#just not gonna leave the flat for a week and see if that fixes me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sickeninglyshoujo · 3 months

Note

God you’re gonna hate me for this thought but after reading dad!simon all I kept thinking was

What if the daughter did die? Like id imagine reader being fuckin PISSED and kinda being closed off with Simon cus she didn’t want her daughter being in the army and Simon wasn’t hearing her concerns

oh i do hate you

but i had to write it

teared up twice writing it and said i cant cry tonight about this

part 1 - dad!simon

word count: 750

warnings: death, grief

buy me a ko-fi

They brought your daughter home in a plain pine box.

They wouldn’t let you see her no matter how you wept and tore at the lid that had been nailed tightly shut.

“Just let me see my baby, I need to make sure it’s her…Let me see her just once please…” You cried to her C.O. The man gave a pained look above your shoulder at your husband, ever your shadow, who took his silent plea and wrapped his hands around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

He didn’t know you could scream like that.

The days immediately after the funeral are the worst. You sit in the kitchen chair where you woodenly placed yourself after returning from the graveyard. Your eyes stare into the air in the space in front of you, unfocused and unseeing.

The kitchen hurts the most.

This was where you had so many family dinners, first with your messy baby in her high chair, a headstrong toddler demanding her own utensils, a gap-toothed child rolling her eyes at her parent’s sneaking kisses over lasagna, a moody pre-teen who insisted that she be allowed to go to base with Simon, a teenager too pretty for her own good asking her father about his time spent in the field.

You knew it was a matter of time. She took after her father more than you. When you argued with her, it was like staring into your husband’s face. Quiet determination and a total lack of regard for anything except their motives.

At 18, she enlisted. She laughed at your worried frown as her father clapped her on the back and shook her hand, “Welcome, Recruit.”

Her training with the SAS was supplemented by her father, making her truly a force to be reckoned with when put against her fellow recruits. She began bragging to you on her phone calls home, telling you all about how she planted the men flat on their asses in sparring!

Then she was no longer a recruit, but a fully enlisted member being sent onto missions with real gunfire and real danger.

You had never been one quick to prayer, even when Simon was in the service but that changed when your daughter started getting sent all over the globe in order to serve her country, until she makes one final journey home.

Simon stops eating at the table. He can’t bear to watch you sit there, eyes staring into nothing. Any words his mouth could form wouldn’t fix this. How he groomed your daughter for military duty from the cradle. Which of those trips to base was the one that had lit the spark that destined her for service? Was it one too many war stories told to her in the cradle when he was explaining where he had been? Why he hadn’t heard her first words, but that he was here now and ready to hear her talk his ear off.

You start to slowly leave the kitchen table: Perching yourself on the sofa in the living room, watching the corner she usually sat in.

Simon stops sitting in his recliner, opting instead for his office. He can’t watch you stare at the empty seat even if he had been doing the same.

It comes to a head nearly a month after her burial.

“Why can’t you look at me Simon!”

His head whips around, you hadn’t spoken much for weeks and now you were yelling at him, just this side of hysteria.

“I lost my daughter and now my husband can’t even look at me! I’m hurting Simon! I never wanted her to enlist, but you had to play war hero! You always had to be her hero and now she’s gone Si! She’s gone and I’m losing you at the same time!” Your tears are overflowing now, you’re swiping at your eyes and trying to not let them travel down your cheeks in a losing battle.

Simon’s mouth is agape, “Dove, I-”

“Don’t ‘Dove’ me! You haven’t talked to me Simon! You haven’t held me! You haven’t tried to tell me it’ll be ok and that we’ll get through this! We haven’t even slept in the same fucking bed together Simon!”

He had hoped you wouldn’t notice how he had opted for the uncomfortable loveseat hidden in his office. He had hoped you were too lost in your thoughts and grief to notice.

“Simon I can’t do this with you if you won’t help me. I need a break. I’m living with two ghosts now.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod fanfic #simon riley #grave writes

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lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache · 11 months

Text

Crossed

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

You never were able to sleep all that well, knowing that your best friend was out all night fighting crime, and out all day staging unpermitted political actions, and concerts with his band. Hobie Brown did entirely too much.

He makes it a point to check in every so often so that you know he hasn’t forgotten about you. His only non-band member friend and the only one in his universe that knew about his big secret. Hobie Brown was Spider-Punk, and it was a full-time, penniless gig.

Shortly after you had become friends, you learned about his identity on accident. You were glad you did though, because it explained a lot about his prolonged absences. When he officially became homeless because he didn’t have an actual job, you offered up your place until he could get back on his feet.

That was a few months ago. Now he happily has his own flat, but spends just as much time at your own flat, if not more than his own.

So when he hasn’t stopped by or called in a week, you were worried. You know that he got called to Spider Society HQ to deal with some anomaly threat, but that was a week ago. Normally he’d be back by now, or would call you mid-fight just to check in.

You’re in your cotton shorts and an oversized tshirt while you watch a scary movie in the living room before heading off to bed. You likely won’t sleep well anyway, so you’re not overly concerned about potential nightmares.

While jump-scares are a cheap way to get a reaction out of the audience, they get you every time. So when the music peaks and the demon suddenly appears on screen AND you hear a violently loud, very real noise right outside of your bedroom window, your heart jumps into your throat and you swear you can feel your soul leave your body.

Pausing the movie (there’s no way you’re gonna continue watching that tonight) you creep towards your bedroom. Slowly opening the door, you see a figure opening up your window very slowly and shakily stepping into your bedroom. You flick on the light and you immediately calm down.

“Hobie, you nearly gave me a heart attack! Where have you been!”

Hobie pulls his mask off and looks at you, and you immediately notice that his eyes seem unfocused.

“Sorry bout th’t love.”

He takes a step forward and promptly crumples to the ground.

You’re only frozen in shock for about 30 seconds, but it feels like ages. You rush forward and drop to your knees, attempting to scan him for injury.

“Hobie?? Oh my god what happened to you??”

Hobie groans and mutters something unintelligible. You immediately get to removing his leather vest and that’s when you see the blood seeping through his spidey suit. You suck in a sharp breath.

“Hobie, I’m gonna have to remove this so I can fix it okay? I know you don’t like hospitals so I’m going to stop the bleeding and see if I can fix this.”

You’re amazed that you don’t panic, as you carefully lift Hobie’s shoulders up towards you so you can peel the top half of his suit down until it hangs around his waist. Carefully leaning him back into a flat position on the floor you gulp. It’s a lot of blood. You’re hesitant to leave him but you have to grab the first aid kit and some towels from the bathroom. You run there and back and immediately press the towel to the gaping wound that stretches from his brusing ribs to his lower side of his stomach.

The minute you apply pressure his eyes fly open with a gasp and he tries to sit up.

“Hobie, Hobie stop” he looks panicked and disoriented. “It’s just me, love.” You adopt the nickname that he calls you hoping it’ll snap him back to reality.

It has the desired effect, and he winces as he slowly lays back down.

“That bloody hurts y’know th’t?”

“I know,” you look down at the towel which is thoroughly soaked through and replace it with the next one. ��I can’t get the bleeding to stop,” your voice pitches up towards the end of the sentence showing how worried you are. “And I’m certain this needs stitches.”

Hobie peers at you, pain still clouding his vision. He manages to lift a hand and place it over yours. “No.. hmph, no hospitals.”

You sigh. What seems like hours (it was really only twenty minutes) you finally staunch the blood and prep for the stitches.

“This’ll be a bit painful innit.” Hobie phrased it like a question, but really it was a statement. You brushed the sweat from his forehead.

“It will. I’ll try to be as gentle as possible.”

You chew your bottom lip as you begin the sutures. Obviously you want to get it done as fast as possible, but it also has to be done right. With every pull you can feel Hobie tense up as he tries not to flinch.

His breathing is ragged so you try to distract him by getting him to talk.

“You know, I was worried when I hadn’t heard from you for a couple days. I know you don’t believe in consistency but I had a feeling something was wrong when you never checked in… how did this happen??”

Hobie squeezes his eyes shut as you pull the needle until this portion of the stitch is taut.

“Just the usual ‘azards that come wit being spidey,” he grits out.

You scoff. “Hobart Brown, in the last two years that I’ve known you, you’ve never even come home with a scratch.”

“We’ve had a bit of a multiverse crisis.. s’why I been gone for so long”

You hum in contemplation as you make your way through the last few stitches.

“What happened?”

You tie off the thread and disinfect the area again, as Hobie tells you all about Miles Morales and Miguel and The Spot.

“So these canon events happen to everyone?”

Hobie averts his eyes. “What of it?”

It seems like a touchy subject, so you decide to leave it alone. Just because your friends, doesn’t mean you’re entitled to know every little detail about him, just like he doesn’t know every little detail about you.

“C’mon.”

You help Hobie up off the floor, and lead him to your bed. His arm immediately crosses his middle holding his aching ribs. Hobie starts to protest, saying he’ll just head back to his flat.

“Hobie, please lay down. I want you here so I can make sure you don’t rip your stitches, and you’re not swinging to your place.”

“Aye I’ll do it, but not b’cause you told me to.”

Once he lays flat on his back you go change into some not blood soaked clothes. You decide to toss all bloody paraphernalia in the dumpster outside, so you slip on your sneakers. Not five minutes later, you’re perched on the edge of your bed.

“Miles seems like a good kid,” you say absentmindedly.

“‘e is, jus’ wanted to fit in wit the likes of us.”

You grab his hand. “I’m proud of you.”

He raises a pierced eyebrow at you. “For wha’?”

“Helping Miles try to stop this.” You rub your thumb across the back of his hand, the shock of finding Hobie the way you did starting to wear off, and a deep sense of unaddressed dread starting to set in.

Hobie shakes his head. “He betta stop ‘is event, or I got all a these stitches for nothin.”

Your thumb stops moving and you squeeze his hand.

“What does that mean?”

Hobie’s silence is VERY loud.

Finally the puzzle pieces start to click into place.

“Nothin’ love, I jus-“

“Hobart Brown, is this ridiculously deep laceration from Miguel O’Hara?”

Hobie winces at the deadly (deceiving) calm in your voice.

“Uh it’s possible-“

“I’m going to kill him myself.”

As if a higher power was listening to you, Hobie’s watch activated requesting he return to HQ.

“Perfect!”

“Love it’s prob’bly a trap-“

Too late. You reach across for his other wrist and slap the button that opens the portal. One minute you’re in your apartment, and the next you’re on your first interdimensional travel field trip, with Hobie right beside you.

———————————————————————————

Crossed Masterlist

#hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie my beloved #light angst #part 1 of idk how many #hobie brown atsv #atsv hobie

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footballffbarbiex · 8 months

Text

Same Time Next Week

player: trent alexander arnold words: 1335 request and warning: 500 + words - you/your - Smut - Smut with her asking him to cum on her face and him hesitating at first even though he really wants to.

Trent is almost breathless before you as you dip and bob your head, filling your mouth with as much of his cock as you possibly can while one of your hands covers the rest of the final inches to pretend it’s part of your mouth; ensuring that every last inch of him is stimulated. Your other hand is cupping and massaging his balls, an action which had him almost buckling his knees as his vision had all but burst into white noise. His eyelids had grown heavy as he’d bitten down on his lip and resisted bucking into your mouth, knowing you’d stop at the first sign of him trying to take control once more.

“I swear each time you suck my dick, you try to make me cum earlier and earlier.”

“It means I’m doing it better each time then,” you grin, holding his cock at an angle and remove the hand from the base of his cock, instead putting it at the head and lick from the bottom to the top in one long motion with the flat of your tongue.

“Fuuuuck,” he hisses and licks his lips hurriedly, not wanting to miss a single second. You make perfect eye contact with him as you do it again, taking your sweet time before swirling your tongue around the tip and lick away the few dots of pre-cum that’s gathered.

“Trent?”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to cum on my face tonight, baby.” You say it in your sweetest of voices and try not to laugh at his expression. He’s wide eyed, lips parted in shock as he tries to work out if you’re simply trying to get a reaction out of him or being serious. “Yes? No?”

“You’re not being serious. I’m not falling for it.” But he has. Hook, line and sinker. You see the way he swallows hard, his breathing has his chest rising and falling faster and his cock twitches. You remain silent, your hand pauses on his cock while the hand below keeps playing. He can’t make a logical decision while you’re doing this and you know this, making it a little cruel to do so.

“Are you gonna cum on my face or not, T?”

“Fucking hell babe, you keep talking like that and I will.”

“Good, that’s what I want,” you reply, your hands moving back in sync again and you keep your eyes fixed on his face.

You always thought Trent looked magnificent during sex. There was just something that blossomed within him during these moments that simply wasn’t there any other time. The way he’d switch between taking control and trying not to lose his own was something else and this, with your confession of need, he was on a very thin line between teetering into losing control.

“Tell me you want it too,” you try again, desperate now to get him to admit he wants this. “Because I’ve thought about it. A lot.” you add before swirling your tongue around the head once more and taking it between your lips.

It wasn’t a complete lie, you did think about it. He’d been happy to cum everywhere else. Over your back, your ass, over your tits and down onto your belly until it pooled in your belly button. He was more than happy to turn your body into a J. Pollock canvas but the question to finally claim the last piece had just never been uttered.

“Please let me cum,” he whimpers, such a beautiful sound from someone who towers above you and leaves you feeling very much in control in this moment.

“Where?”

There’s a hesitation, a loud swallow that you can see from your knees as you peer up at him before he finally says, “I want to cum on your face.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” you grin and the growl that sounds makes its way from his chest, a low, deep rumbling that goes through him. You remove your hands, replacing them with one on his thigh and the other just at the base to help angle his cock perfectly as you sink your lips down his shaft. With each bob of your head, you take a little bit more of him an inch or so at a time.

Spit gathers rapidly in your mouth, occasionally dribbling out from the corners of your mouth and dripping down onto the rest of his shaft, acting as a lubricant as you continue to suck his dick. When your gag reflex threatens to kick in, your throat muscles tensing and contracting and threatening to expel him from your body.

You keep going, taking shallow sucks of him when it becomes too much and only pick it back up again when you feel comfortable, determined to get him there as quickly as possible now. His eyes never leave your mouth, watching as your lips envelope him until he has no choice but to put his hands on your shoulders and pushes you off him.

“I’m not far off,” he says, waiting until you make yourself comfortable before he takes his dick within his grasp and begins to stroke. Trent focuses primarily on the head and first few inches, stroking several times before rounding the head with his palm - biting his lip as he does so from the sensitivity. You wait patiently, your pussy clenching and begging to be touched which you hope will come once he has. The tip of his cock deepens with colour each time his hand pulls back up and you find yourself almost hypnotised by his motions.

“I’ll try not to get it in your eye,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Or up my nose,” you add and smooth the hair from your face, not wanting a hair disaster from unconventional hair gel.

His hand increases its speed, the sound of skin on skin as he quickly strokes himself, only for his legs to begin to tremble and it’s now that you close your eyes. You’d love nothing more than to watch as he finally climaxes, but the chances of it indeed going in your eye stops you. You’re left listening to his soft moans and the way his breathing becomes more and more unsteady.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck baby,” he all but mewls and just as you debated a chance opening of your eyes, you feel the first spurt of warmth hit your cheek. The rest follows in quick succession, dripping over your cheeks, lips and from your chin onto your chest and tits. It’s warm, sticky and messy and you’ll absolutely need to be cleaned up and helped with that.

As the euphoria begins to lift for him and your eyes flutter open, thankful there’s nothing there to stick them together and burn, he quickly comes to his senses. “Wish you’d said before, I might have been able to get something beforehand to help.” Trent wants to chuckle a little but each time he looks down and sees what he’s done, he can feel his softening cock wanting to twitch back into life. “Stay.” he commands, not that you wanted to move because the drips were running into one another and creating a steady stream between your breasts.

When Trent returns, he comes with wet clothes and towels, before kneeling down in front of you and uses the towel to wipe your skin down whilst trying not to smear it too much. By the time the damp cloth hits your skin, it’s a welcome feeling - though the thought of Trent helping to clean you up, even if it was because of his mess, it feels very intimate.

“Thank you,” you give him a smile as he kisses you on the forehead. “Same time next week then?” You ask cheekily and receive the much needed laugh from him to break the seriousness that’s washed over the two of you. “Help me up? I might let you give me two orgasms now instead of one.”

“Just two? Nah, I don’t think so…”

#trent alexander arnold one shot #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold drabble #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold fanfiction

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 ao3

There’s a different kind of disbelief on Steve’s face when Hopper walks in. His eyes flicker, and when he sucks in a sharp breath, Eddie realises that it’s some form of grief.

“You’re really back,” Steve says, and his voice is flat like it’s been hollowed out with shock; it must be one thing to hear the news secondhand compared to actually seeing it with his own eyes. “Where—where were you?”

The question is vulnerable in its simplicity.

Hopper sighs before smiling, bittersweet. “Hell,” he says, and there’s an odd kind of laugh underneath.

Eddie has the recurring feeling that he’s only operating on half a story, if even that. It’s strange, to know that everything of the past week was barely scratching the surface in the grand scheme of things.

Hopper fixes Eddie with a sudden, almost piercing kind of look—then it fades as he half-nods to himself. It gives Eddie the distinct impression that he’s somehow passed some kind of test without knowing he was taking one in the first place.

“Do me a favour, Munson, and get El some lunch?”

“Oh, uh.” Eddie blinks. “Yeah, I can—”

And then Hopper throws something to him. Eddie catches it, realises it’s his wallet, and has to suppress a nervous peal of laughter. Oh, if his fifteen year old self could see him now—getting the Chief of Police’s money. Voluntarily.

Eddie has to bite his tongue to stop himself from hysterically asking Hopper, “Are you sure?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve hide a smile behind his hand, like he can read his thoughts.

El nods at the candy bars on the table and says, with gravitas, “We will come back for dessert.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, obviously.”

Eddie pauses, subtly raises an eyebrow in question. Steve tilts his head down in a little nod.

“Okay,” Eddie says to El, “lead the way.”

He turns back reflexively just as the door is swinging shut, sees Hopper pulling up a chair by Steve’s bed. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but he can’t avoid hearing them.

“You gonna talk to me, Harrington?”

“It’s—it’s over now, right? Not much to say.”

Another sigh. “Come on, kid. Shit like this—it eats away at you.”

“… All right.”

They order the same: burger and fries which are halfway decent, at least. It’s when El pulls her tray closer that Eddie sees the number on her wrist.

Jesus.

He has to sit down quickly, feels a little unsteady, and El gives him a questioning look before picking up a fry.

He doesn’t ask; he doesn’t want to. She seems so… light, despite everything.

So he makes a show of trying to squeeze ketchup and mustard out of the plastic bottles, acting like they’re made of lead, until El snorts water through her nose.

“Did you just mix them together?” El says, eyeing the sauce on Eddie’s plate with distrust.

Eddie shrugs; it’s a childhood habit he hadn’t noticed he’d fallen back into. “Yup. Look.” He takes a fry and dips it in the orangey sauce, wields it like it’s a paintbrush. “I’m an artist.”

“You are very strange, Eddie Munson,” El says with unconcealed delight.

Eddie’s plan is just to linger in the corridor when they get back, not wanting to disturb Hopper and Steve if they’re still talking, but him and El end up meeting Hopper just as he’s leaving Steve’s room. El ducks under his arm and runs through the closing door, but Eddie hangs back.

“Uh, your…” Eddie says awkwardly, then hands the wallet back to Hopper. “Thanks.”

Hopper shrugs away the word, then opens up the wallet. “Sorry, I used to have—just gotta double check it’s still—” he mutters, half to himself.

And it’s not the money he’s checking, but a tiny photograph, tucked into one of the sleeves. Eddie just sees a glimpse: El with her hair much longer, and Hopper fuller in the face.

They look happy.

“Gotta reconvene with Joyce,” Hopper says. “She’ll be up as soon as she can. As long as,” he nods at Steve’s door, “he’s not too tired.”

Eddie nods, but he kind of gets the feeling that Steve wouldn’t ever be too tired to see either of them.

Hopper claps him on the shoulder, which is an overall surreal experience. “Hey. You did good, Munson.”

“You paid for lunch,” Eddie says obtusely.

But he knows at least part of what Hopper is really driving at. And, in truth, he thinks the praise is unwarranted.

Of course I’d be there for him.

After everything Steve has been through, anything less isn’t an option.

- “Hey, El?” Steve asks. There’s a tiny speck of chocolate at the corner of his mouth, and it makes Eddie smile whenever he glances his way.

He let El take the couch while he perches on the window sill—if he presses the side of his face to the glass, he can just about see the hospital entrance. There are two people a little distance away from the front doors, talking with their heads close together; he thinks it must be Hopper and Joyce.

El snaps a piece of chocolate in two. “Hmm?”

“Hopper, is he—um, is he okay?”

El catches Eddie’s eye, throws a piece of chocolate to him, then smirks when he fumbles the catch. “Yes, he is okay. Why?”

“I just thought he looked… tired,” Steve says carefully, which is probably a kind way of saying he looked like death warmed over.

El looks at Steve. “He is tired,” she says. “He’s sleeping a lot, but he’ll be okay. It’ll just take time.”

They’re parroted words, Eddie realises—most likely from Joyce Byers, if he had to guess.

Steve relaxes a little at her reply. “Good… that’s…” He scratches distractedly at his face, then feels the chocolate mark and flushes slightly.

Eddie looks away with another smile.

He frowns when he notices the view outside again: Joyce is using emphatic hand gestures until Hopper gently holds her by the shoulders, then he’s drawing her in and kissing the top of her head.

“Sleep is good,” El goes on. “I slept for a whole day after—after Henry, and... My body was… sore and it helped.”

“Sore?” Steve echoes with a thread of alarm. “El, God, if it—if it was hurting you, then you—you need to be careful, you shouldn’t have—”

“No,” El says, incredibly firm.

“El—”

“No,” El repeats, and the room seems to drop several degrees.

Eddie remains frozen in his seat, heart in his throat. However Steve’s sentence was going to end, it would’ve no doubt horrified him.

“You were hurt,” El says. “You weren’t careful.”

“El, that’s—I was trying to—”

“You weren’t careful with yourself,” El says, and maybe it’s the boldness of it that has Eddie holding his breath.

“That’s different,” Steve says, but he’s looking down at the floor.

“Friends don’t lie,” El returns, and it sounds like an oath.

Steve looks up at her—closes his eyes for a moment, then nods.

When El speaks again, her voice is quieter, softer, but still just as firm.

“I couldn’t let it happen, Steve. Everyone would miss you. It… it would have hurt too much.”

Eddie looks out of the window again, but the view is blurred. His eyes are burning.

“Come here,” Steve says hoarsely, and when Eddie turns back, they are holding each other’s hand tightly like they’ve made a silent, solemn promise.

#the self sacrificial steve agenda #steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #el hopper #jim hopper #eddie and el #steve and el #eddie and hopper #steve and hopper

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inmyheadimobsessed · 1 year

Text

Go Easy On Me

pairing: scotty ✘ black!reader

summary: dean introduces you to his friend when your shower needs fixing and you find yourself being drawn to her rather quickly.

word count: 3564

contains: fluff, reader making scotty flustered, scotty being her anxious, shy, sweet, emotional self

tags: @verachii @szalipcombo @rxcently @coolestgay @widowmakker @fetchyourlife @blackgcomica @shurisbbymama @bestfriend491 @simp4iwaizumi

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: i honestly don't know how i feel about this. i think it's kinda cute i guess, and i can see myself writing a pt. 2 if y'all would want that. i just wanted to write something cute for my baby scotty cause i need her to be taken care of lol. enjoy <3

"Ah fuck!" Your body jerked back when you stepped under the ice-cold droplets raining down from your shower head. Third time this week. You had no idea how much more of this you were willing to take. Cold showers in the sweltering London heat were doable, but it was mid-December now, and freezing your tits off was not an option.

Shutting the water off, you wrapped your towel around your body and headed across the hall — this routine of showering at Dean's every afternoon before work was getting old. You didn't even bother knocking; the door was always open anyway.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, again?" Freddie lowered the toast from his mouth mid-bite.

You rolled your eyes, "Yes, again."

"We ought to start charging ya for using up all the hot water."

Dean appeared out of his room then, smiling when he saw you, "Oh babe, is your shower out again?"

"And you leave your hair all on the walls!"

"Shut it, Freddie!" Dean turned back to face you, "When are you gonna have that looked at?"

You sighed; you did need to get it checked out. You'd discovered that your flat was the only one in the building with this little water issue. "The coffee shop only pays so much, Dean. I have bills, rent."

"Well, babe, if money is the only thing stopping you, I told you my friend would be more than willing to do it for free. She's like a lesbian Handy Manny."

The offer was tempting, and you were desperate, but the idea of not being able to pay someone for their service was not one you enjoyed. "I don't know, Dean. Maybe if I knew–"

"Well, speak of the devil! Scotts, there's someone I want you to meet!" Dean's tone was chipper, and you whipped around to follow it. Your eyes landed on a short-haired cutie at the entrance. Fighting your smile at the sight of her was impossible, like her presence warranted a big grin.

You stuck your hand out, and she shook it timidly. "Uh, I'm Scotty."

"Hi, Scotty." Her obvious averting of your towel-clad body was adorable. Her baggy jeans and flannel practically swallowed her whole under her coat. Anxious eyes wandered the open living space, attempting to focus on something, anything, that was not your half-naked frame.

The small thrill it brought you was something you hadn't felt in a long time. You were rethinking your stance now; maybe letting Scotty fix your shower wasn't such a bad idea.

Your smile morphed into a smirk when you caught her eyes scanning you for a split second before she ripped them away. "Scotts, the shower in the flat across the hall is on the fritz. You think you can check it out?"

You bit your lip, smiling slyly, "You don't have to if you're too busy. I can't pay you."

"Um, y-yeah. I can do that, can't right now, though. Got work in an hour." She looked you in the eyes for the first time since she'd arrived, and you couldn't help but swoon at their deep brown shade. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is perfect." You beamed at her, and she blushed. There was a tug of something brewing between the pair of you. It was irrational and immediate, given you'd only met, but it was something you felt needed to be explored. "I'm off to your shower Dean, hopefully for the last time. If Scotty here is as amazing with her hands as you say, I will be enjoying my own hot water come tomorrow."

Her eyes were saucers at your words, and she chuckled nervously, watching you saunter into the bathroom. You switched your hips as you walked away because of course you did, and feeling her stare bore into your back was the reward you were hoping for.

•••

A knock at your door jerked you awake. Groaning, you rolled over to glance at the time, 9:09 a.m.

“Hello? You in? It’s Scotty. I’m here about your shower like we talked about.”

Fuck. You scrambled out of bed, tangling in your covers and falling to the floor.

“You alright in there?” She sounded concerned on the other side of the door. You hadn’t forgotten she was coming; you just didn't think she would be this early. Working the late shift did not do wonders for your sleep schedule, and now Scotty was going to see just how much of a toll making coffee took on you.

When you finally reached your feet, you peeped in the mirror. Under-eye bags and dark circles, great. “Yeah, just need a second!” You scurried to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. At least now, your morning breath wouldn’t melt her face off.

You opened the door, and she flinched, but soon a gentle smile decorated her features. “Hi.”

“Hi. Sorry, I know it's early, but this was the only time I could come. I told my boss I was gonna be late today. The call center I work at is pretty lenient, so I could get away with that. Then I came straight here. I hope that's okay.”

You giggled at her nervous rambling, and puppy dog eyes, begging for forgiveness for a crime she did not commit. “Scotty, it's fine. Come in.”

“Okay. Cool, cool.” She crossed your threshold and stood awkwardly in your living room, toolbox clutched between her fingers, awaiting further instruction.

Leaning back against your couch, you eyed her. Scotty’s curious eyes roamed your home. They traveled around the space until they landed on you. She let her eyes trail your long legs to your large exposed thighs in your pajama shorts. A stifled breath lodged in her throat at the sight of your boobs perched in the t-shirt you wore.

You couldn't help your grin at her shamelessness in checking you out. She was unaware of you watching her until her eyes found yours. Caught. She knew it, and her shy blush was evidence of that: shock, embarrassment, remorse — emotions filtered through her rapidly.

“Is it appropriate to check a client out?”

Scotty cleared her throat, stuttering in attempts to speak. “Uh, I’m sorry. I-I wasn't… I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m–” She fiddled with her fingers.

“I'm quite comfortable with you watching me, Scotty.” You leered at her.

She shook her head, “Sorry. We can get to the shower now, is the bathroom through here?”

“We can get to the shower, but I don't think we would enjoy ourselves much, babe. Freezing water and all that. Unless you're into that sorta thing.”

Her brows shot up. “No! That's not, that's not what I meant. I meant I can get to fixing your shower now.”

“Well, why didn't you say that, silly? Had me thinking you had ulterior motives coming round my place this early.” Your smile was bright, the complete opposite of hers; small and unsure.

You led her to the tub and turned the water on. “It goes in and out usually, but the past few weeks, it's just been cold.”

She stepped closer, putting her hand under the water to test it. “Do you know where your water heater is?”

“No? Am I to know that?” You scrunched your nose, and she laughed a little.

She shook her wet hands off in the tub before turning the knob. “Usually you would, yeah. I'm sure that's the issue here. Your water pressure is good.”

“If I were a water heater, where would I be?” You tapped your chin dramatically, scanning your apartment. Her little giggle brought to life the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering and begging to be released.

“I think it's just here.” She said with a smile. Scotty turned the handle of a door you had no idea existed. You’d been in the flat for about three months, yet discovered something new about the place daily. Today: secret door leading to water heater.

She stepped inside the tiny space, examining the large tank. “Can you hand me a wrench out of my toolbox, please?”

“Right, cool. Which one's the wrench again?” The reaction on her face was priceless, and you bit back a chuckle. “I know what a wrench is Scotty, relax.”

Soft fingers brushed the back of your hand as you handed her the tool. Funny, working with her hands regularly did not strip them of their tenderness. Your butterflies grew increasingly impatient, needing to meet the person responsible for waking them. She let her fingers linger longer than necessary, and you were not complaining.

You found yourself enjoying the feeling of her touch. It pulled you in, and it made your insides tingle.

Watching her work on the heater was only making things worse. She'd removed her flannel, leaving her in her white tank top. Scotty’s muscles flexed with each movement, droplets of sweat forming on her upper arms and forehead. You exhaled a long breath when she bit her lip, deep in thought about what to do next. Not only was she adorable, but she was fucking sexy. She was very skilled at what she did; intricate, focused. It drove you mad.

She smirked and flipped a screwdriver in her hand triumphantly. “I fixed it!”

“Sorry, what?” She entranced you, and she was none the wiser. Scotty repeated herself, and you shook your head. “Oh! Do we check the water now?”

“Yes.” The back of her hand swiped across her forehead, and you considered fainting. But instead, you followed behind her to your bathroom, watching as her shoulder muscles contorted.

Sitting at the tub's edge, she turned the water on, repeating her movements from earlier. A large smile broke free on her face as she beckoned you closer. “It's hot.”

You sat next to her, tangling your fingers in the warm stream of water flowing from the tap. You could moan at the feeling, and you did. You glanced up at her eyes, feeling that tug from yesterday return. They twinkled before you, and you smirked.

“It is hot.” Ambiguity loomed in the air with the steam. Clueless as ever, Scotty only smiled.

You stood, throwing your arms around her excitedly. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I could kiss you right now. Oh my god!”

Her eyes darted around the room as she scratched the back of her neck. “Um, it's nothing, really. I didn't do much.”

You batted your eyelashes at her. “You did more than you know, Scotty. You actually kinda saved my life, yeah? I wish I could pay you back.”

“Oh, you don't have to. I'm just happy to help.” And you knew she meant that. Scotty seemed like the type who wanted to make others happy. It was a beautiful attribute to possess, indeed.

“Tell you what. Come by my work later, and I’ll give you a free coffee and scone on the house. It's the least I can do.”

She grinned at you in that timid way you found yourself growing fond of. “I’d like that.”

Staring at her and into those beautiful, kind eyes filled you with something you were unaware you were missing. Warm and gooey, and you refused to rip your stare away from her. Scotty’s gaze was just as intense as your own. She felt the pull too, and it was apparent she had no clue what to do with it.

“You're adorable. You know that?” Your whisper knocked her off-kilter, and you shook your head. You knew you wouldn't get a response, and you were fine with that.

She eyed your lips, as you spoke to her. “I’ll get your things for you.”

You gathered her tools as she watched you, back pressed against your front door. She stalked your movements, and her breathing hitched when you bent over to pick up the last one.

“I hope you don't gawk at paying customers that way. Not sure it'd be good for business.” Standing in front of her, you could see the longing swimming around in her eyes.

She dipped her head as she took her toolbox. Lightning fingers struck you again, and you gasped. “Sorry.”

“And what exactly are you apologizing for, Scotty?” Your smirk was playful, and you knew you had her.

She gnawed on her bottom lip sheepishly, tripping over her words. A sight you wanted to see as often as time would allow. Trapping her was entertaining, teasing her — enticing. “I-I should get to work.”

“Mmm. You should. I’ll see you later, right? At the Brew Box?”

She only nodded, and she was out the door.

•••

“Have a nice day!” Your excitement was forced and fake. Irritation consumed you as you handed the customer their hot chocolate. You didn't hate your job, not entirely, but you did have a strong disdain for the customers filtering in and out.

None of them was the short, shy mechanic who fixed your hot water issues that very morning. So they did not matter.

Scotty never specified when she would be by, so every time the bell above the front door dinged, your head shot up in hopes it was her. It never was, and your mood soured. Your shift dragged on slower than usual, and your co-workers noticed your detached state. By eleven, it was closing time, and Scotty had not shown. There was a sting in your chest. You couldn’t understand why someone you met only yesterday standing you up felt so… off, but it did.

By the time you got home that night, you were so tired you could pass out. Ridding your body of your coffee-stained uniform, you climbed into your shower. Hot, soothing water massaged and embraced your skin, working out the tension built up there. The streams crashing onto you made your mind wander to Scotty. Thoughts of her consumed you as you cleaned yourself under the water she made possible. You were out like a light when you put on your bonnet and wrapped your covers around yourself.

Pounding at your door intruded on your dreams. “Fuck off!”

“Um, it’s Scotty.” The softest voice you’d ever heard. It jolted you out the bed and to the door. When you opened it, there she stood. “Hi.”

It took everything in you not to squeal at the sight of her. She wore a blue and black flannel today: the same green coat and the same baggy jeans. You smiled wide. “Hi, Scotty.”

Scotty fumbled with her fingers, something she obviously did when she was nervous. “I noticed that the hinge on your bathroom door was loose when I was here yesterday. Oh, and there’s a chip in your sink. Thought I’d fix them? If you’re cool with that.”

Her eyes darted around, avoiding yours altogether. You nodded, stepping aside to let her in. “You trying to spoil me, Scotty? Coming all this way to fix a creaky door and a chipped sink?”

“I only live ten minutes from here.” Her cluelessness baffled you, honestly.

Knowingly, she shot straight to the bathroom with her toolbox. Your heart jumped a little at her knowing her way around your flat and noticing little things that needed fixing. Something you wouldn’t even care to notice. Attentive. You liked that.

“How's the water treating ya?” She placed the screwdriver between her lips and pushed onto her tip-toes to reach the top of your bathroom door. Nothing she said registered when she looked like that. It was evident Scotty had zero clue about the effect she had on you, how worked up you got from watching her tinker with her tools.

She stared at you expectantly with a head tilt when you didn’t answer. “It’s still working fine, right? You need me to take a look at it again? Because I can, I’ll have to call off work but that’s okay. I was–”

You shook your head, “What? No, the water is fine, babe. Perfect, actually.”

“Oh. Okay then.” She tried hiding her blush, but it lingered long enough for you to catch it.

“Missed you yesterday.” Even though your voice came out small, it still managed to make Scotty flinch.

She was working on your sink now, sanding the chip she fixed. When she emerged, she wore a frown. “I'm sorry. I wanted to come, I just–I. Something came up.”

“It's okay, I understand.” You walked towards her as she cleaned her hands with a rag. Fuck, even that was sexy. Watching her get in between her fingers, her palms. You almost moaned out loud.

She hadn't noticed you approaching, and she jumped at the visual of you directly in front of her. “So jumpy. It's cute.” You poked her stomach, and she quivered under your touch.

“I um… Are you going round to Dean’s party tonight?” She blinked, shutting her eyes tight as she exhaled.

“Parties aren't really my scene. I prefer more intimate settings. Allows for more… connecting. Don't you think?” The tension bubble enveloping the both of you was delicious. Scotty rattled at the closeness you two shared; you ate it up. Your chest was pressed against hers, and you could feel her heartbeat. Thump. Thump.

The rhythm fell in sync with the fluttering in your stomach. Sawdust mingled with the scent of her subtle cologne, and it made you dizzy. Her signature smell, you’d discerned.

She scratched her eyebrow with her thumb, “Maybe you uh, you should come. It could be fun. I’ll be there.”

“Are you asking me out?”

Her brows shot up then, and you couldn't help your smirk. “W-What? No. I'm just, I think you could have fun. You know Dean, he always makes everything fun.”

“Fun is one word you could use to describe Dean, I suppose.” You leaned in close enough to kiss her, and her breathing stuttered, “But I'll come. Since you'll be there.”

A grin was all she shot back, a flustered one. And you knew then, your mission was complete.

•••

You’d been at the party for over two hours, and there was no sign of Scotty. Sweaty bodies brushed up against you and the looped club mix did your head in. “Wanna dance?” Alcohol-laced breath wafted up your nose, and you gagged, pushing through the crowd of strangers. You did not need to keep suffering through this, so you left.

Decompressing from the loud music and gross people, you leaned back against the wall. A deep sigh escaped you.

“Hi.” A melody you knew well at this point. Your eyes traveled up to hers. There was an apologetic smile on her lips, and you folded in seconds.

You grinned at her. She looked cute, as usual. “Hi, Scotty.”

“Sorry about being late. You must hate me, huh?” She looked like there was more she wanted to say but couldn't find the words.

You felt a pull, so you moved in closer. “Hate you?”

“Yeah. Cause I keep standing you up, and I don't mean to. It's just, I wanna come. I wanted to come to your work yesterday, I really did. But I was too nervous. So I didn't come and I thought, you must really hate me now. And I had to make up for it, that's why I came by this morning. Even though I missed work, I didn't care.”

You grabbed her hands because she was sobbing, and it scared you. Dams of tears flowed from her eyes, and seeing her cry made your heart ache. “Scotty–”

“I think you're beautiful; I do. And I’d like to get to know you. But I’m scared because the last time I thought someone was beautiful, I messed it all up. And I don't wanna mess things up with you. And it's okay if you don't like me, I won't be mad.” Her tears grew heavier. She was hysterical.

“Oh babe, don't cry. I like you, Scotty, and I would love to get to know you as well.”

She sniffed, but the streams still came, “I’m not used to feeling like this. I just– I need you to be patient with me. I don't want you to hate me; please don't hate me. I’m sorry.” So much emotion in her words. The way Scotty felt things was deep — woven into her bones.

“If you give me a chance with your heart Scotty, I promise I’ll only ever be gentle.” You caressed her damp tear-stained cheek, and she nuzzled into the hold. Her attempts to bury her face in your palm confirmed your suspicions: she was starved for touch; she craved it. Scotty craved your touch. She clung to you when you pulled her in for a hug, refusing to let go. The pads of her fingers dug into your shoulders, it stung, but it was a breathable sting.

Your hands pressed against her face and you looked her in the eyes, swatting her tears away. “I’ve got you.”

You gently pushed your foreheads together, needing her to calm down and breathe. Peppering tender kisses to her face seemed to soothe her best, and seeing her relax soothed you.

This kind soul wormed her way into your heart with swiftness and ease. But you felt she had that effect on everyone she came in contact with. So much love with nowhere to expel it, and hesitant to receive it. You were going to change that. You would handle her with care.

#scotty x reader #lyricswriting #vivienne scott #vivienne scotty #letitia wright fanfic #scotty banana #myworks #scotty x black!reader #vivienne scott x reader #vivienne scott x black!reader #shuri x fem!reader #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #scotty x black!fem!reader #vivienne scott x black!fem!reader

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jungle-angel · 1 year

Text

Afternoon Bedrest (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Bob’s definitely not feeling good after a week and a half away from home. Lucky for him, he’s got the best caretaker in the world.....you

You sat out on the porch, the sun shining high in the sky, listening to the waves crashing on the beach and the click of your knitting needles repeating like a typewriter. You heard a truck pulling up just mere minutes later, the little black kitten springing forth from your yarn basket before you caught him in time.

“Oh no,” you warned him, lifting him right into your lap. “No you don’t. You’re waiting until the man of the house gets up here.”

You watched as Bob made his way up the short walk, but quickly noticed he was without that usual happy spring in his step that never seemed to leave him. He looked tired, almost zombielike and a little pale. “Bobby?” you called to him, doing your best to restrain the kitten in your hands.

Bob hobbled up the stairs, wincing a little bit. “Talk to me Bob,” you told him. “What’s wrong?”

“Got bad stomach cramps,” he groaned.

“Here, let’s get you into the house,” you told him.

You guided him in before carefully setting the kitten right on the cat tower. Tank tried to jump up on Bob, but one light tap on the nose told the burly Rottweiler that this was neither the time nor the place.

You led Bob right into your shared bedroom, helping him into the bed and stroking his hair. “What happened?” you asked him, placing a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

“We were out on a training exercise,” Bob explained sleepily. “Desert survival.”

“Did you eat something?”

Bob nodded as you carefully removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand. “Nothing but MREs.”

“Oh,” you said. “I see. And what exactly was in them?”

“Cheese.”

You bit your lip, quickly biting back a laugh that threatened to get out. You knew, from years of experience, what it meant when someone ate the cheese in the MRE packets.

“Ok,” you said with a smile. “Lie on your back and I’ll get in with you.”

Bob grimaced as he scooted over, a bolt of pain shooting through him, only receding when he was able to relax on his side of the bed again. ”Mind if I um...?”

The pleading look on Bob’s face said otherwise.

“Bob, sweetie, it’s just a check for appendicitis.”

He whimpered reluctantly as he stripped off his t-shirt and laid flat on his back. Maybe it was a slight chill in the room, but Bob shivered when he felt your warm hands rubbing along his lower belly. He didn’t realize either that your touching had nearly put him to sleep, leaving one arm draped lazily across his eyes.

“You’re full of shit,” you chuckled.

“C’mon baby, I’m in pain,” Bob groaned. “I don’t need this right now.”

“No, you’re literally full of shit,” you explained. “How long were you eating that MRE mac’n’cheese for?”

“Bout ten days?”

“Oh my God,” you blurted out. “Bob, seriously?”

“It was the only thing that tasted halfway decent.”

You smiled and shook your head before kissing both of his cheeks which were warmer than hell. “I’ll take you to the doctor later.”

“No, no baby,” Bob pleaded. “No doctor.”

“Bob, if we don’t get this fixed you’re gonna wind up with an obstruction and will probably have to have surgery.”

Bob finally gave in at the mere thought of it, letting you do the work and forcing himself to relax. It wasn’t easy just laying there while your fingertips massaged his abdomen, but after a while, Bob started growing sleepier than he had before.

“Thank you baby,” Bob murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you too Bob,” you answered. “I always will.”

You kissed his stomach before crawling back in beside him and resting your head on his chest as his arms coiled around you. He kissed the crown of your head before the two of you fell asleep, completely oblivious to the world around you and deeply comforted by the closeness you felt with each other.

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

The base was busy as ever with pilots coming and going, taking off and landing for training, yet the rest of the Daggers found themselves heading for the hangar to help the new recruits with their own training.

Phoenix noticed Bob heading up to the hangar, lively as ever and eager to get to work. “You’re real happy this morning,” she remarked.

“Never slept so good in my life,” Bob said happily as he sauntered off to go and put his things away in the lockers.

Phoenix raised an eyebrow and felt her phone vibrating in her pocket a moment later. She pulled it out to find a message from you splayed across the front.

Phoenix: Bob’s real happy this morning. Last I saw, he looked like a zombie stumbling to the truck

You: Gave him a little TLC last night after he got home. He’s definitely feeling better

Phoenix: That’s great! Glad to hear!

You: Yeah, the only thing though is I’ve gone through at least ten cans of Febreeze in the last half hour or so. Our bathroom could pass for a demilitarized zone

A loud laugh flew from Phoenix’s throat the minute she saw your message and the photos of you wearing a gas mask that Bob’s grandfather had used in Korea. “What?” Bob asked. “What’s so funny?”

“Look what (y/n) just sent me!”

Bob looked at the pictures and turned beet red. “Phoenix if this goes viral.....”

“Oh believe me we’re gonna give you so much grief for this one,” she laughed.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #natasha phoenix trace #dagger squad

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ayelbee · 1 year

Text

MORE THAN LOVE | K. MBAPPÉ | 3

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Summary: Sometimes even love is not enough for relationships. But it's fine because you are over it. But getting again in a contact with his younger brother wasn't smart.

TW: French translation from a translator

Notes: This was the first time and also the last time I tried to write dialog in french, and never again! So with this I wanna apologize to french speakers, because i belive it is gonna be shit. Also I'm curenntly stuck at home for another week with a sickness, so I'm opening requests now!

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You didn't want to leave your bed that day, but you also knew that you needed to get up. Ethan was supposed to come in two hours, so you had two hours to make yourself look less miserable than you actually were.

It took you another thirty minutes before you were able to get out of your bed. With a few curse words you made your way to the kitchen first, and then to the bathroom where you got ready.

You actually didn't do anything special, because, at the end of the day, Ethan was your little brother, he knew how you looked in the morning, just in his brother's shirt and his giant sweatpants. But you wanted to look good for yourself, to show Ethan how his brother's absence in your life didn't have any effect on your life.

Which obviously have.

After changing from your PJs into some hoodie with sweatpants you spent the rest of the morning dancing to your favorite songs to light up your mood. Which worked as always.

As you were singing the last words of Sexy Bitch, you heard the doorbell ring. All out of breath, you went to the door to open it. There you found Ethan with a giant grin on his face.

"Did you hear that?" you asked as you moved out of his way to enter your flat.

"Little bit" he laughed "hello by the way." you got closer to him and you hugged him.

"Hey." as the hug ended you look at him from top to bottom. "You grew up again, right?" you didn't remember him as tall as he was now.

"Or you got smaller" he laughed "where can I put my jacket?"

"Funny." you rolled your eyes as you pointed to the hook on the wall.

"Will you get me a home tour like in those youtube videos?" he asked with a giant grin playing on his face.

"Well there is not much to see, but sure if you want to." you talked while he was taking off his shoes.

"There is a bathroom" you pointed to the door on his left side "that door next to them is the toilet and there is my bedroom." now you were pointing to the right side. But my favorite room is there." you started to walk thru the last door, turning back to Ethan as you reached the middle of the room. "This is my kingdom," you said as he turned around your living room connected to the kitchen.

"This room screams your name." he laughed as he started looking out from the windows.

"Why?" you sat down on a couch.

"The plants, the painting, the big windows." he sat next to you. "I really like the view tho."

"The view is actually the reason why I chose this flat." your apartment was situated in the courtyard, which made him really calm.

"Menteuse," he said with a playful tone. You just furrowed your eyebrows.

"What?" you didn't get why he called you a liar.

"You can't tell me that you choose this flat because of the view, you lived in an apartment with a view of the Champs de Mars." Ethan raised his eyebrows and fixed his gaze on you.

"That's true but this apartment has its own vibe, you know? It is cozy, the view makes you calm, and it is my safe place. No stress, no worries, just silence." Kylian's apartment was giant, it was fine when the two of you were there, but when he was away it was too much. You felt so alone there, that was the reason why you always did your best to spend as little time as possible there alone.

"Kylian was your safe place back then." you felt like he was interrogating you. Trying his best to notice every change in your expression when he mentioned his brother's name.

"What is this about Ethan?" your voice stayed calm, but your eyes looked broken almost watery. Ethan noticed. Ethan always noticed, he was a good kid. He knew you for a long time and ever since he know how you reacted, he knew the look when you were happy when you were looking at his brother with so much love in your eyes, but he also knew the look when you were moving out of Kylian's apartment. He knew it all, but he still wanted to have you back as his sister. As a person who will be there when his brother won't. Who will go to his games, take him to his favorite restaurant, and call his brother afterward to tell him how he played.

"I miss you Y/n." his expression changed as he realized how uncomfortable he made you. "I miss KyIian when he was with you, he is different now. It is not like when you two didn't know each other. I miss you in my life, in OUR lives." he started to play with the bottom of his shirt. You didn't have any words to say, as you would probably begin to cry, so you just leaned to him and wrapped his hands around his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry Ethan." you began. "I miss you and your whole family too, even Kylian. But there is nothing I can do about it. There were reasons why we didn't work out. Because we both deserve better. We deserve someone who will be able to give us their 100%, and who will support us 24/7. He needs someone who will be able to attend to the maximum of his matches and I need someone who will understand how important I is my work. That I am not the type of girlfriend that will sit all day alone at home just waiting on him to come from training. At least I am not like that now. I have my own dreams and goals, and as much as I would love to support him in his dreams I need someone to support me too." first tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it down so Ethan didn't notice. "I know we didn't see each other in the past months, but if it is what you want, I would love to be in a contact with you again." you finished.

"He doesn't know that I am with you now. He doesn't even know that you called me on my birthday Y/n, because if I told him he would be begging you right now to come back." he paused for a minute, making you think about his words. "He is a piece of shit since you two broke up, but it is even worse since the world cup. He was talking about you the whole morning."

"What?" as much as you need more time to process everything he was talking about, the fact that Kylian was today talking about you couldn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah, you know he sometimes sleeps at home, since he is complaining about how much is his apartment empty and silent without you and how that apartment is not his home, since the day you left. And he told me that he saw you yesterday, he was telling mum how beautiful and happy you looked, and how he wanted to start running after you when you closed the cab. But he also told us that you deserve to be happy, which you definitely are without him."

"I didn't know that Ethan." you had no idea how much the break up of the two of you affected Kylian. You thought that getting over it was much easier for him than for you. That he had these beautiful models in his DM's who were there to help if he wanted.

"I'm sorry for bringing him up Y/n." Ethan felt sorry for ruining the mood, he knew that there is no reason why to talk about his brother. As much as he wished for you two to get back together, he knew that this is not his business. Kylian should be the one to try and Ethan even though he tried, seeing you know he was sure that he didn't do a thing to get you back.

"It's fine Ethan, but let's watch Captain America now, ok?" you put your hand on his shoulder. "Do you want ice cream? I bought your favorite flavor from Ben and Jerry's." you tried your best to erase that tension from the room.

"Y/n you are the best." a smile appeared on his face.

"I know Ethan." you get up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.

------------

After two hours and The First Avenger later you were eating some pasta you order for your lunch earlier. You told Ethan about your trip to London where you went in December, about the winter wonderland, which you were sure he would love. Ethan was also talking about his football season and about the World cup, but he didn't mention Kylian. Which you were glad for. He was talking about Qatar, its food, and how hot it actually was there. But he was also talking about his birthday party with his friends and everything that happened in his life since August.

It wasn't tension or awkward as it was at the start. This was chill, and fun as back in the days when the two of you used to hang up. The talking of you two was interrupted by Ethan's phone.

"That's Ky." his face froze the moment he looked at the screen.

"It's fine you can take it." you smiled, knowing that this won't hurt you.

Ethan looked at you like he didn't want to believe you. "I really mean it." you slightly laughed. Ethan looked at his screen for a few seconds, looking like he was considering his options, but in the end, he picked up that call.

"Hey." Ethan wasn't a good liar, even from the tone he put on from the start you could tell that she was really nervous, and it would be even weirder if his own brother wouldn't notice.

"Hé, et si je t'emmenais déjeuner et qu'ensuite nous allions au cinéma voir le nouveau film Avatar ?" [Hey, how about I take you to lunch and then we go to the movies to see the new Avatar movie? ] you could hear Kylian's voice from the phone.

"Je suis dehors avec les garçons en ce moment.." [I'm out with the boys at the moment.] Ethan didn't sound convincing at all.

"Vous semblez être nerveux." [You seem to be nervous.] as you heard Kylian's laugh your heart ached. "Et si on y va le soir ? tu seras toujours avec les garçons ?" [ What if we go in the evening? Will you still be with the boys?]

"Je vais probablement rentrer tard." [I'll probably be home late.] he nervously chucked making more doubts in Kylian.

"Tu es un terrible menteur, mon frère." [You are a terrible liar, brother.] he laughed again. "Tu es avec une fille ?" [Are you with a girl?] Ethan's expression changed to a terrified face.

"Vous pourriez le dire comme ça." [You could say it like that.] Ethan tried to laugh as he looked scared into your eyes. You did your best not to burst out laughing.

"Alors je vais arrêter de te déranger, je t'appelle demain et tu me diras tout sur cette fille que tu aimes." [So I will stop bothering you now, I'll call you tomorrow and you will tell me everything about this girl you like.] After this sentence Ethan said goodbye to Kylian as soon as possible, hanging the phone up before Kylian was able to say goodbye back.

"That call was a nightmare in a real life." Ethan signed as you finally burst out laughing.

------------

The rest of the day went great, you pushed Kylian into the back of your mind. You enjoyed it too much. You even promised Ethan to go to his next game, if Kylian won't be attending. Ethan even joked about giving you his jersey which you could wear to that game. And you laughed. You lauged more than in the past months.

When Ethan left you ended up staring from your window into the courtyard. Now was the moment when Kylian got back into you mind. You didn't like it at all. Because since you came back from Christmas he was there almost 24/7 leaving you more and more confused.

But today you understood why he was there. He was there because of the things that Ethan had told you.

"Kylian was your safe place back then."

"He is a piece of shit since you two broke up..."

"He was talking about you the whole morning."

"...that apartment is not his home, since the day you left."

"...But he also told us that you deserve to be happy, which you definitely are without him."

Were you acually happy without him?

------------

Tag list: @nightlockcornucopia, @she-lives-in-her-dreams, @sorceresski @m4k444 @mrs-dasilvasantoss

#kylian x reader #kylian imagines #mbappe psg #mbappe imagine #light angst #pov #ethan mbappe #football imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #more then love #kylian mbappe

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thewiz9062 · 2 months

Text

Sleepover Melodies:

Hi this is a oneshot based on my au enjoy

NOTE: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO CANON IN THE SLIGHTEST. An accurate description of this au is that I took every playtime.co poster art and promotional material from the game and lit up the rest of canon in a bonfire. Meaning that EVERY character is part of one big cartoon. Thats it. No bigger bodies project, no child souls, no experiments, just a depiction of a cartoon. PLEASE do not ask me to do anything suggestive with anyone.

Now, a week ago, this would have sent chills down Catnap's spine. Boxy usually wouldn't be around for another three days, and Bobby stopped by earlier, not that she even knew where he lived. No one should have known his location.

There was a knock on the door.

But alot can happen in a week.

"Catnap, whew! I almost thought there was another cabin I should be looking for out here!" The excitable dog greeted him once he opened the door. Catnap stepped out of the way and gestured inside, inviting him in.

After a short moment, Dogday got himself settled and sat on the floor with catnap. "So....uhhh..." Dogday started, "what now?"

Catnap gave him a stare similar that clearly meant 'really?'

Dogday scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "Okay, I know, I know, I set this up so I should know what to do, but I only asked Kickin what a sleepover was!"

"You guys look a lot less energetic." Dogday stated. Bubba gave him a small 'mhm' in response while Kickin just groaned with his face flat on the table. "What happened?"

"We were supposed to have a sleepover, but SOMEONE decided it be such a great idea to pull an all-nighter." Bubba said, giving the most passive-aggressive side eye to Kickin.

"HEY! YOU STAYED UP TOO!"

"Well, one of us were gonna have to be the sane one, and with the way you were acting, my role was obvious."

They looked like they were about to go on another friendly snark-off, but dogday cut them off with a sentence straight from hell.

"Uh, guys? What's a sleepover?"

"All they did was tell me that you stay over at a friend's house for the night. It slipped my mind!" Dogday defended himself, but Catnap looked unimpressed.

Dogday deflated at his expression, and Catnap was quick to shoot him a look that could be described as an apology to rectify his mistake.

"No no, it's okay, we can fix this!" Dogday scanned the room. "We can just, uh, make our own rules! Yeah! That'll work!" He got up and started to take a closer look at the things Catnap had.

...There wasn't much.

Maybe a stray plate or something similar, but other than that, Catnap's cabin was just barely filled with the necessities to live.

Time passed, and eventually, it got dark. A single candle lit up the room. Dogday was still trying to find something to do while Catnap sat in the middle of the room, tired. Dogday was about to go report and possibly apologize to Catnap for the uneventful evening, but stopped in his tracks when he heard... singing?

He turned to see where the source was coming from, and lo and behold, it was Catnap. Dogday quietly went over to where Catnap was seated and sat next to him. Catnap seemed to be in his own world at the moment. Dogday listened until the end before complimenting him. "That was amazing!!"

Catnap basically leaped, not having noticed Dogday's presence. He took a moment to recall events and then proceeded to bury his face in his hands due to embarrassment. "No, no, it was really good! Do you do that often?" Catnap shook his head no. "Do you know any more?" Catmap paused for a moment, as if thinking, then nodded.

"Can you sing it?" Catnap looked surprised at the question. "I meant it when I said I liked it!" Catnap thought about it and decided to sing again.

Once the song was finished, he looked over, and Dogday was sound asleep. He got up and grabbed the two blankets he had. He covered Dogday, and after a few moments of difficulty, he fell asleep as well.

When Dogday was about to leave in the morning, he felt the need to apologize, looking down at his feet. "Um, I just wanted to say sorry for, you know, taking you out of routine for something I had no idea how to even do-"

"No."

Dogday looked up at Catnap, who was giving him one of his rare smiles. "I enjoyed it."

------------

My children jsysbsisgd I enjoyed writing this even tho tumblr nearly deleted it from my drafts

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #catnap #dogday #my art #art #oneshot #alternate universe #fanfic

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mingyuluv4567 · 3 months

Text

Bangchan x Fem Idol reader!

Warnings- fluff, Making out, hickeys, dirty talk..

Descripción- Bangchan leaves a hickey on readers neck. fans notice a hickey on Readers neck during a live!

@ Chan recording studio 4:56 pm JYP company

“ chan- i really have to go jia is going to be waiting for me.” You spoke. However Chan was to busy leaving kiss down her neck to respond, finally Reader had enough and pulled Chan off. Chan pouted a little bit “ Reader.. but I miss you we haven’t seen each other in two weeks…” You sighed knowing her boyfriend was right, you had been really busy with your new comeback and it was doing really well.

You looked at Chan,and could tell he really missed you . You felt really guilty for leaving him but she didn’t want to get in trouble. “ I know channie but I’ll be back after the live, it’s just an hour I promise I’ll be back when it’s over okay?” Chan was silent but slowly nodded his head. You got off Chan lap and kissed forehead one more time. “ I’ll be back okay?” Said reader

“ See you..”responded Chan. You felt really guilty has she closed the door. You knew your boyfriend wanted to spend time with you but due to busy schedules they couldn’t. You check your phone and saw it was 5:03.’ Fuck the live started 3 minutes ago..’ you saw a bunch of text messages from her band mate jia.

Reader walked to the live room quickly, she opened the door and saw jia talking to the fans. “ Yeah I liked the food it was really good.. where reader?.. oh she went to the bathroom.” Jia responded. ‘ thank you jia I own you sooo bad’ reader thought. Reader walked in the room and sat next to jia. “ Hii guys sorry I was kinda late it never happen again” you responded. The chat filled up with ‘it’s okay’ , ‘hiii reader’ and ‘ don’t be late again.’ Just crazy and normal fandom stuff.

You looked at jia and she gave you a “really” look back.. you turned slowly to the camera and started talking about your day and what you did of course leaving Chan out of part of your talking, you also started answering questions about your comeback and your concerts. It went on like this for 25 mins.

It was started to get hot so you moved your hair back from your shoulders ( i am so sorry if you don’t have long hair.😭) The chat was normal for a sec until it blew up. You and jia looked concerned and confused you didn’t know what was happening. Finally the comments slowed down a little bit you were able to read one comment.” OMG IS THAT A HICKEY ON READERS NECK???”

Your eyes widen in shock, jia started reading the comments and turn to look at you. You heard a ding and saw you got a text for Chan. It read “ oops🙂” you were gonna kill him. So for the 25 minutes you explained to your fan that’s your burned your self with a curling iron yesterday that’s why it’s still so red. It was believable to fans because your latest Instagram post was you with wavey hair. (My curly hair people I am so sorry you guys can change that)

finally the live ended and you say your goodbyes. Once the live was off you fell back on your couch. “ reader what the heck did Chan do that?” She looked at you in a smirking way you look at her with a flat face “ of course he did, he must has did this while we’re kissing..im going to kill him..” Jia laughed.” Good luck with that I’m going out see ya” she said as she packer her things up. You waved and then got up your self to go see your boyfriend

You walked down to Chan recording room knowing he be there you knocked on the door. You heard a “come inn” you came in and looked at your boyfriend who had a smug on his face. You came in and close the door. Chan got up from his chair and pulled you over to the couch and sat you on his lap. You look at him” chan..why would you do that.”

He smiled and hugged you tight” because I missed you duh!!” You smiled back but fixed your face to serious right away” Chan I know you missed me but-“ your sentence got cut off and before you can finish it Chan started kissing you. You were suprised but gave in a few seconds later. You guys pulled back still in a daze.

“ I know I was wrong to put a hickey and not remind you before you left” he said pouting a little bit. You chuckled and grabbed your boyfriend face.” Chan I don’t care if you leave hickeys on me just let me know in advice okay?” You said smiling. Chan smiled back and answered with an okay. For the rest of the night you guys chilled and talked to each other with Chan occasionally kiss your neck and you.

That’s the end I hope someone reads it😭 it’s gonna get better when I do a lot my writing will become better so i hope this was good and okay 😭

#skz #bang chan #Chan #chan x reader #bangchan x reader #reader #kpop imagines #kpop #idolreader

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ninebluehearts · 2 years

Text

Fix it

Summary: Of course normal household appliances break while Marc is away in Cairo. Now you're gonna have to fix them yourself.

Word count: 1,075

Warnings: An innuendo or two

A/N: This is gonna be strictly a Marc fic because I feel like we don't see him enough tbh. Enjoy :)💕

____________________________________________

"FUCK!"

First the shower head needed to be replaced. Then the dishwasher was clogged. Now, the kitchen sink has a fucking leak. You swore that if you had to hear the constant drip, drip, drip, one more time, you were going to loose your mind.

You really didn't want to leave all of these tasks for Marc to do when he got back from his mission with Khonshu in Cairo, and you also didn't want to pay for a plumber to come out and fix it. So naturally, you took it upon yourself to fix everything.

And everything was going fine so far. After what felt like 10 trips to the Home Depot and what probably was 200 Youtube videos, the shower head was replaced and the dishwasher was unclogged.

But then there was the sink. Everything that could've gone wrong, went wrong. It was supposed to be an easy fix. All you had to do was turn off the water, loosen the packing nut, and install a new cartridge. That's all.

But no. Instead, the damn packing nut broke off because it was so rusted. Then the brand new cartridge you just bought didn't fit. And, to top it all off, you couldn't get the second to last screw to line up properly, and ended up screwing and unscrewing it about 20 times.

It was ten o'clock at night, you hadn't eaten dinner yet, and you just wanted to go to bed. But Marc was supposed to be coming home tomorrow and again, you didn't want to just leave this for him, so you did your best to power through and finish it.

Four tries later with no luck, you sunk down to the ground and let out an almost inhumane groan. At this point, you were tired, sweaty, and frustrated. And not the good kind.

As you contemplated calling one of your guy friends to come and fix the sink for you, almost as if on cue, the familiar rattle of Marc's keys unlocking the front door echoed throughout the flat.

You didn't know if you should feel relieved or anxious. On the one hand, he could fix the sink for you and you could finally eat something and go to bed. But on the other hand, you knew he would be upset that you didn't call him sooner.

And honestly, you didn't care anymore. You were fine with him lecturing you, just as long as the damn thing got fixed.

"Honey, I'm home!" Marc called out to you, smiling like an idiot because he got to use the well-known catch phrase from the cheesy 50s movies you would watch with him from time to time.

"Here." You called back to him, lazily lifting your hand up so he could find you.

Marc saw the dismantled sink with random tools scattered along the counter, and then you, sitting against a cabinet with your head leaned back, your eyes closed.

"Sooo, what have you been up to this week?" Marc asked as he lowered himself onto the floor next to you.

"Well, you know, just a few thing around the house." You said as you huffed out a laugh. "Nothing other than the usual, I suppose."

"And you usually take apart the sink at-" Marc glanced at his watch, "half past ten on a Thursday night?"

"Ohh yeah, you just don't pay attention when I do it." You said, tilting your head up towards him, grinning.

"Right, right. Well, I guess I'll leave you to it then." Marc patted your thigh, starting to stand up.

"No wait!!" You quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back to you. "Marc, please fix it for me! I can't get this damn screw and- and I just-" Frustrated tears started to well up at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.

"Shh, I know, I was just kidding, baby." Marc snickered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "But if you really want me to fix it then you're gonna need to let go of me, huh?"

So you did. And he immediately got to work, showing you where you went wrong and how to avoid doing it again next time.

It really was a simple fix. You just didn't realign the right screw with it's matching hole.

Barely ten minutes later and the sink was leak free. The relief you felt when Marc had announced that it was fixed was indescribable. You had pulled him into a tight hug, chanting little 'thank you, thank you, thank you's in between the kisses you were littering across his lightly sunburned cheeks.

"You know.. I did tell you to call me if you had any issues.." Marc said as he gently pulled you away to look into your eyes.

Here it was.

You sighed, rubbing your hands up your face. "I know. But in my defense, I just wanted to take some of the stress off of your shoulders. I didn't want you to come home and have to fix a million things."

You watched the curls on Marc's forehead gently bounce with his head as he nodded. "I really appreciate that, but-" Marc lifted you up and over his shoulder, hugging your legs to prevent you from falling.

"I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you. You shouldn't have to worry about that stuff." He said as he dropped you onto the living room couch.

You let out a disgruntled oof as you landed, glaring up at him.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, sugar.'' Marc climbed on top of you, burying his face in between your neck and shoulder. "Come on. Did you miss me?" He mumbled.

"You know I did, dear. Always do." You replied. Raking your fingers through his tangled curls.

Marc lifted his face up and crossed his arms on your chest, resting his chin on his arms. "And you know I love you, right?" He leaned forward and gently kissed your chin.

"You know I do, Marc. And I love you, too." You placed your hands on the sides of his face, gently pulling him closer so you could kiss him.

"And is that because I'm your personal handyman or..?" Marc asked, grinning in between kisses.

"Maybe.. But you're also pretty to look at, so that helps."

Marc rolled his eyes. "Seriously though, just call me next time. I'm happy to help no matter what."

And before you could even answer, Marc leaned down and kissed you again, pressing your body against his.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #moon knight #moon knight imagine #oscar isaac #Marc is a handyman #don't come for me #marc spector x female reader

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halokarii · 8 months

Text

/// BSD Spoilers up to Ch. 110

So I realized something interesting about the teaser for the next episode of the anime: Dazai getting shot by Chuuya is very explicitly shown in the preview.

At first I thought "Oh yeah they just wanted fans to know that we'd be getting to chapter 109 in this episode already". But then I realized that it's actually super weird that they would "spoil" the big twist (Dazai's potential death) in the teaser already. That feels a little bit like if had chosen to show a clip of Chuuya drowning in episode eight (which they obviously didn't - it was supposed to be The Big Thing of that episode, it was meant to shock anime-only fans and leave them with a cliff hanger that would have them come back the following week). So why did they make the decision to show (what one would assume) The Big Thing of episode 10?

And it's not even a subtle hint that only manga readers would pick up on. We flat-out see Chuuya shoot Dazai in the head in 4K colorized version.

People have theorized that episode 11 would actually wrap up this arc by showing unreleased manga chapters, which is a theory I'm inclined to support (what's the alternative? Storm Bringer crammed into 20minutes? Chapter 110 but it's just Aya falling for 15 minutes? A beach episode?).

However, one twenty-minute episode feels way to short for wrapping up an arc as big as this. We literally have four different POVs to follow simultaneously - five if you count SKK and Fyodor/Sigma in Mersault as seperate POVs. Half of the cast is currently bleeding out somewhere. So we'd have to assume that the last episode is gonna be significantly longer (probably fourty minutes, if you want a more or less clean wrap up off all the loose ends). Which in turn leaves us with the question - why not just do an episode 12 and thus bring this season to a standard BSD length?

But let's assume this issue gets fixed somehow.

Narratively I think it would make sense to leave episode 10 with the absolute lowest point of our protagonists. Which I guess you could say it does but that leaves 110 and Aya's little Beastzai moment out. It would be odd to start the episode with Aya jumping because her POV needs to be the first one resolved (since Bram controls the vampirism). It also wouldn't fit with the assumed episode's theme of regaining the upper hand in the battle/ with things looking better for our protagonists.

In conclusion, episode 10 will likely feature Aya's jump as The Big Thing for anime-onlys to be shocked about and in episode 11 we'll get unreleased content and the big finale of this arc.

Is this a theory I personally like? Not really because it leaves the possibility of an incredibly rushed ending to this overall fairly good arc. It would also take away at least a couple of months' excitement for new manga chapters away since these would already be featured in the anime.

But I think it is the best option we are left with. Unless Bones pulls a Haha Jk on us and there is no 11th episode.

I don't usually post rambles like these and my thoughts are probably all over the place so forgive me if this is too confusing T_T

#bungou stray dogs #soukoku #bungou stray dogs season 5 #bsd #bsd spoilers #idk if this makes sense at all #but i felt like pointing it out anyways #because i can't shut up

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laundrybiscuits · 6 months

Note

(#50 please if you're still doing the spotify meme, and if not: hi!)

And I will not become / A thorn in my own side / And I will not return / To where I once was / Well I can break through the earth / Come up soft and wild

“That flight was absolute murder,” Nancy sighs, barging through their front door without so much as a by-your-leave.

She looks good. She’s wearing something casually fashionable, the kind of thing Eddie doesn’t even know the name of; it looks expensive, but knowing Nancy, it probably isn’t. She’s just got a knack for making just about everything look classy as hell.

“Hey, Wheeler,” says Eddie. “Can I get you a drink? An alibi, maybe?”

Nancy shakes her hair out of her face and laughs, reaching out to squeeze Eddie’s waist with one arm while she tries to wrangle her suitcase with the other. Eddie hugs her back and helps her lift the suitcase over the threshold.

“Jeez, this thing weighs a ton. How’d you get it up the stairs by yourself?” he huffs.

“I wasn’t by myself,” says Nancy.

“Oh, did you bring the new boyfriend? Do we get to meet this one?”

Steve appears in the doorway, hauling another massive suitcase with a plastic bag hanging from his elbow. “Not exactly,” he says. “Ran into Nancy on the way home from the store—got back just in time to see her going head-to-head with the elevator.”

“Shit,” Eddie sighs. “I thought you told her it doesn’t work, last week when she called?”

“Oh, come on,” says Nancy, flopping down on the couch with a groan. “It’s been a long flight and I forgot, sue me.”

Steve reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. “Long flight, huh? Let me fix you a drink, and Eddie can help put your bags away.”

“Oh, can I? Generous of you, Harrington,” Eddie grumbles, but he’s already pushing some junk around to make room in the hall closet. “Wheeler, I’m putting your stuff in here, so you’re not gonna be tripping over it in the living room.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” says Nancy. “And, um. For your information, the new boyfriend and I actually split up.”

“Sorry to hear that,” says Steve, coming back in with a glass in one hand and two beers dangling from the other. He passes the glass to Nancy, who smiles up at him; Eddie snags one of the beers and takes a slow sip.

Nancy’s talking to Steve about the split, sitting up and becoming more animated as she gets into it. Her hair’s been flat-ironed down to a sleek, silky finish and she looks incongruously glamorous in their living room; Eddie can picture her just like this on some talk show couch, describing her thrilling memoirs or something like that.

She’s always been a pretty girl, but New York’s turned her into something else. Eddie’d bet none of her fancy city friends can even smell the cornfields on her. She still looks like the Nancy Wheeler he’d known all those years ago, but she’s a version of herself that’s been polished to a bright shine. More certain of herself; happier. Strong but delicate in a way that Eddie will never be, not in a million years.

The light of stars was in her bright eyes, Eddie thinks wryly, and goes to join them on the couch.

—

“I wonder if Nancy thinks we look the same,” Eddie says around a mouthful of toothpaste.

Steve nudges him over to spit in the sink and glances up. “Like…that thing where people start to look like their dogs? Is this about me growing out my hair a little? Because I told you, it’s not gonna look anything like yours—”

“No, asshole,” says Eddie, sticking an elbow into his side to shut him up and also to reclaim the sink. “I didn’t mean the same as each other. But you should cut your hair. And wait, did you make me a dog in that analogy? Never mind. I just meant, I wonder if Nancy thinks we look like the same people we were a few years ago.”

“Are we…not the same people we were a few years ago?” Steve sighs. “No, okay, I get what you’re saying. Like how Nancy looks different now.”

“Exactly, yeah.” Eddie rinses out his mouth and leans against the counter as Steve does the same, casting a glance back out to where Nancy’s lightly snoring on the pull-out mattress in the living room.

“I mean…she’s got a New York look, right? Maybe we have a Chicago look. We’ve been here longer than she’s been there. We’re, like, city people now.”

“Okay, first, stop telling people we live in the city, we live in a freaking suburb of Chicago and you know that. Second…it’s not the same, is it? I don’t think Nancy Wheeler would think it’s the same.”

Steve shrugs. “Sure, yeah. Sounds like she’s got a pretty exciting life out there. Except for the boyfriend. Jeez, that sounds like a mess.”

“Heartbreaker Nancy Wheeler strikes again,” says Eddie, taking aim with an imaginary sniper rifle. “Watch out, boys.”

“It’s—” Steve frowns, glancing away. “I know we haven’t—talked about stuff, or anything. But you know I don’t…you know I’m not gonna get back together with Nancy, right?”

Eddie looks at him then in the yellow light of their bathroom, and it turns out he does know, after all.

“Yeah,” he says, and takes Steve’s hand. Squeezes it once, like a promise. “Like she’d have you with that unkempt mane of yours, anyway.”

“Shut up, I’m not cutting it,” says Steve, but he doesn’t let go either.

Send me a number between 1-100 and I'll write a ficlet based on the corresponding song from my Spotify Wrapped! It will definitely be gay and may possibly be musical theater

#hey you :)#yep I’m still taking numbers until further notice! there are a few more in the queue but I'll try to get to all of them eventually #using the time-honored tradition of not thinking too deeply or doing any editing at all #this song is on a playlist of dreampop-ish stuff I sometimes use as bg noise and tbh I'd never paid attention to the lyrics before this #ask games

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domripley · 4 months

Text

Love to Show You Off, Show What’s Mine

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff/Reader; Carol Danvers/Wanda Maximoff

Prompt: Exhibitionism - Kinktober2019

Warnings/Tags: Mechanic Nat, Exhibitionism, Daddy Kink/Sir Kink

You were excited to see Natasha - well, nobody could really blame you, you hadn’t seen her in a month. With college being miles away from the little town, you couldn’t wait to come back to see her. Although, knowing that Monday’s were one of her busiest week days, but she had texted you to come by right when you get to town, anyway.

So, you decided to stay back at your parents house for a few hours, wanting to surprise Natasha with two dozen of her favorite cookies. Having actually met her by luck - you both have a mutual friend: Clint. So when your car broke down, he pointed you into her direction. She fixed your car for free, even refusing when you were handing her the cash. So, you baked her a dozen cookies as a thank you. You were thankful that she at least accepted them.

Ever since then, you’d bring her a fresh batch every time you had come back from out of town. This visit was no different, a container in hand, you walked into the shop. Surprised to not only see Natasha, but also Carol and Wanda. “Hey, (Your Name)!” Natasha said, putting her wrench down onto the ground next to her work space. Jogging over to you, she pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you, Nat,” you whispered as she kissed your neck.

“I missed you too. Let’s go to my office, and catch up.”

Once in her office, Natasha took off her hat, setting down on her desk. You handed her the container of cookies. Natasha sat them down, “Thank you so much, but I’ll have to eat them later. I wanna taste something much better.” she winked, and you looked out the window to see Carol and Wanda still working on the same cars they had been working on when you got there.

“Nat… Wanda and Carol are both out there,” you whispered as she began to clear off her desk. You really didn’t care if they watched, or even joined in. It had been a fantasy of yours the day you had met them, and Natasha knew it.

“Yeah? And? You know that pretty little pussy gets soaked from the idea of them watching me fuck you,” she smirked, bending you over the desk. “Bet if I touched you, you’d be soaked. You wore this pretty little skirt for me, might just leave it on you.”

Lifting your skirt up, Natasha gasped with faux shock, she laughed, “Not wearing panties? Dirty girl,” You turned to look at her from behind when her hands left your body, watching as she unzipped her jumpsuit. She was packing - she always did. Even if she didn’t plan on having sex, she felt good when she did it.

“Please, Nat-” you whined, only to be cut off by a slap to your ass.

“Please what? Tell me what you want,” she breathed, getting down on her knees. Spreading your legs further apart, she leaned. Running the flat of her tongue between your folds, chuckling as she pulled away.

“I want your strap, want them to watch as you fuck me. Show them who owns my pussy,” you admit, and Natasha leaned in to bite your left cheek.

“I’ll be Right back then, Doll. But do you remember your safewords?” she asked as she stood up. You quickly got up from your position on the desk.

“Green for continue, I’m okay. Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop completely.”

You watched as she walked around her office, going through her drawers. “You want me to show you off to them, gonna show you off real nice.” she smirked, pulling out your favorite baby blue and pink ropes

—

Having you tied to the desk, Natasha called both Wanda and Carol back into her office. The look on their faces changed from a look shock to smirks in seconds when they realized what was going on.

“(Your Name) has told me, she’d love to have you two watch. If it’s not your guises thing, we both understand and you get the rest of the night off. Well, either way you can go home early!” Natasha smiled, running her hand up and down your thigh. Wanda’s eyes were glued to your pussy, feeling your cheeks heat up when you noticed.

“Oh, we’d love to stay and watch you fuck her,” Wanda smirked, looking as if you were prey.

“Definitely.” Carol agreed.

Natasha moved seats around so that they were on the same side of your head. You watched as she pulled out her bottle of lube from her desk drawer. Squirting some onto her hand, she began to jerk off her strap - nice and slow strokes as she kept eye contact with you.

“Please don’t tease me, want you now,” you cried, and she did exactly what you wanted. Rubbing the tip through your folds, she looked over to Wanda, who was busy fingering Carol. But the blonde kept watching Natasha’s movements.

“Beg me, beg me to stretch your pretty pussy.” She moaned, pushing the tip into your entrance before pulling it away.

“Please, Please Daddy, please fuck me, I need you, need to be used.” you begged, and Natasha gave you what you needed. Bottoming out, she turned your head to the side as she began her thrusts. The lube she used was cold, but helpful as you adjusted to the size of her strapon faster than usual.

“Do you see the effect you have on Carol? Poor little bottom needs to be fucked because of you,” she laughed, continuing to hold your head against the desk. Picking up her pace, Natasha used her free hand to rub at your clit. You were growing closer, but when you heard Carol moan, you lost it. Coming with a loud moan, she fucked you through it.

Pulling out of you, Natasha slapped your pussy. Not once, not twice, three times before easily slipping three fingers into you. Curling them up, you tried to wiggle away, only for her to slap your inner thigh with her free hand. “Color, (Your Name)?”

“Y-yellow, sensitive, hurts.” You whined, and she pulled her fingers out of you. “Wanna clean your cock, Sir.” You watched as her face goes red at the title. She hadn’t heard you say it in a month brought back memories as Wanda was now watching the two of you now.

Walking around the other side of her desk where your head was, she guided you down onto her strapon. You pushed yourself to take more of the toy to make Natasha proud of you (let’s be honest, you wanted the praise too). She hummed in acknowledgement as your nose touched your thigh. Her pace picked up as she fucked your throat, pulling away so you could breathe.

“Look at you, so pretty with tears in your eyes,” she cooed, wiping them away with the pad of her thumb. Noticing you weren’t responding, she was quick to untie you from the ropes.

Holding you, Natasha spoke up, “(Your Name) and I are going to be here for awhile, you’re welcome to stay if you’d like. I’m going to have to do some paperwork before I’m able to go. Plus she’d love to spend time with two of you.” You knew Natasha loved having her privacy with you, but she knew the two of you had three weeks to be alone together. So one night wasn’t going to be a big deal.

“We’d love that!” Carol smiled, and Wanda nodded.

Natasha smiled, kissing the top of your head. “Such a good girl, doll. I’m gonna get you a water bottle, and I want you to have a cookie you brought over for me. Okay, baby? I’ll right back.” she assured, picking you up and carrying you over to the couch in her office.

You were so glad you were able to have three weeks off, you missed Natasha. So, so much.

#my writing #mine

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balkanradfem · 1 year

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Starting the journey of fixing my bike

So, last Tuesday I was biking to work and my tire just went flat within a second, leaving me to walk (difficult due to neck injury). And now I need to fix it. So, I asked the plant lady for help because she has a whole garage of tools at home, but it turns out, she's extremely busy the whole week, and cannot lend me a hand. And I've never fixed a bike tire on my own, and have no tools.

Luckily, last time we fixed a tire, I wrote down all of the steps to fixing it, so I'm thinking, I can do this no problem if I have the tools. However, it was the front tire that was flat the last time, and there's a difference between removing the front and the back tire. I have the number of the wrench written down, that I need to undo the bolts that are holding the tire, and I ask the plant lady if I could just borrow that wrench, she says fine. She brings me the wrench. Turns out, it doesn't work. So the day after, I get another wrench from her, and this one does work! However, there's a second bolt that I didn't see before, and I still can't get the damned tire undone.

So at this point I feel so bad for pestering her when she's so busy, I figure out, okay, we're gonna do this another way, I don't need the right tools we'll find alternatives. Or, maybe I can check the damage and fix it without even removing the tire completely. So I try to fill the tire with air to see where the damaged part is - and I can't find it, it deflates immediately and I can't see where it's happening. Then I think, okay, let's check out the outer tire, to see what actually caused the damage (usually there will be a thorn or a piece of glass in the outer tire.) So I check it bit by bit, and I don't find a thorn or a piece of glass, but a big slash, and material that is slashed is very very worn and thin. And this is a cause for concern, because if the outer tire is irreparably damaged, I need to replace it, or the inner tube will just get flat again and it will be even more damage. But, it looks expensive and I'm not feeling good about that. And I still can't get the tire out of the bike.

Then I pause and go research alternatives to wrenches, and finally I find one; walnut opener. I grab that thing and somehow manage to get it at the angle in which it can grab the last bolt, I loosen it, I'm excited, we're doing this, it's working - and, it turns out it's the type of bolt that just spins endlessly and doesn't get out because the bolt on the other side is also just spinning. I would need a second wrench to hold the other bolt while I spin this one. And I have zero wrenches, none, I cannot do it. I go and research the alternatives of getting a spinning bolt free and the only alternative that might maybe work is using duct tape to hold the second bolt in place, and I have some duct tape so it's worth a try, every other method requires even more complicated tools. I am planning to try this after I rest from work, I'll make an update if it works.

Feeling disgruntled that I don't have any tools of my own, and also concerned, because I watched several videos on how to repair the outer tire, but they all say it's a temporary fix and the tire should be replaced, and I am dreading it. I wanted to just fix the inner tube with a glue and a stick-on and go on with my life. I have no idea what could have damaged the outer tire so badly, I'm extremely careful to only ride the bike on safe surfaces, without any sharp edges that could damage it.

If anyone is good at bike repair or could tell me if there's a way to repair the outer bike without replacing it, I would be extremely grateful for the advice. I can sew it together using a fishing line and put duct tape in the underside but I am scared it would end up ripped anyway, duct tape isn't meant to endure the strain of a tire on the road.

#need advice #damaged bicycle #this issue is driving me out of my mind because i need that bike to function #i cannot walk :(((((((((#need help #if you're smart about bikes contact me!!!!!

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ashbye · 2 years

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🌈Hey y'all~ So I got really bored and I just started swim in school so I need something to raise my spirits you know? I have also been like really obbssessed with Fox Mulder recently. He is such a BABE man I swear to God! Anywho I felt like writing for him. It wasn't a request from anyone but my lonely heart! I was also just really dissapointed about how little Mulder x reader stories there are so I'm going to fix that! You don't have to read this story its entirely up too you. Whatever tickles your pickle man. If you do read it you can figure out more of what my writing style is like for different characters and stuff like that. This is getting really long so I'm going to end this here. Enjoy!

A Long Trip - Fox Mulder x gn!Reader

(SEE HES A BABE AND YOU CANT PROVE ME WRONG)

The clock read half past 1 in the morning. The flat was quiet other than the sound of the TV playing in the background. It had been a week and a half since you had last seen Fox Mulder, your fiancé, in person. Scully had called him in the middle of your date to tell him about an urgent case. You knew this was going to be a frequent thing when getting married to an FBI agent, but it still didn't dissapoint you any less.

After helping him pack and a final kiss goodbye, he was off with Scully on their case about murders in a small town that could be the work of extraterrestrials. It was always quiet without Mulder making his sarcastic remarks. You missed hugging him but Mulder made up for it by calling you every night and telling you about his day and the case. Scully would occasionally come and say hi.

On his last call he told you he would be coming back home tonight. Therefor you were bound and determined to stay up late into the night and wait for him. You were cuddled up on the couch wrapped in one of Mulder's sweaters and a blanket. Sleep had taken over you not long ago. Though you had no recollection of it.

The sound of a car engine stopping broke the silence. Keys jangled in the keyhole to your's and Mulder's flat. Mulder opened the door slowly, so as to not wake you. He figured you'd be in bed asleep by now. Even though he knew that you would be waiting on the couch just like you always were. When he saw you, curled up in his sweater fast asleep, his heart melted on the spot.

His shoulders relaxed as he walked over to you and started stoking your hair. The feeling made you stir and mumble tiredly "Fox?" You rubbed your eyes and Mulder smiled at you "Hey honey! I'm home." When you finally gained full consciousness you shot up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He chuckled as he collapsed onto the couch on top of you.

Mulder chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you. "What are you still doing up? I thought I told you to go to bed the next time I leave for a case." You pulled him tighter to you and mumbled into his shoulder, "You know I can't help but wait for you! I want to see you right when you get back!"

He pulled away slightly and gently kissed your lips. You hummed and tightened your arms around him, not wanting to let go. Mulder smiled and pulled away slightly. "You should get to bed." He whispered, picking you up from under your knees as you hung onto his neck. "Only if you come with me though."

The door to your room was pushed open as Mulder turned around and walked in. He laid you down and started to get up. "No! Stay with me I haven't seen you for a week and a half." You continued to tiredly babble as Mulder looked at you with pure adoration. He knows its cliche to say but you make him the happiest man on earth. He doesn't know what he did to get so lucky.

Your hand grabbed his wrist and started pulling him back only for him to step back and pull off your hand. "Hey hey its ok! I'll be back I promise I'm just gonna change my clothes." You finally allowed him to leave and settled on watching him grab pajamas and change into them. You smiled and giggled quietly. "What? Do you like the view?" He asked with a smirk on his face. You nodded while smiling and stretched out your arms for him to lay in.

Mulder plopped down in your arms and put you both under the blankets. You snuggled as far as you could into his chest, still not feeling close enough you situated yourself so you were laying on top of him. He chuckled and wrapped his arms firmly around you letting out a sigh and relaxing into the bed.

"I love you my Fox." You whispered to him slowly falling asleep. "I love you too, more than anything." After a week and a half of terrible sleep and chasing after aliens, Mulder knew that now he was home he'd finally be able to relax. So he took one last look at your peaceful face and closed his eyes for the night.

🌈Ok there you go! There's Fox Mulder! I love this man with my entire being I swear to god! Anywho if you don't read it then oh well I guess. I just did this for fun during school because I was bored. Have a good day or night everyone!

#fox mulder #dana scully #fox mulder x reader #the x files

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