orion food will be my first official favorite.”

Only a second passes before both of them apparate. About ten seconds later Sirius is back in the room.

“What is it you said you wanted, my love?” He says with an over the top grin.

“I didn’t, but since you actually came back.. I want bangers and mash with exactly 3 bangers from that one in the hole place in London, Butterbeer from The Three Broomsticks, and Ginger Newts from Madam Puddifoot’s.”

He winks at me before apparating again.

I feel a kick as I sing Orion’s favorite song. I can’t help but smile as I continue singing while laying my hand on my stomach to feel him. A few seconds later I feel another kick, but on the other side of my stomach. That can’t be right. Maybe I’m just buggin.

Another kick stops my train of thought. That’s it. I grab the house phone while also grabbing my coat. As soon as my coat is halfway on, I dial Lily’s number.

“Uhm, hi?” Lily says as she picks up the phone.

“Hey babe! What you up to?

“Oh, just was in the bed with James..”

“Baby making?” I ask with a smirk.

“Maybe.” She responds, stretching out the last syllable.

“Aw I’m sorry. Would you hate me so if I asked you guys to wait one more day?”

“A little. Depends on why.”

“I’m kinda, sorta, maybe about to give birth and my husbands aren’t here.

In no time her and James are outside with their car. I sit in the back seat and apologize profusely. I’m surprised we don’t get in a wreck with how fast Lily was driving.

James helps me out of the car once we’re outside of the hospital.

“So.. any chance you guys will name the baby after me if you have a girl?” I poke at James.

“You’re already the godmother.” He says as we walk inside.

“And?”

We walk up to the counter before he can answer. Can’t believe he’s trying to get out of naming their daughter after me.

“Hello! Y/n Lupin-Black. I talked to Doctor Pettigrew on the phone.”

“Right! Just sit in the wheelchair and someone will assist you in a sec.”

It takes but a few moments before I’m being wheeled off to the room.

I sit for about five minutes before I see a head poke through the door.

“How’s my favorite patient?” She asks as she sits on the stool next to the bed.

“This baby isn’t due for another week, Laura.” I respond, clearly irritated.

“So fantastic? Great! We’re just gonna do a quick ultrasound.”

She puts the gel on my stomach and picks up the transducer.

I sigh before speaking.

“How’s Peter?”

“He’s fine. In the break room right now in case you do end up popping tonight.”

“Ha ha.” I express dryly.

As she moves the transducer around my stomach I see her face scrunch up in confusion.

“What? What’s wrong?” I ask. I feel my heart drop to my stomach. It can’t be anything too bad, right? If there was something wrong with the baby.

“Well, pretty lady. It seems like you’re either having twins or an alien with four feet.”

I don’t get enough time to react before I hear rapid footsteps come into the room. Sirius is holding a brown bag while holding Remus’ hand. They look at me and I can’t help the biggest smile from spreading across my face.

“We’re having twins.” I say to them.

“YOU’RE HAVING TWINS??” I hear from the hall.

In comes James and Lily.

“One of them better have my middle name.” James says.

“Just because you have to endure the middle name Fleamont doesn’t mean one of our sons should have to.” Remus says with a laugh.

“I resent that.” James pouts.

“Besides. As much as I appreciate you guys driving me here, I already have their names picked out.”

After 31 hours of labor, I finally get to meet my perfect boys, Orion Reggie Lupin-Black and John Apollo Lupin-Black.

“I must ask.. Why Apollo?” James says as he hold John.

“First moon landing, moon, Remus.”

They all pause and just look at me.

“I’m naming the next one.” He says.

“The next one?? You must be having it. Now, give me my baby since you decided to be mean.”

#wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar fic #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x y/n #wolfstar prompt #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x fem!reader #harry potter fluff

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sheisnotalone · 2 years

Text

𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭

.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x reader (platonic)

warnings: panic attacks, mentions of depression and anxiety (it's the way I experience it) apart from that it's pure fluff because I need it

word count: 1.6k

summary: you are having a panic attack and are going through a rough time and wanda and natasha are there for you.

a/n: this is 100% me coping with my own anxiety so I guess read at own risk? I kinda want to use this to thank the people that were there for me in the past few weeks and show you how important you are to me, if you know what I mean? You are to me what WandaNat are to y/n in this fic and I can't thank you enough for it.

@stonemags, @hocuspocusbabyy, @immortalityisbliss, @maximotts, @radbearxxx, @chelleztjs18, @hey-its-liz, my RL friends who will probably never read this M, L and E and everyone else that reached out to me, you don't know how thankful I am for all of you and how much even the little interactions mean to me. I'm going through a lot and all of you make it a bit easier.

and I want to share with you this song which also fits the topic and I was able to listen to while it was played live tonight, enjoy~

.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~

Masterlist || Navigation

Suddenly it was all too much, you felt it the whole day, the feeling in your gut, pulling at you from the inside. You didn't notice when you started sobbing. You were sitting on your bed hugging a big stuffed animal when the panic attack washed over you. Your thoughts were spinning, breathing seemed impossible and all you wanted to do was scream. But you couldn't, you could just sit there and let it happen. When you regained the ability to move you somehow managed to grab your phone and messaged the first person that came up on your screen. you didn't really care who it was you just needed someone to know that you are not okay.

"panic attack"

That's the only thing you texted before your phone dropped out of your hands again and another wave of sobs washed over you. The black hole inside of you started to consume you. You didn't notice when your door opened and someone entered. Worry on her face the person moved to sit next to you on the bed and wrapped her arms around you.

"Sweetheart, it's okay, I'm here" you would recognise that voice everywhere. "Wanda?" you got out, turning your head to look at her. "Shh" she whispered in your ear "I've got you". She pulled you closer and you let your body relax against her. "Focus on my breathing" she started slowly rubbing your back while still holding you close mumbling sweet nothings into your hair after pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. You needed a long time to calm down but the presence of someone else made you feel better.

"What time is it?" you asked, your voice raspy from crying. "Nearly 10pm, I can stay here with you for the night if you want" she suggested not wanting to leave you alone in this state. "I don't want to cause you any inconveniences" you replied. You didn't want her to just stay here out of pity even though you would really appreciate not having to be alone with your thoughts again. "You are not causing inconveniences, let me just get changed and brush my teeth, I'll be back in 10" she got up after you nodded releasing you from her hold. You immediately missed the warmth of her body but knowing that she would return you let yourself fall to your back onto the sheets. You didn't even know why this was affecting you so much. It was nothing, just a little misunderstanding with a really close friend but you felt like you fucked up, that they hated you now, that you would loose them. Not that that would be new to you. You frankly had a long list of failed friendships. It was just a matter of time until someone important to you would leave because they discovered just how broken you actually were.

You started getting lost in your thoughts again, you started crying again, the black hole inside of you returned again. But before it could get worse you heard the door open and two pairs of feet step in. Two persons crawled onto the bed, one of each side of you and you immediately recognised your favourite redheads. Wanda had brought Natasha with her. She was spooning you from behind, pulling you close to her when Wanda started talking "I hope you don't mind that I brought her with me, she was really worried". She looked down to you and Natasha and you gave her a reassuring smile to let her know you were more than okay with it. "Did you eat and drink enough today, honey?" she asked. You started thinking. For breakfast you had a toast and you drank half a water bottle. Apart from that...

The amount of time you needed to think of an answer was enough for Wanda to draw her own conclusions. "Thought so" and with a flick of her hand a serving tray appeared in front of you, slowly hovering above you. Natasha loosened her hold on you so the both of you could sit up. Before Wanda could place the tray on your legs pulled Natasha you into her lap so she could still hug you from behind. "I know exactly how you feel" Natasha confessed from behind you "For me it helps if someone is holding me close so I don't loose my grip on reality, but if you don't want me to stop, I'll stop of course"

"No, please don't stop" you leaned back onto her and she smiled down at you. Wanda then gave you the tray and snuggled close to the two of you, head buried in Natasha's neck. You looked down and found two avocado toasts with tomatoes and a water bottle in front of you. How Wanda knew that this was one of your favourite foods was beyond you, but you really appreciated the gesture and took your first bite.

"When you're done I could show you funny old pictures of Wanda and me when she was new on the team if you want" Natasha offered and you were too focused on your food to see Wanda blush. It was established that the two redhead's were dating each other and Nat had told you many times how cute and insecure Wanda had been at the beginning. "Or we could watch a movie or series instead, if you prefer that" Wanda tried, earing a soft chuckle from Natasha.

"C-can we do both maybe?" you stammered. "Of course we can, malyshka" Natasha affirmed "you finish eating, I'll search the pictures and Wanda chooses a show we can watch". Wanda and you nodded and soon the tray was gone, 'How I met your mother' was playing on the TV and you were curled up in between the two women. Natasha had placed a tablet in front of you and was swiping through some older pictures of her, Wanda and the team and ever so often you started giggling. There were some really funny and some really ugly pictures and you loved that they shared this with you. Your time on the team hadn't been long, but even though you were still 'the new kid' the witch and the former assassin had always been by your side, looking out for you and being there for your highs and lows.

Occasionally one of them would make a comment about a funny thing that happened on specific missions or about good memories with the team. So you learned where the burned patch in the kitchenfloor came from and why Peter was forbidden to be in Tony's lab alone. Eventually you had seen all the pictures and a comfortable silence fell over the three of you. You were sandwiched in between Wanda and Natasha and both were holding onto you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Wanda was the first to break the silence. There was no need to specify what she meant. You took a deep breath. Talking about it was never easy, but you know it would help. So you started talking and told them everything. Every little detail, your worries, how it affects your mental state and about how annoyed you were that this got you so worked up. Eventually you started crying again unable to hold your emotions back. Both of them listened while still holding you close, sometimes giving you reassuring words letting you know that they were listening. And you were right, talking about it made you feel a little bit better.

"This sounds so dumb and I hate myself for letting this get to me so bad. And sorry for loading all of this onto you" you concluded. "Stop right there!" Natasha suddenly said "Do not ever apologise for talking about how something makes you feel. It takes a lot of courage to open up to someone else about this. We both are so proud of you for taking this step and talking about this, I know it is not easy and do never, NEVER hate yourself for feeling a certain way. I know they are important to you, you wouldn't feel this way if they weren't". "Maybe you need some space, some distance, so you can figure things out on your end" Wanda added. You needed some time to let the words sink in before you replied "... you are probably right". The thought was not new to you. You had already considered it, but you didn't want to loose what you had before. "Give me your phone" Natasha demanded and you looked at her confused. "Why? what do you-" you tried but she interrupted you holding out her hand demandingly "just give it to me". And hesitantly you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dropped it into her open hand. "What are you doing?" you questioned as Natasha tapped on your phone. "I'm turning is off and putting it away, Wanda give me yours too" she held out her hand again for Wanda to hand her her phone. Then she got up and left the room. "Wha?-" you said still confused. "She wants to make sure that we all get some time off from social media" Wanda shrugged. "Exactly, digital detox" Natasha announced walking back into the room, closing the door behind her. "Time to relax, cuddle and watch some sitcoms" the words earned her a smile from Wanda.

"We got you y/n" she said "And we are here whenever"

.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~.・゜-: ✧ :- ゜~

#wandanat #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wandanat fluff #marvel #wanda x natasha #wandanat imagine #black widow imagine #scarlet witch imagine #black widow x scarlet witch x reader #scarlet widow #sheisnotalone #Spotify

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every-dayiwakeup · 2 years

Text

Handle with Love

TW: hints of smut, binge eating disorder (mentioned), body insecurities, misunderstandings, internalized fatphobia, flangst

The first and last time Steve calls Billy a wide load, it's said with a lazy smirk, his hands palming Billy's asscheeks.

"Well, you can watch this wide load walk away. Ain't worth a fucking black eye," Billy snarls. Smug dick doesn't need to know that he'll cry himself to sleep after stuffing his face, like always. Because he's fucking hungry. Starved for food, what it used to represent. His ma told him food had love in it, and the more love you put in, it goes to your sides. Called the squishy rolls on Billy's sides love handles. Now they're just rolls. Billy hasn't consumed love since he was ten years old. Never stopped him from searching. Hasn't done his body any favors.

"Are you... crying, Billy?"

He's so tired. Tired of the lies, the loneliness, the oscar worthy smiles-

"So what if I am?"

Steve's hairy hands brush his wet cheek. Billy stubbornly refuses to meet those cursed eyes. If doing so makes his double chin more apparent it's a risk he's willing to take.

"Shit, I'm sorry. For what it's worth, no one I've fucked has ever cum that fast."

Billy stares blankly. What?

"S nothing to be ashamed of. Kinda flattering actually."

"So when you said wide load..." Billy says slowly, his abdomen still tense. Has to be sure.

"What'd you think I meant?"

Billy lets out a harsh laugh, gesturing to the lingering effects of his incessant binging. Can't get any worse.

"I wouldn't..." Steve starts.

"Bull. King Steve, miss a chance to claim uncharted territory? Fuck the fatty, lead him on, just 'cause you're bored?" He's trembling now, bare gut quivering. Completely naked, a pink, disfigured display.

"You're a virgin?"

"That's what you took from what I said? I guess you finally found someone dumber than you, can't believe I fell for-"

Chapped lips press against the dome of his belly. Warmth fills his tight ribs.

Billy wants to look away, but King Steve's siren kisses lure him in. He wants those lips on his. Doesn't dare move an inch. Don't let this be a dream, let me have this-

Steve's mouth travels to iffy territory, the dreaded gathering of fat resting above his wide hips, cool saliva a contrast to Billy's hot stretched skin.

"H-Harrington, what're you doing?"

Steve looks up at him, two black holes wielding an unholy gravitational pull. No escape. Billy isn't sure he wants an out. Needs those eyes on him, and him only. "I love you," he says simply. He has no idea the whirlwind of emotions he's putting Billy through.

"You gonna kiss me or somethin'?" Billy whispers weakly. He's so damn weak for Steve. Maybe the only time he's not ashamed of being a coward. If this is the reward, he'll run away for the rest of his life.

"Got more ground to cover, first, bello." There's no mockery in his tone. He sounds kinda... excited at the idea? Another ingredient is present. Billy can't quite place it.

Steve rubs his thumbs up and down his muffin top. Billy whimpers.

"Are you okay?"

No.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Don't you dare.

"Why are you doing this?" Billy croaks, a lump forming in his throat.

"Putting aside the fact that I'm ass over fucking heels, I...I really like the way you look, and I want you to know that."

"You... like my blubber?" Billy can't help but snort disbelievingly.

"Fluff," Steve corrects, catching Billy's words before they swallow him whole and he drowns in his own tears.

"Fluff?" Billy repeats slowly, cocking his head in confusion.

"Yeah. Fluff. You don't like your body. That's okay. I'll smother you with love till you do."

Billy cracks a watery smile."Helluva promise, Harrington. Could take a lifetime."

"Good thing I'm following you, in every lifetime, then," Steve murmurs, fucking Artisan the way he shapes Billy's thorny crown into a pillow where he can lay his weary head to rest.

Billy finally gets what his mother meant. Steve is the missing ingredient, and he handles Billy with love, tracing each curve, swell, and dimple reverently.

He laughs to himself as Steve's magic thumbs knead his plush love handles. His mother would like Steve, he thinks, eyelids drooping.

I like him, too, Ma. I like him a lot.

*****

Tags:

@geormenia

@ouizzyharringrove

@emeraldwitches

@suspiciouslackofclowns

@jaethecreator

@justan-0-t-h-3-r

@spaceboxkitty

@polaris-ursae

@flayedintheusa

@talesfrom-theupsidedown

@whoringrove

@harringroveho

@harringrovetrashh

@namorian

@magellan-88

@phishyie

@wixterirox

@theabyssofdeathandexistence

@cherry-sorry

@thatawkwardlittlefangirl

@m0isttoenails

@shipworm

#billy hargrove #harringrove #tw body insecurity #tw eating disorder #red writes #chubby billy has my heart #and steves #chubby billy hargrove #theyre pretty but dumb #bless them #steve really needs to think about what he says #but it all works out in the end #harringrove solos #harringrove week #italian! steeb #i just keep thinking about Steve being what keeps Billy from getting lifted off the ground by his own thoughts #and now im crying #ig this is a part of the gravity series

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calummss · 2 years

Text

Hardships | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

summary: living and surviving in a place like small heath was hard enough. your rebellious daughter made it harder on you. thomas promises to get you out of the place

pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby

words: 3.5k

a/n: this takes place during s1 but tommy is significantly older in this fic, maybe 30?

‘Yes, put me through.’

‘Good morning, am I speaking with Mrs. Shelby?’ A woman's voice sounded from the receiver as you wrote down another check and filed it into the record book.

The store started to crowd like it did every monday morning, women but also men coming to buy new clothes. Some of them would write checks and hand them in before leaving.

Rich people gave no regard to the staff that worked day and night, or would stay up late to go over final touches so that the clothes could be bought and worn the next day. Being the best tailor at the store, needles poking into your skin almost constantly was no unfamiliar occurrence. You were also familiar with waking up early and leaving with a salary that would only last you a week at best. Your husband worked tirelessly on his business that was starting to gain popularity, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

‘Yes, this is Mrs. Shelby. Who am I speaking to?’ You gave a quick smile to Betty, pushing the check files towards her and pulled the telephone across the counter, excusing yourself to take the phone call.

‘I’m calling from Small Heath Elementary School. My name is Mrs. Tarly, headmistress of the school.’

‘Good morning to you,’ you played with the hem of your dress out of habit. ‘Is there something wrong?’

‘There is something wrong indeed, Mrs. Shelby.’ Her unusual high-pitched voice shrilled harshly, making you remove the receiver a couple of inches away from your ear to prevent ear damage.

‘What is it regarding?’ You pushed. For someone being so worked up about something she seemed to forget the part where one mentions the reason for being so worked up.

‘Your daughter, Mrs. Shelby,’ stern, but somehow sounded like she was on the verge of tears as she continued to explain the situation. ‘She is too much to handle on a monday morning or any time of the day when she’s out causing nothing but trouble.’ She took a deep breath, almost bracing herself. ‘Stealing from classmates? Starting fights out of pity? What are you teaching that young girl at home? This gypsy-behaviour won’t be tolerated at this school.’

‘Excuse me?’ Gypsy behaviour? Though the girl was only half that, was there no way to talk to a human being.

‘Please come to the school immediately to pick up your daughter, Mrs. Shelby. We will continue this conversation in person in my office.’

‘But I—‘ Your words were cut off by the sound of the receiver being placed back onto the switch hook.

Placing the phone back down yourself, you slid it back to the main part of the counter, smiling at Betty who was checking out a gorgeous gold ballgown you had completed last night.

‘The girl made trouble again?’ Betty’s smile added a small comfort to your position.

‘How did you know?’ You sighed, carefully grabbing your bag from one of the drawers.

‘What else could it be? Oh—‘ She turned to a customer and checked her out before distancing herself from the registry, her pink-painted eyelids lifting. ‘It’s okay.’ She grabbed your hands, gently squeezing them, ‘I’ll cover for you.’

You stared down at your intertwined hands laced with guilt as you would have to miss work again. Lifting your head, your lips rubbed against each other, your eyes saying more than you would be able to. You let her hands fall back to her hips and grabbed your black coat that had gotten quite hole-ridden but you hid it well.

‘I swear I’ll make it up to you.’ You placed a kiss against her cheek, adding a quick smile before heading out of the door.

Muddy streets, garbage filled pavements, parents barely making a living after laying everything down for the king, filled the slum of Small Heath, Birmingham. You loved the place. You grew up here, met the man you love and had a daughter. The Small Heath community was like a family, always watching out for each other, aiding anyone who needed it. But with crime riddled areas like your home, suspicion of certain crimes you knew Thomas participated in or was the cause for, grew. You wanted a better life. To move into a nice house where the chirping of nightingales woke you up to a sunny and green field beyond your eyes could see. Not the cries and shouts of men that were covered in dirt, head to toes, as they toss and turn like a pair of lion cubs without their mothers. You wanted a life others were jealous of. A life where people called you spoiled if your food touched the ground and you let it sit there for the animals, instead just getting a new piece. A life people would call plastic because it was too good to be true. A home that was safe for your daughter; not having to worry if any given moment would be the last you would see of her innocence.

The school was only a 15 minute walk away. On your way you walked past Lizzie who had just finished her grocery shopping like she did every monday, and Pete, the postman who insisted on cramming two letters into your hand instead of letting you wait and coming by later.

As you arrived at the entrance, walking through the empty field, Judy greeted you.

‘Hey you,’ you smiled, resting your hand on her neatly braided hair. Her brown skin glowing in the sunlight.

‘Lily is in trouble again.’ Walking towards the school she almost led the way, her shiny black shoes leaving trails of mud on the floor.

‘I know,’ you chuckled. ‘That’s why I’m here. Your mother is covering my shift at work again.’ You joked, poking her arm.’You tell her that she is the best mother ever,’

Judy nodded proudly.

Entering the building you could see Lily sitting on a chair at the end of the hall.

‘Are you okay?’ You crouched down to her level, holding her face with both of your hands as you examined her, knowing she most likely wasn’t hurt at all.

‘The question you should be asking, Mrs. Shelby,’ Mrs. Tarly towered the two of you, her old gray hair blocking the lights (she was stuck in her younger ages). ‘Is the other girl, okay?’

You cleared your throat, standing up to see a dark-haired lady behind Mrs. Tarly, a small girl next to her with a reddened cheek. The woman scoffed walking past you, bumping into your shoulder making you stumble. You only met it with a small cough.

‘If you would follow me, Mrs. Shelby.’

‘Of course.’ You glanced back at Lily who was accompanied by Judy, and stepped into the office, the door closing with the loud rustling of the blinds.

‘What type of behaviour is exhibited at home for Lily to act so savagely? An 11 year old girl should have manners and be able to distinguish right from wrong.’ Mrs. Tarly jumped straight to the point before you could even take your seat. ‘Even that Judy girl behaves better for her kind.’

‘Lily is growing up in a very loving home,’ you shifted uncomfortably, the fabric of your gloves starting to itch your dry winter skin. ‘I can assure you that, Mrs. Tarly. And there is no need to drag in something unrelated.’

A cup was placed before you, shortly being filled with a steaming cup of tea, though your thirst was not bothering you the way she spoke of Judy.

‘We all know of your husband’s reputation.’ Judgement.

You were so taken aback you were at a loss for words. You became worryingly aware of your own heartbeat. Each sign of life closing the space towards your chest.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘How can you say that Lily is growing up in a loving home when your husband enjoys himself physically hurting people for money.’ Thin red lips wrapped themselves around the porcelain teacup. Nothing but judgement clouded her eyes like the misty fog that swept over Small Heath way too often.

You were unprepared. You noticed that when you brainstormed for a possible reply but nothing. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the way she spoke to you and about your family. Stereotypes seeping through her gritty teeth.

‘I think it’s in order to give the girl some punishment, don’t you agree?’ She folded her wrinkly hands neatly, projecting a good catholic woman that was deemed way too religious to be angry with . ‘A suspension for one week seems appropriate. What do you say, Mrs. Shelby?’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Tarly,’ you clutched your bag tight to your stomach, lifting yourself off the chair, her eyes following your movement. ‘I think I might have given you the wrong impression. Lily won’t be coming back.’

‘What?’ She too stood up, bracing herself on the table.

‘I’m also sure that when I speak to Mrs. Brown, Judy’s mother as you know,’ you readjust your handbag, ‘Judy also won’t be coming back.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You in particular have shown me today that your school is not capable of handling children in their natural nature. Nor are you able to be kind to people that don’t look like me, though your Gyspy stereotypes are quite the entertainment.’ You chuckled. ‘I don’t feel comfortable sending Lily here anymore when much better options are available to me.’ You glanced around the room, kindly judging it with a fake smile. ‘Good day now.’

Lily was still sitting on the chair, Judy was gone, most likely in class.

‘Come on now, dear.’ You placed your hand on Lily’s shoulder, placing her hat on her head and strutted away through the long hallway, Mrs. Tarly not being able to keep her eyes off you, in shock to have a person treat her like she wasn’t the number one person to respect.

‘I can’t keep picking you up at school, Lily,’ you walked the same way back. The tension rose as the dark clouds started to cloud the blue sky. ‘I have a job that I need to work for to be able to feed you.’

Lily, mute since the second you saw her did not break her silence, her quiet breaths making you feel made fun of.

‘We aren’t rich like a lot of your now ex-classmates. I need to work and you getting in trouble is prohibiting me from doing just that.’ Sucking cold fresh breaths through your teeth felt like it was cooling down your building anger.

‘But Daddy’s business is good.’ Lily finally spoke, her shiny black shoes that Thomas had worked for for an entire month hit the pavement.

‘Not good enough…’ A heavy sigh fell from your lips, immediately worrying about the business because it was all that Thomas was thinking about.

‘She called me a gypsy, Mummy!’

‘Suck it up!’ You stopped at the corner that would lead to the Garrison. ‘The world is tough.’ You stared down at her, her lips pressing against each other. ‘We’re running out of schools and you need an education! You’re a modern girl in a modern world. Some people aren’t even allowed to go to school because of the way they look. You’re taking this for granted when other people wish for a life like yours.’ You caught your breath, shaky hand resting on your forehead.

Lily did not seem interested in the conversation, her eyes trailing to a group of boys that were taking turns playing with marbles. You nudged her arm to focus her back on what you were saying though you didn’t believe much change would happen.

‘Do you want to depend on your husband?’

‘You do.’ So disinterested, her tone was far from kind.

‘I make my money by making dresses.’

‘You basically work for free and let Daddy pay for everything.’ She crossed her arms. Her once white socks covered in dirt at the back of her calves with the constant polishing of her shoes when she was nervous.

With the words Lily had ushered you were in a state of disbelief.

‘I don’t want to hear another word from you until we are home!’

‘But—‘

‘Lily, I mean it.’ You started picking up your pace again, the weight of disappointment in your heart was heavy. ‘Hold it or I swear it you’ll be doing housework instead of enjoying your childhood.’

You didn’t mean it, Lily knew that too. She knew you were angry and that she had been disrespectful, her too feeling something heavy in her chest. You weren’t an angry person but when you were pushed to your limits it meant that it was serious, and she knew not to speak another word or the pot would overflow and add more damage.

Arriving at number 7 Watery Lane, the smell of burning cigarettes, whiskey, and sweat his your senses, adding to the burning flame within, as you walked through the door. Polly, who was sitting in the kitchen, her eyes on the newspaper, noticed that something was wrong, but before you could speak you had already walked past her. Blank expression giving her the hint of what had happened.

‘Tommy love, can you please come here?’ You stood at the green door frame not wanting to push your way past men.

Thomas turned around, cigarette sitting on his lips, his eyes droopy from the lack of sleep. ‘Give me 10 minutes.’

‘No, Tommy. Now.’ Crossing your arms you met the stares of men who felt way too comfortable in your own (part time) house.

‘5 minutes.’

‘I swear to god, Tommy!’ Your voice now grew attention of every individual that was either in the room betting, or people that stood outside the doors waiting to place their bets, but you did not care. ‘I have had a very bad day,’ you laughed, anger still to be detected, ‘and now you’re making it worse. Get up and come to the living room before I leave!’

The men in the room found amusement at the scene. A man’s entertainment would always point back to a woman.

‘Are you laughing at my wife?’ The cold voice of Thomas sent an immediate silence in the room, coughs and quiet sorrys filling the now empty silence. ‘The next time someone laughs at my wife, this bullet,’ Thomas held up the bullet, placing it into the revolver, ‘will go through their body and I won’t be cleaning the mess.’

As if the room couldn’t get any quieter, it did. Thomas walked over to Lovelock telling him to continue with the bets placed before his breath finally met yours, a half-worried look on his face.

You sat down at the table, Thomas closing the door to finally give you some privacy.

‘She’s been in trouble again.’

Lily met the eyes of her father. ‘They called me a fucking gypsy, Daddy, so I punched her in the face. It is what she deserved.’ Lily crossed her arms and sat back in her seat, sullen faced.

Thomas however smiled.

‘Nice one, Lily,’ the corners of his lips widened, high fiving here and instantly getting rid of her sad face. ‘Did you make sure your—‘

‘I’m sorry, is this funny?’ You cut in, now in utter disbelief and disappointment as you met Tommy’s gaze which had fallen back to his neutral tone that was driving you to your tipping point. ‘I was denied an education simply because I was a girl. She has the chance and you’re letting her get away with that? Do you not care about Lily’s future?’

‘Of course I care.’ The argument had affected Thomas but he hid it well.

Why he always hid his feelings you would never know. That the war had affected Thomas negatively you knew and experienced, but you missed the old Thomas just a small bit.

‘Really?’ You scoffed, your tongue gliding between your teeth as you fought every urge not to scream out. ‘ ‘Cause it doesn’t fucking seem like you do. Always going on about this fucking betting shop and how we’ll soon leave, day and night! It’s all bullshit, Thomas. We were born into nothing and we will die the same fucking way! My hope in everything has stopped and I don’t know what to fucking do anymore.’ The tears that welled in your eyes blurring your vision.

‘Y/n—‘

‘Don’t,’ you got out of your seat and back away from the table, hiding your tears. ‘I need some fucking fresh air.’ Leaving the two to themselves.

For a while they both said nothing. Silences that appeared too often in the Shelby household, a familiar feeling that one could never escape. Their guilt heavy in their hearts that bled with love for you, the person they loved the most. The woman that did so much for her family when she could only do so little. Going to work with dark circles under her eyes, tired from fixing up Lily’s dress in the early morning hours. Feeding her family, doing the washing, making sure her uniform was clean every single day, even though life was tiring her to the bone.

‘I made mummy really angry didn’t I?’ Picking at the skin around her nails, pain seared through her fingers. ‘I said something mean but I didn’t mean it.’

Thomas’ sigh sat heavy in the air, rough hand massaging his jaw. ‘Me too, Lily,’ He knew he upset you. Anger was a rare sight to see in your eyes. ‘Did mummy ever tell you that she was upset with me?’

‘No,’ staring at nothing, eyes focusing every few seconds. ‘But she cried a lot of nights when you were gone.’

Thomas threw his head back, angry with himself, the word fuck the only thing on his mind.

‘Daddy,’ Lily stood up and sat next to Thomas, her eyes seeking out his comfort. ‘Earlier I told mummy that she doesn’t really work for money and that she depends on you. And how her money doesn’t really support us…’

‘Your mother is a very hardworking person and amazing mother. We both made mistakes and should apologise to her because we love her and don’t want her to be angry.’

She nodded.

‘What about your business, Daddy?’

‘You know I would never lie to you right?’

‘Yeah,’

‘This business is starting to go places,’ his hands rested upon her shoulders. ‘I promise that I will do everything in my power to give you and mummy a better life.’

Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, sweetheart. Don’t you ever forget that.’

‘Tommy, where are you taking me?’ Rough gravel made you lose balance as he pushed you forward.

‘Wait and see, darling.’

You didn’t know where you were, a blindfold had been placed onto your eyes in Small Heath. You knew that you drove for a short while but you actually were a mystery.

‘A few more steps,’ Tommy instructed, the giggles of Lily you could hear from behind. ‘Aaand right here. Okay, stop.’

‘Can I take off the blindfold?’

‘Yes.’ The smell of his cigarette invaded your senses as your fingers moved towards your face.

In front of you stood the prettiest house you had ever seen. Big enough to fit three to four Watery Lane houses in it. The house was surrounded by acres of the greenest grass you had ever seen.

Tears welled in your eyes as Lily jumped up and down in excitement. Rushing to hug Thomas, he stepped back.

‘Before you give me all your love there’s one more thing.’

‘What could you possibly give me after this?’ You laughed wholeheartedly, wet cheeks reflecting the sunlight.

Thomas’ gloved hand disappeared into the pockets of his coat to reveal a notepad and a pencil.

‘What’s this for?’ You accepted the items, confused as to why this was another gift.

‘This notepad and pencil is for your speech you're going to hold this saturday at the opening of the Shelby School Institution for Young and Gifted Girls.’

‘I—, Wha—, Thomas I—‘

‘Girls in Birmingham of all races, class, and everything else that divides us will be able to get free education until the age of 18. You are the founder and owner of the institution. Now let us hurry into the house because we have a meeting with the first new teachers that will teach there.’

‘I love you so much.’ Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck pulling him into a kiss.

Maybe dreams and hopes shouldn’t be given up.

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