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misshoneyimhome · 5 months

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I know we’ve only done present day Willy fics and it’s totally okay if it’s not your cup of tea but these hospital pics have me thinking about how soft Willy would be with your kiddos at Christmas! My sibling and I would always make my mum and dad sit, make them paper tickets and serve hot chocolate to them as we watched the Polar Express like we were lil conductors and I can do imagine his lil blonde babies doing the exact same thing and he’s just so soft and excited that you two created such adorable toddlers and they’re at the age where the holiday starts to get really fun🥹

Not my cup of tea? 😍 Darling, that man triggers my desire for a baby even from over 3,500 miles away 🙈 one family Christmas scenario coming up ❤️

[So, let’s envision this scenario taking place in about five years; and also as a way for me to manifest that William stays in Toronto 🙏🏻]

I hope it's alright that I incorporated a bit of your childhood memory because oh my goodness, I wish my brother and I had done that too 😱 It's so sweet! Yet, I've also intertwined it with one of my own most cherished memories; and I hope it somewhat resembles what you had in mind ❤️

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Have yourself a merry little Christmas...

“Mooom, Daaaaad!” a kid's voice rang out through the condo. "Wake up!"

You stirred slightly as the young boy's shouts slowly roused you from sleep.

“Hey, your son's awake,” you murmured softly with a gentle grin, nudging the man lying next to you. But he simply grunted deeply, still facing the other way and buried in the pillow.

“Mom! Dad!”

"Ugh," he let out another deep, sleepy groan. “I'm sleeping, so he's all yours…”

You blinked your eyes open, chuckling lightly at William's unshakeable sleepiness. Leaning over, you planted a soft kiss on his neck.

“Looks like our boys need us, love,” you tried to rouse him, but only deep, rumbling sounds came from the large man.

So, with another light chuckle, you rolled over, got up, and dressed in your most comfortable loungewear before heading to the kitchen.

“Wow, what's happened here?” you exclaimed with a big smile as you entered the kitchen/dining area.

"We made you breakfast, Mum!" exclaimed Eliot with so much pride. "Look! It's our favourites: chocolate crunch and oats."

It was incredibly heart-warming. Your two sons had woken up earlier than you and your husband, William Nylander, on this December Sunday morning, when William didn't have any training or a match in the evening.

"We did it almost like you do," Lucas chimed in, also brimming with excitement, and you had to fight back the urge to get teary-eyed.

On the large mahogany dining table, draped with a red Christmas cloth, the boys had raided nearly every cupboard in the kitchen - biscuits, bread, oats, chocolate crumbles, Nutella, jam - then continued to raide the fridge for butter, milk, and other breakfast essentials. They'd even set out plates, cutlery, glasses, and mugs, just like you typically did on family mornings.

And you could see they'd attempted to make coffee but had given up halfway through. Not that it mattered; their effort alone was enough to melt your heart.

"Oh, boys! This is so wonderful - I can't believe you've done all of this," you said, pulling the two young ones into a tight hug, embracing them both.

"Come on, Mum!" protested Eliot, eager to continue with his morning plans.

"Right, why don't you both go and give dad a surprise jump? I'll wrap things up here," you proposed with a wide smile, prompting them to dash into the bedroom and wake up William.

As you brewed the coffee they had attempted to make, you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy thinking about your amazing family. And taking advantage of the moment, you decided to whip up some scrambled eggs, a dish you knew they all loved.

Elliot, nearly six years old, was your eldest. He was a spitting image of William, from his blond hair and blue eyes to his well-defined nose and build. His laughter echoed that of your husband's, and that mischievous grin appeared to be a direct copy paste of his. Even William's love for food seemed to have been passed on to Elliot.

Eliot had also been a little unexpected. Sure, you and William knew what could happen when you’d have sex without any form of protection, but you hadn’t expected for anything to happen so quickly.

The idea of having children had been a topic in your relationship for some time back then, and after being together for almost three years, both of you felt it was a good time to start trying. While you had always considered children as an option, you weren't always certain about William's stance on parenting. Coming from a large family, he was naturally surrounded by discussions about children at family gatherings, yet given his boyish and charming nature, you weren't sure if he truly saw himself in a parental role.

However, something changed after a round of playoffs, where the Leafs nearly clinched victory in the second round. William had observed the many families within his team, witnessing how family members lifted the spirits of his teammates after the loss. He noticed the pure joy that radiated from them upon seeing their children, and just like that something had sparked within him.

Although your captivating smile and laughter were undeniably the most wonderful things for him, something deeper started to stir within the forward. A small urge to see you carrying his child emerged, along with a vision of the two of you with little versions of yourselves.

Consequently, during the following off-season, William brought up the topic, and you eagerly agreed to slowly start trying. However, it seemed that his strong genes and highly active sperm weren't interested in taking things slow, as by the beginning of the new season, you announced your very first pregnancy.

And then there's Lucas. He's more of a mommy's boy, incredibly sweet and almost innocent, always eager to lend a hand. And despite having just turned three, he showed a remarkable level of maturity for his age.

Elliot was undoubtedly his favourite role model, besides William, of course. However, he had his own unique qualities that set him apart from your other boys, although hockey remained a common passion among all of them. Whether it was watching daddy train or play at the rink, engaging in mini stick games, or watching a match at home, they were deeply involved whenever the sport was involved.

Yet, Lucas also harboured a love for drawing and enjoyed assisting you with cooking. He relished being around when you were cleaning and was content entertaining himself if you were occupied with something else.

In general, both boys were remarkable. Despite the typical sleep disruptions from cries and illnesses, they were relatively hassle-free. Right from their infancy, they seemed to inherit William's talent for sleeping and your family's collective love for food.

And you wholeheartedly loved cooking for your boys. They appreciated everything you made and devoured meals as if there was no tomorrow. Except on Mother's Day, when, if possible, William would take charge of the kitchen to prepare something special or opt for takeout. But the important thing was, you weren't the one cooking.

And neither were you this morning.

Eliot had expertly guided his younger brother in setting the table like he remembered you always did, along with their homemade Christmas decorations. It was nothing short of perfection.

"Mommy, daddy's finally here!" Lucas hollered as the two boys practically dragged William out of the bedroom and towards the table.

"Took you long enough," you chuckled lightly, earning a soft smile from your man, dressed in his comfortable blue and white checkered pyjamas and a loose white t-shirt. His hair was a tousled mess, resembling a lion's mane, and his eyes betrayed the lingering tiredness. To be fair, he'd arrived home late last night due to an away game, and today you were just grateful that there were no hockey commitments. Today was all about cosying up together as a family and truly celebrating Christmas.

William, naturally, leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Morning, babe," he greeted with a drowsy smile.

The four of you then settled into your usual spots: you across from William, with Eliot beside him and Lucas seated next to you.

"Now, what do we say?" You grinned at your sons.

"God aptit!" the two boys chimed simultaneously, before you all delved into the delicious bread and whatever else the boys had discovered in the kitchen cupboards.

It was a simple yet delightful meal.

William's face also lit up as he savoured the food his sons had prepared, and his sleepiness seemed to fade away as Eliot started chatting away, as he always did.

And as you all neared the end of the first course of the day, Eliot suddenly brimmed with excitement.

"Wait, there's more!"

"More? How can there be more, darling?" you chuckled, exchanging glances with William, both intrigued by the young boys' behaviour.

"Come on, Luke," the eldest instructed, leading them hand in hand towards Eliot's room. And when they returned, they held something behind their backs, sporting mischievous grins across their small faces.

You and William couldn't help but smile as you watched your sons beam with joy. They took deep breaths, almost acting shy, and the anticipation in the air was palpable.

"We've made you something..."

"I helped Eliot!" Lucas nearly shouted.

"And what's that?" William laughed, encouraging the boys to come closer to each of you and unveil the little piece of paper they held in their tiny hands.

"You've made these?" You smiled, seeing their excitement as they nodded in affirmation.

"We made them in kindergarten," Eliot explained.

The tiny piece of paper was covered in glitter, with the letters T E K K E T written somewhat crookedly in what seemed to be a child's handwriting.

"Baby, did you write this?" You asked, slightly surprised that your five-year-old had been practicing his writing.

"Yes, Miss Turner helped us spell."

"That's amazing, Eliot. I'm so proud of you," you beamed.

William's reaction mirrored yours in heartfelt pride.

"But then the big question is... what are tickets for?" he inquired curiously, prompting the boys to exchange quick glances before looking back at you and your husband.

"It's for the fort!" Lucas exclaimed with excitement.

"Oh, so you've built a fort?" you asked with a light chuckle, noticing no fort in the living room.

"Well..." Eliot hesitated for a moment as if trying to articulate his idea. "We thought that we can build it – together," he suddenly blurted out, throwing his arms in the air. "For when we watch the Christmas movies."

It was a tradition you had established in your family. Whenever you had a family day together in December, watching Christmas movies was a must. Well, the tradition might have expanded to other days outside the holiday season, but it all began here.

"Well, I'm sure daddy would love to build the fort with you then," you grinned at William, who chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"No, Mum, you need to help too," Lucas insisted.

"How about you strong boys build the greatest fort ever seen – and then I'll cook up some delicious snacks for when we snuggle up? How does that sound?"

"YEAH!" the boys exclaimed before darting off to gather pillows and blankets to throw onto the sofa.

"They're all yours," you smiled at William, knowing he was the ultimate fort builder in the household.

And soon, the condo resonated with cheers. You put on some Christmas tunes while clearing the table, and the boys began their creative fort construction.

Meanwhile, you started gathering an assortment of snacks from your kitchen. Considering William's diverse eating habits – especially his penchant for candies brought back from Sweden – you prepared a snack board comprising various Canadian candies, the best Swedish treats, alongside nuts, fruits, and, of course, popcorn to mix things up a bit.

Christmas ambience filled the air of your home, creating a perfect day brimming with laughter and joy. And after a while, you once again heard the boys' excited shouts.

"We're done!" Eliot's voice echoed from the living room area. Looking up, you saw the little boys, along with their dad, had fashioned a beautiful architectural marvel from an assortment of pillows, blankets, duvets, and whatever else they could find.

"Wow, I can't wait to use my ticket to see how it looks on the inside," you exclaimed joyfully, joining the guys by the sofa as you carried the snack board.

"Looks like you've been quite creative yourself," William chuckled, admiring the variety of foods before pulling you in for a tender kiss.

"Ew..." Eliot teased, before the boys eagerly snuggled in under the tent made from a large bedsheet serving as the roof.

With laughter, you and William then presented your "tickets" to the boys to enter the fort along with the two family dogs. You couldn't help but praise the cosy space they'd created. They'd even taken some of your decorative fake candle lights and placed them inside.

And then, firstly, you began playing the timeless classic...

"The Polar Express" was naturally the first film to watch. The boys adored it, and truth be told, so did you and William.

After several much-needed bathroom breaks, the boys selected the next movie: William's favourite, "The Grinch."

Though it might have been slightly more serious than what you'd typically show boys their age, you caved in because of their genuine love for it.

By the end of the second film, you had all snuggled up entirely, slowly dozing off for a nap. And so, you did.

What felt like a brief moment later, you suddenly awoke and nudged William, prompting the boys to gradually return to reality.

"Hey, boys, let's step out and have a quick round of real food," you softly suggested.

"But I'm not hungry," Eliot whined.

"I know, sweetheart, but you need real food in your tummy after all those snacks," you chuckled lightly.

"Alright."

Once everyone had finished a plate of leftovers, you were back in the fort with mugs filled with hot chocolate.

"Alright, what movie now?" William asked, ready for the next choice.

"When are we going to watch hockey?" Eliot asked, hopeful.

"Nope, no hockey today, Eliot - mom's orders," William chuckled, aware he had to disappoint his son, which made Eliot pout.

"But Uncle Alex is playing today," the boy whined, casting his best puppy-dog eyes towards you, knowing you might sway.

"Alright," you sighed softly. "But I believe we can manage one more movie before Uncle's match, huh?" you suggested, earning excited nods from the family.

And soon, everyone was engrossed in the following film, “Home Alone”, as William held you closely, speaking softly into your ear.

"I didn't think we could watch hockey today," he playfully remarked.

"Well, with all these snacks we've had today, I'm sure these boys won't even be awake for puck drop," you cheekily responded, turning your head slightly to meet your wonderful husband's eyes.

"Sneaky," he chuckled, before planting a kiss on your lips, pulling you a bit closer before easing back. "You're such an incredible mom, you know that, right?" He spoke softly, lightly stroking your chin with his thumb.

"And you're an incredible father," you timidly whispered. But William shook his head gently.

"I haven't even done half of what you've done with these boys - the way you're always there for them, handling every situation when I'm not around..."

You could tell this was something that often weighed on William's mind. But you also both knew this was the lifestyle you had chosen. He was the professional hockey player with season-long road trips, while you dedicated yourself to your family when not at work.

"And I've cherished every single minute of it... Sure, it's been tough. And, of course, I prefer it when you're home with us. But Willy... you're an amazing dad. You're always there for the boys - never doubt that" you reassured him, sensing a slight relaxation in his muscles in response to your words.

And so, with another sweet and tender kiss shared, you both returned to the movie, enjoying the warmth of your family time together.

As predicted, your two sons were fast asleep by the time the credits rolled across the screen. So, you and William then switched the TV to the local sports channel to catch Alex playing tonight's home match.

Despite dedicating the day to a Christmas-filled family time, you also held a soft spot for the sport, and naturally, you wanted to watch your brother-in-law play.

However, during the first period, your attention was swiftly diverted by William, who appeared to have shifted his focus from the game to you.

"What?" you chuckled lightly, catching his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied casually, but you weren't convinced. He had that mischievous look in his eyes that hinted at trouble. "You're just so beautiful."

Ah, he definitely had something on his mind.

Your eyes darted from side to side, noticing his widening grin and his attempts to divert his gaze momentarily towards the boys before returning to you.

"Oh no..." you chuckled again.

"What? No, what?" he innocently protested.

"Don't give me that look."

"What look?"

"You know – last time that happened, something happened," your eyes flickered toward Lucas, sound asleep by your legs, hinting that William's expression meant more than just a naughty thought.

"Well, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?"

William had always valued family deeply. He adored his own immensely, and even when he was single, although he might not have envisioned having children, secretly, he hoped for it.

Sure, to everyone else, he was the laid-back, confident, cheeky guy with impressive hockey skills. But there were many sides to him, and one of those harboured a longing for a family.

Then, when you entered his life, it suddenly felt like a real possibility. Your mature and caring nature took him by surprise, and he fell harder for you than he ever imagined. So, after spending time in a committed relationship, navigating its highs and lows, the idea of creating a true family became a tangible goal for him.

In a way, he felt like a whole new person, although he didn’t change all that much despite becoming a little bit more mature. But it was all so right to him. You were the one he’d want to have by his side for the rest of his life, so after your first son was born, he’d quickly taken the next stepped and locked you down with a ring on that beautiful finger. Letting the world know you belonged to him.

"You're sure you want to try for another one?" you chuckled, your eyes scanning his face.

"Yeah... baby, I'd want a lot more if I could have it my way," he grinned back.

"Easy for you to say," you teased. "You're not the one carrying them around for nine months before having to squeeze them out of your tiny vagina..."

William couldn't help but find your little outburst amusing, though he knew you were right. You were both in agreement about this, so he understood he couldn't demand too much from you.

"No, you're kind of the expert in that area."

"Hmm..." You pondered his words, snuggling a bit more into his warm body. "Perhaps... we could try for another," you gently smiled. "Maybe we'll even manage to create a girl this time."

"I thought you loved having boys."

"Yeah, well, having now experienced all this testosterone running around all the time, I wouldn't mind a little girlyness as well."

"Hmm... well then I guess we'll just have to practice real hard to make the perfect little baby girl," William nudged into the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses.

"Oh yeah, I think we'll have to put in some extra work for this one," you softly breathed out, letting his tender touch take over.

And before you knew it, you both agreed on carrying each boy into their respective rooms, tucking them nicely in, before leaving the kitchen and living room in the Christmas mess is was, and spend the evening making love in hope for another member to your little family.

#my asks #dad!willy #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #wn88 imagine #nhl hockey imagine

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

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ROADIE — TREVOR ZEGRAS

dad! trevor zegras x fem! reader

summary: in which your baby says her first word while Trevor is on a roadie.

warnings: pet names?

notes: i wrote this in about 2 hours and it was not proofread. so for all i know, this could be absolute trash.

“mama. can we say mama?” i probably looked like a crazy person, bent over the front of the cart, talking to my 10 month old in the grocery store with a rats nest of hair and wearing leggings with a heavily stained oversized Anaheim Ducks t-shirt. and the usual stares over being a 21 year old mom aren’t helping.

this has been the first time since Addy was born that no one was staying with me while Trevor is on a roadie, and it’s been a bit harder than i anticipated. it’s been exhausting because although Addy is delaying with her words, she excelled with her other milestones. namely walking. she took her first steps about two weeks ago and has been toddling about the apartment ever since, so life has turned into a fun little ‘where’s waldo?’ game every time i turn around for the past two days. she’s also going through a sleep regression, so she’s waking up every hour again, which leaves me with little to no time to sleep or shower or do anything besides dote on her. and then, of course, when i opened the cupboard this morning, i realized we were on the last jar of baby food, so cue a trip to the store.

Addy just makes some babbling noises and scream laughs in my face, making me flinch and straighten back up.

“alright duckling, i hear you loud and clear. let’s get checked out so we can go back home for some Bluey time, yeah?” i worked quickly and swiftly, scanning each glass jar of food at the self check out and bagging them based on vegetable, fruit, medley, or meal.

when i finally get out to the car and buckle Addy in, her little blue eyes, exact replicas of Trevor’s, sweep over my face as wide as saucers.

“can we try that again?” i make conversation as i finish buckling her car seat. “can you say mama? mama. mama.”

once again, my baby just stares back at me.

“or not. that’s cool too. you can totally not speak at all if you want. doesn’t matter to mommy, as long as you’re happy and healthy.”

with the grocery bags placed in the passengers seat, i start the drive back to the apartment.

when we get back, i turn the tv onto Bluey and set Addy in her jumper in the living room. giving myself some time to wash the dishes piling in the sink. about 10 minutes into it though, my phone starts ringing back in the living room. drying my hands on a dish towel, i walk the ten or so steps back to the couch and swipe at the answer button on my phone screen without even checking the caller id.

“hey babe!” Trevor’s face fills the screen in a facetime and his voice is like music to my ears.

“hi love! how was morning practice?” i use the remote sitting on the arm of the couch to pause the tv show while i go sit beside the jumper so Trevor can see our beautiful baby.

“it was good! the sharks aren’t ready for us.” his face lights up as soon as Addy comes into the camera view.

“that’s great. i believe in y’all! show those fish who the real predator is!” his laugh at my joke brings a smile to my lips and i’m overwhelmed with gratitude that this is the man i’ll be vowing to spend the rest of my life with this summer.

“how’s daddy’s little duckling?! daddy’s so happy to see your pretty little face! yes, he is!” his baby talk oddly causes my heart to skip a beat. “dada misses you so much. i can’t wait to be home tomorrow night so i can kiss all over your tiny face.”

“duh- duh” Addy babbles and i smile at Trevor on the screen.

“we’re taking dada’s absence to try and learn the word mama, aren’t we baby?” i direct the end of my sentence to Addy, who’s still babbling sounds.

“that’s cheating!” Trevor’s whine is joking and he opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can get a word out, someone else does.

“dada.” my eyes go wide, Trevor’s copying, and we both avert our gaze to our 10 month old, who just said her first word. her chubby little fingers are making grabby motions towards my phone, straight at her father.

“that’s right babygirl! say it again! say dada!” Trevor is frantic and i can see tears welling in his eyes, even through the screen.

“you can do it baby! say dada!” i encourage her, my own tears falling freely down my cheeks.

“dada. dada!” she looks at Trevor and repeats the word before looking up at me. “dada.”

“oh my god, she did it Trev! she said her first word!”

“i know! i was so worried it wasn’t gonna happen! i mean, i would love her regardless, but she did it! and it was dada!” the smile he wears is breathtaking and wide.

“she misses you. so do i.”

“i miss you too, baby. i’ll be home tomorrow night.”

****

Trevor gets home tonight and i have not gotten a reprieve from the endless shouts of dada, all morning. at the moment, Addy is wobbling down the hallway towards Trev and i’s room for the fifth time today, repeatedly shouting “dada! dada!”

i can’t be for certain, but i have a feeling she keeps assuming he’s in our room and is calling out for him. she’s definitely a daddy’s girl, although that’s not a surprise because she has been since she was born.

i’m currently trailing behind her, recording a video. after a few seconds, i scoop her up into my arms and send the video to Trevor.

to: Trev Swift

**video attachment**

she’s been doing this all day. babygirl is looking for her dada!

from: Trev Swift

oh my little duckling! be home in 2 hours

i blow raspberries on her cheek and readjust her on my hip.

“daddy will be home soon! isn’t that exciting?! i’m thinking playpen time until then.” i stop beside the pack n’ play set up in the living room already stocked with a few teething toys and blocks, and set Addy inside. i put some Mickey Mouse on the tv and sit on the couch, grabbing the book i’m currently reading off of the side table.

about 30 minutes later i notice it’s been suspiciously silent and look over to Addy, only to find her napping. i smile at the sight of my sleeping daughter, and go back to reading my book.

before i even realize how much time has passed, i hear the front door opening and a thud hit the ground. Trevor’s home. i bookmark my page and snap my book shut, leaping up from the couch and making my way towards the front of the apartment, meeting Trev in the dining room.

“hi, baby.” his arms snake around my waist and he leans down to plant a kiss on my lips. “where’s Addy?”

“napping. she passed out in the playpen about an hour and a half ago.” i slip my arms around my fiancé’s neck, laying my head on his chest. “how were your trips?”

“eh. they were fine. but i missed my girls.”

we pull back and share one more kiss, this one a little deeper, before the sound of Addy’s cries drifts towards us from the other room.

“you wanna get your daughter? i need a shower.”

“oh so now she’s my daughter?” he laughs as we walk into the living room. a big smile graces his lips and he scoops Addy up and into his arms. “hey babygirl! daddy’s home and he’s not going anywhere any time soon.”

“dada!” Addy shouts and slaps both her tiny palms onto his cheeks, squishing his face.

“yeah, duckling. dada.”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #babydollmarauders #faithlynn’s writings <3 #nhl fic #nhl imagine #anaheim ducks

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goldenlinixx · 4 months

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future!harry / dad!harry x taylorrussell

The trophies are not the most valuable thing in my life, my love xx

"mummy mummy mummy what are those trophies in daddy's room?" taylor is in the middle of preparing lunch when the loud footsteps and completely excited voice of her almost four-year-old daughter light up the house styles. no sooner has tay turned round to look at her little girl than the exact same green eyes as her husband's are looking at her. "my angel, what are you doing in daddy's working place?" "i was looking for rooti" "oh my angel, you know that root has her place here in the living room. that's where she’s lying: look". there lies the little family dog, who has now reached old age, asleep in her basket, completely unaware that her „sister" is excitedly running around the house looking for her. tay lovingly strokes the curls from her daughter's face. taylor loves to answer the questions from her little one. it was only a matter of time before she discovered the "trophies", as she affectionately calls them.

„the „trophies" is the most valuable thing your dad owns. it's a so-called grammy, my little sunshine." "a grammy?" "yes exactly, a grammy … daddy and i told you that he makes a lot of people in the world happy with his songs, right? and you know my love... a grammy is the most valuable thing a music artist like daddy can ever get in his life and career." "so daddy is a superstar?" "yes my little peanut, you could say that ... daddy is a superstar" taylor can't help but smile and place a loving kiss on her little daughter's hairline. they have just finished their intimate moment when they hear the front door slam shut. "i think daddy's back from his jog" as soon as taylor has finished her sentence, the little one is already walking quickly towards the front door. "daddyyy you're a superstar" harry can just about put his airpods down on the cupboard before his three-year-old daughter jumps into his arms. "hello my little darling." this really is the best thing for harry. he has never wanted anything more than to be almost run over by his own little daughter after a strenuous run. "now tell me again peach ... what am i? a superstar?"

harry's little daughter hugs him close. "yes, i was looking for rooti and then i looked in your room and then i saw your trophies and mummy told me that they are grammys." in the meantime, taylor has also found her way to her two favourite people. first and foremost, of course, to say hello to her husband. this morning they hadn't seen each other because he had left early for his long sunday run. she only caught a loving kiss on her sleep while she was still half asleep.

"our little angel was very excited. i told her that her daddy makes a lot of people in the world happy with his music and got his grammys for it." smiling, harry can't help but go up to his beloved taylor and pull her tightly into a hug and a long, deep kiss. of course, he holds their daughter tightly in his other arm. "oh so that's how it is. a hello to you too my darling" "hi babe" the intimate kiss between the two is quickly interrupted by their sweet little daughter. "and mummy told me that it is the most valuable thing you own" harry carefully sets his daughter down on the floor. that he can communicate with her at the same level, he squats down lovingly next to her.

"mummy's not quite right. you know, my love, the trophies, the grammys, are not the most valuable thing in my life that i own. musically speaking, yes, but in a personal way, you are the most valuable thing in my life. you, your mum and your sister in mummy's belly. you know, my peach ..music was the most important part of my life for a long time and it still is to some extent. but when i met your mummy, love took centre stage and i wanted other things in life. i wanted you, for example ... but now i mainly write music or songs because i'm happy. and i'm happy because i have you. you are the most important and therefore the most valuable thing in my life. so love you to the moon and back." in support of his loving explanation, harry gives his little daughter a loving kiss on the head, who then presses herself very close to her dad.

"you said that so beautifully, h. we love you so much too" in support of her statement, taylor can't help but caress her baby bump, which has grown quite a bit in the meantime. harry notices this too and immediately puts his hand on his wife's bump as well.

in that moment he realises once again that his music will never make him as happy as his own little family does. his success can never reach the value that being a dad does. he will be forever grateful that he spent that one month in los angeles and met taylor, the love of his life.

harry and taylor can't wait to show their daughter all the photos and videos taken at the grammy awards that night as a bedtime story. harry has wished for nothing more in life than to be able to show his own children these photos one day. that moment has now arrived and he could never be happier.

—————————————————————-

i really love harry and taylor so much and can't help but write down my thoughts and sweet imaginations that keep buzzing around in my head.

i hope you enjoyed it!

xx Celine

#harrystyles #tayrry #couple #taylorrussell #dad!harry styles #dadrry #dad!harry #dad harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot

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emoprincey · 8 months

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Roman Needs a Nice Day (Prinxiety)

Summary: What if Roman's nice day went a little differently?

Pairings: Prinxiety

Characters: Virgil, Roman, Remy

Also posted on my ao3: stormofstarlight

Writing taglist: @iclaimedtobethebetterbard

Roman was upset. Anyone could tell. He wasn’t crying – at least in front of the other sides – but he’d been stomping around the mindscape in his high-heeled boots, and wrenching the kitchen cupboards open so forcefully when he went to get a snack that he’d pulled a door off its hinges. When the songs he belted from his room so loudly that even Virgil could hear them through his noise cancelling headphones morphed from Some Day My Prince Will Come and Go The Distance, to Words Fail and Breathe, Virgil knew he had to do something.

Patton seemed to have some success giving Logan a nice day with those notecards – at least once he calmed down a bit – so Virgil figured it would be worth a shot.

Getting Roman to listen to some of his favourite songs again seemed like a solid idea to start with. That might rejuvenate some of his old spark. Once Upon A Dream was an obvious classic, and Virgil knew, one of Roman’s all-time favourites, so he wrote that on the first card. On the second card, he wrote down another song he was sure Roman would appreciate. He’d heard Billy Joel songs being blasted in Roman’s room often enough, and Fall Out Boy had recently released a cover of We Didn’t Start The Fire that Virgil had been dying to show to the other sides.

Virgil ambushed Roman just as he was coming out of the bathroom, and shoved the notecards into his face. When Roman picked the first card, Virgil grinned and dragged him downstairs to listen to the version from one of his favourite films.

“Is this from Maleficent?” Roman asked.

“Yep, it’s the best version,” Virgil said.

Roman chuckled. “Of course you’d say that, emo.”

“Shut up and pick another card,” Virgil said, holding another two out to him. He’d stuck with the Disney theme for one of them. In his 3AM travels down YouTube rabbit-holes, Virgil had seen a few creepypastas he was sure Roman would enjoy. Or, at least, he’d enjoy watching Roman react to them.

But Roman ended up taking the other card. “Get some Starbucks,” he read out, sounding pleased.

Virgil smirked. He knew that one would go down well. If there was one thing Roman loved to do, it was pamper himself, and Virgil knew he liked overpriced iced coffee as much as the next side. Besides, Virgil couldn’t deny that spending the afternoon getting coffee with Roman would be nice. Ugh, that almost sounded sappy. Gross.

“Come on, let’s go!” Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand, and Virgil’s stomach swooped as he sunk them both out to his realm.

“Woah. Still not used to rising up,” Virgil said, clinging to Roman’s shoulder to steady himself when they rose up. Then he looked around himself. The Starbucks in the Imagination was filled with characters the twins had created through the years, though Virgil didn’t recognise many of them. Unfortunately, the barista behind the counter was someone he knew very well.

“Go grab us a table, I’ll get the coffee,” Virgil said. This is Roman’s nice day, this is Roman’s nice day, he reminded himself as he approached the counter.

He noticed the exact moment Remy clocked him. The usually aloof barista froze, holding a dishcloth in one hand and a perfectly polished glass in the other. His expression hardened, and Virgil was sure he was glaring behind his dark sunglasses.

“You’ve got some nerve showing up here, Anxiety,” Remy said, putting the glass down and slinging the cloth over his shoulder.

Of course. Anxiety was the natural enemy of Sleep.

“Look, I’m just trying to give Roman a nice day,” Virgil huffed, gesturing over to the prince, who’d just found a table. Roman waved back cheerily, clearly thinking they were having a pleasant chat. “Can we give this a rest for one afternoon?”

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m always perfectly polite to you,” Remy said. “Now, get out of my fucking shop before I kick you out, okay? Bye.”

“Remy!” Virgil snapped, trying to keep his tone under control. “This is for Ro. Please.”

Remy pushed his sunglasses down his nose, looking at Virgil over the top of them. “Wow, Anxiety using manners for once? You must really be down bad for him.”

Virgil hissed, but he didn’t bother denying it.

Remy gave him a look that bordered on sympathetic, but came across more condescending than anything. “He still oblivious as ever?”

Virgil finally relented, sitting down on one of the barstools. “Tell me about it. Honestly, I don’t think I really have a chance with him.”

Remy sighed, pushing his sunglasses back up. “Listen, hun. You hate me, I hate you, we’ve had this whole bitter enemies thing going on for a while. But let me give you some advice. Sometimes you’ve just gotta take a chance, you know? You won’t get anywhere in life by doubting every move you make. I know – it’s your job. But you need to give yourself some credit. You and Roman, you’ve been through a lot, I’m sure whatever happens, things will work out for you two or whatever.”

Remy waved a dismissive hand as he pushed two iced coffees across the counter to Virgil. He knew all of the sides’ regular orders by now.

“On the house,” he said, when Virgil reached for his wallet. “Go get him, girl.”

“Thanks, Remy.”

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Remy said. “No, actually do. If people find out I have a soft side they might start asking for things.”

“Sure,” Virgil chuckled.

When he got back to the table, Roman reached for the drink with both hands, and took a long sip through the straw.

“What, don’t I even get a ‘thank-you’?” Virgil said.

Roman put down his cup. “Thanks for doing this, Virge. Really. I think I really needed an afternoon off.”

“Oh, uh... no problem, I guess,” Virgil mumbled. Roman was looking at him with such earnest eyes that he had to look away, focusing on the logo printed on one of the napkins – it was just like the regular Starbucks logo, except that the mermaid was wearing sunglasses. “Anyway, pick one of these for when you’ve finished your drink.”

He shoved another two slips of paper towards Roman.

Roman looked surprised, but he took one of the pieces.

“Ooh!” He exclaimed when he looked at it. “Stab stuff with your sword. Oh, I can work with this.”

-----

When they’d finished their coffees, Roman took Virgil’s hand again, and this time there was nothing he could attribute the fluttering in his stomach to other than Roman’s dazzling smile.

“Come on, I’ve got a great place in mind,” Roman said, and he pulled Virgil through the doors of the Starbucks out into the street. Roman waved his hand, and across the empty road another building popped into existence.

“After you,” he said, holding open the door for Virgil.

Inside was a giant room about as big as a warehouse, and it was absolutely filled with things. Pillows and mattresses littered the floor, while crockery, vases and even computers were stacked up on tables. It all looked old and already battered – the computer screens were cracked, and any fabric was faded or torn. It wasn’t an unfamiliar location; Remus had created countless rage rooms in the Imagination when one of the others was upset and needed a way to vent their feelings, but Virgil didn’t think bringing Roman’s brother up would be the best decision at the moment. Still, it was impressive for Roman to conjure all this in just a few seconds.

“Did you just... create all of this?” Virgil asked in wonder as Roman shut the door behind them.

Roman shrugged. “Yeah, I mean... I just kind of imagined it and, well, you know how it works.”

“You know, sometimes you’re kind of incredible,” Virgil mused, still looking around the room.

“Really?” Roman asked. His voice was... smaller than Virgil expected.

“Yeah of course,” Virgil said, “you create so many awesome things.”

“Well, it’s kind of my job,” Roman said, but he was beaming. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Anyway. We can’t technically get injured by anything in the Imagination, but I know you’re a stickler for this kind of stuff, so...”

Roman snapped his fingers, and suddenly the two of them were wearing protective suits over their regular clothes, with safety glasses covering their eyes. Then he drew his sword.

“And don’t forget the most important bit,” Roman said. He waved his hand, and a battle axe with a purple handle appeared in his grip.

“Wait, you want me to join in too?” Virgil asked incredulously.

“Of course!” Roman grinned. “It’ll be fun to do this together.”

“Alright,” Virgil said, taking hold of the axe. It felt right in his grip, like it was made for him. Well, obviously it was, but something about it felt natural, like he’d been wielding it his entire life. “Let’s do this.”

----

After an afternoon of smashing shit up, Virgil and Roman lay on their backs in the middle of the rage room. The floor was covered in debris, stuffing and down, and Virgil had never felt so satisfied.

“So, you got any more fun things planned for today, emo?” Roman turned his head towards Virgil, his cheeks flushed, and eyes wide with elation.

Virgil took a moment to remember how to speak. Those were all the cards he’d written, but...

Remy’s voice echoed in his ear. Sometimes you’ve gotta take a chance.

If he was taking advice from Remy, he must really be desperate, but before he could chicken out Virgil summoned a pen and two more slips of paper.

“Yeah actually, just give me a second.” He stared down at the paper, wondering if this was a good idea. It was a big step, and there was half a chance Roman wouldn’t even pick the card Virgil was hoping for. Maybe it would be better if he didn’t. But Virgil was taking a chance. He could do this. He hastily scribbled down two options on the cards, and held them out to Roman.

He kept his eyes fixed on the floor as Roman took one.

“Ask crush out for drinks,” Roman read aloud, and Virgil’s breath hitched. This was too real. Roman had picked the card, and Virgil couldn’t back out now. Or maybe he could. He could snatch it back and say he hadn’t meant to write that. He’d eat the paper if he had to.

But before he could do any of that, Roman’s face broke into a grin.

“Virgil, this is wonderful!” Roman exclaimed.

“It is?” Virgil asked, hearing how short of breath he was.

“Of course! I knew you’d come around and help out Thomas’ romantic life eventually,” Roman said.

Wait, Thomas?

“I’ll get him to ask Nico out for drinks, and I’ll tell him it was your idea!” Roman was practically glowing, in his element, and Virgil felt like kicking himself.

Of course the only crush in Roman’s mind right now would be Nico, after the two of them had helped set Thomas up with him at the mall.

Roman snapped his fingers to clear away his protective clothing, and smoothed out his crumpled prince outfit. “Oh, Thomas...” he sang as he sank out, leaving Virgil alone in the rage room.

Well. That had been a disaster.

----

Over the next few days, Virgil didn’t see much of Roman. Apparently he’d pitched the idea to Thomas, and it had been a great success. Thomas had taken Nico out for drinks at a bar he liked, and it had gone really well. Virgil might even have enjoyed the night, if he hadn’t spent the whole time holed up in his room, only responding remotely to Thomas’ biggest spikes of anxiety.

He shouldn’t be so broken up about this. It wasn’t like this was a rejection, Roman had just misunderstood. And maybe this was better than if he had figured out what Virgil really meant. If Roman had gone running off to Logan or Patton or – God forbid – Janus, Virgil didn’t know how he would have coped.

But, however irrational it was, Virgil felt like shit. He didn’t leave his room other than to grab a few packets of pop tarts from the kitchen, and he spent pretty much the whole time watching conspiracy videos on YouTube.

On the third day of his self-imposed isolation, there was a knock on his door.

That wasn’t surprising. The other sides did usually check on him when he stayed in his room for a while, but with Thomas’ date on top of everything else, they’d all been too busy so far.

Virgil paused the video he was watching, reluctantly dragged himself over to the door, and opened it.

“Roman?”

For some reason, Virgil hadn’t been expecting Roman to be standing outside his room. Patton and Logan were usually the ones who checked up on his wellbeing, and Virgil was suddenly very aware of just how unbrushed his hair was.

But Roman’s expression softened when he saw Virgil. “Hey, Virge. You doing alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve just been taking a few days to myself. What’s up?” Virgil asked, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down as subtly as he could.

“Well, since you designed such a nice day for me, I thought I’d do one for you too,” Roman said, producing two notecards with a flourish.

Oh. That was... nice of him. Virgil hadn’t been expecting anything in return, but it was nice that Roman thought of him.

He looked between the two card for a moment, before he picked the one on the left.

He read Roman’s red cursive. Then read it again. Then rubbed his eyes, and read it one more time to make sure he hadn’t got it wrong.

Go on a date with me.

“Wha- what it this?” Virgil gasped, snatching up the other card. It said the same thing. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Roman said with a smirk. “I’m asking my crush out for drinks.”

“Wait, you- I’m- What?” Virgil asked again. This was not real. He was dreaming. That was the only explanation.

“When I told Thomas about how you’d actually given me the idea, he, um... suggested you might’ve meant it a different way,” Roman explained, now looking a little sheepish. “Did you mean it this way?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, steeling his courage. “Yeah, I did. I just didn’t think you’d ever-”

“Ever want to date the hottest, coolest side in the mindscape?” Roman supplied.

“You– I need to be more awake for this conversation,” Virgil decided.

“Well, how about we continue it this evening. Say, over dinner?” Roman asked, unable to hide his grin.

“Sounds good,” Virgil said, grinning back.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #prinxiety #remy sleep #remy sanders #ts remy

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theplanetofthesnapes · 2 years

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Embarrassment at Spinner’s End

Request: I know it’s along the same lines as your other one but could you possibly do one where you are in a relationship with Snape and you’re on your period and you accidentally leak on the bed.

Trigger warning: talks of periods and menstruation and blood.

I wake up and feel that familiar ache in my stomach that tells me my period is here. Oh great I thought, I get ready to get up and go to the bathroom before it can really get going but then I feel the wetness underneath me “oh shit” I mutter. I quietly grab my wand from the nightstand trying as hard as possible not to disturb Severus but too late he’s already noticed my shuffling and began sitting up. I inwardly groan.

“Lumos” I hear as a faint light shines from his wand. ”What’s a matter y/n?” he asks softly. It always surprises me how perceptive he is, anyone else would have thought I was just moving about to get comfortable but somehow he just knows there’s something up. The thing is I never did perfect silent spells so I can’t really just clear up my mess without him noticing me muttering the spell under my breath. I also have no idea how he’s going to react, in the 6 months we’ve been seeing each other we’ve never really talked about my monthly visitor. We’ve both been busy and it’s never ended up coinciding with the time we’ve spent together.

I take a deep breath it, screw it I might as well tell the truth I mean I don’t think I can come up with a convincing lie at this point I’m still half asleep. Also I really do need to get to the bathroom to sort myself out. “Nothing really, it’s kind of embarrassing… I umm kinda started my period in my sleep and I leaked a bit on the bed. I’m really sorry I was just about to clean it up. I hope you’re not upset.” I rambled.

“Upset?! Why would I be upset it’s perfectly natural. I’m a teacher for god sake a head of house at that, I’ve had to deal with many a menstruating student. My girlfriend’s period is nothing to get upset over. Allow me” he quickly wordlessly cleans up the mess on the bed with his wand. “Do you need me to get you anything? Do you have supplies with you?”

“Oh crap” I realise no I didn’t. We were at his house and Mother Nature had decided to surprise me a few days early. “Do you think a muggle supermarket might be open this late?” I looked at the clock it was 3:15 in the morning.

“I mean probably not it’s a Sunday, but I do have some emergency supplies for you in the bathroom cupboard just incase this were to happen one day. They might not be the exact brands you use but there’s some tampons and pads, I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer so I got both. I figured it didn’t matter in an emergency so much. I can go out once the shops open in the morning for you however and get your preferred kind.” He says soothingly.

“You have things for me? We’ve never even talked about my period before, how long have you had them?” I was taken aback by the sweetness of this gesture.

“Since you first started staying here, I also have some pain potion readily brewed incase you have any pain associated with your period. Now why don’t you get to the bathroom before we need to clean up another mess.” He says looking concerned.

I blush and go red in embarrassment again in the glow of his still lit wand I know he can tell. “Oh yeah I should…” I trail off and get up trying to face away from him so he won’t be able to see the mess on the shorts I slept in.

“You don’t need to hide from me Y/n I’m not going to be scared off by the sight of a little blood. Do you need me to get you that potion? Or are you okay for now?” He chuckles softly at my attempt at walking backwards.

“Yeah the potion would be good thank you, my stomach hurts a little” I reply sheepishly then bolt to the bathroom. Once in there I check the cupboard and like he promised the two packages are in there, I pick up the box of tampons and notice a note I grab it and read it.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to use these emergency supplies, I do not envy you women for what you have to go through. I hope you’re feeling okay and just remember I love you. Yours Sev” My heart melts a little at the words and I feel a tear trickle down my face. I quickly wipe it away, damn hormones making me all sappy. I then quickly sort myself out and take my shorts off and underwear off and putting on the spare pair of underwear I took to the bathroom with me but not knowing what to do about the shorts. I put the dirty clothes in the laundry and then hear a light rap at the bathroom door.

“Sorry to disturb you but I have left a black shirt outside the door if you wanted to wear that to bed for the rest of the night. It should be long enough on you that you won’t be too indecent but I don’t have anything else that would be suitable and I assume you don’t want to put your jeans back on to sleep in.” Severus says slightly muffled by the door. This man really does think of everything.

“Thank you, the shirt would be perfect thank you, I don’t have anything else.” I reply gratefully.

“I’ll see you back in bed” he states as I hear him leave. God damn it I’m crying again. Does he really have to be this sweet to me? People always warned me away from Severus when we first started seeing each other. They told me he’s cold and he won’t care about me, he’ll only want one thing. But I never once saw the person that they were describing I saw a kind, passionate man who will stop at nothing to protect the people he cares about the most. I mean just look at how he takes care of Harry and no one even notices all because of how much he cared for Lily.

I get changed and exit the bathroom and make my way over to the bed lighting the way with my wand. I notice a blue concoction on the nightstand and I pick it up “is this the pain potion?” I ask hopefully, my stomach was really starting to bother me now.

“Yes, oh y/n have you been crying?” he looks concerned again. “If it’s because you’re embarrassed please know there’s nothing to be ashamed about, it’s only me. Please I hate to see you embarrassed in front of me, all I want is to see you comfortable and happy.”

I quickly drink down the potion ignoring the bitter taste and feeling relieved by the instantaneous warmth that spreads the pain doesn’t vanish completely but it fades to a dull ache. “No it’s not that,” I say reassuringly. “ I mean I am still embarrassed I can’t help that but that’s not why I was crying, I’m just hormonal and all of your sweet gestures just got me a little overwhelmed that’s all. I’m not used to someone caring about me this much. I am so in love with you my grumpy old man” I sniff a little at that doing my best to try not to well up again.

He laughs “Enough of the grumpy old man please, I am only 38 not exactly a pensioner yet. My darling you are my world, I could never bear to see you in any kind of discomfort. I love you with all my heart.”

“Okay okay please stop being so cute or I’ll start crying again” I say as I get into bed and cuddle into him.

He kisses the top of my head and hugs me tightly back. “We wouldn’t want that now would we. How’s the pain now?.”

“A lot better, still there but I think I will be able to fall asleep easier now. Thank you Severus for everything.” I reply. I think he says something back but I’m already drifting off.

The next day he surprised me with breakfast in bed and we watched my favourite muggle films on his seemingly ancient television set. Honestly wizards really need to get with the times, I think the technology doesn’t work around magic is a load of rubbish and wizards just don’t want to think muggles have the capability of making useful inventions without magic. I’m so grateful to be muggleborn so I can have the best of both worlds.

I was really dreading having to deal with my period for the first time around Sev but I know now there was never anything to worry about. He will always be there to take care of me, I know that now. I don’t think I could be more in love with this man if I tried.

#harry potter #imagine #hogwarts #severus snape #slytherin #snape x you #snape x reader #snape fluff #period #period cramps #menstrual cramps #menstration #comfort

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teamfortresstwo · 1 year

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He has no idea how much time has passed. Things like that are hard to keep track of here. Here, without weeks, months or days. Without any calendars. Not that it matters of course, because however much it was, it was not enough. No, it was not enough for this, not enough time passed for him to reach into the cupboards and pull out two mugs. Two, exact same ones, as the broken ones in the bag in the corner.

And, just then he notices, the bag is gone. He patiently waits for the kettle to boil, and as he does so he reaches over for the tea, his hands land on a plain box, labeled chamomile. And as if he is coming clean about the things he felt under every other pretense and lie, and he might as well be coming clean about them, he puts the chamomile tea into the mugs, those same mugs, and he pours the boiling water over the tea.

His hands go to his face and he holds them there for a moment, maybe two, maybe even more. All he knows is by the time he puts his hands down, his tea isn't hot anymore and the light shining through the window is dim and rosey. The man reaches out, drawing the curtains closed and heads to his seat in the darkness. He drops in, and stares into the shattered TV in front of him.

"At least that." He thinks as he leans back into the chair. "At least that." He thinks, noticing not the book on the table, or the way his free hand trailed to his neck, fidgeting with the ring that was there.

"At least that." He thinks, and chuckles, a low, rumbling sound at the bottom of his chest, and he doesn't chuckle because he finds something funny, he chuckles and he doesn't know why, but maybe it's all he can do to stop it from turning into tears. So he chuckles.

The older man, carefully finishes his tea, impatient to get to bed, and he stands up, rushing to the room he sleeps in these days. It is cold. He glances at the mirror, with cracks running down it. He needs to shave. And he gets into bed, underneath the cold, heartless sheets, and he doesn't care.

"It won't be this cold, not when he arrives."

(I hate this one so much but oh well the show must go on)

Oh my god!! How did I miss the rage metaphor in the mugs? They were smashed because of Peter’s rage so of course now they’re gone, he’s no longer angry- although I feel as though he almost wants to be.

Peter is always characterized as being fond of routines and I’m glad to see thats true for this fic as well! Just the idea that he falls into routines as an excuse to get close/used to someone while still having plausible deniability is so beloved to me <333 (and rather in character if his gambling is to be believed.)

(I remember thinking the mugs were symbolic of elias earlier on, if so that “two mugs maybe even more” really reminds me of his bodies again. How lonely it must be to have been known for so long in your life time yet only have known your lover for a fraction of theirs.)

AUGHHHHHHHHH- ohhh this is so good!! The repetition!!! Why the “at least that”? If I was a guessing man, I’d say that without calendars Peter has been a little bit… bad at keeping track of days and feeling like he’s actually existing instead of just inhabiting a world he can’t interact with. The tv reminds him that he can, but it is also something he probably regrets as he now has no distractions- and maybe the reminder that he needs to be distracted in the first place, that he really and truly does miss elias is what hits him at that moment? I’m not too sure, it’s a wonderfully well written scene though!! Again the melancholy vibes rolls off this fic in WAVES!!

And, I like how this fic isn’t so much about peter grieving elias-well it is, but it’s more like him fighting off his own grief. He’s not angry at Elias, I don’t think so at least, I think he always knew it would happen the way it did and being sacrificed for someone else is so… lonely. But, he’s angry at himself for not being able to keep being detatched. He can’t accept that he misses elias. And he is trying so hard to not be effected.

He’s failing but y’know <333

Oh! And in the last line, Peter admits to missing Elias. But, in doing so, he also stops himself from examining his grief, stops himself from allowing him to grieve. Because wanting to share a bed with elias can be written off, he’s written it off for decades now at least. But really and truly mourning his loss- it’s a step too far. A connection to strong for peter to acknowledge. And so he chuckles, and he doesn’t care, and he pretends not to notice how all the cracks in his house are because of his overwhelming longing-

No. He’s fine. And Elias will come back- and he’s not sentimental. He just- likes. a. good. routine.

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the-archangel · 1 year

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V’s diary Part 4

Also featuring Kerry’s begrudging attempt at a diary Part 1

V, typing:

A lot has happened this week, some bad, mostly good I guess.

My name is getting around, clients are asking for me and contracts are building up and paying more which is preem. On the other hand, I broke my ankle, which is gonk. Obviously, Vik mostly sorted it, but said it shouldn’t have been able to happen in the first place and is another sign – in case I’d forgotten along the way – that all is not well. Almost worse than all that (almost), is that I broke it tripping over the cat in the dark. It was fine, but I’d be limping for a few days yet.

I’ve been staying over at Kerry’s pretty regularly for months now, I couldn’t get rid of the apartment completely, I need my space sometimes, but there’s no denying that Kerry’s place is a step up, so seeing how my leg was giving me problems, Ker suggested I move some of my stuff in and sort of, set up there, where he could look after me. He emptied a cupboard for my stash, and a wardrobe for my gear (though he said he nearly changed his mind when he saw it) and came to the apartment with Del to help me shift it.

That was 3 days ago, the boxes of my stuff are over there, next to the exercise equipment, untouched and unloved because this raging nympho on top of me won’t let me out of the bed......

“Heh, that’s right. I’ve got you now baby, there’s no escape! Is this that diary thing you were talking about? Shit you want to remember?”

“Yep, you should have a go, write down things that you want me to remember.”

“I dunno, I do all my writing in my songs, there’s nothing left after that.”

“Please Ker, I’ll let you do that thing again...”

Kerry’s Diary

I don’t know how this is supposed to work, sounds dumb talking to a diary, but V said it’s made him feel better and that’s all I want in the world so here it goes.

V came into my life at the exact moment that I needed him to, I knew he was special the first time we spoke, I knew I needed him the first time we kissed and I knew I loved him waking up in his arms the morning after the pool picnic and looking into his fucking beautiful green eyes....

“Shit V, this is hard.”

“Good, bring it over and I’ll deal with that for you.”

“..........!”

I love that his puppy-like enthusiasm for things he’s never done before awakens something in this ol’ dog, some of the things aren’t even sex related, like when he tried synth-caviar for the first time, wolfed it down and gagged it straight back up into the pool. I love his determination to see things through to the end. I love that he knows what he knows and doesn’t pretend otherwise. I love that at the end of the day, this is where he comes back to, leaving the day on the doorstep and filling the house with laughter and light.

“Aw, Ker. Thank you. I love you, you know.”

“I know. But can I stop now? I’m feeling like a tortured artist.”

“Course. Though you don’t usually complain about a bit of torture...”

*******

Reasons I love Kerry:

His face when he’s sleeping.

His enthusiasm for life and for sharing the best bits with me.

The way he can’t hide what he’s thinking because his fucking amazing eyes give it away every time.

His hair.

The craft and energy he puts into his work.

His smile.

How he always throws his pillow across the room when he can’t sleep.

How passionate he is about everything – no feeling is wasted.

The way being drunk makes him horny, then sleepy, then horny again.

His ass.

The way he’ll quietly strum guitar for me when I’m not feeling well to help me sleep.

“Christ V, why don’t you just marry him already.”

“Hey Johnny, wondered when you’d be back.”

“Well since you keep sending me to engram limbo, I should probably make the most of this while I can.”

“I’m sorry Johnny, we just needed some time to get to know each other without someone looking over our shoulders all the time. You understand right?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Carry on with your stupid list, I’m fascinated that you haven’t mentioned the thing he’s most proud of yet.”

His freckles, I really love ‘em, cute as.

The way he tried to cook breakfast once, but the hibachi caught fire from the fat and scared him so he dumped it in the pool and now he brings me a coffee in the morning instead even though I don’t really like it cuz he says it’s the best and I will love it eventually if I give it a chance.

The way he looks into my eyes when he speaks.

That his favourite music to have sex to is his own – especially his version of Chippin’ In.

His voice, he only needs to say “Hey V” and I’m at half-mast.

He lets me borrow his shirts, even though they’re tight on me and end up ruined; he says it’s worth it. (Never lets me borrow his pants though, weird.)

His dick and the amazing things he can do with it.

“Bingo! And there it is!”

“What? You jealous?”

“Fuck off V.”

So my ankle’s feeling better, been running on the ‘mill and going back to H10 to do some boxing training in between gigs. Coach Fred, says that I could maybe make some eddies at it if I put in the work, worth thinking about for sure. Gonna delta down to Kabuki to check out the competition in the morning. Kerry’s not too happy, says that it’s bad enough that we’re all over the screamsheets already without it looking like he’s knocking me about. I told him that I’d try not to get hit in the face, but anywhere else there were bruises he could kiss them better, he seemed OK with that.

***************

Round 1 – Kabuki – Well that was fucking weird. There were these twins, I think, I dunno. They talked a lot of confusing gonk shit anyway so I just punched ‘em until they shut up.

Round 2 – Rancho Coronado – This was more like it. A straight up fist-fight against a jacked-up opponent. It was in a gym run by Animals against this massive unit called Rhino. She really gave as good as she got, and was pretty gracious when I floored her with a left-handed upper-cut.

So far, so good!

Round 3 – The Glen – Ok, another weird one. This guy, Cesar, his wife’s about to give birth and is begging him not to do it, but he doesn’t back down – even puts his car up as a stake – turns out he’s shit, one punch and he’s down. Took the cash and the car and then felt bad, gave ‘em the cash back and drove away.

“Why d’you take the car? You already have like, 15 cars and 3 bikes, why did you need the poor gonk’s car?”

“Well Johnny, what can I say, I just really like cars.”

Round 4 – Arroyo – Didn’t feel bad for one second about punching this fuckers lights out. Put his gun up as part of the deal, sweet, then, even after I’d floored him with an impressive right-hook to the temple, refused to hand it over. It got real messy, real fast with his friends wanting in on the action too, dropped a few with some ‘hacks, introduces a few to Archangel, right in the head, but saved Ol’ Buck for last and punched him until I heard his skull crack. It’s a nice gun, I’ll enjoy fixing it up some.

“That was a side of you I hadn’t seen before, I liked it, takes a lot to get you mad.”

“Mhm, anger is wasted energy Misty says, fucker deserved it though.”

The final is a couple of days away, can’t wait to get home and tell Kerry all about it. We do like to work out together, maybe I could introduce him to a bit of sparring?

***************

Ok, so when I got home Kerry was not amused by the state I was in, and despite my promise, my lip was busted and a bruise was darkening on my cheek, that’s not to mention my stomach and chest which by now were just one, joined-up yellow and purple mess.

After he sat me down and told me how dumb this whole thing had been, whilst he paced the room and occasionally shouted in my face, he pushed me into the shower and leaned in the doorway, still complaining, while I got undressed and stepped into the cubicle. I thought maybe he was going to join me, but he just stood there looking sad and shaking his head as each new bruise was revealed under the water and the glare from the bathroom light. Turning off the shower, I was braced for another earful, but he held the soft, grey towel open for me to step into and wrapped me in it, holding me there with his face in my neck. It was nice, better than the shouting for sure, but I realised his shoulder’s were gently shaking as he held me, and as I nuzzled his face to see into his eyes, there were tears.

“Christ V, I’m just worried about you is all. Whenever you leave the house I never know what state you’re coming back in, and the thought of you being punched in the face – choosing to be punched in the face – is too much.”

“Shit Ker, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you felt that way. One last bout, the day after tomorrow, then that’s it. Promise. OK?”

“I guess.”

His sad, steady gaze into my soul as he says this is overwhelming, a sob catches in my throat and I lift him with both arms, sweeping him out of the bathroom and bouncing him down on the bed. We kiss, gently, tenderly and I snuggle into him, nuzzling his neck and beard, using the towel to cover us both. We wake with the sun, still wrapped in the towel and in each other’s arms.

********************

It’s the day of the final. I’ve tried to persuade Kerry to come, thought he might worry less, but he’s refused – that’s OK, I get it. Vik said he’ll come along though, he loves a good match so let’s hope I don’t let him down....

“How about the effect that all this is having on me?”

“Like what Johnny?”

“It’s not just your head that get’s rattled, it’s mine too. I get all the headaches without any of the fun of a fight first.”

“So how about I let you fight this ‘Razor’ dude in the final, show me what you’re made of?”

“......I’m more of a scrapper than a technical boxer, I’ll channel some angry energy your way.”

“Sheesh, thanks.”

****

I knew the Grand Imperial Mall from a job I did there a few months ago, but either missed the part with a huge boxing ring in it, or else it had been set up in between times. Either way, I was glad to see Vik, he was all over Razor’s stats and knew his weak points, ‘jabs to the abs’ was the catchphrase of the day. Razor looked more cyborg than human, reminded me of Johnny’s memories I’d seen of Adam Smasher, and that’s someone I definitely wouldn’t want a one-on-one with. This is the first fight that I’d been nervous for; it wasn’t helped by Coach Fred implying I had no chance anyway and offering Eddies to throw the fight. No way! Let me at the fucker.

Razor got a couple of punches in early on, but really didn’t like a tickle in the ribs with a boxing glove. He was getting weaker with each of my carefully directed jabs, disorientated even, as his punches failed to connect. He didn’t want to go down, but in the end I didn’t give him a choice. Bout to V. Place in the hall of fame guaranteed.

Chatted with the crowds for a bit, searched for Vik, thought we could have a drink and I’d cadge a lift, but couldn’t find him. Stepped outside into the sunshine, sat on the steps and lit up a cig as requested by the head terrorist only to have it snatched from my fingers by an adorable vision in leather.

“Kerry!” I jumped up and hugged him hard. “What are you doing here?”

He pulled hard on the cig, “Vik persuaded me to come, said you were good – really good and it’d be a shame to miss it.”

“But, you weren’t there. I’d have seen you.”

“No, Vik set up a live stream on the holo, I was watching in the car.”

“What did you think?” I asked, nervous to know the answer.

“Well, those first couple of hits he had on you nearly had me shutting it down and driving home...but then when you had the upper hand...it was kinda hot.” He admitted, before stamping out the cigarette and pulling me up from the steps. “C’mon, I’ve got plans for you back at home....”

#kerry eurodyne x male v #cyberpunk kerry #kerry eurodyne #kerry x male v #v cyberpunk #johnny silverhand

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nyaitsu-writes · 2 years

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hi hiiii!!! I'd like to request some headcanons for rei with a short and shy s/o!!

i am once again promoting my rei sakuma needs to hold his s/o all the time agenda <3 but aaaa this is such a cute concept,, the vibes, absolutely immaculate ♪(´▽｀) i hope you like this nonnie!! i really hope i did it some justice because i had,, many many thoughts

✧ rei | with a short and shy s/o ✧

✦ height difference my beloved,, also rei’s. this man is taking advantage of your short height all the time just to happily wrap his arms around you and pull you in for a hug, knowing that you can't resist (and even if you do, good luck trying to get rei off your shoulders www)

✦ but yeah it totally gets the best of his gentleman side!! he's always offering to reach for that one cup that is a bit too high in the cupboard or that one book that is on the top shelf. he isn't pushy about it because he understands that it will be frustrating for you if people keep picking up things for you but he has a sixth sense for knowing just when you need his help. suddenly, his height is becoming so useful!

✦ gotta say it's a really nice combi, being short and shy and dating vampire overlord rei sakuma. he can order for you at a cafe and people will usually stare a bit because. tall, big and dark ft short, small and shy. just perfect <3 plus wow is he having fun with this. rei has this theory that flustered people are the cutest and he won't hesitate to test out each and every one of your expressions at almost every chance he gets. he's not mean, just curious!!

✦ so yeah he does tease you a bit (a lot) but those are rei sakuma exclusive rights (tm). boyfriend rights if you will (●ˇ∀ˇ●) he won't let anyone else mess with you or else they'll have to face the wrath of an immortal being. which isn't really wrath per se. more like, that one look that makes people freeze in the spot and know that they must stop or else. rei is nice and understandable with everyone but you don't want to get on his bad side!

✦ he loves resting his head on yours while he's wrapped around your back. he finds it soooo cute just how you are the perfect size for him to cuddle. oh cuddling! i think cuddling is his absolutely fav activity ever. and the smaller the place, the better. wanna know why? extreme cuddling. he's gonna hold you and never ever let you go, keeping you close to his chest just as much as he can. so it's even better when he's got an actual excuse to do it!!

✦ on more cuddles, coffin naps! he gets sleepy during the day and you're so comfy... you know how some people can't sleep without their favorite plushie? you're rei’s favorite plushie (❁´◡`❁) <3 he sleeps so still and doesn't move at all but don't you think that you're allowed escape as soon as you think he's asleep. he'll pick you up again, put you in the exact same position and drift off to dreamland once again, not without a bit of sleepy whining about how you will never be able to run away from him. how he'll search through the entire earth back and front just to keep you by his side for eternity and beyond <33 get that together with his sleepy deep voice and i'm saying that's a critical hit

✦ okay okay enough cuddling... you thought i was going to say that! but no! well not exactly like that ehehe he gets a bit overprotective sometimes. surprisingly enough even if rei doesn't like reading that much but he's read his fair share of romance books for the sake of his image (and because he is a sucker for romance but that's,, and entirely different post www). i think he's also into old movies so sometimes he just. randomly picks you up bridal style without so much as breaking a sweat. and he loves it sooo much when you get all blushy and surprised and try to hide your face against his chest. he's living for it. he's enjoying it, this sweet little old man (affectionate) (*´꒳`*)

#ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars headcanons #ensemble stars imagines #enstars x reader #enstars imagines #enstars headcanons #rei sakuma #rei sakuma x reader

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loverhymeswith · 2 years

Text

Enough | Stephen Holder x F!Reader | Four

Pairing: Stephen Holder x Detective!Reader

Summary: Sleeping with your partner means everything changes.

Warnings: Language, smoking, suggestive language, soft Holder!

Word Count: 2,487 words

A/N: Thank you to @yespolkadotkitty for the original prompt and to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading!

Taglist: @reysorigins @heresathreebee @xoxabs88xox @endmeprettyplease

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Early morning sunshine attempts to peek through the thick Seattle clouds as the familiar sight of your apartment building comes into view. For the first time in weeks it isn’t raining. Holder slows the car and glances over at you from the driver’s seat; his eyebrows knit together in concern. “Yo, you sure ‘bout this? Wasn’t jokin’ when I said you could stay.”

“I’ll be fine, honestly.” The way your partner’s lips draw into a thin line and his nostrils flare suggests he doesn’t believe you for a second, but you don’t give him the chance to argue. “It’s a broken arm, Stephen. I can manage. Just drop me off here.”

“A’ight.” He kills the engine, eyes drifting over your face doubtfully as he pulls out a carton of cigarettes. “Want me to come inside?”

“No.” You shake your head quickly, fingers fumbling with the seatbelt release. “You should get to the DA’s office.” Someone needs to be there to ensure the case progresses, and since Holder’s already told you flat out there’s no way you’re going into work today, that someone will have to be him.

“I know. I know.” He waves the hand holding the cigarette, a trail of white smoke curling in its path. “Just - call me if you need anythin’, a’ight?” His gaze travels over your face again, landing on your forehead and the dressing he replaced there less than an hour earlier.

“I will.”

You probably won’t.

Holder lurches forwards at the exact moment you turn your head to open the car door, lips landing clumsily on your cheek and his scruff tickling your skin. You lean into the touch for just a second, before your fingers find purchase on the handle. He slumps back in his seat, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as he watches you climb out the car.

You’re leaving behind not only Holder but also a mountain of unspoken words. There’s a lot you haven’t talked about yet. A lot of things you should probably discuss, like the kissing, the touching, the sex. After the first time, Holder was unwilling to try again. He claimed it was because he didn’t want to hurt you, but you can’t help wondering if he’s still embarrassed. Maybe you should have done more to reassure him, but it’s not exactly your area of expertise and considering your track record, you’d probably just have made things worse. So, instead of acting like adults and actually talking about your feelings, you watched re-runs of old cartoons until he decided it was probably safe for you to sleep.

“Let me know what’s happening with the case”, you tell him through the open window.

He responds with a salute and a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

It soon becomes apparent that telling Holder you would ‘manage’ might have been a stretch.

You manage to change out of yesterday’s clothes and into an old pair of pyjamas, but only because they’re elastic and have no fastenings. You manage to make yourself something to eat, if a slice of almost-stale bread can really be classed as lunch, because you can’t remove the lid from the last can of soup in the cupboard. You manage to ignore the mounting pile of dishes in the sink, collapsing onto the couch instead because your arm is sore, your head is pounding, and your ribs ache.

There’s no one around to judge you, but you’re painfully aware of how pathetic this is and as the day wears on it only gets worse. How are you supposed to spend the next two weeks like this? Stuck at home, alone in front of the television, barely able to feed and dress yourself while the rest of your department tries to keep the streets of Seattle safe. Any relief about nailing the perp yesterday has been replaced by a familiar, clamouring sense of self-doubt. After all, without your job, you are nothing. Maybe you should have insisted that Holder took you to the precinct instead.

Holder.

Just to make matters worse with the case no longer entirely occupying your mind, your thoughts insist on wandering back to Holder. Wandering back not only to the way he touched you, the way he made you fall apart beneath his hands and his mouth, but to an overwhelming fear of the future. You knew last night that your relationship would be irrevocably changed. So, what happens now?

You hold out until late afternoon before calling him, telling yourself it’s because you need an update on the case. With the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you attempt to unscrew a bottle of painkillers, you’re caught off guard when he answers on the first ring.

“Yo, everythin’ ok?” You can hear the concern in his voice. Has he been waiting for you to call all this time?

“I’m fine.” You fiddle with the bottle, holding it against your chest with your uninjured arm while trying to twist the lid with your fingers. “How did it go with the DA?”

“It’s under control.”

“What are they charging him with?” Your heart is hammering away as you wait for Holder’s response. ‘Under control’ could mean anything.

“First degree murder. Seven counts.”

You slump against the kitchen counter, pausing your efforts with the pills. It’s a better outcome than you could have hoped for, but the sense of relief is slow to follow.

“Ay, you still there?”

“Y-yeah. I’m here.” It’s not over, not by a long shot - there will be a trial and sentencing - but your work on the case is done; the boxes of evidence will already be on their way over to the DA’s office. It’s time to move on. “We – we did it, Holder. We really did it.”

“You did it.” He pauses. “Look, you don’t sound ok. I’m gonna come over.”

“No. Holder, please.” You glance around the kitchen frantically, at the dirty dishes, the piles of unwashed laundry. He’ll take one look at this place and convince himself he was right. That you’re not ok. That you can’t cope. “I’m ok, you don’t need to do that.”

But it’s too late. He’s already hung up.

You don’t hear the knocking over the sound of running water and the ringing in your ears. Nor do you hear the front door open or the heavy footsteps moving across the tiled floor. Large hands land gently on your shoulders, and you find yourself being turned around from the sink. The mug you’re holding slips from you grasp and smashes on the floor.

Jaw clenched and clothes damp from the rain that drifted in sometime after midday, Holder takes one look at your face before gathering you into his arms and tucking you tightly against his chest, one hand smoothing along your hair. “No arguments. ‘m takin’ care you, a’ight?”

He draws back to observe as you nod weakly, your damp hand clutching at the fabric of his hoodie. The sudden and increasing urge to be close to him only intensifies when he presses a soft kiss to your forehead but before you can reciprocate, he walks you into the living room and sits you on the couch.

“Fuck, it’s freezin’ in here.”

He peruses the room and when he fails to find whatever it is he’s searching for he proceeds to tug off his hoodie and slips it over your head instead. Drowning in a sea of soft grey material, you pull your uninjured arm through the sleeve, leaving your cast to rest heavily against your stomach.

“That’s better”, he mutters to himself, and you have to agree. It’s big and warm and smells of Holder. “Now, stay here. And I‘m warnin’ ya - don’t move a muscle.” As an afterthought he switches on the television and flicks through the channels until landing on the same cartoon as the night before. He leaves you, retreating from the room with a wink.

You lean back against the cushions. The sound of splashing water and plates clanging is just audible above the hum of the television, causing you to realise with a start that your life must have hit a new low if Stephen Holder is doing your dishes.

When Holder collapses onto the couch beside you thirty minutes later, you notice with a jolt of alarm that he’s wearing the floral apron that’s been lurking in your kitchen drawer for years. He catches you staring across at him and grins widely. “Lookin’ good, don’t ya think?”

“You didn’t need to do that.” You incline your head towards the kitchen door. Embarrassment still lingers, but the sight of Holder in the pink apron is keeping it at bay for the time being.

“I know, but unless you got pest control on standby, it was prolly for the best, right?”

“Right.”

Having strategically sat himself on your good side, he nudges your arm. “Yo, wish you could’a seen the look on the DA’s face earlier. Made sure she felt like a complete dick for throwin’ the case before.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “You did?”

“Oh hells yeah.” He laughs, leaning back and legs spread. “She ain’t getting’ off lightly just cos you weren’t there to hand it to her. Made sure she knew how bad she fucked up.”

You can only begin to imagine how that conversation went down. “Thank you, Holder. For everything.”

He throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side. “Anythin’ for you.”

Without meaning to you melt into him, limbs turning to jelly at his words. His attention has switched to the television, chuckling under his breath at whatever is happening on the screen, but you can’t concentrate. His fingers are tangling through the loose ends of your hair and his leg, bouncing with nervous energy, bumps against your thigh. Once again you are painfully aware of every point where your bodies connect. Or perhaps more accurately, of every point where you’re not connected.

Big and brash and loud and so… Holder. You’re beginning to understand that his presence might just be exactly what you need. It grounds you, consumes you, drives you crazy. You want to kiss him. To surge up and claim his lips with your own. But something stops you. Something primal, heavy and rolling through your veins.

Fear.

It’s the fear of rejection. Of peeling back all those layers and baring yourself to him so completely, only for him not to like what he finds. The fear that he might see all your jagged edges and blurred lines and decide it's not for him. That you’re not for him.

As if he can sense your thoughts, Holder drags his gaze away from the TV to find you watching him. His hazel eyes shimmer with the light of the screen as they trail over your body, almost entirely hidden by the hoodie. “You good?”

Despite feeling far from it, you nod. Please kiss me, the voice in your head chants. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

But while Holder may be many things, telepathic is not one of them. “Nah, you’re all tense.” He squeezes your knee. “And cold”, he adds as you shiver at his touch. “I could – uh - run you a bath or somethin’?”

“I’m fine”, you insist even as you begin to wonder whether that fear was not entirely misplaced. Especially when he jumps up from the couch and disappears from the room, despite your protests.

When you leave the bathroom, you find Holder rooting through your cupboards. The apron has long since been discarded and as he straightens and stretches your eyes land on the smooth swatch of bare skin above the waistband of his jeans.

“Yo, you got any blankets in this place?” He turns around and his own eyes immediately drift to the swell of your breasts, just visible above the towel you clutch around your chest.

“Blankets?”

He nods. “Before you get any ideas ‘bout kickin’ me out, I’m either stayin’ the night or you’re comin’ back to mine. Seein’ as it’s so fuckin’ miserable out there thought I’d just take the couch.”

Not once do his eyes leave your body as you pad slowly across the carpet, damp hair dripping in your wake. Your voice is hoarse when you finally speak. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch, Holder.”

You focus on the bob of his throat as he swallows, the nervousness in his expression still coming as a surprise. “Thought you wouldn’t want me anywhere near your bed after yesterday’s performance.”

And there it is. The crux of the matter. Is this why he’s been so restrained around you? Why he hasn’t tried to touch to you beyond the few friendly hugs? Emboldened somewhat, you take a step closer. “Actually, I took it as a compliment.”

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, the hunt for blankets forgotten. “Uh - good, cos you know… in my defence I ain’t actually been with anyone in like… a year.”

There’s barely a metre separating you now, but you halt in your tracks. “A year?” That’s almost as long as the two of you have worked together…

“Guess you could say I was holdin’ out.” He shrugs, but you know him well enough to see through the feigned indifference.

“Seriously?” you croak. While this new revelation threatens to floor you, every nerve in your body is crying out, yearning for his touch and you find yourself inching closer.

“Mhmm”, he murmurs gruffly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Was worth the wait.”

You’ve heard enough. With shaking fingers you release the grip on your towel and it puddles on the floor around your feet. Holder’s expression instantly darkens with desire as his eyes sweep over your naked body. “Fuck-”

Before he can finish that statement, you grasp his shoulder with one hand and pull yourself up, crushing your lips against his. His long arms snake around your waist, tugging you infinitely closer as heat pools in your core. It’s still not close enough. Against your bare skin it’s easy to feel his erection pressing into you. Desperate for release you grind your hips against him, lest he have any doubts about where you want this to end.

“Damn, maybe I should practice abstinence more often”, he smirks against your mouth, roaming hands squeezing your waist, your ass, your breasts.

“Oh no, definitely not”, you murmur.

“No?” he arches an eyebrow.

You shake your head breathlessly. “Take me to bed, Holder.”

In one smooth movement he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his slim hips. “With pleasure.”

#stephen holder x reader #joel kinnaman #stephen holder #the killing #stephen holder x you #stephen holder fluff #stephen holder fic

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wheredafandomat · 2 years

Text

One last night

Hearing the banging of your door startled you awake causing you to jump out of bed as you stood with your back against the wall. Cautiously you stepped out of your bedroom before taking small steps through your apartment and towards the front door.

“Y/n let me in.”

Sighing, you walked towards the door with an angry expression before opening it to be met by Loki who practically fell on you.

“Loki what’s w—oh my goodness” you gasped, seeing the blood on the front of your top from him. Quickly, you guided him towards the sofa where he sat down. You grabbed the first aid kit in the kitchen cupboard and knelt on the floor next to Loki who you told to lay down. You helped him lift his top before you got to work, cleaning the blood and disinfecting his wounds. Luckily the cut wasn’t too deep so you were able to stitch it back yourself even with Loki’s snide comments telling you to be “gentle” or asking whether you were “qualified” to do this. Once you were finished and the cut had been sewn together, you finally looked up at Loki who had been watching you intently the whole time.

“What happened?” You asked.

“I may have gotten into a little fight.” He answered with an amused smile.

“Loki, you can’t just pick fights and you definitely can’t just turn up here anymore” you told him as you stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

“Ahh yes, the soldier” Loki goaded “is he here now?”

“Do you think you’d be if he was?” You quipped, pouring you and Loki a drink. Instead of answering, he looked down as you walked back towards him, offering him the drink. He looked back up at you as you downed it. “What? How else are you supposed to drink this absolute poison of a drink” you shrugged. Loki followed suit, downing his drink too before he grinned.

“Y/n, are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Are you staying? You asked, unamused “if you are, I’ll bring you a blanket.” Loki nodded and you took that as your signal to stand up. Reaching your bedroom again, you turned the lights on and retrieved a blanket. You also rummaged through a draw full of Bucky’s clothes that you had kept from nights that he had stayed over, looking for something Loki could throw on so he wouldn’t have to sleep in the bloodied clothes. You and Bucky hadn’t made anything exclusive but you were currently technically dating. You weren’t really sure where his head was at and you didn’t know if you wanted a relationship after having just come out of a long term one. Picking up a top and a pair of jogging bottoms, you made your way towards the front room.

“I’m not sure if these will fit I know you’re a” you began before seeing that Loki had already fallen asleep “giant” you whispered, smiling to yourself after glancing at his feet which were dangling off of the edge. You put the clothes down and made your way to him, putting the blanket over him. Seeing him like that again, so peaceful as he slept brought you straight back to the mornings you’d wake up before him. You’d turn to face him, still in his arms and place a quick kiss on his cheek before closing your eyes again. He’d always hug you tighter, pulling you closer towards him. Those were some of the best mornings of your life. Sun streaming in and coating you and Loki in gold.

“Take a picture why don’t you” he mumbled against the cushion under his head, eyes still closed.

“Shut up” you said, trying to not act flustered after having been caught. As you stood back up fully, you felt Loki grab your hand.

“Can you stay?” He whispered.

“On the sofa? There’s no space Loki. Goodnight” you huffed.

“We’ve spent many nights together in this exact spot.” He teased, a familiar smugness in his tone.

“Not many long ones if I remember correctly” you smiled “night.”

“Y/n please.” He murmured almost pleadingly.

“Loki, has something happened? Are you alright?” You asked, generally concerned.

“Can’t we talk about it in the morning? Will you please spend tonight with me?” He implored. Giving in and knowing that something must have been off, you pulled back the blanket before settling onto the sofa as he spooned you.

“We’re not having sex” you opined as he snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Goodnight y/n” he smiled against the nape of your neck. You closed your eyes to get to sleep but you didn’t miss the quiet “I will always love you” he whispered.

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in the blanket without the company of Loki. How he managed to leave without waking you was a mystery. The ringing of your phone caught your attention and you went inside your bedroom to answer it.

“Hello” you yawned.

“Y/n, could you get to the compound please.” Steve said on the other side but there was a solemness to his tone that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Be right there cap.”

You got dressed before heading to the compound where the team were gathered in the briefing room. Walking in, you caught Buckys eye but he looked down and you got a sickening feeling thinking that he probably knew you spend last night with Loki. Technically nothing happened but he probably still felt betrayed. Steve gestured for you to sit down which you did before he began taking.

“I’m so sorry y/n but we thought it best you hear it from us first rather than the reports on the news later.” Steve began causing your heart to sink. “It’s Loki.”

“Loki?” You said, knitting your brows.

“He’s deceased. He was killed last night.”

“Last night?” You laughed “he was with me last night.” You admitted, avoiding Buckys gaze who was surprisingly not looking at you. No one was. “Guys? Hello? Where’s Loki? What sort of joke is this? GUYS?”

“It’s true” Tony spoke, lowering his gaze to the floor.

“No” you uttered before standing up and running towards Loki’s room in the compound.

“Loki Lokiiii” You called in a chipper tone, flinging open his door to be met with an empty room. “LOKI?” You shouted, turning to be met by the team who had followed behind you.

“I’m sor—”

“Get out of my way” you scorned, pushing through everyone as you made your way to the common room to further look for Loki before seeing the news that was on.

“Loki Laufeyson was pronounced dead at the scene after an undercover mission went wrong last night. Reports say that he was attacked by some sort of extraterrestrial blade—” the reporter said before you ran towards the TV, kicking it to the ground.

“I don’t understand. He was there. He was with me last night. He came to me and he was” you paused before realisation hit you “bleeding.”

“That’s impossible y/n, after he was pronounced dead, officials released his body to us which has been in the morgue the whole night.”

“I-I don’t get it—I don’t understand” you began to sob as you fell to your knees. “Loki— Loki’s dead?”

You were met by saddened faces which answered your question.

A/N: this hasn’t been prof read or anything and it’s a bit random 😂 hope you liked

#tom hiddelston loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #oneshot #loki oneshot

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beomgyuls · 3 years

Text

Pairing- Beomgyu x Reader

Summary- What happens if Beomgyu caught you eating all alone in the kitchen, wearing his hoodie whilst reaching for a tub of ice cream?

Genre- fluff, slice of life

Late night cravings soon took over you, in the mood to eat something out of nowhere made your eyes shot open. Under the warm covers, an arm resting around your waist as the canvas of a window shows nothing but the city lights outside the quiet city.

You turned over to your side, looking at the time.

12:15 am

Biting down your lip trying your best to not wake your boyfriend up from his deep slumber, seeing his dark hair tousled, his long eyelashes almost touching his cheeks and he wears this pout whenever he sleeps.

You quietly heard your stomach growl, now remembering that you haven’t eaten dinner yet because you were too focused on doing your homework around that time. Beomgyu would definitely scold you for missing a meal.

You were about to open your mouth and wake Beomgyu up and that’s when he turns to his side, back facing you and hugging the pillow next to him. Finally letting you go, a quiet sigh of relief escaped your lips afterwards. Grabbing his spare hoodie on a chair sitting in the corner of the room, for it tends to get cold around this time.

Fixing your hair away from your face and making sure to not make any noise to your journey outside the bedroom. But before you could take another step, you walked back to Beomgyu’s sleeping figure and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead before making an escape.

———

Now standing in the kitchen, all hungry but still not knowing what to eat. You could heat up some leftovers or make yourself some ramen or maybe even cook something.

“I’ll just go with the leftovers..” You mumbled under your breath, opening the fridge and grabbing the containers that contained the leftovers from dinner earlier.

Heating it up with the use of the microwave is not going to get all of it heated up, so you opened up a cupboard that holds all up of your pans and carefully took out one.

Almost cursing at yourself when it hit another pan, you stopped everything that you’re doing and looked back, hoping that Beomgyu is still asleep in the bedroom.

Letting out a sigh of relief you continued what you were doing when the boy didn’t wake up from all of the noise coming up here in the kitchen.

“Why did I skip dinner?...” You scold yourself as you began heating up the food, staring at the sizzling flavors meeting your nose making your stomach growl.

Happiness soon took over you when the heating up process soon ended, grabbing a plate and a fork you began to dig in. Sitting alone in the dimly lit dining table whilst busy scrolling down your socials, liking random pictures of your friends and some cute pandas.

You’re so out of focus when you reached down to hopefully get another piece of pork, but nothing met your fork.

“Hm?” You questioned yourself, turning off your phone to see an already empty plate.

“Am I really that hungry??”

Sighing you brought the empty plate to the sink and left it there for a moment. And then suddenly you remembered that Beomgyu bought ice-cream earlier, two tubs of ice-cream to be exact. He got rewarded with a bunch of ticklish kisses all over his face from you then, that you received with a hand load of his laughter afterwards. He even got you your favorite flavor of ice-cream, knowing his girlfriend really well.

“Bub, what are you doing?” And there it is, Beomgyu standing there in the kitchens doorway, hair all messy and fluffy at the same time, a questionable look on as he watches you.

He pictured the scene quickly, you just about to grab the tub of ice-cream from the freezer, and with you also wearing one of his hoodies. A soft smile soon showed his lips.

“Uh… why are you out of bed?”

“You know I couldn’t sleep without you by my side right?, and I just thought that you were in the bathroom but you’re taking so long” Beomgyu finishes.

Your heart ached when you caught a glimpse of him rubbing the tiredness away his eyes, slowly you set the tub of ice-cream down and made your way towards him.

Cupping his cheeks, making him look down at you and there you were greeted with his welcoming eyes, sweetness swimming in them.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, you’re probably still tired”

“Your hands are cold” He chuckles, reacting immediately when you pulled away from him, he soon wraps his arms around you, keeping you close.

“I’m kidding…”

“Well do you want some ice-cream too?” You soon offered while returning his embrace, inhaling his scent that screams home along with his warmth.

“Yes” And just like that you snapped away from his hold, breaking a pout to rest on his lips. The boy watched you fetch two spoons out from the kitchen drawer, giving him one as you opened the lid of the ice-cream tub. Mouth already watering and wanting to get the sweetness to sink into your mouth.

In the middle of eating the ice-cream halfway, Beomgyu suddenly stopped, his eyes squinting to get a proper view of the empty plate along with the dirty pan that you used to heat up the leftovers earlier sitting in the sink.

Following his gaze and already knowing the reason, when you turned back and looked at Beomgyu he darts holes into your soul. His eyes glaring at you, face showing like a parent getting angry at their kid.

“Did you not eat dinner earlier?” He asked, dropping the spoon down and licking his lips.

You silently sat there across from him, acting like you didn’t hear anything, ignoring him. And that’s when the tub of ice-cream got taken away from you, looking up at the thief, Beomgyu raised his eyebrows at you questionably.

“I asked you a question, baby” Beomgyu pressed, his deep voice now meeting your ears.

Groaning, you cannot ignore him anymore you dropped your shoulders and let out an irritating sigh.

“Fine! I forgot about dinner-”

“They where literally right in front of you earlier, but you still forgotten about them?” Beomgyu asked, for what his mind could remember, the two of you ate dinner together, sitting in the dining table with all of the food all cooked and prepared to get eaten.

“I-I waited for you to get up and leave, that’s when I washed the dishes and put the foods away..” You admitted, only eating a spoon or two earlier with a mix of only drinking a glass of water surely won’t fill you up.

“Why? do you not want me to eat with you?-”

“No! that’s not it, afterwards I went back immediately on doing my homework”

“Can’t your homework wait? you need to eat and take care of yourself, bub” Beomgyu softly spoke, reaching in to hold your now warm hand that’s resting on top of the flat surface of a table.

“I need to submit it before 9 pm” Beomgyu knew that schools really hard for you right now that’s why he’s here. He’s here to help you and to make you happy under those stressful days, he’s also here to take care of you by heart.

“Next time ask for my help or just never skip a meal, okay?”

“Okay” You nodded your head, caressing his long fingers with the use of your thumb as the two of you smiled warmly at each other afterwards.

Just two teenagers madly in love with each other.

“I love you” Beomgyu sweetly said, fixing your hands together to make them intertwine.

“I love you too”

“And did I mention that you look cute with my hoodie on?”

#beomgyu #choi beomgyu #txt beomgyu #txt post #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #fluff #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu imagines #choi beomgyu x reader

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missuga · 2 years

Text

Quiet Help — Shinso Hitoshi

Warnings & wc: fluff, very brief mentions of death, kind of ghost!shinso, gn!reader, | 3.6k

Summary: Your new apartment unknowingly came with a few surprises, and a free roommate.

Authors note: This is a rewrite of one of my first fics on my old account! I had an idea to expand upon it but it would be way too long, so it might be kind of a cliff hanger? idk enjoy. also not proofed again.

The first few nights in a new apartment can be a little difficult to adjust to. It takes a while to really know a place, the secrets living in the walls aren’t given as housewarming gift. Everything waits to be discovered by whoever might move in next, and you don’t get to choose whether its good or bad.

Some were good; like the sun shining warmly through windows lighting up the entire space as it did, or the cooling breeze when you opened the shutters. Other things were not as relaxing. The way the walls creaked in the wind, or how the darkness seemed to gather in the corners of the room at night waiting for you to look.

Not everyone knows exactly what they’re getting into when they move in, the history of a building unknown to many. Some never even find anything out about a space they live in. But its those lucky few who are deemed worthy enough to see what a building really has to offer.

That’s what happened to you, though you couldn’t quite tell if you were exactly lucky.

Your parents always told you to be careful with the energies that flowed around you. Messing with something too much or talking about something more than one should might potentially bring that exact something into existence.

You knew not to use things like Ouija boards or other items that had a deep connection with the spiritual world. You tended to have a keen sense of those things, something always urged you to stay away from stuff like that. Almost like a blessing. Though like most blessings, there is always an unseen side.

You started to notice odd things after the second week fully moved in.

Stuff you swore you’d placed in one spot seemed to move on its own. Shadows stared at you from the corner of your eyes, disappearing when you turned to look. Noises in the middle of the nigh, right outside of your locked bedroom door. The oddities happening weren’t enough to startle you, but it was unnerving enough for you to ask a friend to stay over. Just to make sure you weren’t losing your mind.

“Thanks again.” You said taking Mina’s bag from her. She shook her head and winked at you.

“Stop thanking me! I wanted to see your apartment anyways, and plus I might be able to see ghosts.” Mina spoke, and you didn’t miss the excited edge to her voice.

“You’re here to help make sure there are no ghosts.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Mina shook off your words and smiled as she walked towards your bedroom. “You still have netflix right? There is a horror movie I’ve been dying to watch!”

It wasn’t long after the first movie ended and a dinner of random snacks you had in your cupboard that both of you fell asleep in your bed.

Your phone showed it was just around two in the morning when you woke up again. The t.v. screen barely lit up your room as your eyes adjusted to the change of brightness. Mina was missing from her side of the bed and for a second you almost panicked until you heard her laugh sound from the living room.

“You didn’t tell me your roommate was cute and funny!” She squealed when she slipped back into your room shutting the door softly behind her.

It took you a moment to register her words the sleep lacing your thoughts leaving quickly.

“What?” You asked sitting up, eyes wide as your looked at her.

“His purple hair is so cool.” She said as she got back into your bed. “But don’t worry. If you like him he is all yours.”

“Mina.” You whispered; thoughts still stuck on roommate. “Are you sure?”

“Wait are you guys just friends? Does that mean I can shoot my shot-“

“I don’t have a roommate.” You cute off her rambling and panic started to fully set in as she cocked her head to the side slightly.

“Who was on your couch then?”

Your heart dropped and you almost pushed Mina out of your bed to get to the living room. It was too dark to see anything clearly, but you could just make out a silhouette on your couch.

In the brief moment it took you to find the light switch and look back at the couch whatever was there before was gone.

“You okay?” Mina asked behind you, stepping into the threshold of your room. A heavy pressure sank into your chest as your turned around to face her.

“Are you absolutely sure you saw someone?”

“Yeah? I’m positive that I did. I even spoke to him for a bit.” The small smile fell from her lips slowly as she saw your worried state.

This proved that you weren’t going crazy before. There was something going on inside your apartment, and it wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.

“We’re sleeping with the lights on.”

Nothing out of the ordinary happened over the next few days and you were too busy to even think about the person that Mina saw. You had been leaving for work while the sun was still asleep and came home at no time a normal person should.

Your work was exhausting. In your tired state you didn’t notice the small things that were happening around your apartment. When you woke up for work, your clothes were nicely folded on the chair in the corner; the night before you had thrown them in a pile somewhere in your room.

Something from your fruit basket would somehow end up right next to your keys, it would be your morning meal. Even if you came home and collapsed into bed, falling asleep the moment your head hit your pillow; you would always wake up with a fully charged phone that you never remembered putting on the charger.

There was one day that you noticed something. It was a horrible day out and you had woken up late. Because you were rushing, the thought of grabbing an umbrella slipped your mind completely. You were going to be forced to run to work in the rain until you saw there was an umbrella hooked on the strap of your purse. The place you kept your umbrellas was nowhere near you hung your purse. There was no way you could’ve accidentally placed it there.

Weeks passed and the same things kept on. You started to realize the things that had been making your days a little easier were thing that you never did. The previous signs of a haunting were gone, so you weren’t quite as worried as before, but it was still a little unsettling.

In a way, you were grateful to whatever thing was helping you along. A good morning definitely led you to be less stressed at work, you even felt more relaxed at home despite not spending as much time there as you wanted to.

The only thing you still wondered about was the boy that Mina saw. You hadn’t seen any more shadows around the apartment, you started to think the silhouette you saw was just your sleepy eyes believing Mina.

The idea that you had just been seeing things changed though. The paperwork at your agency was a little less relentless and you were able to leave earlier than normal. The nights of you coming home in the dark had stopped, but you were able to leave in the middle of the day.

Wanting to savor the time off, you went straight to your apartment excited to relax. It took almost no time to get through the door and shed yourself of your outerwear. Something in your gut stopped you, and you looked up towards your kitchen just in time to see a flash of purple hair slip around the corner towards the guest room. Your heart skipped and you rushed forward trying to catch whatever it was.

You threw open the guestroom door but you were met with the empty room. A sigh left your lips, whether it was from relief or the thought that you really were going crazy, you didn’t know.

When you walked back into your kitchen your stomach dropped once more. On the counter sat a half-empty mug of tea that was warm to the touch.

After that day, you knew someone else was living in your apartment with you. Malicious or not, you wanted answers.

On your next day off you went to the leasing office in search of them, there had to be a reason the price of the apartment so low, you hadn’t thought about it before.

The woman at the leasing office looked a little worried when you questioned it. She shifted in her seat nervously as you stared across the desk.

“They were supposed to tell you about it when you signed the papers.” She sighed, sorting through a few folders on her desk before handing you a file. “They must’ve stopped telling people who were interested, the apartment had been on the market for a while.”

“That’s great.” You muttered looking at the file for a moment, you weren’t sure what you were looking for in it.

“The previous tenants were two men, the younger one was the one who moved out.” She said with a slight waver to her voice.

“What about the other one?” You asked not liking where this was heading, you had a feeling you already knew what she was going to say.

“Well, he passed away in his room one night. The cause of death is still unknown, but it is assumed it was due to a lingering quirk effect of some sort.” She mumbled, pointing at the corner of the file. There was a picture paperclipped on the inside. You recognized the shorter one, pro hero Deku. She finger rested on the taller boy with wild purple hair. “That’s him.”

The only word that fell from your lips was a soft ‘oh.’

The story that the leasing agent told you was the only thing on your mind for days. You had to do something about it or you figured it might drive you insane. Just leaving it in the air the someone had passed away in your apartment was something you could not sit with.

Using the cover of your hero agency, you got in touch with Deku. You said you had a few questions about his hero gear and wanted to set up a meeting with him. It was a lot easier than you thought, he agreed on meeting you at a local cafe.

You brought the file the agent let you borrow with you, holding it tightly into your chest. You saw the green-haired boy sitting at a table in the corner and smiled when he noticed you.

“Hello, Deku.” You said softly, trying to force away the nervousness building in your stomach.

“Hey, It’s nice to finally meet you!” He said excitedly. He was a bit older than the picture the leasing office had of him, and you couldn’t help but wonder just how long ago he had lived there.

After a few minutes of chatting about your agencies and some equipment, you couldn’t push away the burning need to ask him about the apartment.

“I’m sorry, Deku. I’m afraid I wasn’t completely truthful in why I wanted to meet with you.” You gently slipped the file on the table between you, taking a slow breath in before you opened the cover. The picture of the two boys was harder to look at now.

“Is that…” Deku trailed off looking at the picture.

“I live in the same apartment you used to be roommates with him.” You started slowly, hoping he’d say something, but his eyes were glued to the picture. The smile he wore earlier falling a little now. “I just wanted to know if you had experienced anything weird after.”

You stopped, suddenly unsure of what to say. Deku’s silence was unsettling as he stared at the picture still.

“I’m sorry, this was stupid to ask you. I’m sorry if I brought up any unpleasant feelings.”

“I did.” He interrupted you and picked up the picture.

“What?”

“After, you know…” He trailed off for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I don’t think that he left completely.”

“That makes sense.” You whispered, eyes falling to the table. You had been expecting this answer, but it still didn’t fail to startle you a bit.

“I’m guessing he is trying to contact you?” Deku asked as he looked back toward the photo.

“I’m not sure. Stuff just keeps happening. At first, it was random and spaced apart. Now it seems something happens every day. My friend even saw him one time.” You answered honestly. You weren’t mistaken about the things that happened in your apartment but you still were a little unsure.

“I would tell you to be careful but honestly, I don’t think he’s bad. It might be a little scary but I really think he is good. When he was alive, he was one of the most gentle, loving people I knew. It was not fair what happened, but sometimes things are better off this way.” Deku smiled up at you, tears were brimming his eyes. “Can I keep this photo?”

“Um. Ghost?” You said after a while of pulling courage together as you stepped back into your apartment. “I think I met someone close to you today.”

The silence was overwhelming as you stood in your kitchen hoping for something to happen. After a while, you gave up. It was already nighttime, and you had to get up early for work in the morning.

“Before I go, I guess I should tell you that Midoriya says hello and that he hopes you’re doing well.” It felt a little odd to seemingly talk to no one, but something felt like you needed to say it.

It took you a while to fall asleep, your thoughts were a blur. But somehow you managed to push them aside for long enough to start to drift off. After a bit there was a warm presence in front of you.

“Thank you.” A soft voice said. You looked up with the last bit of consciousness you had and saw a faint glint of purple in the moonlight.

The next day at work seemed to pull all of your energy from you. You had fought three different criminals in the streets, you had paperwork up to your ears and you even though you slept the entire night you felt like you didn’t sleep at all.

The morning started out normal, but the day only progressively got worse. You didn’t even get a chance to breathe in between the criminal attacks. To say that you were exhausted was an understatement.

When you were finally able to go back to your apartment, you still had another report to write. You didn’t remember being a hero was so tedious.

You settled at the coffee table in your living room with your laptop, crossing your legs. About halfway through the report you could feel your vision blurring and decided to take a break. Thinking a glass of water would help, you got up and made your way to the kitchen. In a single second, the ground went from stable to twisting.

You braced yourself to hit the hard tile but instead, you felt arms wrap around you. Your body was limp and you could barely catch your breath. With the last of your strength, you looked up meeting a pair of dark purple eyes.

You woke with a start as you took in your surroundings, you were in your room now. As you tried to remember how you’d gotten here something caught you off-guard.

“You’re up.” You whipped around at the sound of a voice startled. The boy from the photo stood a few feet from your bed. He was fairly tall with wild purple hair, dark purple eyes that had heavy bags under them. There was a paleness to his skin that you hadn’t noticed in the photo. He took a step forward and you must’ve shifted back unconsciously because he stopped abruptly. “Oh, uh, sorry.”

“No, no it’s okay.” You said. It took you a second to find your voice. After a second you looked away awkwardly and picked at the blanket that lay over the bed.

“Really, Y/n. You push yourself too hard sometimes.” Your eyes snapped up at him, widened. He knew your name. You felt a little silly at reacting like that. “Shit, I’m sorry. I must be scaring you.”

“Um, well not really? I don’t know.” You mumbled, causing him to look back up at you. “I’m a little surprised you seem to know me so well,”

“Yeah, sorry. You’ve been here for months now, you’re the only person I’ve seen in a while.” His voice evened out slightly, the wavering from before leaving.

“Oh right, I guess you would know a little bit about me then.” A soft smile fell on your lips, “Thank you for all the little things you’ve done for me in the past. Like hanging my umbrella on my purse that one time. And stop saying sorry!”

“Oh, sorry.” He grinned slightly after he realized he’d said it again. “You’re welcome. I tried to not get noticed.”

“Here, you can sit.” You said and moved over on the bed, sitting up all the way. He hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed when you motioned him over. The two of you were quiet for a moment.

“Thank you for talking to Midoriya, I-“ He paused, “I think he was someone important to me when I was alive. When you said his name, a couple memories came over me.”

“That’s good, I guess.” You said and looked over at him. There was a sadness to him, it was ever so slight. “Do you not remember before you, um.”

“Not really. When I try to think about it, it feels like my mind is swimming. There are a few things that I can remember, like Midoriya and a few emotions. But other than that, there isn’t much.” The sadness grew stronger in him, you could see it on his face now. Without even thinking, you reached out to grab his hand. He tensed slightly, and you were surprised that you could actually hold his hand. It was cold, a lot colder than you expected.

“I don’t know if I can be of any help, but I want to try. As much as you helped me in the past few months, I want to help you.” You spoke softly, it was the least you could do to repay him. He’d gone through unimaginable things.

“I would like that.” He said quietly and after a moment he leaned down resting his head on your shoulder. You squeezed his hand and smiled. “I’m glad I could help you even a little.”

It was quiet for a while between you two, for some reason you felt so close to this boy. This ghost. Somehow there was a connection as weird as it sounded.

“So, you know a lot about me.” You started and he shifted his head to look up at you. “Is there anything else that you know about yourself?”

He thought for a few seconds and nodded. “My name. It’s Shinso Hitoshi. You don’t have to call me ghost anymore.” You could feel your cheeks burn a bit until a yawn ripped from your throat. Shinso started to get up seeing that you were tiring again. “I know you don’t work tomorrow, but you still need your rest.”

“Shinso, wait.” You said pulling him down onto the bed again. “You can stay with me.”

He smiled at you and rubbed his thumb over your hand. “I can’t promise that I’ll be here when you wake up. Sometimes I can’t hold this form for long.”

“That’s okay, I just don’t want you to be alone right now.” Shinso felt his chest ache slightly, it was something he hadn’t felt in a long time, and he couldn’t tell what the feeling was. He reached over to turn the lamp off and slid down in the bed with you and you nestled yourself into his side, his arms wrapping around you. “I hope I didn’t scare you with the things I did.”

It was odd how real he felt despite the cold chill in his skin. All the stories you’ve heard about ghosts and lingering spirits not even one mentioned anything about a tangible body. You started to think he wasn’t a ghost after all.

“Do you remember anything that happened the night you passed?” You asked suddenly, like it was almost on instinct.

Shinso thought for a moment before he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I cant remember. It’s been a very long time since then I think. Why?”

“I’m wondering if this is due to a quirk. I’m sorry I think too much, especially when I’m tired.” You laughed slightly before shaking your head at the idea, it was too much to think about right now.

“Maybe you should go to sleep.” He spoke softly and you couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Okay, goodnight Shinso.” You whispered and finally shut your eyes. “Just don’t move too much stuff around tomorrow I want to clean.”

“Yeah, okay I won’t.” You could feel his chest vibrate as he laughed. “Hopefully, I can talk to you tomorrow without having to worry about you passing out.”

“You know, it was a lot quieter when you just moved my keys and stuff around.” You mumbled barely about to form the full sentence as you started to drift off once more.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be quiet. Goodnight.”

#bnha #hitoshi shinso fluff #mha shinso fluff #shinso hitoshi imagine #shinso hitoshi #Shinso fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shinso one shot #Shinso Hitoshi fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero imagines #my hero imagines #.rewrite

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things between them deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Spencer slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the morning light seeping in through the curtains. Jo was resting peacefully on his lap just like how they were during the movie. Unexpectedly however, Y/N was leant up against his shoulder, softly breathing. Spencer wished he could stay like this forever, this is how it should have always been. But then, he noticed the time on his watch and realized it was Monday morning.

Jo was tightly clinging on to his right arm so he slowly lifted his left hand and nudged you slightly. You mumbled and dug yourself further into the crook of his neck, clearly not awake yet.

“Y/N, it’s Monday and it’s 7:30 in the morning,” he whispered.

Your eyes shot open and you quickly distanced yourself from him.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-well you know,” you gestured to his shoulder.

“Josephine, baby, you need to get up now. Mommy forgot to set an alarm for school,” you gently shook the kid awake.

You lifted Jo up as she was beginning to wake and carried her upstairs to dress her.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Spencer called out.

“Could you pack her lunch? Give her a juice box, a fruit cup, a bag of cheez-it’s, and a PB&J please,” you shouted back.

Spencer ran to the kitchen, grabbing the empty dinosaur lunch box from Jo’s backpack. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer to keep the lunch box cool inside, putting in a fruit punch juice box and a diced peaches fruit cup with a spoon. He poured some cheez-it’s into a ziploc bag and sealed it shut. Then, Spencer located the peanut butter in the cupboards, slathering it on to the other slice of bread.

“Crust on or cut off?” he yelled upstairs.

“On is fine! Thank you!” you replied as you finished brushing Jo’s hair, starting to head downstairs.

“Jo, grab your lunch box from Spencer and thank him for making you lunch, put it in your backpack, and grab a pop-tart for the road. Mommy just needs to grab her work bag,” you said, putting on a tan blazer and pinning your hair back with bobby pins.

Jo nodded and thanked Spencer, grabbing a strawberry frosted pop-tart and running out the front door with her backpack.

“You know pop-tarts have only three grams of protein but are high in refined carbs like high fructose corn syrup. Studies show they actually can make you hungrier,” Spencer stated.

He wasn’t intending to take a jab at Y/N’s choice of breakfast for Jo this morning but you certainly took it that way.

“I’m sorry, have you raised a kid?” you asked sarcastically.

“No but who’s fault is that?” he snapped back, immediately regretting it.

Your hands fell from where they were adjusting your hair in the mirror. You did not look at him or say a single word as you collected your purse and laptop and began to walk to the door.

“Y/N, wait! I didn’t mean that,” he pleaded.

You inhaled and turned around.

“You don’t get to sit on your high horse and act like I didn’t do you a favor, Spencer,” you clenched your jaw.

“A FAVOR?” he asked incredulously, “You call missing six years of my daughter’s life a favor?”

“You’re seriously going to look me in the eye and tell me that if I called you seven years ago saying I was pregnant, you would have quit the FBI and moved back,” you questioned.

“I-”

“Even if you did quit, you would have ended up resenting us for not getting to fulfill your dreams so yeah I did you a favor.”

“So you think our daughter is some massive burden that you ‘took the bullet’ on? If you truly think that, then maybe I’ll just fight you for custody.”

“I was fully aware of my options back then. I chose to have Jo because she was my dream. But she clearly wasn’t yours because you left me the second you had something better lined up. And I’d like to see you fucking try to fight for custody, news flash! Your name isn’t on the birth certificate. You have no legal rights over Jo. But how dare you even threaten to take my child away from me over a fucking pop-tart, you asshole,” you stormed out the house, slamming the front door behind you.

The feeling in Spencer’s chest now the exact opposite of when he woke up this morning.

Please call me. I’m sorry, I was out of line.

You had a multitude of missed calls and texts from Spencer that you didn’t reply to but that was the first one he sent. One of them said he was being called away on a case so luckily he wasn’t showing up at your door every day.

It was Saturday night and Jo had fallen asleep on the couch watching Tom & Jerry cartoons. You clicked the TV off and carried her up the stairs. You tucked her under her dinosaur comforter and kissed her forehead.

“Bedtime story, Mommy,” she mumbled.

“Okay, which one?” you asked, looking at the bookshelf.

“Caltechia,” she said, opening her eyes slightly.

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“Spencer told it to me. You know the one with the goofy knight that loves the elegant queen and pretty princess of Caltechia,” Jo stated matter-of-factly.

You smiled softly, “I’m sorry, Baby J, I don’t know how that one ends. Maybe Spencer can finish it for you some day. How about The Very Hungry Caterpillar instead?”

She nodded and her eyes fluttered shut once again as you began to read.

After flicking the lights off and gently shutting Jo’s door, you returned downstairs to grade some papers.

You got through about five when there was a soft hesitant knock on the door. You sighed, closing your laptop. Your TV was on as background noise and the lights in the living room were on so it was obvious you were home and still awake. You already knew who it was without even looking.

You opened the door slightly to see Spencer standing there with swollen puffy eyes and nervous fidgety hands.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

You opened the door all the way and plopped yourself back down on the couch.

“Jo is sleeping so if you came here to yell at me again, save it,” you huffed.

“No, I came here to apologize. I wasn’t trying to criticize your parenting. I was just stating a random fact I read, it was stupid. I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry that I escalated the argument instead of trying to defuse it,” he spoke softly.

“I’m sorry too. I should have known that it was just another statistic. Some things never change,” you laughed softly.

“But Y/N, you knew that I had a father that abandoned me and my worst fear was becoming him and you still kept Jo from me anyways,” he whispered with watery eyes.

“You know how you claimed you broke up with me to protect me? I thought keeping Jo from you so you didn’t have to make that decision was kind of like protecting you. You can’t abandon a child you didn’t know existed.”

“Well, I know about her now and I’m not abandoning her. I don’t want to. Can you please let me be her dad and not just her father?” he pleaded, wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“We can tell her at breakfast in the morning and you can come with us to the park tomorrow. I guess we could work out some days that you can drop her off at school or pick her up and keep her for dinner. But she sleeps here, I’m not budging on that for now. She needs some consistency if we are going to spring this on her,” you replied.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you,” he excitedly whisper-shouted.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Spencer pulled you in for a hug. He soon realized when you tensed in his arms.

“Oh-uh I’m sorry,” he stuttered, pulling his arms back, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

He awkwardly waved as he made his way to the door.

“Good night, Spencer.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You pulled back the window curtain a little to watch Spencer walk out of your driveway. He had his back turned to you but you saw him pump his fist in the air and jump up and down a few times before collecting himself and beginning to walk away with a smile on his face. You laughed to yourself. Still the same old goofy Spencer.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid #reid x reader #cm fic #spencer reid x you

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goldentournesol · 3 years

Note

Hiii could you do fluff #12,17,18 from prompt list 1 please? Thank you!

hii! this was hard er than I expected ahaha! also decided on baby spence for this cuz I thought it'd be really cute

"You come here often?” “Well considering I work here, yes.”

“Could you say that again?” “Were you not listening?” “No I was, I just like hearing your voice.”

“I’m pretty sure (you’re/she’s/he’s/they’re) my soulmate”

Spencer released a deep sigh as Morgan shook his shoulder. Elle smirked at them both. They’ve been trying to convince him to “shoot his shot” with Y/N for about 10 minutes now. She was relatively new to the team but Spencer’s crush was nearly debilitating. He couldn’t go 5 seconds without sneaking a peek at her. Derek kept trying to give him examples of pickup lines, Spencer knew they’d sound ridiculous coming from him.

“Come on, man. What’s the worst that could happen?” Derek tried to lighten up the situation and ease his nerves.

“Are you seriously asking for the statistical probability of that beautiful woman rejecting me?” Spencer stared at his friend incredulously. Derek quickly shook his head and Elle spoke.

“Reid, listen to me, when was the last time you asked someone on a date?” She asked and Spencer paused, he knew the exact number of days since he’s been on a date, but it was far too embarrassing to tell her. His hesitation told her everything she needed to know. “You have nothing to lose right if you ask her now. Worst case scenario, she rejects you and you can move on.”

Spencer grimaced at the thought of rejection but his eyes followed Y/N to the kitchenette. He took a deep breath and nodded, “Alright, alright.” Derek clapped him on the back and wished him luck before he made his way to the kitchenette.

“Hey, there.” Spencer said, the words catching on the side of his throat nervously. He cleared it slightly and avoided eye contact as he pretended to get himself coffee.

“Hey, Spencer!” Y/N chirped, shooting him a smile before getting back to her coffee.

“So...you come here often?” Spencer immediately regretted the words that came out of his mouth. IQ of 187 and he couldn’t come up with anything better than that? Curse Derek for bringing up pickup lines!

She laughed, taken aback by the question slightly. Spencer tried to ignore the adorable way in which her face twisted in confusion, “Well, considering I work here, yes.”

Spencer wanted to smack his head against the cupboard from embarrassment, or maybe it would be better if the earth split in two and swallowed him right up. There was no coming back from this one. He sent her an awkward smile but by then she had finished making her cup of coffee and began walking away. He didn’t see her grinning like a fool, though.

After that, Spencer was positive that he’d completely blown it. But she was still talking to him as if it hadn’t happened. Maybe she was just taking pity on him, but the way she looked at him as he rambled on and on told him otherwise.

The poor boy had completely embarrassed himself in front of her, she thought it was adorable, but she felt for him. She couldn’t let him think that she wasn’t interested, because she was. She was very interested. She just had to throw him a bone.

They were sitting across from each other on a flight back home from an exhausting case and her eyes were burning with sleep, but he’d just finished explaining the complexities of the first printing press to her-- except she hadn’t retained a single word. His voice was too soothing to pay attention to the words right now.

“Could you say that again?” She sleepily muttered, resting her chin on her hand, her eyelids fighting the urge to droop.

Spencer’s head jerked back slightly in surprise, “Were you not listening?”

“No I was, I just like hearing your voice.” She smiled and his heart absolutely dematerialized in his chest. His mouth was stuck in a gaping position, but it wasn’t until Derek shot him the sharpest daggers with his eyes from beside her.

Keep talking, you idiot! Spencer heard through the airwaves between them.

Completely flustered, Spencer began elaborating on what he was saying last. Her eyes began to droop and normally he’d be quite offended, but the ghost of a smile on her lips thawed his anxiety.

By that point, things had gone much smoother between the two, but Spencer just needed a little push. It was currently the day before Halloween and Spencer had been talking everyone’s head off. Everyone stared at him as he stood in the conference room right after Hotch announced that wheels were supposed to be up in 30.

“The cool thing about Halloween is that it’s a uniquely American holiday. I mean, despite its obvious origins in the Celtic festival of--”

“Samhain and the Christian All Saints day.” Y/N cut him off, while gathering her files. Spencer’s mouth gaped slightly and nodded.

“Yes...that’s exactly what I was going to say.” He said in nothing short of awe.

“Well, you're not the only one who loves Halloween here, Doc.” She smiled and walked past him to her desk.

“I’m pretty sure she’s my soulmate.” He said nearly breathlessly as he stared after her. Elle laughed and shook her head at the lovesick genius.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb

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poetofthefall · 2 years

Text

2:34 am, the city (financial district), london, england

Pans and cooking utensils litter Jim’s marble countertops, the beginnings of Seb’s favorite dish from Kabul starting to simmer on the stove. Ghee and sunflower seed oil, and then comes the spiced lamb, except, except.

Sebastian grits his teeth against the strain in his back, trying once more to reach above him and grab the spices he needs from the cupboard. His hand doesn't even make it above the level of his shoulder this time before a sharp bolt of agony shoots through him. He gasps and jerks his arm down automatically. Shite.

It's honestly just a bit of bruising, not something Seb saw fit to bother Jim with in his report, or to mention since his return from Canada. It's always a toss-up whether his boss will react to mistakes with a derisive, mocking comment, indifference, or genuine anger. Sebastian isn't particularly in the mood to deal with any of those things. Actually, all the business trip left him with (beside the line of furious purple-black bruises across his upper back and perhaps a little muscle damage) was the desire for a steaming hot shower and a bite or two of flavorful food.

Which he can't exactly get without the fucking spices, now, can he?

Sebastian slams the cupboard shut, scowling, and turns his attention to the dining room chairs, his last-ditch resort, only to jerk in shock at the wide-eyed face staring at him in interest. “Jesus fuck, Jim! How- what are you doing here?” He sputters, feeling foolish.

“I live here.” Jim replies blandly, tilting his head to the side. He's dressed down today, Sebastian notices, a simple button-up tucked into comfortable-looking slacks, accompanied by dark wool socks. “Having some trouble, Tiger? Has the treacherous spice rack conquered all six-foot-something of you?”

Mocking comments, then. He grits his teeth and holds back a sigh, some subtle noise indicating that the mixture on the stove has started to bubble. “I- yes. Actually. Sorry if I, uh, disturbed you, banging around.”

He flips off the stove, and Jim raises his eyebrows, as if noting the weariness in Seb's voice. The 24 hour place down the street isn't going to be anywhere near as good, but he'll be damned if he's going to stand on top of a chair like a child with Jim Moriarty watching. “Takeout it is tonight, then. Want anything?”

Jim just looks at him, fingers tapping against the polished tabletop soundlessly.

For all that he's trying to hide it, the sniper is moving stiffly, shoulders wound tight as a drum. Usually, he would be done with his routine by this point; arrive home, unpack, shower, eat, clean his guns, seek Jim out. Clearly, Sebastian has been struggling for a while now, and it shows in the muted frustration in his voice. Jim resists the urge to laugh, rising from his chair and crossing over to the counter. “Don’t be silly. You’ve clearly gone to a lot of work.” He replies, voice quiet. Now that Sebastian notices, actually, his shirt is a bit rumpled, and his hair seems more out of place than normal, almost messy. Had he been asleep for once?

Jim brushes a hand across his waist as he walks past, making Sebastian’s stomach flip. It's been months since they first started sleeping together, but displays of affection are still erratic and mostly unexpected. Jim’s almost warm manner is also surprising. He watches, slightly off-kilter, as Jim turns the oven back on and opens the spice cabinet, and feels his mouth fall slack when the criminal picks up the exact spices that he’d needed and lays them on the counter.

“You- you know how to cook?” He murmurs, finishing the sentence there. Not remarking upon the obscurity of the dish, or the fact that he had to have learnt it, memorized it, by watching Sebastian.

Instead- rather more cleverly- he sits silently at the kitchen table, watching Jim pad around the kitchen. A playful, manic hurricane on some days and a dangerous, hateful creature on others, but always powerful, always put together and brilliant and dangerous. And rather soft when he's fresh out of bed, apparently. Sebastian looks down in a halfhearted attempt to hide his smile.

"Get that look off your face, Moran." Jim drawls without turning around. Seb jerks his head back up, only to catch Jim's eye in the reflection of a stainless steel pan hanging above the stove. There's a small smirk on his face from catching Seb out.

"Now. Come over here and finish this pilaf, I'm starving."

#mormor #moramori #sherlock #jim moriarty #ficlet #my writing #just a little snippet of everyday life #i'd tag it as 'domestic bliss' except that's already taken by a beautiful masterpiece

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