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izurou · 1 year

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“say ‘i’m the man!’”

eren’s voice carries down the hall, boisterous and loud as it easily reaches every corner of your small one bedroom apartment.

you furrow your brows and glance in the general direction of the sound, but decide to ignore it and continue on with breakfast—gathering a dollop of strawberry jam on your knife before spreading it onto a piece of toast.

you’d rather not know what the two of them are up to, eren and your two year old son that is. he’s supposed to be getting the kid ready for the day, but whether or not that’s actually happening is a different story.

“i’m da man!” his little voice repeats the sentence—not quite as powerful as his dad, but still loud enough to find your ears.

“louder!” eren shouts, and you immediately drop what you’re doing to head towards them.

your slippers scuff against the floor as you shuffle down the hall, following the source of sound until it leads you just outside the bathroom door. you nudge it with your foot, causing it to creep open and reveal the duo—your son, who’s standing on the counter, and eren, who—at the very least, is holding onto him.

“hi,” eren grins, prompting his mini me to do the same. you note the atrocious man bun, well, little man bun your son is sporting—hair haphazardly pulled together at the back of his head.

eren gestures to him, pride flooding his features as he mumbles, “he’s the man.”

“oh yeah?” a smile tugs at your own lips—every ounce of authority you waltzed over here with threatening to vanish into thin air as you look at your little family. nevertheless, someone has to enforce the rules around here. “well, tell the man that if he doesn’t keep it down, he’s not getting any chocolate milk with his breakfast.”

the two of them exchange a glance, an identical look of concern—real and genuine from your son, dramatic and over the top from your fiancé.

“should we go eat?” eren whispers to him, naively expecting him to follow in his footsteps again.

“yeah!” your son yells, excitement filling his eyes at the mention of his all time favourite beverage. he sets a new record every time he chugs a glass, and always gets a kick out of the little moustache he gets afterwards—loving that he looks like dad.

“buddy,” eren laughs as he lightly cups a hand over the toddler’s mouth. “shhh, quiet okay? you heard the boss, no chocolate milk if you yell.”

your son puts his hand over his own mouth and nods his head, prompting eren to lift him onto the floor and send him scurrying off into the kitchen—little feet padding against the hardwood.

“what the hell?” you say, keeping your voice low to ensure your baby doesn’t hear. “it’s 8 o’clock in the morning, why are you shouting?”

“hey, i’m instilling confidence in him,” he pouts, having heard you mention something along those lines once or twice—about how important it is for him to be proud of who he is.

“eren,” you sigh, because you know he means well—he wants nothing but the absolute best for your son too, which is why he more or less lets him do as he pleases.

he encourages him to jump around and dance to his favourite songs, and doesn’t care that he gets marker all over his face when he colours. he’ll give him bear paws before dinner, and hold his hand as the two of them run and giggle down the halls of your apartment building, because they’re just so happy to come home and see you after a trip to the grocery store.

eren lets your kid be a kid, and while that might put a scowl on the face of those around you, all that matters is that your son is always smiling.

“i know, just,” you pause, searching for the right words—the ones that won’t paint you as the bad cop you feel you’re being. though, you look into eren’s eyes, and see nothing but the purest love and adoration overflowing from his pupils, and you know—he thinks you’re doing perfect. “just, wait until after ten at least, okay? that old couple next door already has us on their shit list.”

“course, ‘m sorry baby,” he hums—cupping your cheek with a grin that’s a little too smug and out of place to be there right now. “but you know, you got us on that list, not him.”

“me?” you tilt your head, racking your brain for a time in which you might’ve pissed them off. did you forget to hold the door open? shit.

“mhmm,” he hums, moving his hand to the back of your head to hold you flush against him, and you look adorable—in the reflection of the mirror, with your little thinking face on and your cheek squished against him. he almost feels guilty.

“what did i—”

“nghhh eren, that feels soooo good,” he moans, quiet and sultry—changing the pitch of his voice slightly in an attempt to mimic your own.

“eren!” you gasp, planting your palms flat on his chest to push him away. “shut up, you’re the only reason i sound like that.”

“damn right,” he grins, pulling you right back in for a messy kiss—hands sneaking underneath your shirt and travelling up your—

crash.

“oh no,” you mumble, peeling yourself away from him once more. your son—who’s been alone and suspiciously quiet for the last five minutes, is now doing god knows what in the kitchen. “go check on your satan spawn, would you?”

“hey,” he frowns, swiftly backing out of the room and towards the noise, but not without putting on a quick smile to clarify, “our satan spawn.”

you roll your eyes, but still feel the corners of your lips tug upwards. eren is far from perfect, but he’s pretty good at keeping a smile on your face too.

#izurou #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #eren x you #eren yeager x reader #snk x reader #eren fluff

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steddielations · 7 months

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Wayne pov, implied neglect, abandonment

Wayne gets a call from Hawkins Elementary that Eddie hasn’t been to school in two days.

They couldn’t get ahold of Al on the phone, as usual. Wayne hopes his suspicions are wrong, but he already knows what he’s going to find when he shows up to the shabby old house on Philadelphia street with a McDonald’s bag in hand.

His knock on the door goes unanswered, but he sees small fingers and big round eyes peeking through the side window blinds.

“Hey, Eddie, it’s your Uncle Wayne. Open the door, it’s alright.”

Eddie shuffles away from the window, but there’s still no answer.

“You hungry? I brought those nugget things you like, that’s all. Some kinda toy in here too.”

After a moment, the door slowly opens a sliver. One big button eye peeks through the crack and a pale skinny arm reaches out.

Wayne hands over the food. “Gonna let me come inside?”

Eddie’s arm snakes back in with the bag like a claw machine. But after another moment, the door swings open fully, revealing Eddie in rumpled clothes at least a couple days worn. The shadows under his eyes tell Wayne all he needs to know.

“Dad’s gone to the store,” Eddie smiles nervously, he didn’t inherit Al’s ability to lie behind it. “He said he’ll be right back.”

Wayne just nods as he comes inside. One look around confirms what he already knew. By the window, there’s a blanket and a scatter of candy wrappers and empty soda cans where Eddie’s been sleeping. Waiting and watching the driveway for Al.

This wouldn’t be the first time Al’s gone off and left Eddie to fend for himself. Wayne’s been helping out as much as he can since Eddie’s poor mama passed. He doesn’t know much about raising kids but he knows Al’s one dumb selfish bastard to be leaving Eddie alone for days since the ripe age of 8.

Wayne ignores the twist in his chest and the stab of anger he feels and doesn’t mention it. He follows Eddie to the coffee table in front of the couch where Eddie digs into the McDonald’s sack.

“School called and said you weren’t there. You feelin’ bad?” He reaches out, gently pushing back Eddie’s wild curls to feel his forehead. He’s surprised Eddie lets him, too busy scarfing down chicken nuggets. “No fever.” Wayne notes, but Eddie’s hair needs a good wash.

Eddie’s narrow shoulders slump a bit. He doesn’t look at Wayne, tearing open his chocolate milk with his teeth.

“I just— didn’t wanna go today. I hate school. Miss Taylor always gives me a bad behavior grade even when I act the best in class. She calls me Junior. Munson Junior.”

“Thought you liked being called Junior. Like your dad.”

Eddie shrugs, those shadows darkening on him. “Everyone forgets I have my own name too. Sometimes I just wanna be Eddie.”

Already, he’s feeling the weight of his last name. Al taught him to hotwire the second he turned 10 and how to pick locks even before that. Munson tradition, Al wouldn’t listen when Wayne told him that’s bullshit. What seem like cool tricks to Eddie now already make him guilty in everyone’s eyes. Wayne’s been feeling it all his life, thanks to his old man and now Eddie’s got Al to thank for making it even worse.

“That’s good, you just keep reminding them,” Wayne says, being careful with his next words. “When you finish that, why don’t you go pack a bag, alright? You can come stay with me until your dad gets back.”

Eddie goes stiff, chewing slower now. “It— it hasn’t been long. He said he’d be right back.” His eyes drift over to Wayne, checking to see if he buys it. Wayne doesn’t. So Eddie huffs, “I wanna stay here. I hate the trailer park.”

That’s just him repeating Al’s shit talk, so Wayne doesn’t take offense. “Your friend’s been askin’ about you. That little girl next door.”

Eddie perks up at that, “Ronnie?” Wayne nods and thinks that does the trick for a second, but Eddie stubbornly sulks again. “I can’t go. Dad told me to stay here until he gets back.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be here alone. You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not scared to stay by myself,” Eddie insists, sitting up straighter, looking even younger trying to look older. “Dad said I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m 10 now and I can look after myself. He taught me to use the stove and everything. I always do fine on my own.”

“So he’s been leaving a lot, then? You know you can call me to come pick you up,” Wayne tries not to frame it like it’s Eddie’s fault, pointing to where his phone number is pinned on the fridge with a magnet.

Eddie’s lip wobbles despite how he tries to square his jaw.

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“You ain’t—”

“You said to call if I need you and I don’t need you, Wayne! I'm fine!”

Eddie shoves the food away, his eyes wide and shiny when he cuts them back to Wayne. Not glaring with anger, just hurt.

“It’s not fine,” Wayne tells him, gentle as the first time he held him, just a tiny thing all bundled up in Elizabeth’s knitting. “Your dad’s got his head in his ass again. You can’t stay here on your own, no matter what he said. I ain’t leaving you by yourself.”

“I’m not going.” Eddie’s more pleading now than arguing. “I have to stay here so Dad can find me when he gets back. Don’t you get that? If I’m not here, I won’t see him.”

That’s what it’s really about, Eddie thinking it’s his responsibility to keep up with his Dad. Instead of the other way around.

“If he comes looking for you, he’ll know where to find you.” But Al won’t. It’s never Eddie that he comes back for. Wayne doesn’t tell Eddie that, but now Eddie’s starting to learn that on his own. Al proved it to him time and time again.

“Why do you even care?” Eddie’s angry now. But it’s not really Wayne that he’s mad at. They both know that.

“It’s alright, son, c’mon now.” Wayne reaches for him but Eddie quickly pushes his hand away.

“You aren’t my dad.” Tears escape with the words, and seeing his pain hurts Wayne more than anything he could say, or do. He pushes Wayne again. “So why do you care? Why are you here?”

He doesn’t need an answer, he just needs to let it out.

So Wayne sits there while Eddie shoves his chest and cries harder, “You aren’t my dad. Why do you care?” Wayne curls his hands around Eddie’s smaller ones as the question turns to, “Why aren’t you?” Then it’s a broken little sob of, “Why aren’t you my dad?”

Wayne catches Eddie when he finally tires himself out, and instead of pushing Wayne away, Eddie’s clinging to him. Eddie’s holding on like Wayne’s all he’s got left in the world. Wayne hugs Eddie to his chest, wishing there was more he could do.

Al put a hole in Eddie and he’s digging it deeper everyday, one that Wayne won’t ever quite fit into. He tries to fill it the best he can, giving Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer, going to the talent show because Al never makes good on his promises to be there for Eddie, not letting Eddie stay in this damn house alone waiting for someone who’s never gonna show up. Maybe Wayne’s not that someone, but he can still be here for Eddie. And he’s gonna be.

“C’mon, let’s get you outta here.”

#munson family stuff on the mind sorry #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #ficlet #ronnie ecker #al munson #rueswriting #mp

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spitgobbler · 3 months

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I ♥︎ Daddy

here is todays shower thoughts blurb since i randomly thought of those ‘yes, daddy?’ panties(pls don’t let me be the only one who remembers them circulating at one point?!)😭 … enjoy my ted talk 🫶🏻

pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader

tags: daddy kink into slight ddlg, age gap, leon uses his fingers on you, dirty talk, clothed, aftercare, uhhh yeah!

It was always just a joke, a tease you did to Leon. A brief ‘yes, daddy’ falling from your lips whenever he asked if you ate that day or if you could grab him a beer from the fridge.

You never thought much of it but Leon had lots of thoughts about it. Always made him so fucking hard each time that damn name spilled from those sugary sweet lips of yours.

Had him manspreading even more on the worn couch of his apartment to hide his hard on while accepting the alcoholic drink with an appreciative kiss. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep.

Leon already had a few moments where he felt awkward from the looks the two of you sometimes received while out on dates. The misunderstandings of him being your dad. You never cared when it occurred, responding with an easy “No, he’s my boyfriend,” and moving on with the date without a care in the world.

At least that made him feel better, it reassured him. Leon didn’t exactly date you because you were so much younger. Well, it was a bit flattering he still managed to pull such a pretty young thing at his age but he also loved you for how smart and attentive you were. But he also loved how much you needed him, maybe it was a bit of a complex he developed from his line of work.

He knew another one of your jokes were about to take place when you pull away from his side, his strong thighs feeling empty without your smooth legs laying across them now, and yanking the front door open to retrieve a package.

“What’s got you in a hurry baby?” Leon sat up slightly on the couch with curious look.

Leon was met with a giggle and a mischievous smile, not any proper answer though as you opt to flee off into the bathroom. He’s left scratching his head at your typical silly behavior but he just remains seated back on the couch.

It’s not long before you come back, blocking his view of the TV. Arms crossed and a cute grin pulled up on your face.

He lets a brow raise, “And now you got this bratty look…”

Oh, but he’s quick to watch you as your hands grip the waistband of those adorable fuzzy hello kitty pajama pants you made him buy you.

“Hey, I’m not a brat!” You get caught up easily in protesting against his words, nothing in that sweet little head of yours except Leon and whether or not Mocha and Usahana would get a build-a-bear plush.

Leon simply just gives you a look, as if you’re foolish for trying to deny it. “Uh huh… just continue.”

And there it goes again, that saccharine voice saying ‘yes, daddy’ while you inch those pajama pants down your hips and legs.

Fuck, why is it like a sucker punch straight to the gut every time you call him that? He bites back a groan but his darkening eyes say everything when he sees those light pink panties on you. The words ‘I ♥︎ daddy’ printed in a darker pink right where the cotton fabric clothes your mound and on the back right on the swells of your bottom.

Leon tries to compose himself, he can’t handle these jokes anymore and frankly, it’s feeling like it isn’t a joke anymore.

“Sweetheart, what’s this about?” He asks.

You tilt your head at him, responding like it was no big deal. “Huh? S’just a joke Leon. Like how I tease you and call you daddy because you’re old enough to be my daddy?”

Head falling back against the couch, he groans and mumbles. “Just a joke? Just a joke.”

You’re left feeling confused. Usually he’ll laugh all sarcastic, sometimes even spank your butt in playful retaliation.

The older man lifts his head up, eyes boring into yours then down to those panties again. Before you know it, his strong calloused hand is pulling you onto his muscled thighs, chest against your back.

“Just a joke?” Leon repeats huskily against your neck, keeping your thighs open by resting your legs outside of his.

A shiver runs down your spine and heat invades your cheeks. You try to nod, “Y-Yeah, seen em’ online randomly.”

The rough fingertips of his right hand graze up and down your supple thighs. Back and forth, back and forth like waves. You feel it, that tingle in your core as he teases you. Maybe it’s what you deserve after torturing the poor man.

“You think a man at my age is stupid, baby?” Leon asks softly, his fingers finally touching your clothed cunt. “I may still use a flip phone but I know it wasn’t random, you got an algorithm.”

Your breath hitches at his touch and words. You kick yourself inwardly for being so damn obvious, attempting to whimper out a protest at his statement.

His padded fingers rub at your cunt, the cloth of those silly panties adding delicious friction. The soft pink gusset darkening as your arousal begins to taint them. Just how he wanted.

It’s hard to stay still as his fingers move upward to rub soft circles against your clit. Back pressing against his chest as you squirm in pleasure.

“S’Okay baby, I know dumb little girls like you need a man like me. A daddy to care for them and provide.” Leon cooed, letting himself indulge in the very thing he was at conflict with since it was very clear both of you were on the same page.

Your thighs instinctively try to clench together from pure arousal at his words but they are kept open by his legs. Mind turning mushy at this point and Leon just kept saying all the right things.

He rubs at your needy little cunt with more pressure, sending consistent pulses of heat to your tummy.

“And I’m so very happy to do that for you, doll.” Scratchy stubble brushes against your soft warm cheek as he kisses it. “Make you hold onto your plushie as I take you like a good girl.”

Your hips buck at that and a desperate moan spills out. The older man couldn’t hold back a groan of his own, fingers pressing and rubbing at your panties with fervor.

“Wonder you good you could color in the lines while I spoil your pretty little princess parts.” All of his dirty thoughts are spilling out as he plays with you and it’s sending both of you into a heated frenzy.

Rough messy circles on your clothed clit has you trembling and a lewd squeal rings out. “Daddy, daddy!” Is all you can manage to slur out and it just makes Leon’s cock ache even harder against you.

Leon doesn’t let up though, rubbing and rubbing at that bundle of nerves, spoiling it with his calloused fingers as he turns you into a mess. Showering your needy little pearl with affectionate caresses that set you ablaze on his lap, squirming and gasping as your heart pounds.

Leon allows himself to manspread even more, your legs pried open even wider. “If you love your daddy so much then you’ll be a good girl and show him how much you love him, won’t you?”

Several harsh rubs against your swollen clit has your back arching off his chest and your toes curling. Warmth and shivers flooding your body as you fall over the edge and cum.

“Thank you daddy, thank you.” You blabber out messily.

Panting as your hips buck from the intense waves of ecstasy course through your heated body. Leon guides you through your orgasm and stops before overstimulating you.

Almost instantly he closes his legs just slightly to help ease the strain and make you more comfortable. His affectionate cooing started right away, holding you closely to him as you come down from your high.

“So good for daddy,” Leon mumbled and pressed several kisses to your cheek. “Let’s get you comfy and clean.”

You nodded a bit sluggishly at his words, turning your head to try and kiss him properly which he laughs softly at. Leon lays you down gently on the couch and changes the tv to play something more your speed.

His hands reach for your soaked panties, pulling them down and off your legs, wordlessly pocketing them before making way into the kitchen. He’s not gone for long, coming back with some water and a wet rag.

“Drink this, baby.” The cup of water had a straw in it and he looks at you seriously but you had no problems obeying him.

Leon hums as he carefully cleans up your sensitive parts since he didn’t want you to get oversensitive and feel pain instead.

Now, with everything in order, he sat down and situated you so your head laid on his lap. His hands caressing and playing with your hair soothingly.

“I meant what I said, you know?” His voice a calm rumble. He gives you time to voice your disapproval but when you don’t, he continues. “Think about what you want as a reward for being so good for daddy, for now though, get some rest.”

You respond with a ‘yes, daddy’ and your daddy squeezes your cheeks playfully. The response reminding him of all your jokes but perhaps hints was a better word for it.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x fem!reader smut

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springtyme · 3 months

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𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐝 ♡

Spencer being a fish dad is so important and special to me.

Spencer Reid x f!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Spencer comes home to find you sleeping on his couch and suddenly he can't help but ask you to take the next step in your relationship.

word count: 2.0k

You contemplate if you should knock again or wait longer for a response, but with the silence that followed your first knock, you feel pretty sure that neither will produce a new result. You had really hoped that Spencer would be home. You could, of course, just have called him and checked, but you had thought that surprising him would be nice.

It’s early Friday evening and you were supposed to spend your night with some of your girlfriends but the plans fell through at the last minute, which you secretly had been quite relieved about. You have been feeling exhausted lately and all you really want is to share a lazy evening with your boyfriend.

As it becomes clear that Spencer isn’t home, you reach into your purse, rummaging around until you get your hands on your keychain, which now includes the spare key that Spencer had given you a few months back. You have not used it yet, and you feel a little nervous about doing so now, not wanting to invade his private space, but he had given you the key and insisted that you use it whenever you needed or wanted to.

Turning the key in the lock, you push the door open and step inside. The familiar scent of Spencer’s apartment surrounds you, making you feel instantly at home. Toeing off your shoes, and dumping your keys back into your purse, you leave them by the door and make your way further into the apartment. Your sock clad feet padding softly across the living room carpet.

You step over to the aquarium, where Spencer’s fish dart around, seemingly happy to see you, or at least you like to imagine so. You smile at them, automatically searching for your favorite, the one guppy with a slightly lighter tail and fins than the others. It’s the only one you can single out from the others, who you have lovingly named Finn, which quickly turned into Finley, and which Spencer had found quite amusing.

“Hey Finley,” you whisper, tapping very, very lightly on the glass. The guppy swims closer, as if in response to your voice, and you can’t help but feel a sense of connection with the little creature. “Where’s your dad at, huh, bud?” you ask, knowing that you won’t get an answer but still wanting to fill out the silence in the room.

You make your way over to the couch, and you can’t help but smile as you take in the sight of the pile of books scattered on the coffee table.

You notice a familiar book lying on the coffee table. It’s one you had been reading together, taking turns reading chapters to each other. You pick it up, running your fingers over the pages and feeling a pang of love and longing in your chest.

You settle onto the couch, tucking your legs underneath you and opening the book to where you last left off. As you begin to read, you can almost hear Spencer’s voice in your mind, soft and soothing, reading the words with a warmth that always makes you feel at peace. The sound of his voice, the way he’ll pause at certain moments to make a point or emphasize a passage, it all comes flooding back to you. You can almost see him sitting beside you, his eyes focused on the pages, a small smile playing on his lips.

Lost in the world of the book, you continue to read, the words transporting you to another place and time. The gentle ticking of the clock on the wall fades into the background as you immerse yourself in the story, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over you.

But as the minutes pass, you start to feel the heaviness of sleep creeping in. Your eyelids grow heavy, and before you know it, you're drifting off, the book slipping from your grasp as you succumb to the pull of slumber.

You find yourself sinking deeper into the soft cushions of the couch, a sense of contentment washing over you as you let yourself relax completely. The last thing you hear before you drift off completely is the sound of the fish tank bubbling softly in the background, a soothing lullaby that carries you off to sleep.

· · · · ·

As Spencer turns the key in the lock, he feels a sense of relief wash over him. It has been a long day at work, and all he wants is to come home to the comfort of his own space and decompress, ideally with you, but he guess he’ll have to settle for just a few texts, maybe a phone call if he’s lucky.

He knows you have plans and he doesn’t want to disturb you, but he really misses you, despite having seen you only a few days ago. If it was up to Spencer he would see you every day.

As he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his jacket, he notices a pair of familiar shoes by the door that definitely aren’t his and a smile tugs at his lips, feeling a surge of warmth in his chest at the thought of you being here. The hardwood floor creaks softly under his feet as he makes his way further into the apartment, following the gentle scent of your perfume that softly lingers in the air.

As he makes his way into the living room, he can’t help but smile even wider at the sight he’s met with. You, fast asleep on his couch, the book he had been reading with you clutched in your hand. He watches as you breathe softly, the rise and fall of your chest a comforting sight amidst the chaos of his day. His heart swells with affection at the sight of you, so peaceful and serene in your slumber.

He can’t help but admire the way the soft glow of the lamp illuminates your features, casting a warm light over your face.

Quietly setting down his bag, he moves closer. His steps careful as to not wake you as he crosses the room, and sits down beside you. He feels how his heart skips a beat as he marvels at how beautiful and content you look, so utterly at ease in his home.

He leans in close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, causing you to stir slightly in your sleep and Spencer feels a surge of tenderness wash over him as he sits himself down on the floor next to you. He settles back against the side of the couch, content to just sit and watch you for a while longer. Finding you here was the best surprise ever.

As he gazes at you, he can’t help but think about how lucky he is to have you in his life. You bring him so much joy, so much light, that he can’t imagine his world without you in it. He’s so glad that you felt comfortable enough to come in, even when he’s not home.

He has never felt like this with anyone before, where he feels so at ease with someone else in his space, and who seemingly enjoys being with him despite his quirks and idiosyncrasies. He knows that you understand him in a way that few others do, and he cherishes that connection more than words can express. It’s a feeling so deep that he can’t quite put it into words, despite his proficiency with language.

After a few minutes of simply sitting in the quiet of the moment, with the soft hum of the aquarium pump in the background and the gentle sound of your chest rising and falling as you sleep, as the only sounds in the room, Spencer brings his hand to your cheek, gently stroking the soft skin of your cheekbone, his touch light and tender. He can’t help but smile at the way you unconsciously lean into his touch, even in your sleep.

Spencer watches as you begin to stir, a soft smile gracing your lips as you wake, your eyes starting to softly flutter open. As your gaze meets his, a look of confusion quickly gives way to recognition and a warm smile spreads across your face.

“Hey,” you say softly, your voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

“Hey,” Spencer responds, his own smile widening. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Yeah,” you reply, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a contented sigh. “I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in. My plans got canceled and I missed you, so I thought I would wait for you to get home.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Spencer replies, his heart swelling with affection. “I’m glad you did.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, savoring the moment of closeness between you. “I love having you here with me, always.”

You smile at him. “That’s lucky cause I love being here,” you say, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder.

“You’re always welcome here,” Spencer says, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.

“Careful what you say,” you tease, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I might just take you up on that offer and never leave.”

Spencer feels a surge of warmth and longing at your words, his heart full with love for you. The question he has wanted to ask you for a while, but never found the right moment to, suddenly feels like it’s pressing against his chest, demanding to be spoken. He takes a deep breath, gathering his courage, and meets your gaze with unwavering determination.

“Well, that wouldn’t really be such a bad thing,” he begins, his voice soft yet resolute. “I know this might be a bit sudden, but...” he trails off, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves wash over him. But he pushes through, taking your hands in his and looking into your eyes with sincerity. “I was wondering if maybe... you would consider moving in with me? I love having you here, and I just can’t imagine my life without you in it. And I want us to create a home together. You obviously don’t have to answer now, and we don’t need to live here if you don’t want to. We could live at your place, or find somewhere new if that is what you want. I just want to be with you, in whatever way makes you happy,” he says, feeling the weight of his words hang in the air between you.

Spencer’s heart pounds in his chest as he awaits your answer, hoping beyond hope that you feel the same way he does, that you want to take the next step in your relationship together.

Your eyes have turned wide as you look at him with surprise and Spencer holds his breath, waiting for your response. But soon your shocked face turns into a bright smile, and tears start to glisten in your beautiful eyes. “I would love that, Spence” you say softly

Spencer’s face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes shining with happiness. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm, leaning in to kiss him, sealing your promise with a tender touch of your lips. Spencer wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. He feels a surge of joy and relief wash over him at your answer.

You both sit there in a bubble of happiness, basking in the warmth of your love for each other. “I love you,” Spencer whispers, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I love you too,” you reply, pressing your forehead against his. “And I would love to live here with you, Spence.”

He feels like his heart is going to burst with happiness at your words, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and love for you. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have found someone who not only accepts him for who he is but also wants to build a future together with him.

“I can’t wait to have you here with me, every day,” Spencer whispers, his voice filled with love and gratitude.

Spencer pulls you in for another kiss, his heart overflowing with love for you. And as you snuggle closer to him, he couldn’t be happier to have found someone who loves him so deeply and completely.

You both sit there, reveling in the warmth of the moment, knowing that this is just the beginning of a new chapter in your relationship. As the realization sinks in that you will soon be sharing a home together.

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specialagentlokitty · 4 months

Text

Rick Grimes x reader - so perfect

Hello👋👋 Rick fluff where he comes home and just sees reader hanging out with the kids. And he just stops and watches them, thinking how lucky he is to have her. Please and thank you. Love your work btw❤❤❤. - @hoodiepandaninja16 💜

Holding Judith in your arms, you looked at Carl as he threw a tennis ball against the side of the house, catching it in his hand to throw it again.

“Carl?”

He looked over, stopping what he was doing.

“If you keep throwing that at all wall, you’re gonna break a hole in it eventually.”

He chuckled a little, looking at the tennis ball.

“Sorry, guess I got lost thinking.”

“Hey, not me you need to be sorry too, that poor house has been getting beat on for at least an hour.”

He laughed again, walking over to you, letting you place a hand on his head, and he rested his head on your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You asked quietly.

He sighed a little bit, offering you nothing more than just a shrug.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just thinking about a lot of stuff you know? Sometimes it’s hard not to when it’s all you can do.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah.”

You nodded, letting him move away from you and over to the front of the house where he sat down, so you did the same.

Placing Judith on the porch next to you, and Carl handed her his tennis ball.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do you know I’ll listen.”

“Thanks (Y/N).”

You smiled at him, and you leant back on your hands, looking at the skies that were threatening to downpour at any moment.

It was still sunny, but the clouds were rolling in quickly, and given the thunder that was in the distance it would be here soon.

“Do you think dad will make it back before the storm hits?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“You really don’t lie don’t you? Could’ve at least tried to lie for me.” Carl mocked.

You laughed a little, grinning down at him.

“Nope, what’s the point. The truth will come out eventually, whether you want it to or not, by lying your just wasting your own time.”

“Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Carl nodded his head, he believed you.

Judith rolled the ball and you caught it before it went down the steps, rolled it gently back over to you and she giggled.

She pushed it back, so you once again pushed it back.

“Can you go through my bag and find my deck of cards?” You asked.

“Yeah, why?” Carl asked back.

“We’re gonna be stuck inside soon, May as well find some way to pass the time.”

You did try to keep them outside for as long as possible, but when it started to rain you decided to bring them inside.

Carl was insistent that he wanted to wait by the gate, but you wouldn’t let him.

So, you all sat on the floor of the living room, music coming from the stereo that you had put on.

Judith sat in your lap, and you tried teaching Carl how to play poker.

“Seriously, how is this in any way helpful?”

“It’s not, it’s just fun as hell.”

He grinned a little at you.

“Dad’s gonna hate you trying to teach me this, you know that right?”

“I could teach you how to throw them.”

“Like throwing stars?”

You nodded and he immediately sat up.

“Hell yes.”

“Hey, language. I’m an adult you’re not, your dad will kick my ass if he finds out.”

“Our secret?” Carl grinned.

You hummed, thinking for a moment as you studied with narrowed eyes.

“I used to cheat at poker in Las Vegas and was was banned from returning.”

“What?”

“You tell your dad that I’ll tell him you swear when he’s not around.”

You held your hand out and Carl grinned, shaking your hand.

“Deal.”

You let go, and you picked up one of the play cards, looking at the apple you had set on the table not long before.

Aiming, you threw the card, it curved a little in the air but lodged itself into the apple.

“Holy shit…”

“Hey! Just because I said I wouldn’t tell doesn’t mean you can keep doing it!”

“Show me again.”

While Judith slept on the couch you taught Carl some of the tricks of the trade you had learnt over time.

Carl was pretty quick with picking some of them up, others not so much, but the card throwing was his new favourite.

You had ran out of apples to throw them at, so you went to throwing them into his hat instead.

“Where did you learn this?”

“I spent a lot of time in Vegas kid, you pick up a lot of things in a place like that.”

“Did you have a gambling problem or something?”

You rolled your eyes.

“No, I was a professional gambler. Well, fraudster I guess, we worked as a team, taking casinos for all they were worth, using all the tricks, same with street hustling.”

“So, just a petty criminal then.”

“Ouch, petty? I’ll have you know I was wanted in over half the states for this shit.”

“And… you’re with my dad, who’s a cop?”

“Yeah that crap doesn’t matter now, what’s he gonna do, arrest me?”

“Yeah you’ve got a point.”

You handed him a couple more cards, looking to Edith as she moved.

Getting up, you held your arms out to her and picked her up, holding her in one arm as you slapped the card Carl threw back at him.

“I’m going to feed her, you want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.”

You guys made dinner, setting a plate aside for Rick, just in case he came back that night.

While Carl spent time with his sister you washed up and made your way back inside to see him dancing around the living room with her.

“You call that dancing?”

You laughed a little, and you swept Judith into your arms.

“First, it’s always gentlemanly to bow.”

You did a small bow, and he did the same thing, and then you held your palm out to him.

“Put your palm on mine.”

He did, and you began teaching him the steps to a simple dance you had learned a long time ago.

Because of the thunder, you didn’t hear the door opening, and Rick stood against doorway, crossing his arms as he watched the tree of you.

Judith was giggling each time you turned around.

“Where did you learn to dance like this?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I actually did drama when I was your age? Specialised in Shakespeare.”

“So… like a million years ago?”

“Ouch, okay, you know what Carl Grimes, I thought we were friends, but we’re not.”

He laughed, and you heard a laugh from behind you.

Both of you turned over and he walked over to his dad.

You walked over, handing Rick his daughter back and you smiled at him, gesturing to the kitchen.

“Food ready for you, just need to heat it up.”

“Thanks, I’ll get her to bed then I will.”

“I’ll heat it, you do what you have to do.” You smiled.

Rick went upstairs with Carl, and you went into the kitchen to heat up his dinner for him.

While he was up there he grabbed a shower, changing into some fresh clothes while you were setting his plate on the table.

He came back downstairs, and you were cleaning the kitchen, humming a little to yourself.

He sat down, his chin resting on his hand as he just watched you.

This whole time since the prison you had been with him, you had helped him, supported him, never questioning any of the choices he made.

You had complete faith in him, and here you were, looking after his children for him even though you didn’t have too.

After everything he had done, Rick wasn’t sure how he still had somebody like you.

He had no clue what he did to even deserve somebody like you.

Yet here you were, standing right in front of him, as if the whole world was perfect, and in that moment he could have sworn it was.

“Teach me that dance.”

You turned around, looking at him, then the food he hadn’t touched.

“Eat, then asked again.”

He chuckled, quickly eating his dinner, washing up after himself and he walked into the living room where you were sat.

“Now will you teach me the dance?”

You smiled, getting up.

“First, the gentleman thing to do is bow.”

You bowed, snd he copied you.

You held up your hand, and he placed his palm over yours.

Whatever move you made he did the same thing, his eyes locked with yours as you both slowly danced.

This was it, this was perfect, his eyes focused on yours, everything else seeming nothing but background noise.

Rick slowly moved his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and he smiled softly, warm eyes focused on yours.

He held a nervous breath as he watched you, and you smiled softly back, copying him

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes imagine

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months

Text

Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki

Pairing: Gojo x girlfriend!reader; dad!Gojo x Megumi and Tsumiki

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.

Warnings: fluffness overload, there's absolutely not enough content for the dynamic between Gojo and his kids in the manga so we'll make our own, a little bit of spicy mentions especially in the bonus material so be prepared for cheeky Gojo

„I thought I told you I don’t want you to dress up as Santa in bed, Satoru. How many times do I have to tell you that this doesn’t turn me on at all?”, you moan, eyes roaming all over your beloved boyfriend.

There he stands, wearing a bright red costume, a way too big hat and the worst fake looking beard you have ever seen. What the hell has gotten into him again?

He turns around, sly grin beaming your way. At least that pants seem to fit him pretty well, they really bring out his strong legs and well, that special part between his legs. Huh, maybe it doesn’t look as off-turning as you thought it would…

“For once, I’m not doing this for you. Don’t you ever think about the kids, (y/n)?”, he teases you.

The kids? Does he talk about Megumi and Tsumiki? No, he absolutely can’t. Out of all people, your boyfriend should know best that Megumi will probably leave and never return if he sees Satoru dressed up like this. And Tsumiki? Well, she might not be as harsh as Megumi, but even she will just stare at him bamboozled. Yes, those kids aren’t particularly joyful when it comes to Satoru’s goofy side and everyone knows.

Except for him, apparently.

“The kids will hate you for this”, you clarify, fingers getting stuck in the fake hair of his beard.

He draws you closer, arms wrapping around you tightly while the poor fabric of his costume scratches against your cheek.

“You just can’t accept that they love me more than you. Just watch and see the magic in their eyes.”

A huff escapes your lips, head shaking by itself. Oh, you’ll definitely watch as he makes a fool out of himself in front of the kids. This will be fun.

-later-

“Hey (y/n), where is that freak?”, Megumi greets you, neatly dropping his schoolbag into the same spot as usual.

“Come on, Megumi-chan, don’t call him that”, you softly reply.

“I have no idea, I haven’t seen him since morning.”

“(y/n)!”, Tsumiki cries out and runs into your open arms instantly.

What a sweet girl she is. Despite the fact that both her mother and father are gone, she always wears a wide grin on her face, embracing you in a hug whenever she lays her eyes on you. Megumi on the other hand, just stares at you from afar with his arms crossed in front of his chest. How is it possible for siblings to be this different?

“Why do you talk about him this way, Megumi? Don’t you know we would have never met (y/n) if it wasn’t for him?”, Megumi’s sister reproves him in an instant.

“Huh, you’re right about that”, the petite boy mumbles to himself, eyes set on you.

“Ho ho ho children.”

You blink a few times, the voice behind the closed door being pitched so ridiculously low that your cheeks redden. He told you he’ll surprise the kids today, you should have seen it coming after he tried on that strange suit this morning. But to be honest, you hoped it was just to mess with you, that he was just playing around a little.

Until the door swings open and reveals Satoru Gojo in a Santa costume, wearing his iconic pair of sunglasses.

“You can’t be serious about that”, Megumi mumbles in the corner.

You don’t know what to do. Dying of laughter or dying of embarrassment? By the way he steps into the middle of the room with boots that look way too similar to the ones you just bought a few months ago, you have no time to think about that.

“Since I know (y/n) is always naughty, I’m here to check if at least you kids have been good this year”, he announces.

It’s hard to keep the corners of your mouth from shooting up and to suppress the little giggle that creeps up your throat. But there you stand, smiling like an idiot while shaking your head, watching the priceless drop on Megumi’s cute little face.

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

Tsumiki lets go of you, blinking over and over in an attempt to understand what’s going on. Everybody just stands dead still in their tracks, staring at what’s definitely Satoru Gojo in front of them.

“I see, you’re a feisty one, little man. Watch how you speak to someone my age!”

“You’re 18.”

“I AM NOT! LOOK AT MY WHITE BEARD.”

Tsumiki is the first one to break with a squeal, holding onto your body for hold while shaking uncontrollably in laughter.

“This isn’t funny, young lady!”, Satoru’s low voice speaks out harshly.

He sends you over the edge. Your little giggle escalates into loud laughter, making your stomach ache so badly that tears run down your cheeks.

“You look ridiculous. Take that off.”

With a swift motion, Megumi pulls down the fake beard that was set in place by a cheap elastic, exposing the pout of pure outrage on Satoru’s lovely face. Oh, how much you love that man. The man who lost it all last year, the man who cared about those kids he didn’t even knew enough to basically adopt them, the man who does everything to make Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s life as pleasant as possible.

Even if it means dressing up as Santa.

“Huh, how did you get it was me?!”

“Are you kidding? You’re even wearing your sunglasses, idiot.”

“HOW DARE YOU TO CALL YOUR DAD IDIOT, I RAISED YOU-“

“Raised me? You know me since last year!”

“He would never admit it, but I know that he really admires Satoru from deep down”, Tsumiki suddenly hushes into your ear.

You wipe your tears away, observing the scene laying itself out in front of you with a wide smile. It’s not a secret to anyone in this room that life has its ups and downs, that everything is shitty from time to time. But precious moments of joy like this that make even Megumi turn away with an ever so slight grin make you realize what life really is about.

“I think you were quite convincing”, you comment sarcastically.

“You…It was your fault! You told them about my surprise!”, your boyfriend cries out overdramatically.

It takes him not even seconds to be by your side, grabbing you by your waist and tickling your over-sensitive spots he knows so well.

“Stop! I didn’t do anything!”, you shout between multiple giggles, tears of joy streaming down your face all over again.

“B-but…I like that suit better than I thought.”

His hands stop immediately, eyes darkening in an instant.

“Is that so, huh? Maybe I can show it off better in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Come on, Megumi. Time to go”, Tsumiki hisses, dragging her brother out of the room by his small hand.

-dirty bonus-

"Tsumiki?", Megumi mumbles muted.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Do you think (y/n) is okay?"

Tsumiki blinks into the darkness around her, trying to understand what her little brother means by his words.

"She definetely was when Satoru dressed up as Santa. Why?"

"When I went to the toilet, I heard her screaming. She even screamed his name. I guess I'm just a little...worried. Do you think we should go check-"

"NO", Tsumiki interrupts him immediately, her face heating up in an instant.

Oh god.

"Absolutely not. Just stay here and try to sleep."

"But what if-"

"NO. And never tell me about something like this again!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

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theodoresgirl · 12 days

Note

I see you like dabi... Can you write something with dad dabi??

Dad!Dabi Headcanons

a/n: dabi as a dad, Personally a favorite. Never actually attempt to write it so here we go. lmk if you want more<33

warning: Some 'canon' parts and fan-canon. my personal opinion, delulu.

— —

★ — Dabi’s the kind of guy to first react negatively towards you saying you’re pregnant. He’s never imagined being a dad, His own pushed him down when he gained a “better” son. It would take some reassurance, Like telling him you believed he would be a great dad, and that he was nothing like his father. He would slowly be open to the idea of being part of the kids life.

★ — Dabi’s by your side whenever he can, between the LOV and planing his pay back to his own dad.

★ — Dabi’s holding your hair when you get sick, He’s bringing you food late at night on his recruitment patrols.

★ — He’ll even bust out his old hair braiding skills (he might be a little rusty at first) to keep it out of your face during hot flashes. he learned braiding with fuyumi’s hair when they were younger.

★ — Dabi keeps you and the baby a complete secret, To make sure he knew that if something happened to him. You and the baby wouldn’t be targeted

★ — Dabi would be terrified to touch your stomach, he isn’t normally a feel bad kind of guy but he didn't wanna accidentally hurt you or the baby. It takes some time before he can rest his hand on your belly or lay his head on it.

★ — He tries to attend at least a few doctor appointments, but he misses the birth because of his identity. He'd get really upset ith

★ — Some time after you have the baby, you and him would be sitting on the couch, The baby was sleeping and he lets slip he wants another one. “to give it a friend” lame excuse but hey, It works. He wouldn’t ask for another one but if you asked he wouldn’t say no.

★ — He first sees his daughter when you come home. He’s right there, He heard you talking outside the door and getting your keys.

★ — He was sitting in a chair at the island counter. Safe to say he’s been there for 3 hours waiting.

★ — For awhile he just sits on the couch while you hold her. He’d be scared, again. He didn’t wanna harm her.

★ — She looked exactly like him at her age. Red hair, teal eyes, a big smile.

★ — Sometimes you’d wake to go the bathroom and see a empty place next to to, and noise in the nursery. Dabi would be sitting in a rocking chair mumbling about who knows what while his little girl just slept on his chest. He’d never admit it though, if you brought it up he’d say you were really tired and hallucinated it. (you didn’t)

★ — His phone lock screen was of course his motorcycle, but his home-screen was a picture of you passed out with baby girl.

★ — Second pregnancy around he would probably be outed as toya, Depending on the outcome (we are gonna go the happy delulu root) he'd have contact with his sister, maybe even natsuo. You drag him out to lunch with his sister.

★ — He'd always have his arms around you, around your waist, on your hips and stomach.

★ — He'd definitely rubs the fact his family loves him to his dad, no doubt. He'd brag about how his daughter is always following him around, and his future partner is perfect and loves him for him.

★ — Dabi also definitely got your daughter to say dada first, Even though it took 2 years she finally said her first word. it would be when you went out with his siblings. He sends you a video of her sitting on the couch in one of those Ariel princess dresses. She clear as day she says 'dada'. He teases you about it a lot.

★ — At first you'll have to force him, but after awhile the only movies that are on the tv at all times was Disney & barbie. (His favorites are Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus & Robin hood)

★ — Dabi would lay down on the floor while his daughter played with his hair and feels his scars.

★ — Dabi also by now stopped using his quirk, which over time slowly his scars began to heal.

★ — He was present for your 2nd child, your sons birth. To say he teared up is a understatement. He stood by your side the whole time, he wasn't willing to miss it this time.

★ — Your son looked again, was a mini dabi, but white hair.

★ — When your daughters quirk forms its just like dabis, She ran into you and his room one morning giggling excitedly about having a cool quirk like her daddy. His face was pure fear, could her skin handle the heat? or was it like his?

★ — Dabi would watch when she'd use her quirk, to make sure she didn't get hurt, and she never did. That made dabi relieved.

#fanfic #dabi headcanons #dabi x reader #dabi #mha x reader #mha headcanons #toya todoroki #x reader #toya x reader #toya todoroki x reader #Toya headcanons

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trans-eddie · 2 months

Text

Sub Eddie Week, Day 1 — Affirmation (non sexual)

Eddie has Bad Days. Days Steve isn’t sure what to do with him, because it kills him inside to see him get like that and be so helpless to fix it.

There are a lot of factors, he gathers. They don’t always talk directly about it. It’s obvious when it’s the trauma of what they went through; what Eddie went through, specifically — being eaten alive, nearly dying.

Other times it seems like some other trauma Steve is unaware of. A lot of shit from his childhood that Eddie doesn’t ever want to bring up. Steve knows his dad plays a big part of it, especially thanks to Wayne’s input. The loss of his mom too. He hadn’t exactly had an easy childhood, and things didn’t really improve for him into his teenage years.

So Steve has stopped trying to root the source of Eddie’s episodes. He focuses instead on what he can do in the present, what he can try, to drag Eddie out of them.

They’re not always the same, and Steve is prepared to deal with them as they come, in whatever form.

Some days it’s Eddie being surly and snappish, lashing out over little things. Sometimes Eddie goes quiet and still, and he curls up on himself, like he’s trying to take up as little space as possible. Those are rarer, but they’re Steve’s least favorite — because they’re the most un-Eddie. Eddie should never be small, or silent.

Most of the time though, Steve doesn’t know what happens at all, because on those days, Eddie shuts him out completely. Doesn’t want Steve witnessing his vulnerabilities, or is too wrapped up inside his own head. It’s something they’re working on.

Like today, as Steve presses himself against Eddie’s bedroom door, head tilted to catch the sniffling sounds of Eddie on the other side.

“C’mon, Ed.” Steve begs. “You know you only get worse when you do this. I’m right here.”

And Steve knows they’re making progress when, after a few seconds, the lock on the door clicks open. Steve edges it open carefully, and takes in the sight of Eddie crammed into the only uncluttered corner of the room. Tear tracks shine on his cheeks, highlighted by the red lining under his eyes.

Steve has never seen him cry before. Not in this context. He knows he does, but Eddie is always careful to never let him see it. The only times Steve gets a glimpse of Eddie letting those walls down is when they’re having sex — when the dynamic they’ve found themselves in allows Eddie to trust Steve implicitly, to allow that wall to come down and not fear the intimacy of being seen.

Something about that clicks for Steve, right then. The idea of that dynamic, brought out into moments like these.

It’s worth trying.

He kneels down beside Eddie, hand extended as though asking permission to touch him.

Careful, careful, careful.

“Hey,” He whispers. “Do you trust me, Ed?”

There’s hesitation on Eddie’s face, but it’s alright. Steve knows how hard it is for him sometimes. How many times he’s been hurt by the people he was supposed to be able to trust most.

Eventually though, he nods. It warms something inside Steve that he can, that they’ve come far enough that even in the depths of a bad day like this, Eddie knows that Steve is Safe.

“Thank you,” Steve breathes out a sigh of relief, hands coming up to gently cradle Eddie’s face. “Baby boy. My good boy.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

The words are purposeful, chosen specifically. The names Steve usually reserves for the bedroom play, the praise offered when Eddie is being submissive and sweet for him.

There’s a moment, a pause where Steve waits to see if Eddie accepts it. If he’ll sink into the request to bring that dynamic out here — for Eddie to let go and hand himself over to Steve to take care of, to comfort. To take away the bad from him and assume responsibility for it all.

Eddie’s eyes gradually slip shut, and he nods.

Steve strokes Eddie’s cheeks a few times. “What do you need right now, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s eyes open again, and his gaze connects with Steve’s in something challenging. Something tinged with sadness around the edges, like he’s anticipating rejection.

“Tell me you love me.”

And that’s…something they haven’t done yet.

The words they haven’t said aloud, too much baggage surrounding them on both sides. Steve had thought it had been understood, though. The unspoken truth that ran both ways.

Now, he realizes what a miscalculation that was. Now, he looks at the anxiety pouring out of Eddie, the uncertainty. The way he’s braced for the worst, like it’s really a question how he feels.

Steve swallows down any residual trepidation, and he sets aside his own fear, the whispering voice that tells him his love is too much to be accepted by anyone if he doesn’t hold it back. Eddie needs to hear it, whether he feels the same way or not.

“Eddie,” he says, taking hold of Eddie’s wrists, thumbs pressed to his pulse points. “I love you.”

Eddie’s breath catches, and his voice wobbles as he responds, “How long for?”

Steve feels thrown for a loop. “What?”

“How long,” Eddie repeats, something wretched in his tone. “Until you’re sick of me? Of this? How long until it’s too damn much and you realize you’re better than it all? When you wake up and realize that I’m not somebody worth sticking around for?”

Steve lashes out all at once with his hand, gripping Eddie’s chin to force him to make eye contact once again.

“Eddie Munson,” he utters with command, “You listen to me. You don’t get to talk about yourself like that — like you aren’t worth the effort. Because to me? Loving you isn’t effort. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done, in fact. And even if it was hard, I’d walk uphill both ways just to earn the privilege of it. So don’t you dare talk about yourself like that. Do you understand?”

Eddie’s eyes are big again, shocked and unsettled, but he nods, an instinctual response to the particular tone of Steve’s voice.

“Good. Good boy,” Steve praises, releasing his chin to stroke his hair.

“As for the other part…I’m not going be naive. The romantic in me wants to promise we’ll be in love forever, but you and I both know things happen, people change. I’m not going to lie to you about something I can’t know. But what I can tell you is that I’ll love you forever. Just like everyone else I’ve loved before, you’ve carved out your very own place here, Munson,” Steve taps his chest. “And that’s never going away. Even if by some stretch of the imagination it one day changes form, I’ll still love you. I’ll always love you. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you today, tomorrow, or for the foreseeable future. Because I love you, and you are worth loving. Do you understand?”

Eddie nods, but this time with tears squeezing out the sides of his eyes.

Steve draws him into his arms, offering a tight embrace of support for the next part.

“This might be hard,” Steve says, “But I’m going to need you to repeat after me now.”

“What?” Eddie asks, beginning to pull away, confusion etched on his features.

“Eddie,” Steve reprimands him. “Aren’t you going to be good for me?”

Eddie catches himself, a brief moment where his desire to flee the vulnerability of the unknown wars with his obedience — but then if fades into submission, his body sinking pliantly back into Steve’s arms.

“Yes.”

Steve rewards him with a kiss on the top of his head.

“Need you to say exactly what I tell you to,” He says.

Eddie’s hands fist into Steve’s shirt, holding on tight. “Yes.”

Steve nods.

“Tell me that you’re good, and kind, and worthy of love.”

“Steve-“ Eddie starts, but Steve doesn’t let him object.

“Say it.”

Eddie swallows back anything else, taking a steadying breath.

“I—I’m good, and kind, and worthy of love.”

Steve rubs a hand up and down his back.

“Tell me that you’re not hard to love. That the people who love you don’t want to leave you.”

Eddie whines, burying his nose against Steve’s chest, voice muffled. “I’m not hard to love. The people who love me…”

Steve nudges him, waiting for the rest. Eddie swallows audibly.

“The people who love me don’t want to leave me.”

“There we go,” Steve coos. “Not so hard after all, huh? You did so good. My good boy.”

Eddie goes limp against him, all the tension sapping at once from his muscles.

“Think we’re gonna work on that more regularly,” Steve says, petting Eddie’s hair as he wraps an arm around his waist. “And I’m going to have to remind you just as often that I love you.”

Eddie’s arms latch around him. “Hey, Stevie?” He calls, quiet. Soft.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

Steve stumbles over the surprise of it, only for a second — but then he beams, light pouring out as warmth floods through him.

“I know,” He says. “I know.”

#sub eddie week #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #st #my writing #steddie fic

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bittenbyyou · 1 year

Text

Smitten

High School!AU | Peter Parker x Reader

genre: fluff

description: Just Peter Parker falling for you and coming up with the silliest plan to talk to you more.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: some Spider-Man Homecoming spoilers, Peter being a dork lol

a/n: Hello! This is my first time writing for Peter and I’m such nervous posting it, but I adore him and thought the origin story of how my bf and I got together suited Peter so well. Lol. So enjoy!

The first time Peter heard about you was in freshman year when you were ranked number one in academics, earning jealous stares from everyone. But not from him; he was rather impressed.

Sophomore year was when your name came up again through his ex-girlfriend, Liz. Turns out you were her partner for an English project, which he didn’t think much of. He was happy with Liz… until he defeated her dad, who turned out to be a villain called “The Vulture”, and she and her mom moved to Oregon afterwards…

Anyway, it was now junior year and for the first time ever, he had a class with you—good ol’ AP U.S. History.

“Dude, over here,” Ned called out from the first row of seats near the back corner. Peter smiled at his best friend and made his way over, taking the seat behind him.

“Hey Ned.”

“So glad we have another class together.”

“You said it.”

The two made small talk until you arrived, taking the seat next to Ned. He was mutual friends with a lot of your friends, so you felt comfortable sitting next to someone you were at least acquainted with rather than a stranger.

“Hi Ned,” you said sweetly.

“Oh [Y/N], you’re in this class too? Nice!” Ned gestured a hand towards Peter. “This is my best friend, Peter.”

“Peter… Parker, right?” you asked. Peter was surprised you knew his full name, but then remembered Liz. He nodded his head a few too many times, but you found it endearing.

“Y-Yeah. Hi.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m [Y/N].”

Wow. You were cute.

“Sup losers,” a deadpanned voice said from behind you. You turned around to see MJ, jumping out of your seat to give her a big hug.

“MJ! We’re in the same class, yay!”

“I know you’re not hugging me this early in the morning,” she said with her index finger raised.

“You know you love me.”

“Ew.”

She gave you two pats on the back and you let go, giggling at her expression of faux disgust. You returned to your seat, which was in the middle of MJ and Ned. MJ then quickly whipped her head around to look at Peter.

“Sup Parker,” MJ said with a salute of two fingers.

“Hey MJ.”

“You met [Y/N] yet?”

“Yeah, Ned introduced us… you know her too?”

“Met her in an elective. She looked lonely.”

“You make me sound like a loser with no friends,” you said, pouting your lips.

“I have no friends either.”

“You have me!” you chirped.

“And what about us?” Ned asked, gesturing back and forth to him and Peter.

“Whatever,” MJ brushed off. The three of you laughed while Peter watched, feeling somewhat left out even though he was mentioned.

“I’m a bit jealous. You all already know each other,” you said. Wow, you said exactly what he was thinking. They knew you, but he didn’t.

“Well the only person you don’t know is Peter and I only met him because of the decathlon. He’s really not all that interesting,” MJ said, smirking in his direction.

“Are you serious? Peter’s the coolest,” Ned said, hyping him up like a true best friend. “Peter knows Sp—”

“Dude!” Peter exclaimed, hinting at him to shut up with his deadly glare.

Ned chuckled nervously. “I mean… you’ll get to know him, [Y/N]. And he’ll get to know you.”

*Ding!*

Saved by the bell.

From that day on, the four of you grew closer. Group work was always in teams of four in that class which worked out perfectly. Peter quickly learned you hated presentations because you would freeze up and trip on your words, so he volunteered to present instead just to hear you thank him and flash that sweet smile.

At lunch, Ned always invited you and MJ to join him and that’s when Peter learned how passionate you were about food. Specifically the school’s chicken alfredo.

“It’s delicious!” you said, doing a little happy dance after eating a forkful of pasta.

“It’s gross, processed food. Do we even know if it’s chicken?” MJ asked, eyeing the meat on her fork suspiciously.

“I don’t care, I’m still eating it,” you said, enjoying the noms.

“Aren’t you lactose intolerant?” Ned asked.

“That’s not stopping me.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” Peter said without thinking. Everyone stared at him with a variety of expressions. MJ was skeptical, Ned was confused, and you were surprised.

“I literally saw you eating ice cream yesterday,” MJ pointed out.

“And his bowels paid for it,” Ned lied. Peter let out a nervous laugh.

“Hah, yeah, I was on the toilet… for hours.” You placed a hand over your mouth, trying your best not to laugh. “But I’m fine now!”

“Are you sure you should be eating lunch today then?” you asked. “Wouldn’t want your bowels to hurt again. I’ll do the honors of reducing food waste and eat it for you.”

MJ and Ned stared at Peter. Well, MJ was daring him to eat it with her piercing eyes while Ned gave him a knowing look.

“You can have it,” Peter said warmly, sliding his tray of food over to you.

“Yay!” you cheered. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Because honestly seeing you eat and doing that happy dance again filled him up more than any food could. You were too cute.

Peter was sure of it. He definitely had a crush on you. It took him until almost the end of first semester to realize it, but he knew now.

He liked how smart you were. The way you answered any question the teacher threw at you so flawlessly was a mystery to him because history bored him.

He liked how funny you were. The way you were passionately defending why mayo was the superior condiment against MJ and her love for ketchup made him die of laughter.

He liked how kind you were. The way you helped another girl plan a dance for her quinceanera despite having so much homework.

He liked how cute you were. The way you fell asleep in class after being the first to finish your test.

He even liked how clueless you were. The way you knew absolutely nothing about Star Wars but still allowed him to ramble on and on about it in class and listen to him with a caring heart.

Yup. He definitely liked you.

A lot.

But he didn’t know how to tell you. You two didn’t hang out outside of school at all and he was so darn shy. It wasn’t until he and MJ hung out at Ned’s place one day when an opportunity arose. You were invited to his house as well, but you declined because of some projects you left till the last minute.

The trio were building Legos and at one point Ned had to go downstairs and help his lola cook dinner while MJ and Peter remained upstairs. She was sitting on Ned’s bed while Peter was on the floor continuing to build the Lego Death Star.

“I’m going to give you some advice, Pete,” MJ started to say. Peter looked up at her in confusion.

“About what?”

“About [Y/N].”

His eyes started to wander around the room. “W-What about [Y/N]?”

“What do you think about her?”

“What do I think a-about her? What’s not to think, she’s sweet. She’s nice. She’s kind.”

“Those are synonyms.”

“She’s smart. God, she is so smart, and she gets my jokes and actually laughs at them and—”

“Yup. You like her.”

His face fell. “No… No… No~.”

“So should I call her for you?” She whipped out her phone and Peter panicked.

“Don’t!”

“Why not? You have got to talk to her.”

“I do talk to her.”

“Outside of school,” MJ specified. “I have her number if you want it.”

“No, she’ll find it weird if I text her out of nowhere.”

“So you’re going to continue staring at her when she’s not looking like a total creep?”

“I don’t… I don’t stare,” Peter mumbled. MJ rolled her eyes at his denial.

“You do,” she teased. “Look, I’m going to the restroom. Here’s my phone. Do whatever you’d like with it.”

If Peter was a creep, then MJ was a psychopath because who would let anyone use their phone so freely? He still took the device from her hands and waited until he was alone to tap your name in MJ’s messages. His heart was racing at the thought of having your number, but he didn’t feel ready for it.

So… he did something else.

5:44 PM | MJ🖤: Hey 🙂

Yikes. He really was a creep.

5:45 PM | You 😇: Hi MJ! What’s up? Did y’all finish building the Legos?

Peter smiled to himself at your enthusiastic greeting.

5:45 PM | MJ🖤: No, not yet. Ned left us to help with dinner. How are you?

Your next reply didn’t come as fast this time. Peter panicked, wondering if he said something weird. Then again, this whole situation was borderline crazy.

5:49 PM | You 😇: I’m doing my homework. It’s so boring. Wish I was with you all. 🥺

5:50 PM | MJ🖤: We wish you were here too. 💖

Peter saw the thought bubble with three dots pop up, eagerly waiting for your reply.

5:50 PM | You 😇: Hey MJ… I have a question.

5:50 PM | MJ🖤: Go for it.

5:50 PM | You 😇: Who are you? Lol.

Shit. Shit. Shit. You knew. Oh my god, Peter’s life was over. He got up off the floor and started pacing around the room in panic.

5:51 PM | You 😇: I know you’re not MJ… so either you stole her phone and I’m going to have to report you for identity theft or she let you use her phone.

5:53 PM | MJ🖤 : Okay, it’s Peter. Don’t report me. 🥺

He held his breath for your next response, facepalming himself for getting caught so fast.

5:53 PM | You 😇: Peter, why are you pretending to be MJ? If you wanted to text me, I could’ve just given you my number. Haha.

5:53 PM | MJ🖤 : Wait, really? I’m sorry. Idk why I did that.😅

5:53 PM | You 😇: Yeah. Here’s my number XXX-XXX-XXXX. Please text me as yourself. Lolol.

Peter had the biggest grin spread across his face as he fell onto Ned’s bed in relief. He couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. By some miracle he did it. He got your number… he actually got your number.

“Why are you staring at my phone like a creepy serial killer?” He looked up to see MJ leaning against Ned’s door frame.

“Uh… I got her number?”

“How?”

“... You’re going to kill me.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #my writing #smitten

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itsabouttimex2 · 8 months

Text

Platonic Yanderes

(Endeavor, Hawks, Best Jeanist)

Enji Todoroki:

His own child, whom he previously spurned.

He regrets it. God, he regrets it so much. The memories seethe inside him like an angry scar, pulsing in pain.

“I made dinner, Dad! I knew you’d be out late, so I stayed up to make sure you had something to eat!” He doesn’t sit down to to eat or say thank you. He grabs the plate from your hands and stomps off to his own room to eat, casting a baleful glare to you as he does. At least you’re good for something, he thinks.

He doesn’t think like that anymore. Do you know that, Y/N? You are worth so much more than he ever let you know.

“Hey, dad. You wanna go out jogging? Fuyumi grew out of her old tracksuit and gave it to me, and I wanted to see if-“

You cut yourself off when he glares at you, a withering look on his face. He stares down at you, a sneer turning the corners his lips. “You wouldn’t be able to keep up with me,” he snaps at you, walking away and slamming the door as he exits.

But you never actually thought you’d be able to keep up. You knew you’d fall behind. You just wanted to spend time with him, didn’t you? He’ll spend as much time with you as he can from now on, Y/N.

“Do you want to train with me? I’d be happy to put up some targets for you!” You smile, tiny bits of ice sparking on your hands. That smile doesn’t reach your eyes anymore, not when you’re talking to Dad. “There’s nothing you can put up that I wouldn’t melt right through. You don’t have the skill.” As expected, he turns on his heel and leaves.

He wonders how long it’s been since the two of you talked. You were there, reaching out a hand to him, trying to get through to his heart. You made offer after offer, and he struck them down without hesitation. Even without a scrap of love of affection, you kept trying to help him become a better person.

“Why didn’t I let you help me?”

He asks himself this question again and again, looking down on you. He always looked down on you, for being weak or sentimental or distracting.

Now he’s doing it in a more literal sense, staring at your feverish form on the bed.

Your severe sickness had been the perfect excuse to squirm back into your life. He comes in with nearly a dozen grocery sacks held in his arms, a steely and determined look in his eyes. Before you have a chance to slam the door in his face (not that you strength to do so right now) he walks into the house, heading straight to the kitchen.

“What are you-“

“Hush. Not a word, Y/N.” He’s dressed in his own expensive and tailor-made version of casual, not that it makes him any less intimidating. He places the bags on your table, and walks directly towards you, his hand moving to cover your forehead. He grimaces.

“You’re burning up, Y/N. Get to bed. Now.”

“You need to-“

He grabs your shoulders and spins you around, marching you to your room, checking the rooms one by one as he walks with you. Once he finds it, he pushes you towards it and pulls back the covers. “Get in.”

You’re frozen stiff, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, your estranged father busting in with groceries and literally marching you in around your own home, room by room. That pause gives him the chance to push you onto the mattress, tucking the blanket around you. “Good,” he says, sounding satisfied. “I’ll make you something to eat. Don’t move.”

He pulls the top off of a can of microwaveable soup, dumping the contents into a plastic bowl. He had wanted to just buy you something gourmet and professionally made, but Fuyumi had talked him out of it, saying you’d be better off with something simple and easy to eat. That you would be better off with him.

So here he is, a giant man trying his best to not break a tiny spoon as he pushes it to your lips. Now that you’re actually lying down instead of trying to work in your weakened state, your body finally gives out, entirely sapped of the energy you’d need to get up or tell him off for coming in unannounced and uninvited. With nothing else to do and a body that won’t listen to your commands, you let him him feed you.

It’s a tiny step forward, the first of so many to come. And he won’t stop until you call him your father again.

——

Keigo Takami:

A young and innocent member of the League of Villains.

“I really appreciate you stopping by, Mr.

Hawks.”

You slide him a drink, sweet and fizzy and non-alcoholic. You’ve never actually served him anything with alcohol, not even by accident. He refuses to drink it, keeping himself sober and fully focused at all times.

You appreciate it, because it means one less grown man to babysit, one less puddle of vomit to mop, one less fight to break up.

And he appreciates that you don’t ask questions or try to convince him otherwise, because it means that he can do his job much easier.

“Did you make me something new, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I did! Club soda and cherry syrup and whipped cream!”

“Looks delicious, kid.” He takes a sip, and damn, it’s actually pretty good. “And tastes even better than it looks,” he praises, buttering you up in a way that aren’t used to. The other members, the real members of the League aren’t so kind. You’ll get an errant compliment or two, but mostly you gets nods, grunts of approval, and impatient demands for refills.

But Mr. Hawks is relaxed and charming and actually talks to you outside of ordering drinks. It’s easy to trust him.

“Got any news for me, kid?”

Maybe a little too easy, with the way you spill out all the gossip you’ve overheard, bits of information that you would’ve never considered critical or even important. And all the while, he grins and sips his drink, listening very, very close.

You’re betraying your own teammates, and you don’t even know it, he thinks to himself. And why? Because you’re just a good kid, a lonely kid? A sweet and polite kid, in spite of being surrounded by literal killers and remorseless criminals.

More than anything, he feels bad for you.

Especially when he catches you drinking.

You sniffle, a red handprint outlined on your cheek, and bruising from a rough hand encircling your wrist. You tip the shot glass back, trying to take a another sip.

But something soft blocks your lips, soaking up the alcohol before it can enter your mouth. You set the shot glass down, opening your red-rimmed eyes. A feather, hanging midair, separating your lips and the glass.

“You’re still a bit young for that kind of coping, kid. Give it a few more years, and then you can start.”

His voice is soft, and he takes your wrist to turn it over, looking at the outlines left behind by rough, grasping fingers.

“Who was it?”

A flash of something fierce and angry, protective and nurturing. His eyes sharpen and then that sharpness fades, gone in an instant. He switches to laid-back and unaffected in a moment.

“C’mon. Just one word, and I’ll make sure they don’t mess with you again. Can’t have my favorite bartender making my drinks with a bruised hand, after all.”

You give him a name, fighting back tears. You aren’t supposed to cry. You aren’t supposed to break. You need to be strong and useful or you’ll get thrown out, nowhere to go and no one who wants you.

No one who wanted you until you met Hawks, that is. He’s sure you’ll know that soon, when these villains are brought to justice and he takes you into his personal custody, under the guise of rehab.

He hooks an arm around your shoulders and when you lean into his side, starved for warmth and comfort, he slips a feather into your pocket. A sign that he’s there, that you aren’t alone.

You won’t be alone again.

——

Tsunagu Hakamada:

A shy, insecure UA student who performs well at the Sports Festival.

You aren’t the usual kind of student he’d take under his wing. You stumble and stutter and whimper and then you crumble and hide yourself away. You have no self-esteem, no confidence, no sense of personal worth.

But your fighting prowess is impossible to deny or ignore. You might not have any self-worth, but you’ve got enough skill to make up for it.

“Fifth place”, he starts, while combing through your hair, “Is very impressive, especially for the school in question. You went up against skilled and varied opponents, and beat out all but four. Be proud.”

He doesn’t see the need to use Fiber Master on you. One single command of “sit” had you on the stool, holding as still as you could while he fixed your unruly hair, swept and tangled by the wind. You are certainly a well-behaved student, listening closely to his words, blushing at his praise.

“I was scared,” you mumble, in a sudden show of honesty. “I thought I was gonna mess up in front of everyone. With all those cameras. And everyone watching.” He’s won you over quickly, his unshakably calm yet supportive and patient personality providing you with the comfort you need to open up to him.

“And you did not. That is admirable.”

You blush a little deeper. Clearly, you are receptive to praise and positive attention. Building you up as a properly confident student and hero-in-training becomes one of his priorities.

He finds himself enjoying your presence. Something as simple as children running up to you to ask you about the sports festival, asking you to show off your Quirk for them has you looking up to him for approval, for his consent. He gives you a nod, carefully regarding your actions. You do decently with people when someone is behind you with a supporting hand on your back, it seems.

Then it’s teenagers, some classmates, some friends, occasional newfound fans. Every now and then, an outright admirer. Usually, you hide behind him, eyes down, arms wrapped around yourself. He interferes personally on the last ones, politely but firmly rejecting them on your behalf, nudging you along to continue your patrolling. You mumble a thanks, staying close beside him.

For adults, it’s two drunkards who laugh and sneer and shout obscene things about what they’d do to a shy schoolgirl like you if they got the chance. One whips out his phone to take a picture of you, only to drop it in his drink when the cuff of his sleeve tightens around his wrist like a snare. Tsunagu ushers you to a bench, draping his jean jacket around your shoulders gently. “You need not worry. I will be right back.”

He’s a dreadfully powerful man, in terms of both influence and Quirk. In seconds, both men are bound tightly by their own clothes, and in a matter of minutes, police officers are stepping in to take them into custody for sexual harassment.

He clicks his tongue in distaste, watching them get carted off. “Some people simply have no moral fiber.”

The way you look at him right then reminds him of why he became a hero. Not only to save lives, but to instill peace and hope into the hearts of those around him.

And he starts to like being around you. You look to him, not only for safety but for guidance and even for comfort. He offers it to you, watching closely as you fall deeper into the web that he weaves, one where you are safe and secure and utterly oblivious to your own entrapment.

And the longer you stick around, stumbling after him like a newborn fawn, the tighter and thicker those bonds grow. You can’t ever leave him.

But why would you ever want to leave him?

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere My Hero Academia #Yandere MHA #Yandere Endeavor #Yandere Hawks #Yandere Best Jeanist #Teenage Bartender

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a-chaotically-small-lunta · 3 months

Text

Okay hear me out. Imagine a story where a scientist is leading a tour of kids through his lab, showing off all the inventions that will hopefully one day help humanity! In this tour is his son, who is very excited to be with his dad at his job, while also technically going to school? Win Win!! His dad has been a bit overprotective of him, but he sort of enjoys the attention. Although he isn’t too keen on his classmates who bully (perhaps one of the bullies is his brother or something) him for it, still poking and teasing him during the tour.

After awhile the dad shows off a portal machine which can open a portal to a whole new world, or at least that’s what they think it leads to anyway. The lab hasn’t fully tested it and is making a robot to send in first. The kids all ask if they can see it and the science team agrees as long as no one goes over the rails towards the portal, cause it seems to have a suction. (You can see where this is going I bet) The science team flips on the machine and the portal lights up, and while everyone is distracted the bully decides to have some fun, whispering into the Scientist kid’s ear something like “Maybe you’ll see your mom over there” or “Perhaps I should just take out trash like you. You’re just wasting dad’s time anyway” before the kid can really process what happens he is pushed over the rail into the portal, disappearing. The machine shuts off with a clunk and the dad is pissed. He is shouting at the bully about how stupid that was and how they have no idea if it’s even life sustainable on the other side! A guard nearby says that the kid is in real serious trouble for so many reasons, only for the dad to chime in that the bully better hope his kid is alive cause if he isn’t, he’ll get a murder charge. The bully explains he didn’t mean to only for most of the class saying that the bully always does this and one student even repeats what he said before he pushed the kid in. They decide to end the tour early and send everyone home, while the bully is escorted out by the guards and won’t be going home soon.

The science team asks what they’re gonna do and the dad says they’re gonna make something. Perhaps a suit or vehicle so that he can go into the portal and find his son. The team nods and quickly gets to work, they know it’ll take more than a few weeks, but maybe if they are lucky the kid will be okay, and maybe they can get it done faster.

Meanwhile, the kid flies through the portal and lands on a soft ground. Panicking he sits up and looks around, only to notice he’s on a huge bed. The portal sent him to a world that was way bigger than his own. Fear strikes him as he realizes where there is a big bed, there’s a big person. He’s right when he looks over across the room and sees a huge person sitting at a desk mumbling to themself. He’s frozen in fear and can’t move, even when the person swings around from their chair and walks over to their bed only to pause and stare at him.

The giant just stared at him, confused as to why there is a tiny child in their bed. They swear they didn’t put them there and are about to say something when the kid just burst out crying and the giant panicked. They quickly kneel by their bed and try to hush the child and tell them that it’s okay. The child keeps sobbing and soft hiccups can be heard, but eventually the kid quiets down a bit. The giant carefully asks how the kid got there, and the boy answers between sobs. The giant listens and the boy eventually bursts into tears again, crying out that they want their dad. The giant gently scoops them up, and holds them close saying “hey, hey, it’s going to be alright. You said your dad was a scientist…sooo he must have seen you get pushed in. I bet he’s trying to get back to you, he just has to figure out how to.” The kid sniffles and asks if the giant really believes that and they nod. They then reassure the kid that they won’t hurt them and that they’ll watch and care for them, until their dad comes to save them. The boy nods and the giant pauses and asks if he likes movies. The boy says yes and that he likes action like movies. The giant then decides that maybe they could watch a movie, to help the boy calm down, they’ll even let the kid choose the movie. He gets a little excited over this and the two of them go and do exactly that. Through this we learn that the worlds are almost identical, but some things are changed like Superman is Aceman, and Ice Cream is Frost Gel. All still the same thing, just named differently, which both the giant and boy find amusing.

The boy stays with the giant for little over a week, getting used to the large surroundings and the movements of the giant. The giant provides a small house to the boy, made of a box and Legos, which the boy had fun playing with and designing that part of the little home. In the other world the dad and his team finally finished the suit. It was built to survive space, acid, lava, and other possibilities. It had a backpack built into the back that held food rations, weapons, tools, and other things for survival. There was also the case, which contained all the parts for a small return portal back home. Which had been tested multiple times….just not cross dimensionally. The suit also had a built in camera that would send live video feed back to the team while the dad, who wanted to be the one who went through, was over there looking for his son. He’d also do some science stuff, like take samples and explore a bit.

The day finally arrives and the dad walks through the portal. He finds himself behind a large plush wall, and he starts to walk around it when he hears booming voices. Meanwhile the giant is laying in bed scrolling through their phone. The kid is sleeping in their little house for a quick nap. Then out of the corner of their eye they see something move out from behind their pillow. The dad looks up and catches the giant’s eye glancing at him. He freezes, and then grabs a weapon from the bag. This causes the giant to freak out and quickly flop out of their bed and onto the floor. The dad runs over and, using the mic in his suit, shouts “WHERE IS HE?!?!?” The giant, confused as hell, asks that the “crazy living action figure dude” please put down the weapon, while also asking what he means. The dad just shouts “IF YOU DID ANYTHING TO HIM I SWEAR I’LL..” the threat falls from his lips as the giant rises above him and cautiously walks over to the little house. They open the top and reach in, carefully waking the boy up and whispering that they have a surprise. The dad, still in a fighting stance, watches as the giant approaches with something in their hands. He’s about to fight, when the giant opens their hands and reveals his son, causing him to freeze. The boy pauses, not recognizing him cause of the suit, but once the dad rips the helmet off, the kid jumps off the giants hand and rushes to embrace his dad.

Both the kid and the dad just tightly hold onto each other as the giant just smiles softly, watching them. They then comment how much of a strong and loving dad the kid has and how the dad has such a brave and smart son. They both look up at the giant, who gives them a sweet smile. The dad explains they can go back home and the son is excited to tell his dad everything he learned about the place. The giant asks if there is anything they can do to help, which the dad asks if there is a safe place to setup a portal device somewhere that isn’t, well, a bed. The giant nods, and offers their hand to the pair. The son quickly hops on and the dad, carefully steps on after a bit of encouragement from his son. The giant takes them to their desk and says they can set it up in the free space near the wall.

After some time the portal is up and running and the dad has some samples, including a hair from the giant, and the small pair is ready to go home. The giant remarks that they’ll probably be seeing more of the tiny people, but says that they are welcome to visit. The boy hugs the giants hand and thanks them for taking care of them. The dad also thanks them for watching over his son, and says that he’s glad that the giant was the one to find his son. They take their leave and the story comes out in their world about what happens. The bully is still charged for some things, mostly messing with official government science stuff, but everything seems fine in the end. Plus the boy made an amazing friend, and the dad found someone he can trust to watch his son.

Anyway, basically what if a portal led to a giant world similar to our own, but it was discovered because some kids decided to mess with a kid. Resulting in the kid getting lost in that world, having to wait to be found or find a way back themself?

#g/t #gt #gianttiny #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t idea #g/t ideas #g/t thoughts #g/t thought #g/t story idea #I think it would be interesting to find a whole new world filled with giants #although if I found a tiny crying child in my bed I’d probably freak out #I’d have to calm them down and try and figure out how they got here and whether or not they were always tiny #it would be 100% worse if they happened to be from the same universe and the portal just shrunk them and sent them somewhere random #especially if you see the missing posters and think ‘wait I have them…how am I gonna explain their size?!?!?’#but if they’re from another world it’s more ‘oh okay. just smaller universe..okay okay…let’s figure out dimension travel then…I guess!!!’#either way I’d comfort them and definitely help or try and help them get back home #I’d just make sure that they were okay and watch over them…go all mama bear mode I guess haha #also sorry this got long and is basically a short story written shorter…a shrunken story hehehe

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notjustjavierpena · 9 months

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Siggy, the real question is pls get some more pregnancy joel…..bc tempers has me feeling some type of way 😮‍💨🥹

The Making of Ellie - Part IV

A/N: Ask and you shall receive, anon ❤️ Hope it is worth the wait.

Summary: Your libido has increased since getting pregnant. Joel doesn’t have a problem with indulging you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (mdni!), teasing, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, pregnancy sex, bit of fluff, intense orgasms, handjob, come-eating, desperate and whimpering joel is a warning in itself, the tiniest use of daddy.

Word count: 2.4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051/chapters/124097539

Libido

Since entering your third trimester, your libido has increased significantly. It is to the point where you feel painfully hot and bothered throughout the day, having described it as an itch that simply won’t go away no matter how much you scratch it. You’ll cross your legs, bite your lip, flush pink and be short of breath just by catching a glimpse of Joel, and he’ll be on you as soon as humanly possible. In short: You just want to, and you do, fuck all the damn time. Bed, bathroom, kitchen, in the hallway, once on the staircase, car.

Joel is happy to oblige, at least inside the four walls of your shared home. Sarah has completely fled the house at this point; despite it starting with your temper tantrums, her distaste for being home was really set in stone when she walked in on the two of you in a compromising position.

“Dad, I’m really happy for you and all, but Jesus Christ, I’ll be home again tomorrow,” she’d said, and now, she comes home for dinner and to pack her soccer bag. He lets her. She’s practically grown at this point, and he’ll see her when she needs him, he knows this. He has made it a habit to text her goodnight too, and she always responds quickly with a heart emoji.

You on the other hand are a whole different story. You are always in close proximity to him, circling him like a goddamn cat who does not want to admit its attachment to you and waiting to strike for the right moment to get attention.

Joel is emptying the dishwasher, a thing that he has made clear is his job after the incident, when he spots you out of the corner of his eye. He smiles to himself and pretends not to see you, continuing his work on getting all the mugs into the cabinet above him without crushing any of the million amounts of snacks you have hidden in the back.

You move closer. He watches still, catches the way your skirt flows as you walk to stand on his right side. You grip the edge of the kitchen counter, leaning against it and eyeing him up.

“Hey babe,” you say, tapping a finger on the front of the kitchen cabinet.

“Hi honey,” he replies nonchalantly to make you work for it. He starts filling up the dishwasher too, causing a microexpression of frustration and confusion on your face.

“Do you wanna do something together?” You suggest.

“Sure, when ’m done here.”

“How about now? Skip the cleaning up thing?”

“Is there anythin’, in particular, ya wanna do?” He acts oblivious. He goes to wash his hands, “Somethin’ that can’t wait?”

“Well,” you say with confidence, “Wouldn’t you rather get with—“

You push your hands down onto the counter to lift yourself up onto the kitchen table, but the act is hardly successful; you’ve become too stiff to do it, and it ends up a lot less sexy than Joel assumes is your intention. You try again, but you can’t get your ass onto the table, round belly in the way of being flexible enough to be seductive.

“Hold up,” you furrow your brows, trying your act again and using your legs to kickstart the jump off the floor but yet again to no avail, “I can do this.”

“Sweetheart,” Joel says, one hand resting on his chin as he hides the urge to laugh out loud. He clears his throat to cover up a chuckle.

“Stop,” you snap at him as you catch him actually laughing at you. He tries to suppress it, but when it bubbles up in his chest without his control, you become stubborn, “No, no, just wait.”

You struggle for a few moments more whilst Joel bites his cheek to keep you from getting upset. Eventually, you groan, “A little help here?”

“Sure,” Joel stands in front of you. He pushes on the soles of your feet the next time you try jumping, giving you the boost you need to perch yourself on the surface.

“Now,” you brush non-existent dust off your skirt, gesturing to yourself afterward. Joel thinks you’re adorable, “Wouldn’t you rather get with this than clean the kitchen?”

Joel sends you a smirk, “After that whole display, I’m actually not sure. Can you jump down and do it again so I’m certain?”

“Joel,” you bite, crossing your arms over your chest. He doesn’t know if you purposely squeeze your fuller breasts together or if he is just a dog, but he cannot help himself from staring. You catch him doing it, “Great. So you can stare at my cleavage, but you can’t touch me?”

Joel says your name. You ignore him.

“Have I not been paying ‘nough attention to ya?” Joel tuts in the softest voice, closing the distance between you to stand in between your legs, “Is that why you’re actin’ up?”

You pout at him so prettily, arms still underneath your tits and fingers tapping on your elbows. It turns more fun when you don’t reply, gaze dropping after it becomes too intense to stare back at him. Joel loves this little game, can feel his cock twitch in his jeans and threaten to strain against the zipper. You look past his shoulder, chewing on your bottom lip with a sort of pained restlessness.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Joel continues. He reaches out to place his palm on your round belly, rubbing soothingly as you continue to ignore him in your attempt to repress a tantrum. He knows you get angry and frustrated when you don’t eat, but after getting you pregnant, he has discovered that you react the same to not getting fucked on the regular too, “‘S not right for me to tease ya like that.”

“No, it’s not,” you agree, placing your hand on top of his in a gesture of reconciliation, “Think you should make it up to your baby mama. She’s going insane, you know. Only you help.”

Joel can feel his cock start to harden already. It is so easy for you to rile him up these days, hearing you talk about how he has ruined anything else for you. He is the only one to save you from this torment, and luckily, Joel likes to be useful.

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Joel’s hand on your stomach slips down and then up under your skirt. He glides his fingertips along your inner thigh, watches you struggle to find the words as his digits go further north until they rest right by the fabric of your underwear. He can feel the warmth radiating from your core.

“Uhh,” you say as your mind fogs. Your legs automatically spread for him.

“This?” He hooks his thumb underneath the damp fabric right at your center, “Jesus, you’re so wet, baby. I’m so sorry. If you’d just told me, I would’ve—“

“Just touch me, stop talking, and—” you whine, scooting a little further towards the edge to give him more access, “Don’t have to worry now.”

Joel’s thumb settles on your clit and presses down lightly. It causes you to say his name desperately, the back of your head knocking against the kitchen cabinet when you crane your neck back.

“Shit, are you okay?” Joel asks. He stops temporarily while you reach up to touch the back of your head. Though instead of wincing, you start giggling and Joel cannot suppress his own laughter.

“Keep going,” you egg him on, “I’ll be more careful.”

Joel decides to pull your underwear to the side instead, so he can sink two fingers into you. You let out a shaky breath, “Oh, fuck. That’s just what I needed.”

Joel’s thumb is on your clit again. He fucks you on his digits slowly, searches for your g-spot for only a second before rubbing it with the pads of his fingers. God, the way your face goes slack. You absolutely love it.

The wet squelches of your cunt are obscene enough to get him painfully hard in mere seconds too, combined with the feeling of your walls fluttering with your climax building.

“How the fuck are you so soaked?” He asks in disbelief.

“May have pregamed,” you admit in your blissful state.

“What?” Joel doesn’t stop what he is doing, but he slows down until he has almost come to a halt.

You find his gaze with a frown, “Don’t stop.”

“I haven’t… pregamed?”

You squirm a little and try to move, but Joel places his free hand on your belly to stop you, “Tried to take care of it myself. Didn’t fucking work, okay? The angle is all wrong.”

Joel cannot believe his ears. He lets his hand go up to grab your chin and then starts fucking your cunt with his fingers in earnest. You cry out softly, holding his gaze intensely.

“You find me, okay?” He puts on the voice that always makes you shut up and nod, “I don’t care what the fuck I’m doing. Say you wanna come and I’ll be there.”

Just like he predicted, you simply nod at his words. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, and he marvels at how you are barely able to connect your fingertips when your hand is in a fist around it. He loves you. Sweetest little thing he has ever known.

“Gonna be a good girl and come f’me?” He smiles devilishly when your breathing indicates that you are close. He lets go of your chin and splays the palm on your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat, “Make those legs tremble f’me?”

He curls his fingers upwards to torture his favorite spot inside of you, and then you are coming around them with fast pulses of your walls. He watches your thighs twitch once and then twice before actually shaking violently, making him wonder how long you’ve involuntarily edged yourself before finding him.

“Fuck, Joel, Joel,” you gasp in a very particular way, and Joel quickly removes his fingers from your cunt to see how a wet patch forms on your skirt from how you gush repeatedly as your climax reaches its peak.

It doesn’t even matter that it’s in the fucking kitchen, because the pride that he feels at making you squirt knows no bounds, and he cannot help the boyishness in his chuckle, “You’re fucking amazing.”

“Holy fuck,” you groan as you come down from your high. You rest your head against the kitchen cabinet again, this time without knocking it roughly into it.

“Good?” He asks.

“Fantastic,” you sigh contentedly, “Just gimme a sec. Take your pants off. I wanna do something nice for you before I go take this stupid skirt off.”

“Baby, you don’t have to,” he reassures despite how his dick hurts by now.

“Pants off, Miller,” you commandeer.

Joel follows through without further hesitation. He makes quick work of undoing his jeans and shoving them down with his underwear, grunting at the friction along his hard cock.

“Look at you,” you say with a pout, “Poor baby daddy.”

You reach out to grab a hold of his cock, watching the bead of precome that threatens to drip down from the tip. Running the pads of your fingers up and down the shaft teasingly, Joel lets out a relieved moan at finally being touched but it only lasts for a moment because nothing escalates.

“You said something nice. This ain’t nice, sweetheart,” he tells you with a groan, squeezing himself further in between your legs to get closer to your smug expression. You swear the precome over the sensitive head and both of Joel’s hands fly to the kitchen counter. He places them flat against the surface, “Really not gonna say anythin?’

You bite your bottom lip and shake your head, eyes still glazed over with your post-orgasmic bliss but now also sporting an innocence that drives him mad. You start stroking his dick, fist tightening around his girth and he can feel himself pulse in your hand.

It feels fucking great as you drag your palm over the skin again and again, but something clicks in Joel’s head when desperation hits. Fuck, he wants to come.

It would be impossible to make his body listen to him right now as it feels disconnected from reality and control. He tilts his hips, looks down at where you’re touching him so expertly, and then fucks himself into your tight grip.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say in disbelief but never falter. If anything, you manage to squeeze enough to make it a tighter fit without hurting him, “Fuck, you’re so hot like this.”

“Fuck,” he swears loudly and speeds up his hips. One of the hands on the kitchen table comes up to grab a cabinet handle, knuckles turning white as he strains to chase his orgasm.

When the rubber band at the base of his spine snaps, Joel stills his hips. Your hand hesitates for a second, but then the first rope of come spills over your hand and you milk him for every drop he has in him.

Joel hasn’t come like this in a while; always empties himself sheathed inside your soft cunt, but when you praise him absentmindedly as he comes, he finds that he might become partial to it. He pants through the almost painful clenches of his lower stomach and balls.

When he whimpers at the over-sensitivity, your hand stills completely. Your free hand strokes his cheek with the back of your fingers, “You good? Talk to me.”

It takes a beat to find his bearings once more. His hand plops down onto the counter again. He mumbles with exhaustion coating his voice, “Alright. ‘M back.”

He thinks you’re as spent as him, but with your remaining energy, you lift your hand from his cock to lick his come off the back of it with the flat of your tongue. He groans, “Dirty girl.”

“What? It has vitamins,” you tease, giving your hand another kitten lick, “Unfortunately not D. Should’ve been vitamin D.”

Joel rolls his eyes. He struggles a little with his balance as he gets dressed again, blood still not having fully returned to his brain. He gets the paper towels and helps you clean up, but you just look at him with a dazed smile.

“What?” He questions.

“You better fuck me like that tonight,” you muse.

“You know what to say, and I’ll be there. No pregaming,” he replies simply and helps you onto the ground again, “Now go change, momma.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @littlevenicebitch69

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badcaseofcasey · 1 year

Text

If anyone asked Steve about his words, he’d say he didn’t even remember getting them. That he was so young when it happened, he can't remember. Some would tell him he’s lucky; he knows his soulmate is out there, but he doesn’t know who, so he can date and meet people freely, knowing that one day he’ll meet back up with the person he’s “meant to be with.”

Others would shake their heads in pity, tell him that it must be hard to have met your soulmate and then lost them again. To not remember that magical moment of the words buzzing across his skin as they appeared and he first caught a glimpse of his soulmate. There were entire genres of movies, books, and songs dedicated to that first moment, and he doesn’t get to remember it.

But of course Steve remembers it.

How could he forget the moment when he realized that finally, he knew for sure that there was someone out there who loved him and would keep loving him no matter what? At least, that’s how it felt when it happened, all the way back when he was in elementary school.

He had been at the park one day after school with one of the many nannies he had growing up, his parents away on another of his dad’s business trips. Even this young, he can remember seeing the other parents at the park and wondering if it was weird that he always seemed to come with his nanny.

Steve was working on building a very intricate sandcastle in the sand box when he heard his words, and felt the accompanying prickle across his rib cage that he would later learn meant his words had snaked their way up his side.

“Hey, wanna fight a dragon with me?”

Part 2

#plz enjoy this steddie brainworm that found its way into my head #let me know if you want to read more!#i’ve been really enjoying all the ‘met as kids’ aus that i’ve been seeing lately #so here’s mine #my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #soulmate au #met as kids au #Stranger Things #steddie soulmate au

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thefreakandthehair · 1 year

Text

happy (belated, sorry!) birthday to @henderdads!! this was supposed to be just fluffy but y'know. the hurt/comfort monster got me. I hope you had a perfect day! <333

can also be found here on AO3!

stars and satellites (will always bring me home)

---

Eddie tries not to think about his birthday.

He and Wayne have an agreement to let it pass with little to no mention, save for his 16th birthday when he’s able to start driving and his 18th birthday when he hands Eddie a few singles and tells him to go grab himself his first legal pack of cigarettes— and to get one for him, too, since he’ll be at the store anyways.

It works for Eddie and he goes as far as to hide his birthday from his friends for as long as he possibly can. Gareth, Jeff, and Frank still have no idea. The new found family he’s been adopted into since averting the (apparently third or fourth) Apocalypse don’t know, despite being asked by just about everyone at least once. It’s a fine-tuned skill, evading the question and changing the subject.

“Hey Eddie, when’s your birthday? Did we miss it already this year?” Dustin asks at Will’s own birthday party.

Eddie smirks. “Roll for insight, Young Henderson.”

“Alright, got a die?”

“Nope, darn!” Eddie pretends to pat the pockets of his jeans before shrugging and walking away.

Nancy is the hardest to fend off but unless she finds his birth information through the microfiche at the library, he’s stalwart in his stance. She might, though, and that’s his only real concern. But by and large, his friends let it go, chalking it up to one of Eddie’s many quirks and occasionally joking about it when someone else’s birthday rolls around. The one person who won’t put it down though?

Steve Harrington.

Steve I Throw Parties For Everyone Harrington. Steve I’m Going To Annoy You About This At Least Once A Week Harrington. Steve Is It Today? Is It Tomorrow? You Seem Like A Winter Baby? Harrington.

And truthfully, Eddie can’t find it within himself to be genuinely mad at him about it, despite having snapped at everyone else who’s dared to ask more than once. Eddie grants Steve a pass for reasons he’s not quite ready to evaluate just yet, reasons he knows he’ll never tell, reasons that would require the same security clearance that knowing his birthday would because knowing his birthday would mean knowing this past. He’s not sure yet if he wants everyone— or anyone— to know about his dear old dad.

In true The Universe Must Be Sentient And Actively Hate Me fashion, Steve happens to ask him again on his actual birthday. Steve’s backyard is glowing in the bluish tint of the full moon, stars twinkling in and out behind rogue clouds and smoke billowing from the joint they pass between them up towards the sky. It’s cold— early February in Hawkins is no joke— but Steve and Eddie have discovered an affinity for the cold breeze against their skin, finding it grounding and centering in its own way.

“So, when’s your birthday? Is it getting close?” It’s a question Eddie’s heard no less than twenty times in the same cheeky intonation, Steve having learned not to expect anything besides an out of pocket response. What he doesn’t expect is silence. Steve never expects silence from Eddie.

He turns to look at Eddie and sees him sitting in the same patio chair he’s been in all night, right next to him— too close, but not close enough at the same time. One leg is drawn up beneath one thigh and Eddie looks up at the sky, pointedly avoiding eye contact. If the moment didn’t feel as heavy as it does, Steve would find himself staring at the muscles of his neck and the way his throat bobs when he swallows. It is heavy though, and Steve can only focus on the weight of the space between them.

“Hey, you good? You know I’m just fucking with you, right?” Steve asks, passing the joint back to him as an excuse to pull his attention back from the sky above them. Of all of the things Steve’s imagined having to fight for attention from, the moon was certainly not one of them but he supposes that tracks for Eddie. Nothing about Eddie is according to plan.

Eddie takes the joint and carefully avoids Steve’s eyes, keeping his glance at his hands before returning to the stars and taking a deep inhale. Another few hits will make this all go away, he thinks to himself. The day had been difficult— memories he’d rather not have creeping up and wrapping themselves around his limbs like living vines.

Steve watches little bits of smoke curl out on his exhale and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“Ed, seriously, I’ll stop asking. I’m just teasing, I’ll quit it, just stop with the silence, dude. It’s… weird.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, quietly. It’s just a single word but he’ll take it.

“Why is it weird?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you’re not quiet. You don’t do silence unless something’s wrong.”

“Maybe something is.”

Steve sits for a second, his brain running in circles around itself. You fucked it up, c’mon, you kept asking, you knew better, why’d you have to keep prying, now you made him uncomfortable like you swore not to do—

“I can smell your brain overheating from here, Steve. Relax. It’s not you, I promise.” Eddie chuckles humorlessly under his breath and he makes a spontaneous decision, an impulsive decision he might regret but there's a little part of him that finds it hard to believe he'll ever regret sharing something with Steve.

“Then what is it? What’s wrong? Is it, y’know, End of the World- related or…?” Steve’s voice trails off. Part of the reason they’ve come to have these nights smoking in the cold, alone together, is that exactly: End of the World- related invisible scars. But Eddie just shakes his head no and sighs, placing the joint down on the glass patio table.

“It’s today.”

“Huh?”

Eddie turns to face him and raises both eyebrows. “It’s. Today. My birthday. It’s today.”

“Wait— shit, really? And you’re telling me?” Steve’s heart pounds in his chest, not blind to the gravity of Eddie telling him his closest kept secret.

Eddie shrugs and smiles without it touching his eyes. “Guess so. Take it to your grave, please?”

“Well yeah, man, I don’t make a habit of going around and telling people’s secrets. But… thanks? For trusting me?” Steve reaches the few inches to Eddie’s shoulder and lets his hand rest there. It's contact but it's not enough. It’s never really enough, but it has to be. He has no reason to think Eddie feels the same way about him and he’ll be damned if he loses his best friend— second only to Robin, but that’s besides the point. The point is, he rests his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and lets his fingers move in slow repetitive circles into the fabric of Eddie’s jacket.

“You’re welcome. It’s just— I have some… not so great memories attached to my birthday so I don’t celebrate it. Rather it just not exist, to be honest.”

“Well, since it’s a big secret, you could just make it another day, y’know. We’ll all respect it and you can, like, create new memories and start over.”

Eddie glances down at Steve’s hand wandering, absentmindedly trailing his fingers along the base of his neck and to collarbone. Fuck his birthday, and fuck the horrible memories Clyde Munson had poured into it. The way his heart tumbles from his chest into his mouth negates all of it.

“Really? Any suggestions?” He breathes, relieved that Steve doesn’t pry. He’s learned enough about Steve’s own childhood though to imagine why he doesn’t. For all of their outward differences, Steve gets it. Gets him.

Steve watches Eddie’s eyes widen before they glance down at his hand and back up, filled with something that looks dangerously like hope. Steve, in turn, feels something dangerously like hope.

“Maybe the day you woke up? In the hospital? I don’t know, I can see you liking the whole phoenix thing. Rebirth into something beautiful or whatever.”

Eddie’s breath catches. Beautiful feels like an overinflated balloon floating precariously through the woods in Steve’s backyard— cheerful and buoyant, but always at the risk of catching on too sharp of a branch and tumbling back down to the hard ground.

“Beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah. It fits you.” Steve’s hand wanders again, this time intentionally, to brush a piece of Eddie’s hair behind his ear and cupping the side of his face.

“Steve…” He whispers as they move slowly— achingly slowly— together, as though attached by an invisible thread. And maybe they are— the little red string of fate that’s been pulling them closer and closer since the day they met. Close enough now, finally, for Eddie to know how Steve’s lips feel against his, how his hands feel in his hair, how his heart beats in his chest when Eddie presses one hand there to tether himself to reality with nothing. No one but his stars watch him find his way back home, to Steve, where he should've been all along.

Eddie’s new birthday becomes April 2nd, the day he’d woken up from the induced coma. Eddie and Steve’s anniversary becomes February 9th, his old birthday. He can’t imagine a better way to create beauty out of ashes.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stfic #myfic

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delicateflowerss · 1 year

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Savior Complex

JJ Maybank can't stop thinking about you after he finds you during one of your late-night swims. He'll do anything to figure out who you are, even if you don't want him to.

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, loss of virginity, dark!JJ, obsession, shoplifting, slight violence, pogue!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

this is loosely based off the daphne and apollo myth, enjoy <3

The first time JJ sees you he isn’t sure if you’re real or a figment of his imagination.

He’s not sure of the time. He just knows it’s late, the ocean matching the color of the night sky. The breeze hits him hard as he gulps down cheap beer.

He thought it would be a good night to take the boat out on the water.

Growing up, his dad would tell him how night was better for catching big fish.

He tells himself that he thought he would take his father’s advice out of pure boredom. Not because he was tired of feeling the crushing weight of silence in his house.

He isn’t as successful as he wanted to be, catching nothing of significance.

Until he sees you.

You’re far away from him, closer to shore than he is.

But once he spots you, he can’t take his eyes off you.

Even if he can’t make out your face, he can tell you’re the most beautiful creature he has ever laid his eyes on. You are graceful in your movements, like you learned how to swim before you could talk.

He could swear that your skin glowed in the moonlight.

You probably think no one is out there with you, acting like you aren’t under anyone’s prying eyes.

He almost feels bad while watching you, like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to.

You finally swim away and all he can do is let you, leaving him alone.

You haven’t left his mind since that night. He doesn’t think he recognizes you so he’s not sure you’re even from the island.

But he doesn’t think you’re a Touron either.

So, who are you?

He tries again, going back out on the water only to possibly catch a glimpse of you.

He waits hours and the most interesting thing he sees is a whale passing by. It calls out, a loud and longing noise.

It’s alone in the ocean, searching for another just like itself.

It doesn’t take long for JJ to run out of beer, swearing under his breath when he finds the empty cooler.

Another hour passes before he spots you again.

His lips part slightly as he watches you bathe in the moonlight. Any coherent thoughts have left him.

Finally, he blinks, swallowing before he yells out to you.

“Hey!”

Startled, you stop your careless fun, staring back at the strange boy on the boat as you stay afloat.

Before he can say anything else, you’re already swimming away.

“Wait-,” he starts, reaching his hand out.

But you’re too far to even hear him. JJ doesn’t think he’s seen someone move that fast before.

He curls his fingers into his palm as he presses his lips together.

He thought he could at least find out your name. Instead, you were a fawn in the forest and he was the hunter, snapping a twig and ruining his moment to strike while letting you run away.

Another week has passed, and JJ still hasn’t been able to get you off his mind.

The only good thing that came out of his attempt to talk to you is that he was able to see your face before you swam away.

It’s burned into his memory, the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last thing before he goes to sleep.

It’s not lost on him that he knows nothing about you. But he feels like he does. He feels like he’s supposed to know you.

He worries that he hit his head and should be taken to the hospital. He’s never felt this way about anyone before and he isn’t exactly sure why he feels this way about you.

It doesn’t help that he hasn’t seen you since. Not that he’s actively looking, but everyday he goes around wondering if he’ll see you today.

He knows your face and you must be somewhere on the island. It’s just up to fate or coincidence when you finally run into him.

“JJ, we’ve seen that movie ten times. We need to watch something different tonight.”

“I would love to hear you come up with something better. But I really don’t think you can,” JJ says, giving his friend a taunting look.

Pope rolls his eyes before retorting, “I can think of a thousand different movies better than C.H.U.D.”

It seems like JJ doesn’t hear him, the chiming of the bell above the shop door interrupts Pope’s sentence.

He trails behind JJ as they walk into the corner store.

“Hey, Bob. How ya doin’?” JJ greets the man at the register.

“I have my eye on you, JJ,” Bob simply replies.

The cheeky smile is wiped off JJ’s face before he heads right for the beer.

“6 or 12?”

“12. We’re completely out,” Pope responds.

JJ looks through the smudged glass one more time before grabbing the 12-pack and walking back to the register.

Except, he slows, blocking out whatever Pope is telling him.

“You’re 8 dollars short.”

“What? No-,” you start to say as you dig into the beat-up purse hanging off your shoulder.

“Sorry, Miss. You’re going to have to put something back.”

You give up on searching for more money, sighing as you point to the sugar. Bob puts it to the side and bags up the rest of your groceries.

Once you’re handed the paper bag, you’re walking out the door.

JJ almost freezes for a second, having seen the entire scene. He knows he can’t miss another chance.

He leaves the beer with Pope as he runs out the store.

“Hey! Wait,” he calls out to you.

This time, you turn around, not getting ready to run off.

You look back at him with a question in your eyes and it takes him a moment to think of what he’s going to say to you.

His eyes can’t help but rake over your figure. Your clothes don’t match your appearance, too worn out for such an alluring person.

“I couldn’t help but see that you didn’t get your sugar,” he explains, motioning back at the store. “Bob can be such a dick.”

He swallows when you don’t crack a smile, still staring at him with uncertainty.

“If you give me a second, I can see what I can do.”

All you do is stare.

“Okay? Just wait,” he quickly says before going back into the store.

He keeps his head down, going unnoticed while Bob is ringing up Pope. He sneaks through the aisles, grabbing a small pink carton off a shelf.

A triumphant smirk is painted on his lips when he slips out of the store, finding you waiting.

He doesn’t miss the surprise in your eyes as you take the sugar from him.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Don’t worry about it. Not a penny out of my pocket.”

You raise your eyebrows slightly, lips parting as you understand what he means.

“Still. You could get into a lot of trouble,” you wearily say.

“No trouble I haven’t already been in,” JJ says almost proudly. “Bob’s all talk anyway.”

“Well, thanks.” A small smile finally forms on your face.

JJ takes that as a win.

As you shift your feet, JJ scratches the back of his head before saying what’s really on his mind.

“I hope I didn’t scare you the other night.”

You slightly shake your head. But you bite your lip, like you’re stopping yourself from saying anything else.

“If I did, hopefully this made up for it.” JJ chuckles and as he starts to say something else, you cut him off.

“I have to get going. But thank you again,” you hurriedly say before turning around.

JJ watches you leave with an open mouth.

“What was that about?” Pope asks, stepping beside JJ, a pack of beer in his hand.

He glances at Pope but simply shakes his head.

He just wanted to know your name.

JJ’s unrest doesn’t last long. It’s only a few days later when he sees you again as he’s walking along the shore.

He notices you first while your eyes are glued to the sand, stopping every once in a while to pick something up.

By the time he reaches you, you have no choice but to look up, finding familiar blue eyes.

“Weird running into you again,” he remarks. “You aren’t following me, are you?”

He has to stop himself from grinning at the look on your face. You stare at him with wide eyes before shaking your head.

“No-.”

He laughs, unable to contain it anymore, flashing pearly white teeth at you.

“I’m just playing with you.”

You smile a little, eyes falling on the waves crashing onto the shore.

“What are you doin’ out here anyway?” JJ asks, trying to peek into your closed hand.

You hesitate before opening your curled fingers, showing him the seashells you’ve been collecting.

You worry he’s going to make fun of you but relief washes over you when he smiles.

“Wow. You just found all these?”

“Yeah. This one is my favorite.” You hold the seashell up and as the sun shines through the pearl color, JJ notices the sparkling tiny flecks.

He quickly moves his eyes to yours as you stare at its’ beauty, and he decides the seashell doesn’t have anything on the way your eyes shine.

“It’s pretty, but it doesn’t really have much on you.”

You cast your eyes downward at his comment and he internally curses at himself, the words having come out without him thinking.

He decides to change the subject, starting to squint because of the bright sunshine.

“How come I’ve never seen you before? You just move here or something?”

“No,” you answer. “I’ve pretty much been here for my entire life. I was just homeschooled so that’s probably why we’ve never met.”

“Homeschool,” he says the word like it’s foreign to him. “I can’t imagine what that would be like.”

“Lonely,” you immediately say.

Before JJ can say anything else, he hears the voices of his friends behind him. You notice them too, eyes scanning over the group that is loudly talking and laughing.

“If you’re not busy, you can come hang with us,” he offers, pointing to the group heading toward the two of you.

By the look on your face, he can tell you’re going to say no. He internally flinches to prepare for it.

“Hey, it’s the girl from the store,” Pope says, stumbling through the sand.

You smile sheepishly, feeling all eyes on you.

“Yeah, this is…” JJ hopes that you introduce yourself for him, still not knowing your name.

When you say it, he can’t help but repeat it over and over again in his head like he’s casting a spell.

“He’s not bothering you, is he?” John B asks lightheartedly.

“I was just inviting her to hang out with us,” JJ explains.

John B goes to say something else to JJ while Sarah gasps at the seashells you’re still holding.

“Those are beautiful! Did you just find these?” She runs her fingers over them. “I’m Sarah by the way,” she adds, throwing you a polite smile.

“And I’m Kie,” another girl says, giving a slight wave.

“Nice to meet you,” you say to both of them.

“So, what happened at the store? Is that where you met JJ?” Sarah asks with raised eyebrows.

“Uh, it’s a long story,” you chuckle a little.

“We’re all going back to John B’s. Why don’t you come and tell us about it?” When you hesitate, Kie continues, “come on. You have something better to do?”

You stare at the two girls’ hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer.

These are the kind of friends you always wished you had.

Finally, you nod, their grins overtaking their faces.

You feel his eyes on you more than once. There is a weight to it, lingering on you, feeling heavy on your skin.

You don’t really talk to JJ again that day, mostly talking to Sarah and Kie while you hang out on John B’s front porch.

JJ notices how you’re more comfortable around the girls. It never occurred to him that would probably be the case, being homeschooled and all.

You probably don’t have brothers, he guesses.

At least you’re there, around him. He can still learn things about you even in small ways.

That’s enough for him.

You don’t hesitate to accept when Sarah and Kie invite you to hang out with them again. You’ve never been the best at making friends and being isolated your whole life hasn’t helped.

So, you’re happy that they seem to want you to be their friend.

Almost everyone has gone inside by the time it gets dark.

Everyone except for you and JJ.

You both are drying off on folding chairs after an afternoon spent in the hot tub.

You were unsure when Sarah and Kie left. But you could tell Sarah wanted to be alone with John B, and Kie with Pope.

So, you’re left in the humid air with JJ. The only sounds are the hum of insects and the faint noise of a boat horn occasionally.

You both sip on beers, your mouth twisting up at the taste.

JJ is the first to break the silence.

“You know, for having been homeschooled, I’m surprised your parents let you go out in the middle of the night to swim in the ocean.”

His eyes peek over at you, and he takes note of how you keep your stare on your hands in your lap.

You swallow, the words not coming easily to you.

“Um, my dad left a while ago. And my mom was never really around so…”

The air suddenly feels thicker, a somberness settling between the two of you.

JJ’s lips part as you continue, “I live alone. I have for the last year. That’s why I don’t always have enough to buy things like sugar.”

Your voice is fragile, like it could crack at any given moment.

You finally meet his gaze, and you almost wish you hadn’t.

He has that look of pity that you know all too well, but there’s something else there.

“I guess we have more in common than I thought,” is all he says.

You look at him, confused, until realization hits you. Not many people steal for fun, they do it because they have to.

“Why don’t I take you fishing tomorrow?” His usual cockiness is back, any seriousness from earlier is long gone. “People like us have to learn how to live off the land.” A smirk grows on his lips, an electricity present in his blue eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

You smile, not wasting a second in saying yes.

People like us dance around in your head.

You and JJ start bright and early, going out on the water in the same boat where you first saw him.

You worried fishing would be boring, but you don’t miss a thing JJ does or says as he gets everything ready.

You two end up getting a full net of fish and JJ knows all the work was worth it just to see the smile on your face.

As the day gets later, you can’t help but jump into the water for a quick swim. You feel better in the water, like your head is clearer.

All JJ can do is watch and he still doesn’t understand why it seems like you were born to be in the water, like it’s your home. A serenity passes over you that he’s never seen on anyone else.

Later in the afternoon, you show JJ where you live so he can dock near it.

It’s not a house you’re proud of, but it’s all you have.

Oddly, you don’t feel ashamed when JJ steps foot into it. You don’t get the feeling like you have to pretend around him.

JJ looks around as you both bring the fish in. It’s quaint but cleaner than his house could ever be.

“Should we start frying up this fish?” he asks you, already knowing your answer.

The hot, sticky air has started to cool a little. You and JJ sit under a tall oak tree in your front yard, moss draped over branches helping to shade you from the setting sun.

Dirty plates sit by your legs as JJ reclines against the tree, relaxed with his eyes closed. The sun-bleached strands of his hair stick up, messy and uncared for. You notice he runs his hand through his hair a lot, seemingly absentmindedly on his end.

His eyelids finally open, startling you as he catches you staring at him.

Your eyes fall to your knees, finding an ant crawling on your skin. You brush it off, hoping it finds a soft spot in the green grass beneath you.

When JJ looks at you, he still sees a question mark. There’s still so much he doesn’t know or understand about you. Anytime he feels like he’s getting somewhere with you, you pull away.

He wishes he could open your skull and find out exactly what you’re thinking.

But he can’t do that.

He hopes a simple comment will suffice for now.

“I had fun today.”

You finally look back at him, a smile easily forming on your face.

“Me too.”

You’re so close to him that he can smell the sea salt on your skin. It clouds his mind along with the way you keep your eyes set on him.

He barely thinks as he leans in closer, his nose bumping into yours.

You freeze, letting his lips ghost over yours, warm breath fanning over you.

“JJ,” you whisper, making him pause.

You pull away when he falters, watching the dazed look in his eyes disappear before looking down.

Before anger or disappointment can wash over his face, you grab his hand.

“Not right now, JJ. But…maybe someday.”

He meets your gaze and what you see is worse than what you tried to prevent.

Hope.

But that hope is quickly dashed away when you stop coming around to The Chateau.

He wishes you had just told him right when he tried to kiss you that you didn’t feel the same way. But he’s not sure that would have stopped the continuous thoughts about you.

Or the pain in his chest.

He dodges his friends’ questions about you. They seem to handle the rejection better than he can, disappointed and perplexed at best.

The silence in his house seems louder too, an unbearable noise he can’t tolerate anymore.

So, he looks for noise.

Your screen door slams as you walk out onto the porch. You’re wearing a dress, clean and old-looking.

Even when he’s angry with you, he can’t stop from dragging his eyes over you.

You must have seen him coming up the path to your house, finding him just outside.

There’s a roughness to you that he hadn’t seen before, and he realizes you couldn’t have made it this far by being gentle.

“Why haven’t you been around to John B’s?” His forehead is creased, and he doesn’t try to soften his words.

“JJ-.”

“Because when you said, “not right now,” I thought you meant we would at least be friends,” he spits out.

“Really? I had a feeling you wouldn’t be happy with that either.” You cross your arms, not moving an inch.

Your reply just makes him shake his head.

“Do you want the truth, JJ?”

“Yeah. That would’ve been nice from the beginning.” His eyes find yours while you gnaw on your bottom lip.

“I like you, JJ. But I can’t be with you.” Unlike him, you soften your words. But it doesn’t stop the next thing coming out of your mouth to him like a slap in the face.

“Ever.”

“What?” he asks in disbelief.

“I can’t do the boyfriend thing,” you immediately explain. “I need my space. And my independence. It’s also a promise I made. You might not understand but-.”

“I can give you space.” He steps closer to you.

“No. That’s not enough.” You back away as he gets closer.

“I don’t get it. You want to be alone for the rest of your life?” Bewilderment laces his tone.

“It’s not like that, JJ. I would have liked to be your friend. But nothing more.”

He stands there and listens, finally understanding what you’re saying. His pain is clear, eyes seeming to dim when he realizes you mean it.

“Maybe you’re just scared,” he tries again, reaching his hand out to you. But you squirm away, shaking your head.

You step past him, finally able to get around him, moving to the grass of your front yard.

“I’m sorry but it’s not going to happen. Just leave me alone, JJ.”

You stare at the back of his head, waiting for him to admit defeat.

Then he turns around and the look on his face is anything but. He has the same dazed look in his eyes as the day he tried to kiss you.

“I-I can’t,” he simply says, walking closer to you. “No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Fear jumps in your chest, moving to your veins.

“I need you.”

His fingers only wrap around your arm for a few seconds. With all your strength, you wiggle out of his grasp, adrenaline pushing you to run far away from him.

Your house is removed from the civilization of The Cut, just water and backroads surrounding it. When you hear JJ’s footfall behind you, all you can do is hope that you know the land better than he does.

After a while, dirt starts to turn to mud as your legs start to get tired. Trees surround you and swampy water lies ahead of you. You realize no one is going to be driving back here because of it so your hope of someone finding you is washed away.

There’s also nowhere for you to go besides the way you came. But as you try to catch your breath, you’re not sure if you can even run any longer.

Hopefully JJ got tired too, or even lost.

Except, it’s not long before you hear a particularly loud footstep. He says your name wearily as you whip your head around. He keeps his steps slight, moving toward you little by little, trying not to let you get away again. He looks like he’s trying to catch his own breath.

But as you look around, you don’t have much of a choice of where to go.

One failed attempt to run past him lands you in his arms.

The noise you let out is of pure frustration and fear. When he pushes you to the ground, you can’t stop the sobbing, tears streaming down your face.

You taste salty tears on your tongue, and it reminds you of the ocean. Will this just be a faded painful memory one day, or will the one thing you love be forever tarnished by this act of violence?

JJ’s weight lies on top of you as he kisses you, something he’s been wanting to do for a long time now. He tastes the tears on your lips, careless of the sob you let out when he comes up for air.

You push at his chest as he trails his lips along your neck. He claws at your dress, ripping it from your body, wanting to see more of you.

“Please, stop. JJ,” your attempts to stop him are dismissed.

You look up at the tall trees above you, almost touching the blue sky, shading you from the hot sun. You keep your eyes on the trees as you hear him undo his shorts.

A ragged cry leaves your lips as you feel him push inside you. A pleasured groan leaves his as he feels your cunt wrapped around him.

“It hurts,” you cry out, but he just shushes you.

“It’ll stop soon,” he says before thrusting into you again.

He keeps his eyes on you as his face contorts in the ecstasy he is getting from you.

His fingers ghost over your skin and they feel dirty, sticky for some reason. He rubs your breast before leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth, leaving a wet spot where his tongue was.

The pain fades like he says but something akin to seasickness twists in the pit of your stomach.

His thrusts get sloppier as you grab his arm. Love was never something that felt important to you. You didn’t want to show your vulnerabilities to someone, lying naked for them to see all of you.

But what do you do when someone forcefully picks you apart, watching you get bloody and raw from their doing.

He stills, a warmth filling you deep inside. JJ finds the crook of your neck, breathing heavily.

As he traces the damp skin of your cheek, he thinks about how he’s saving you. You thought life was better alone, but he’s here to show you differently. He’ll help you through the growing pains of changing, of learning to be with someone else.

As you lie under him, your eyes fall onto the white cloth of your dress.

It’s stained and ripped, thrown to the side, careless that it meant something to you.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader

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