#misfits fanfiction
Note
Hii can you write a nathan young fic that he really likes the reader but tries to hide his feelings until something happens makes him tell her how much he likes her
Tia💗
hey honey! I apologise for taking so long, but I hope you like it!
summary - nathan has been crushing on you since the beginning, but it takes something terrible to happen for him to finally man up.
warning - slight angst, violence (not too bad).
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
Nathan didn’t know how it had happened or why he had fallen for you, but he did. You were possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, which was messing with his mind. Ever since the storm that gave everyone weird abilities, Nathan had become protective over you. You were so cute and fragile, but the power you held was dangerous, and sometimes he feared that if you showed the wrong person, they’d take you away from him.
He had done so well hiding how he felt about you, everything was going fine, and it wasn’t like you needed to know how he felt. You would never feel the same for the cocky Irish boy anyway. You deserved better, and you were better. So why did something have to happen? Who knew that when a freak storm gave everyone powers, it would become like those American superhero movies? All of the bad guys came out of the woodwork, and for some reason, the misfits thought they had to be the ones that saved the day.
Why did you have to be so kind? Why did you have to go near that man? You knew he was dangerous, yet you thought you could help, and Nathan loved that about you, but right now, he hated it as he watched the man throw you around. He knew he could’ve easily taken your place, but his mind was stupid, not allowing his legs to move no matter how much he wanted to move them.
When the rest of the gang managed to distract the man, leading him away from your tired and bruised body. Nathan ran over, kneeling to the ground and pulling you into him. “Oh god! I’m sorry, love! Don’ die on me! Dammit, I shoulda done more to help!” Nathan strokes your cheek gently, looking down at you with sad eyes. “I like ya, dammit! Don’ die on me so I can take ya out!” He begs and pleads.
You groan before giggling softly, peering up at the curly-haired man. “I like you too, dumbass. What took you so long?”
Nathan’s lips widen into a watery smile, and he laughs. “Tank god! Taugh’ I lost ya!” He hugs you against him, and he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Liked ya since da beginnin’.”
You squeeze his hand. “I’ve liked you since the beginning too.”
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
#imyourbratzdollasks#imyourbratzdollwork#tiaask#nathan young oneshots#nathan young x reader#nathan young imagine#nathan young fanfiction#nathan young imagines#nathan young fandom#nathan young fanfic#nathan young fluff#nathan young fic#nathan young angst#nathan young oneshot#nathan young x female reader#misfits#misfits fanfiction#robert sheehan#robert sheehan character fic#robert sheehan x reader#robert sheehan imagine
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Lust and Learning
Word Count: 2.4K
Warnings: rated M for masturbation and misfits
Nathan intrudes on a private moment. Nathan and Mel watch a nature documentary.
It was the first time I’d come home since Nathan had moved in that he wasn’t there. Granted, I usually got home around midnight, but once in a while I’d actually get a lunch shift. So I was home alone, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
I dropped my bag and headed to my bedroom. I changed out of my work clothes and into a loose tank top. And nothing else.
I opened the drawer at the bottom of my wardrobe and reached to the back to grab a dildo and a small bullet of a vibrator. I set the dildo next to me on the bed and put the vibrator to work on my clit. I tried to blank my mind, but I couldn’t stop the thought of a certain set of curls in between my thighs. I let out a gasp as I let my first orgasm run through me. I pushed my fingers inside me. Fucking hell, tiny fingers, ugh, never get the job done.
I grabbed the dildo, “hello, friend.” I pushed the head of it against my lips and closed my eyes. I imagined Nathan’s moans as I slid the dildo into my mouth. I liked him more than any guy I’d been with, and I hadn’t even had him yet. Is this wrong? Thinking of him like this? But somehow I figured he meant for me to hear him. At least sometimes. After particularly interesting conversations, he’s randomly decided it’s a great idea to conserve water during a shower wank?
I gagged as I let the end of the dildo hit my chin. I imagined him over me, fucking my mouth. His eyes squeezed tight, pulling at my hair. Moaning my name.
Ugh I’ve got to do this soon. But then if I suck him off he’s going to expect me to do more, and I don’t know if I want to do that yet. And then he’s gonna be disappointed in me and not want to be my friend anymore. Would you even call it friends? What the fuck am I even- focus, Albright, focus! You’re tryna have a wank, not a crisis.
I pulled the dildo out of my mouth and hit it against my clit a couple of times before pushing it inside me with a gasp.
He’s still not here… I let myself fully indulge in my fantasy. I imagined him on top of me, kissing me, holding me. Fucking me good. As if I even knew what that meant, I just wanted him inside me.
I moaned out as I fucked myself with one hand and rubbed my clit with the other. I thrusted my hips and moaned and gasped and whimpered.
“Oh, fuck me, yes, oh my god, oh fuck,” I moaned out loud while my eyes were shut tight, fully immersed in my fantasy.
“More, more, mmm, yeah,” I moaned to an imaginary Nathan as I fucked myself harder and faster.
I left my fantasy momentarily to grab the vibrator again before jumping back in, “I’m almost there, I’m almost there, fuck oh-
The door burst open, and I screamed.
“Who are you shagging in there?!” The very real Nathan yelled before widening his eyes to realize. Nope, just me. I kicked my legs up to try to cover myself and ended up following his eyes as his eyes followed the dildo as it fell out of me and into the floor. For about half a second, the only noise in the room was the vibrator that was now covered by blankets in the commotion.
He let out a breath as a smile never left his face, “that was… wow… I-”
“GET OUT,” I yelled back at him.
“And if I don’t?” He said as he leaned up against the doorway.
“I’ll fucking KILL YOU,” I yelled again.
“With what? Your electrical hands or your fire crotch?” He said and laughed at his own joke.
I grabbed my knife out of my bedside drawer and held it up.
“Jesus, alright, calm down,” he said and backed up before shutting the door.
I let out a breath and stared at the dildo in the middle of the floor. When am I going to find time to wash these? I found a pair of underwear and put it on and put away my… belongings.
“I got the Planet Earth box set from my mum’s” Nathan yelled from the living room, “but I don’t know if I’ll be able to focus on my polar bears after all that.”
I put on some shorts, took a piss, washed my hands, and stared at the mirror for an unusually long amount of time.
I sighed, walked into the living room, and saw a can of beer and a bag of haribo sitting up against a pillow on the pull-out couch.
“If you’re trying to bribe me, it’s not going to work!” I said as I plopped down.
“No, I bought those on the way home” he said from the kitchen and made his way into the connected room towards me, “anyway… so uh”
I crossed my arms, “what?!”
“Did you cum?” He asked, smirking at me.
I scowled.
“No?” he responded, “need help?” He thrusted his hips.
“I hate you,” I said, grabbed my haribo, and got up.
He lightly grabbed my arm as I passed him, “are you actually upset?”
“Yes! You completely invaded my privacy!” I pulled my arm away.
“Alright, alright! I’m sorry I saw your vagina,” he said.
“No, you’re not,” I said and narrowed my eyes.
“You’re absolutely right. I’m not,” he smirked.
I groaned.
“Not my fault you’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he said, and I felt my whole body go warm.
“Wanna make it even?” He continued, “I’ll get it out right now. No hesitation.” I all of a sudden was struck with the mental image of his cock in front of me, me on my knees… I took a shaky breath. And he laughed.
I shook my head, “you’re impossible.”
“I’m serious! I’m always walkin’ around here without any trousers on; it’s bound to pop out eventually. Mine as well get it over with, yeah?” He responded. Nonchalantly. Conversational tone. Like I didn’t want the floor to swallow me whole and never spit me out again.
“No!” I threw my arms up before dropping them back down. His eyes followed my tits as opposed to my arms.
“Fine,” he said, “make it a special occasion then. When you’re finally beggin’ to see my cock, I’ll make you wait three to five business days. I’ve got the image of your perfect pussy locked away for me to revisit whenever I like. I can wait until you’re ready for me.” It almost felt like there was a hint of sincerity behind his last few words, but I could have imagined it. He was hardly ever sincere. Everything was a joke to him.
I took a breath, “that’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughin’,” he said back.
I sat down on his bed/my sofa, “you just don’t seem like the waiting type.”
He sat down too, “what’s that supposed to mean?” No malice behind his voice.
“I don’t know. You don’t really talk about women very respectfully,” I said while picking at my nails.
“I’m plenty respectful! I’ve never… tried anything with you. And it’s not from lack of opportunity,” he said back.
I physically cringed, “is that the standard?”
“Around here?” He said, “yes.” He had a point.
I shrugged, “whatever. What were you expecting from bursting into my room like that?”
“Ideally?” He started, “you’d be bouncin’ reverse cowgirl on some poor bloke you’ve somehow picked up, and I’d get an eyeful of beautiful tits. Realistically? I thought I’d see some guy’s hairy arse and embarrass the shit out of you. But, ooooh,” he bit his lip, “what I got was much better. Disappointed you had a shirt on. The ginger pubes surprised me though.”
He lightly grabbed my hair and looked at it. “This doesn’t look red to me,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes at him, “fuck off.” He dropped my hair.
“Oh so you can get back to your wankin’? That door does have a lock on it, doesn’t it?” He smirked, “I think you wanted me to walk in.”
“No,” I said back, “I wasn’t thinking about the door. I was thinking about the fact that you were finally out of my damn house.”
He rolled his eyes, “God, who are you? My mother?”
“No, I actually want you here,” I smirked.
“I can’t tell if I’m supposed to be hurt or touched by that comment. Both? You like a bit of sadism, do ye?” He smiled at me.
“I repeat. Fuck. Off,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling at him, “can we just watch the fuckin’ series already?
“Fine fine fine,” he said and hit play, “scoot over I’m tryna fuckin’ see.”
The sofa had permanently been fashioned into its bed form since Nathan moved in. We were sitting off the side of it, so I threw my can of beer and bag of haribo and scooted up against the back of the couch. I didn’t notice the fact that Nathan didn’t end up sitting next to me in the moment.
I watched the telly as the earth was shown and the title card went by. It begins with telling us in so many words that there’s a fuckton more people than there was a hundred years ago, but there’s still places that hasn’t been touched by humanity.
“That’s my cock the last month and a half,” Nathan says from the kitchen in response to the whole not being touched by humanity thing.
I turned to face him from the couch, “the fuck are you doin’? I thought you were trying to see?”
He dropped a box of beer onto the couch/bed, “seen it before.” He also dropped half of the snacks in the house and two boxes of cigarettes into the bed.
“This seems a bit excessive for a Sunday afternoon,” I responded.
He finally climbs into the couch/bed, “I’m not playin’ fuckin’ barman today. I just walked half this estate twice and had to play happy families with Jeremy. I am not fuckin’ leaving this spot for the next few hours. Bat your pretty little eyelashes and call me love all you want, but you’re gettin’ your own shit today.”
He moved his arm to motion to all the shit he’s thrown next to me, “beers, snacks, fags. Done. If you want a spliff or an extra blanket or a glass of water, you can get it yourself or I’ll need to see some tits first.”
I shook my head, “dick. Will you at least shut up, so I can watch the damn thing?”
He focused on opening a package of peanuts while he spoke, “oh, you get to talk through things I haven’t seen, but I have to shut up? They’re penguins. It’s cold. That’s all he said… you want some nuts?” He held the package towards me.
“Not yours,” I responded.
“Oh,” he said softly.
I finally had a moment of peace and- “It’s March,” the telly said, “and light ret-
“My birthday’s in March,” Nathan said.
I ignored him.
20 minutes later
“Ah fuck, 20 species of bizarre birds?” Nathan said, “I guess that’s where you’re from then.”
I rolled my eyes at him, “no, that’s you. Look at ‘em. Look at the drama.”
“Are you callin’ me dramatic? That one looks like a banana,” the screen showed a few different birds, “do I look like a banana?”
“Do I?” I responded back to him.
“Whatever you were shovin’ in your twat earlier sure looked banana-like,” he responded with a laugh to himself. I shoved him.
“You’re gonna make me spill my drink,” he said, holding it out of the way.
“I’ll pour the whole thing down your shirt. I don’t give a fuck,” I joked.
“Oh, wet t-shirt contest?” He smirked. I pulled a pillow out from behind me and started beating him with it.
“Stop stop, look,” he said and pointed to the telly, “he’s dancin’, should I dance? Would that do it for you?”
I shook my head, “I’ve seen you dance. It’s-”
He was already getting up.
“Don’t Don’t.”
I could no longer see my television. All I saw was stupid Nathan, and some sort of display of outlandish hip and arm movements that I wouldn’t necessarily call dancing… I’d call it more… ah yes, being an idiot.
“Booooo,” I responded between laughs, throwing an empty beer can at him, “booooo.”
He sighed and collapsed back into the bed to look back at the tv, “ah, fuck, the bird’s gotten rejected too. Nothing pleases women these days.”
I let out another snort of a laugh. He turned around to face me, “oh? Look at that smile though. My impeccable charm! It’s pulling you in!” He mimed pulling a rope.
“You are so stupid,” I said with a smile never leaving my face, “I actually quite like some weird lookin’ birds. I thought they were pretty cute.”
“Hey, that’s what I told Barry and Curtis the day I first met you!” He snickered.
“About me? Or Kelly and Alisha?” I responded to the joke.
“Oooooo,” he said, dodging the question, “I’m gonna tell Kelly you said she’s weird lookin’ then she’s gonna kick your arse.”
I let out a laugh, “I’ll tell Kelly half the shit you’ve said to me, and she’ll kick your arse.”
“I doubt it,” he responded, “I think way worse than that, and she can hear them. At least I think she can. I dunno how all these powers work. I don’t even know if I got one.”
“Your little experiment with Barry not go well the other day then?” I asked. I knew his name was Simon, but I’d just went with it.
“No,” he responded, “I think I got a concussion.”
“That’s what I’m gonna do to you,” I said, pointing to the shark on the telly as it devoured its prey.
“Give me a concussion?” Nathan asked, not paying attention.
“Yes, but also bite you like a shark eating a seal,” I responded.
“Oh, you mean put me in your mouth?” He said with an eyebrow raise, “I’d quite like that actually… without the teeth though.”
I rolled my eyes, “you know, my powers are triggered by my emotions— maybe I should try to suffocate you, and we see what happens.”
He smiled, “yeah, suffocate me with your fanny while you put me in your mouth.”
I hope he wouldn’t notice that I’d decided to cross my legs after he said that… he did.
He glanced at me, winked, then went back to watching the tv as he stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “nature sure is interestin’.”
#nathan young#nathan young x OC#misfits fanfiction#nathan young fanfiction#I never know what to tag these as#I hope somebody finds it funny
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Misfits (TV 2009)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Rudy Wade/Reader, Rudy Wade/Original Female Character(s)
Characters: Rudy Wade, Jessica (Misfits), Finn (Misfits), Alex (Misfits), Abbey Smith, Reader
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Kissing, Groping, Making Out, Blow Jobs, Facials, Dirty Talk, Reader-Insert, POV Second Person
Summary:
Rudy and Reader enjoy the empty community center and take advantage of peace and quiet that rarely happens.
#Misfits series#Misfits#misfits fanfiction#rudy wade#rudy misfits#fanfiction#reader insert#18+#Rudy Wade x Reader#Joseph Gilgun#Joe Gilgun
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i’d let robert sheehan do unspeakable things to me and that’s putting it lightly. he’s the perfect man
#the umbrella academy#klaus hargreeves#robert sheehan#luther hargreeves#diego hargreeves#five hargreeves#allison hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#klaus x reader#five x reader#diego hargreaves x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#wattpad#ao3#misfits
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Art I did of @gargusscp's fanfic!
#misfits in toyland#dolly#sizeplay#not my work#fanfiction#fan art#fanart#my art#fanfic#micro/macro#ragdoll#toyfolk#fan character#not my oc#my ocs
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PLEASE LMEADE PLEASE!!!!!!! mean dilf dave bro.... dilf dave is too fine for this world.
IM BEGGINF foe him to be the kinkiest bitch on the planet (not too crazy js like size, degration, praise, daddy <maybe>) AND since he's so mature now he knows exactly how to make u feel good. ALSO I SAW A INTERVIEW OF COWBOY DAVE CALLING HIMSELF DADDY AND I CANT STOP THINKING OF IT GOD HELO ME.
OMG SAGE YOUR BRAIN!!!! and first off WHERE TF IS THIS INTERVIEW??? PLS PROVIDE A LINK (for scientific research purposes ofc <33)
secondly i love love LOVE dilf dave simply for these reasons!!! also ik realistically it's unlikely he’d like it but something about calling him daddy.... omg it just does it for me. ESPECIALLY when he's older, i feel like he'd be into it more because it seems more reasonable a title for a man his age, as compared to when he was young. like i feel if you tried to call 80s/early 90s dave “daddy” he'd just kinda laugh it off. but late 90s/early 2000's dave??? oh he's into it.
like i imagine he's already into degradation/praise, etc., but you accidentally unlocked the daddy and size kink for him. maybe you two are going at it, and dave's fucking you so good you're damn near delirious, and the word accidentally slips out. you're so fucked out you don't even realize you said it until he stops in his tracks, only to plunge his cock deep inside you while he leans down to whisper in your ear.
"you like my cock that much, huh, you whore? you like that? calling me daddy?"
after this all hell breaks loose. he insists you call him daddy during sex, usually while you beg him to touch/fuck you. he refers to himself as daddy, saying "daddy loves you, baby" while he's fucking you into oblivion, and whispers praises of how you're such a good girl for him. the size kink follows soon after, as he realizes just how small and submissive you get for him.
also ik im being extra delusional but i'd like to think that at some point he’d start occasionally referring to himself as "daddy" outside the bedroom. like you're trying (and failing) to get something off of a high shelf and he's brushing behind you, saying in a soft voice "daddy's got it, baby."
oh dear lord i just love dave with a daddy kink
#“hello me meet the real me”#“in my misfit's way of life”#but “my misfit's way of life” is actually just making silly little scenarios about calling a (now) elderly man daddy#anyways#sage ily for this ask#i've needed an excuse to unleash the hell that is having a daddy kink#dave mustaine#dave mustaine smut#dave mustaine x reader#dave mustaine fanfiction#megadeth#megadeth smut#megadeth x reader#megadeth fanfiction#asks
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I WANT/NEED a fanfiction of iruma-kun to be from Florida, to just be a tiny Florida man. He'll still be his sweet, helpful little doormat BUT he is CHAOTIC like Clara is calm compared to him kind of chaotic but you have to be like trust level:6 to see it tho.
Just imagine Someone attacks the misfit class 1 and dad!Kalego and dad!Balam day when they're like on a field trip or something like that and and Iruma just goes fucking crazy on the guy Full Florida man crazy and then afterwards he's like laughing hysterically saying "get wreck bitch" and just being chaotic as all hell WHILE not being in Evil Cycle and the class and teachers just looks at him like "what the fuck?!" Then realized he's not in Evil Cycle and goes "WHAT THE FACK?!?!?!?!? HES LIKE THIS NATURALLY"
#dad kalego#dad lego#balam shichirou#naberius kalego#mairimashita! iruma kun#welcome to demon school iruma kun#iruma suzuki#misfit class#fanfiction#chaos#floridian!iruma#writing#writing prompt#mairimashita! iruma-kun writing prompt
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Bonding
Hey! sorry for not updating the story in a while! school kinda got in the way!but its summer now so ill be able to write more!
Floyd found himself suspended in a void of darkness, surrounded by an expanse of inky blackness that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. There were no discernible walls, no boundaries to define where he stood or what lay beyond. It was as if he had been cast adrift in an infinite sea of emptiness, with no solid ground to anchor him.
In this formless void, Floyd experienced a peculiar sensation of weightlessness, as if gravity had relinquished its hold on him and allowed him to drift freely. It was a disorienting feeling, one that left him simultaneously disconnected from reality and deeply immersed in the fabric of existence.
As he gazed out into the abyss, Floyd grappled with a profound sense of insignificance. In this boundless expanse, he was but a speck of dust, a tiny fragment of consciousness adrift in the vastness of the universe. And yet, paradoxically, he also felt a strange sense of interconnectedness with everything around him. It was as though he had dissolved into the very essence of existence itself, merging with the cosmic tapestry that wove together the fabric of reality.
In this liminal space between nothingness and everythingness, Floyd found himself confronting the fundamental questions of existence. Who was he? What was his purpose? In the absence of any external reference points, he was forced to confront these questions head-on, grappling with the elusive nature of identity and the enigmatic mysteries of the universe.
As he lingered in this timeless void, Floyd's thoughts ebbed and flowed like the gentle currents of an unseen river. He pondered the nature of consciousness, the boundless potential of the troll spirit, and the infinite possibilities that lay hidden within the depths of his own mind.
And yet, amidst the vastness of the void, there was also a strange sense of peace. For in this formless expanse, Floyd found solace in the realization that he was not alone. He was but one small part of a greater whole, connected to every living being every star, and every atom in the universe.
And so, surrounded by the infinite darkness of the void, Floyd embraced the uncertainty of his existence. For in the emptiness, he found a sense of freedom, a liberation from the constraints of the physical world. And as he surrendered to the boundless expanse of the abyss, he discovered that within the depths of nothingness, there was the potential for everything.
The tranquility of the void shattered abruptly, replaced by a sensation of freefall. Floyd felt himself hurtling downward, the darkness enveloping him as he descended into the unknown depths below. The descent was swift and disorienting, leaving him with no sense of direction or purpose.
Without warning, Floyd collided with solid ground, the impact jolting through his body and eliciting a pained groan. He stumbled upon landing, his senses reeling from the sudden transition. As he struggled to regain his bearings, a perplexing realization dawned upon him – he was standing on his own two feet, unaided by the crutches he had relied upon.
Bewildered, Floyd surveyed his surroundings, searching for any semblance of familiarity in the pitch-black expanse. His efforts were interrupted by a sudden burst of noise, loud and jarring, that seemed to emanate from all directions at once. Amid the cacophony, a blinding spotlight illuminated him, casting him into sharp relief against the darkness.
But there was no stage to be found, no audience to witness his bewildering predicament. Floyd stood alone in the void, grappling with the surreal nature of his surroundings and the unsettling absence of explanation. As he struggled to make sense of his situation, a sense of foreboding settled over him.
As the echoes of the strange noise faded into the void, Floyd's attention was drawn by the plaintive cries of an infant. He turned towards the source of the sound and was met with an eerie sight bathed in the glow of a solitary stage light – a crib he had seen before.
The crib stood atop a platform, its frame fashioned from gnarled branches intertwined with shimmering strands of cobwebs. Its sides were adorned with intricate carvings, illuminated by a faint bioluminescent glow. Strands of ethereal moss draped over the edges, lending an otherworldly aura to the structure.
Floyd approached the crib cautiously, his curiosity mingling with a sense of trepidation. As he drew closer, the cries of the infant grew louder, echoing through the empty expanse with haunting intensity. With each step, Floyd felt a growing unease settle in the pit of his stomach, a foreboding sense of foreknowledge whispering of the mysteries that awaited him in this surreal realm.
Within the crib lay a tiny figure, wrapped in swaths of silken fabric woven from the threads of soft fluffy fabric. Its delicate features were obscured by wisps of mist that curled and danced around its form, lending an ethereal quality to the infant's visage.
The mist around the baby's face slowly dissipated, unveiling a small figure with bright blue hair that shimmered with slight purple tints. The skin, a delicate shade of cyan, looked almost translucent in the soft light. Big blue eyes, wide and filled with tears, stared up at Floyd.
Floyd's heart clenched with recognition. He knew this baby. It was Branch, fragile and innocent,
"Hey, it's okay," Floyd murmured, reaching out with gentle hands to soothe the crying child. His voice, usually full of confidence, wavered slightly. He rocked the crib gently, trying to calm the infant, but the cries persisted, echoing in the strange, empty void around them.
Floyd crouched down, his face level with Branch's. "Shh, shh, it's alright, little guy. I'm here," he said softly, but his efforts seemed futile. The baby's cries only grew louder, the tears streaming down his tiny face.
As Floyd continued to comfort Branch, he felt a growing sense of urgency. The surroundings remained shrouded in darkness, the only light emanating from the crib and the spotlight above. The weightlessness he initially felt had been replaced by a heavy, oppressive atmosphere. He could sense that this place held more secrets, more layers waiting to be uncovered.
"Why am I seeing you like this?" Floyd wondered aloud, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced around, hoping for some sign or clue, but the inky blackness offered no answers. The cries of baby Branch tugged at his heartstrings, amplifying the feeling of helplessness.
Suddenly, the stage light flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced around the crib. The air grew colder, and Floyd felt a chill run down his spine. He looked down at Branch, whose cries seemed to take on a more desperate tone, as if pleading for something beyond Floyd's understanding.
Floyd took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's going to be okay, Branch. I promise," he said, determination seeping into his voice. He knew he had to figure out why he was here, why he was seeing Branch like this. There had to be a reason, a connection between the darkness and the baby before him.
As he continued to soothe Branch, Floyd's mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. The void, the stage light, and Branch—all of it had to mean something.
Floyd's hand gently cradled the infant's, still trying to soothe the crying baby Branch. But suddenly, the stage light shut off, plunging the space into darkness once more. The sensation of Branch's small hand in his was gone, as were the cries that had filled the void.
Desperation welled up within him. He felt around frantically for the baby and the crib, but his hands met only empty air. As he continued to search, his fingers brushed against something smooth and textured. He knelt down, curiosity and hope mingling as he picked up the object and sat back on his knees.
Floyd carefully unfolded the item, revealing a piece of golden tan paper, its surface dusted with light gold glitter. It was strikingly familiar. There were four lighter ovals on the paper, each of them holding the names of himself and his brothers. In the middle of the paper was a crudely drawn waterslide, adorned with stickers of their family, smiling and happy.
Recognition hit Floyd like a tidal wave. This was Branch's hideout plan, the very same one he had shown him right before everything changed before Floyd left. Emotions surged within him, memories flooding back. He could hear Branch's excited voice, and see his animated gestures as he explained the intricacies of the hideout plan.
Tears welled up in Floyd's eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked them away, but they continued to flow, tracing wet paths down his cheeks. He traced the names with his fingertips, each one a reminder of the bond they had shared. The waterslide, the stickers, the glitter—it all spoke of innocence.
Floyd's heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia. He remembered the way Branch's eyes had sparkled with excitement, how he had believed so wholeheartedly in their plans, their dreams. And now, here in this strange, dark place, holding this fragile piece of paper, Floyd felt the weight of all that had been lost.
As Floyd cried over the paper and the memories, he felt something warm and wet fall onto his forehead. He shuddered in confusion, raising his hand to his forehead to touch the substance. When he brought his now liquid-covered hand to his sight, he could make out the color red. It had a metallic smell. Blood. It was blood.
Floyd was bewildered. The pit of darkness, the stage lights, baby Branch, the paper, and now blood? What did it all mean?
Behind Floyd came a familiar sound, a distorted cry, eerily reminiscent of a woman's scream. He tilted his blood-covered head upwards, eyes widening at what he saw. There it stood, the creature that had tried to kill him. He could never forget it. Its body was a grotesque patchwork of shadows and twisted limbs, with skin that shimmered like oil on water, reflecting the faint light in unsettling patterns. Its eyes, if they could be called that, were hollow voids that seemed to suck in the very light around them, radiating malice and hunger. Long, spindly fingers ended in claws that resembled thorns sharp and gleaming in the dim light. The creature's mouth was a jagged tear across its face, a grim mockery of a smile.
Fear coursed through Floyd's veins, mingling with the confusion and sorrow already present. He stood frozen, clutching the golden tan paper, the glitter shimmering faintly in the darkness. The creature took a step closer, its distorted cry echoing in the abyss, sending shivers down Floyd's spine.
"Fuck" Floyd's voice was barely a whisper, trembling with terror.
The creature's hollow eyes bore into him, and it responded with another cry, a sound that seemed to reverberate through his very soul. Floyd's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to make sense of the situation. The memories of Branch, the hideout plan, and the blood all swirled in his mind, a chaotic jumble of emotions and thoughts.
As Floyd stared hopelessly into the creature's hollow voids, he choked out a sob. Terror gripped him, and tears streamed down his face. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat a desperate plea for escape. Before he could react, the creature's jaw unhinged, snapping forward to engulf his head.
Floyd jolted awake with a start, drenched in sweat. His heart was racing, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Tears mingled with the beads of perspiration on his cheeks as he looked around, disoriented and frightened. He could still feel the phantom pressure of the creature's jaws.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he began to recognize the familiar setting of the Rock sisters' room. The posters on the walls, the scattered instruments, and the comforting chaos of their belongings slowly brought him back to reality. His breathing gradually steadied, and he wiped at his tear-streaked face with trembling hands.
It was just a dream. A horrible, horrible nightmare. Floyd let out a shaky sigh of relief, lying back down and staring at the ceiling, trying to banish the lingering terror. The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of his friends' breathing. He took comfort in their presence, feeling the weight of the nightmare slowly lift as he reminded himself that he was safe.
An hour had passed, and Floyd still hadn't managed to fall back asleep. Restlessness gnawed at him, making it impossible to find peace. He groaned softly, rubbing his hands down his face in frustration. The remnants of the nightmare still clung to him, refusing to let go. He decided he needed some fresh air, or at least as fresh as air could be in a place surrounded by rock, lava, and volcanoes.
With a determined sigh, Floyd reached for his crutches. He positioned them carefully, making sure they were secure under his arms. Pushing himself up, he shifted his weight, ensuring he could maintain his balance. The cool metal of the crutches felt reassuring against his skin, a tangible anchor in the midst of his swirling thoughts. Slowly, he began to walk, each step deliberate and measured as he made his way toward the door, seeking the solace of the outside world.
Floyd carefully made his way downstairs, each step a cautious endeavor due to his crutches and the enveloping darkness. The descent was slow and deliberate, every movement precise to avoid a misstep. After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the front door. With a soft sigh of relief, he opened it and stepped outside.
The night greeted him with a brisk chill, the air cool against his skin. As he looked up, the sky stretched out in a vast, dark canvas dotted with countless stars. They twinkled like distant jewels, scattered across the heavens. Amid the celestial display, a constellation caught his eye, one that vaguely resembled the head of a troll, if it were drawn by an abstract artist. The sight was oddly comforting, a reminder of the beauty that could be found even in the most unexpected places. Floyd took a deep breath, the crisp air filling his lungs, and felt a small measure of peace settle over him.
Floyd found himself wandering aimlessly, his thoughts as scattered as the stars above. Before he knew it, he had reached a hill that offered a breathtaking view of Volcano Rock City. He hadn’t even realized he had walked this far. Moving to the edge of the hill, he carefully sat down, letting his crutches rest beside him as he gazed out at the kingdom spread below.
The city was a mesmerizing sight. Rivers of glowing lava snaked through the streets, casting an eerie, fiery glow that contrasted sharply with the dark rock structures. The towering volcanoes loomed in the background, their peaks wreathed in wisps of smoke that seemed to dance in the night air.
In the distance, the faint noise of a concert could be heard, the heavy beats and electric guitar riffs echoing across the city, adding a pulsating energy to the otherwise still night. It was a comforting reminder of the city's vibrant life, even at this late hour.
Beyond the city, on its outskirts, lay a dense forest. The trees stood tall and dark, their silhouettes etched against the starry sky. The forest was a stark contrast to the fiery landscape of the city, a reminder of the natural world that lay just beyond the urban sprawl.
Floyd took it all in, the blend of fire and earth, the sound of distant music, and the serene presence of the forest. It was a moment of tranquility, a brief respite from the turmoil within his mind. As he sat there, the cool night air soothing his nerves, he felt a small measure of peace settle over him.
Floyd felt the weight of exhaustion settle over him like a heavy blanket, his eyelids growing heavy as he fought against the pull of sleep. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to make his way back to the Rock family house. But just as he turned to leave, the sound of footsteps echoed behind him, causing him to pause.
With a slow, drowsy turn, Floyd faced the source of the sound, his senses dulled by fatigue and the darkness of the night. Before him stood a troll, clad in an oversized black hoodie adorned with a skull motif, spiked collar, ripped jeans, and black boots. The figure was small, perhaps a pre-teen, but in his tired state, Floyd struggled to discern their identity.
Wordlessly, the troll seated themselves beside Floyd, their presence unexpected yet strangely comforting. In a voice that carried a hint of weariness and familiarity, the troll spoke. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Floyd shifted his gaze away from the troll, his eyes returning to the landscape spread out before them. "It kinda feels like I did," he admitted, his voice tinged with defeat.
The troll's next question cut through the silence like a knife. "Nightmares?" they asked, producing a cigarette and lighter from their pocket.
Floyd nodded solemnly, the weight of his troubled dreams bearing down on him. "Yeah," he replied, his tone heavy with resignation.
"Nightmares, such horrible things," the troll mused, exhaling a plume of smoke from the cigarette. "Our minds decide to terrify us, torment us."
Floyd nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring the sadness in his voice. "Tell me about it... It's worse when it's memories."
The troll turned to face him, their gaze meeting in the dim light of the night. As Floyd studied her, he noticed the mask she wore, but up close, he could discern more of her features.
"Dreams allow trolls to revisit and attempt to work through old trauma," she explained, her voice carrying a weight of wisdom and sorrow. "Nightmares are often seen as a failure to work through or master the trauma. They're a way in which the mind transforms shame associated with the traumatic event into fear."
Floyd listened intently, struck by the depth of insight in her words. Despite the somber topic, he found himself drawn to her calm demeanor and the quiet strength she exuded.
As Floyd listened to the female troll share her own experiences, her voice took on a calm and measured tone. "I dream of my parents," she began softly, her words carrying the weight of years of reflection. "Arguing, throwing things at each other, fighting..." Her voice trailed off momentarily as if revisiting painful memories.
"But you know what I've come to realize?" she continued, her gaze steady despite the emotions that flickered across her face. "It's not the victims' fault for their trauma. It's the people who inflict it." Her words held a profound truth, spoken with a clarity that cut through the darkness of the night.
As Floyd stared into the mystery troll's eyes, he noticed the glossiness, the telltale signs of tears. The vulnerability in her expression touched him deeply. "It's not your fault, Floyd. It's not," she reassured him, her hand coming to rest gently on his back in a gesture of comfort.
Feeling a surge of gratitude and understanding, Floyd found solace in her words. The motion of her comforting pat was the final reassurance he needed, and with a sense of peace washing over him, he drifted into a peaceful slumber beside the troll.
#trolls#trolls au#dreamworks trolls#trolls misfits#trolls movie#trolls fanart#trolls world tour#art#trolls rebel#trolls fanfiction#fanfc#trolls angst#angst#trolls floyd angst#trolls floyd#trolls barb#trolls band together#trolls brozone#horror
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our next step ~ swaggersouls
word count: 1611
request?: yes!
“hey hey!! i adore your work and was wondering if you could do a swaggerwouls x fem!reader? maybe something along the lines of the reader also being a youtuber and them having a baby together and announcing it to their fans?🥺i’ve been having major baby fever lately lol. super sorry if this goes against any of your rules and it’s totally cool if you’re not comfortable writing it! :)”
description: in which they decide to tell their fans the major update in their lives
pairing: swaggersouls x female!reader
warnings: swearing, two uses of y/n, rpf
masterlist (one, two, three)
Being content creators with a very small social media presence outside of YouTube and Twitch made it incredibly easy to hide my pregnancy.
It’s not that we didn’t want to tell our fans. The majority of mine and Swagger’s relationship was online for everyone to see since we vlogged and gamed with each other regularly. If anything, it made more sense to tell everyone when I found out I was pregnant. And I had actually filmed most of my pregnancy to make one big vlog once the baby came.
But, like I said, the majority of our relationship was online. Not only that, but most of my life since I was in my late teens was online for the world to see. We decided that we wanted something for just ourselves, even just for a little while.
Neither of us posted on social media enough for it to be suspicious if we were suddenly MIA for months, and my face cam when I was streaming was always positioned in a way that showed me from my shoulders up, so my bump wasn’t on camera. The only thing my fans would notice was some weight gain in my face, which was easy to just say was because I had gained weight in general.
The other Misfits knew, of course. We told them shortly after we found out. Tobi was ecstatic that her son was going to have a Misfits friend. The guys were all happy for us, too, but Cam teased Swagger about being the last person in the group any of them expected to become a father.
“So, you’re giving up weed then?” Cam asked after we told him.
“Fuck no! I’ll go smoke outside instead.”
After nine long months, plus roughly six hours of labor, our baby girl came into the world and our family was complete.
She had Swagger wrapped around her tiny fingers from the second he laid his eyes on her. He loved her almost more than he loved our cats, which is definitely saying something. But, I did say almost.
A month or so after our daughter, Daisy, was born, Swagger and I were laid in bed together. I was reading while Swagger was watching stuff on his phone with little Daisy asleep on his chest. I kept glancing over at them and smiling at the sight. I couldn’t help it, seeing Swagger as a dad just made me happy. Especially seeing him with the little human that we made. It was hard to explain the level of joy I felt.
“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Swagger said, giving me a playful smile.
I hadn’t even realized I was staring until that moment. I shook myself out of my thoughts and retorted, “That’s not as insulting as you think it is. If I could reach my phone, I’d take so many pictures of you right now.”
“Oh, I am well aware.” He reached out to hold my hand while trying to move very little as to not wake Daisy. “What had you thinking so hard anyways?”
I looked at Daisy again, another smile involuntarily tugging at the corners of my mouth. I just couldn’t help it.
Instead of telling him what I had actually been thinking about, I found myself saying, “Should we tell our viewers about Daisy soon?”
“We did say we’d announce it after she was born,” he said. “And they’ve definitely noticed that you haven’t vlogged in months.”
“Do you think it’s time?”
Swagger looked at Daisy and asked, “What do you think, Daisy? Should we tell the world you exist?” The baby let out a heavy sigh, but otherwise didn’t move or wake up. “I think that was a yes.”
~~~~~~
The next day, I broke out the old vlog camera that I hadn’t used since before I developed my baby bump. Surprisingly, the battery hadn’t died even from lack of use.
“This feels foreign,” I said as I turned the camera on. “I haven’t vlogged in ages. I wonder if I’ll even remember how to do it.”
“You’re just setting it up to sit in front of it,” Swagger teased.
“Hey, that’s hard to do when you haven’t worked a camera in, like, a year.” I set the camera up on the tripod and turned to him. “Sit your ass down, knight boy.”
“That was a terrible insult.”
Swagger sat down on the couch, wearing his ski mask and holding Daisy in his arms. He had her positioned in a way that her face was hidden from the camera. We both agreed that we would not be showing her face on camera while she was a kid, but we also thought it would be hilarious to start the video with Swagger just holding our baby that no one knew even existed.
“She’s going to be terrified if she wakes up and sees the mask,” I said as I sat next to him.
“She’ll have to get used to it eventually,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just walk around the house with it on.”
“Do not do that. I know you would use that as an excuse to just scare me.”
He gave me a look, and I could tell from his eyes that he was smirking under his mask.
“Anyways,” I said, turning away from him. “Hello. I know you guys are all wondering, what is this thing.” I gestured to Daisy.
“Thing,” Swagger snickered.
“This is our baby,” I said, ignoring him. “It is the bun I baked for nine months, and now here she is. And I know you’re also all wondering, (Y/N) and Swagger, when did you guys have a baby?”
“About a month ago,” Swagger responded. “And technically, (Y/N) had the baby. I just put the baby in her.”
“Yeah, thanks for that.” To the camera, I said, “We know you guys have so many questions. The short story is, we weren’t trying for a baby. It was definitely a shock to us both, but it was a good shock. Announcing my pregnancy wasn’t the first thing we thought of. Actually, it took, like, a week for us to realize we hadn’t said anything online about it, and at that point we kind of came to the conclusion that we wanted the pregnancy to be an us thing instead of a shared internet thing.”
“We were being very selfish,” Swagger said.
“But we’re not sorry,” I added.
“Oh, not at all. We love you guys, but sometimes we do need some privacy, and this was definitely one of those times.” He glanced down at Daisy, his eyes lighting up just looking at her. I decided against teasing him in that moment because it was just too cute. He continued, “And I’m going to answer the important question, which is no, not even becoming a father will stop me from smoking weed.”
I playfully rolled my eyes.
“Everyone was thinking it!” Swagger argued. “Obviously I’m not smoking 24/7, or around the baby, but I’m not giving it up all together. I’m not becoming a square just because I have a kid.”
“Should we tell everyone her name, or are we just going to keep calling her ‘the baby’?”
“I don’t see a problem with telling everyone her name.”
“Her name is Daisy.”
As if hearing her name, Daisy made a soft cooing noise and opened her eyes. Swagger moved her so she would look at me first. We were joking for the video before, but we were actually a little nervous about her reaction to seeing Swagger in his ski mask for the first time. It was something we’d have to ease her into when she was much older.
“Hey baby,” I said, taking her from Swagger. “Woke up to be in your first ever video, huh? You’re ready to be a star.”
She looked up at me with her big, brown eyes. Ever since she was born, everyone said she looked exactly like me, but not her eyes. She definitely had Swagger’s eyes.
“That’s it, I guess,” I said. “We’re going to take some time to take care of this one and get used to having a baby, then we’ll be back to regular streams and uploads eventually. Uh...yeah. Bye, I guess?” I looked over to Swagger. “Can you turn the camera off? I’m holding Daisy.”
He got up and did as I asked. Once the camera was off, he pulled off the ski mask and tossed it off to the side. “That went well.”
“I’m weirdly nervous about it,” I admitted. “My heart is pounding. Daisy can definitely feel it.”
“You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t think anyone is going to react poorly to us announcing we’re parents now.”
“I’d doubt it, but weirdly I still am.”
Swagger sat down next to me and put an arm around my shoulder. I leaned into him, stretching my legs out and resting Daisy on them so she could look at the both of us. She was very interested in her surroundings. According to my mom, babies can only see so far when they’re first born, and their vision increases as time goes on. I’m not sure if that’s completely true, but it was adorable to think that she was just now seeing everything for the first time.
“I can’t believe we made this,” I said. “We made a whole human being.”
“We can make another one, if you want.”
I shot him a look. “No way. My body does not need to go through that ever again. We can practice, though.”
“Deal.” He pulled me close and kissed the top of my head.
#swaggersouls#swaggersouls imagine#swaggersouls x reader#misfits#misfits imagine#imagine#one shot#request#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom#rpf
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Oh ho ho ask and you shall receive.
Can I get a western au with Misfit and dealers choice on genre. Just at one point can I hug him. Thank you
Love oo
Better Place
Summary: After losing his career due to gross insubordination towards his Commanding Officer, Misfit finds himself moving back to the small ranching town he grew up in because he has no other options. He’s surprised when he realizes that this is his chance to heal.
Pairing: Pre Specialist Misfit (Clone OC) x F!Reader
Word Count: 2421
Warnings: Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse
Prompt: Western AU - though it doesn't really have a Western vibe, sorry.
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kimiheartblade
A/N: So, I had an idea, and I think I'm happy with it. Jango was a good dad to some of his children, but was a bad dad to others. Misfit, Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Sister are all the "undesirable" children, and I have ideas as to where they are, but I couldn't work it into the story.
“Here’s the Ranch,” Boba says to Misfit as he unlocks the door and walks over to a window to pull it open, “No one’s lived here since dad died, but I’ve had people coming out and keeping it clean. Everything is still in working order.”
Awkwardly, Misfit lingers in the doorway, he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and sticks it between his lips, though he doesn’t light it just yet. He watches Boba move around the kitchen, pulling open curtains and opening windows.
He hates this place.
He never wanted to return here.
Being in this house makes him feel like a child again. Unwanted. Unheard.
Ghosts of memories dance across his vision. He can see Jango—father— sitting at the dining room table, holding court with his favored sons: golden boy Boba. Ponds. Cody. Both sets of twins, Neyo and Bacara as well as Wolffe and Fox. The baby, Bly.
All the while, the less favored kids are left watching from the outside, in the hopes that they might earn an approving look from their father.
Not that they ever did.
He wonders if Jango regretted it, ignoring so many of his children, before the end. Misfit knows that he didn’t come and visit when he got word that Jango was dying.
He also knows that the other undesirable kids didn’t come either.
Knowing Jango, he didn’t even notice.
In any event, Boba inherited the ranch after Jango died. Though, it’s clear to Misfit that his older brother hadn’t actually stepped foot in the place since before Jango died.
It should make him feel better, the knowledge that Jango must be rolling in his grave since Boba’s just giving him the ranch. But it just makes him feel hollow and empty.
“Are you sure you want to just give me this place?” Misfit asks.
Boba turns to look at him, “We talked about this already, vod.” He leans against the counter, his arms folding over his chest, “The ranch is too far away from where I work.”
“We both know that Jango wouldn’t want me to have this place.”
“Yeah, well,” Boba shrugs, “Dad’s dead. What he does or doesn’t want is unimportant. He left the ranch to me, and I’m giving it to you.” He pauses, “The animals were sold after dad died, but I do remember that you never cared much for cattle or sheep.”
Misfit’s grin is slightly wry, Boba’s not wrong, that’s for sure.
“So, do you have any plans for the place?” Boba asks.
“Plant a garden, probably. Assuming the garden boxes don’t need to be repaired.” Misfit shrugs, “Turn the old barn into a workshop for my woodworking.”
“Oh, you’re still doing that?”
“I like working with my hands. It makes me less likely to turn to alcohol or drugs.”
Boba pauses and for a moment a pained look crosses his face, “I had heard…there are meetings in town for people fighting addictions. Support groups.”
“Yeah, I know.” Misfit pauses, “I already reached out for a sponsor.”
Relief washes across Boba’s face, “You have? That’s great.”
“Contrary to what you all seem to believe, I don’t actually like being high or drunk.”
“We’re just worried, Misfit.” Boba replies, “We thought you were going to get Court Martialed.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You-” Boba exhales slowly, “Never mind.” He pushes his hair through his curls, “When I heard you were coming, I went out and bought some food for you.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s the least I could do. You’re still my brother.” Boba stops leaning against the counter and walks over to another window and ties the curtain open, “Honestly, I was worried I’d never see you again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the others…they’ve completely cut us off.” Boba says awkwardly.
“Can you blame them?” Misfit asks as he finally steps into the house properly. He’ll have to redo the entire house to make it less anxiety inducing, but it’s always nice to have a project.
“No.” Boba admits, “Dad was great…for some of us. It took a long time for me to recognize that the way he treated you younger kids was…” He sighs and shakes his head, “None of you deserved that.”
“No, we didn’t.” Misfit agrees. “Anything else?”
Boba’s quiet for a moment, “I left my old motorcycle in the barn, you can have it. I can’t ride it anymore. The helmet and leather jacket are back there too. They’ll both fit you.”
“Thanks Boba,”
“You need a way to get around. It’s not super, you won’t be able to do a massive grocery trip, but it’s good enough.” Boba walks over to Misfit, and reaches out to grip his shoulder, “Listen, if you need anything, just give me a call. We’re family.”
Misfit stares at him for a moment, “Yeah, sure.”
“I mean it, vod.” Boba drops his hand, “I wasn’t always the best brother, but I’ve grown up since then.”
Misfit sighs and nods, “Alright, Boba. I’ll let you know.”
“Great. I’m going to get out of here, let you get settled.” Boba heads to the door, and then turns around to walk backwards, “Answer your phone when I call, Misfit. I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Then Boba is gone, leaving Misfit alone with his thoughts and memories.
His hands twitch, and he finally lights his cigarette, in the hopes that the familiar sensation will help him feel a little less like a child again.
It helps settle him, a little bit, and Misfit starts poking his way through the house. It is in pretty solid condition, all things considered, he decides as he goes up the stairs.
The paint and wallpaper in the rooms are dated, but both are easily corrected. Besides, wallpaper is outdated as a whole anyway.
The bedroom he used to share with Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair will probably be reworked into an office, Misfit decides as he peeks into his old bedroom. It needs a new coat of paint, and he’ll probably take the door off, to make it more open.
Misfit clicks his tongue and heads back downstairs. He finds a notepad and a pen in the kitchen, and then heads back upstairs, making a list of everything he’s going to need to make the house less nightmare fuel for himself.
As he heads out to the barn later, to make sure the motorcycle still works, Misfit can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this won’t be as terrible as he fears.
Three months later, Misfit thinks that he’s about as settled as he’s going to get. He has a dog, a mastiff he named Bull, and the entire house has been repainted so that it doesn’t look like the same house.
He managed to get his garden in, and rigged up the hoses to automatically water the plants on a set schedule (he had to get on a video call with Tech to hammer out the more finicky details when some of the coding didn’t work properly, but it works now and that’s the important thing.)
Misfit has even managed to repair the old fences so that Bull has free reign of the yard.
All in all, this place feels more like home now than it ever did when he was a child. Even his relationship with Boba has settled into something safe and comfortable.
They don’t talk about Jango. Ever.
But they get together once a week, have lunch or dinner together. It’s settled something, an old hurt, in Misfit’s heart. It’s nice to know that his older brothers don’t actually hate him.
It’s around that time when his neighbor across the street sells their home. The original owners, an older couple who used to babysit Misfit when he was a little kid, had been thrilled to see him again when he moved in.
But they are an older couple, so Misfit wasn’t surprised when they admitted that they were moving out. He also wasn’t surprised when they asked for him to come and help with a few repairs around their home before they sold it.
The new owner is a young woman around the same age as him. Though Misfit hasn’t met her yet.
The morning he meets her, he’s out in the front yard working on his garden, while also playing with Bull. In fairness, he doesn’t notice her first, but Bull releases a loud bark and tears over to the fence.
Misfit straightens from where he’s pulling weeds, and he whistles sharply. Bull immediately sits, though his entire body is wiggling with excitement. “Good boy, Bull.” Misfit praises as he pulls a cookie out of a pouch on his hip and passes it to the dog.
“He’s so well trained!” The woman standing at the fence says, her eyes wide as she looks from Bull to Misfit and then back again, “Did you train him yourself?”
“Had some help from my cousin.” Misfit says, “He’s a dog trainer here in town.”
“The one who visits every week?” She asks, “I saw him the other day.”
“No. That’s one of my brothers. Hound doesn’t visit often.” He pulls off his thick work gloves and sticks them in his back pocket, “Anyway, can I help you?”
“Oh! I was just coming over to introduce myself!” She holds out her hand, and introduces herself with a broad smile, “I just moved in, and I’ve been wanting to come and introduce myself, but you’re a hard man to catch.”
“I’m a pretty busy guy.” He pauses, “Misfit.”
“I…sorry?”
“My name. It’s Misfit.”
Her lips part, ���Oh. That’s…not really a name.” She finally says.
“You get used to it. There’s a bunch of us Fetts around here with names like that.” Misfit replies with a shrug, “You get used to it.”
She frowns slightly, and then her smile returns, “So, you take care of all this land on your own?”
Misfit pulls a cigarette from behind his ear and lights it, “Pretty much.”
“The previous owners told me that you hand carved the railing in my home,” She bubbles excitedly, “Is that true?”
“Yeah. I make furniture and stuff for a living. Never been much for farm work.” Misfit pauses, he looks at her eager face, and then sighs, “Would you like to come in?”
“Only if it’s not too much hassle,” She replies sheepishly, “I’ve never met someone who can make furniture with their own hands.”
Misfit sighs and pushes the gate open, moving to the side to let her into his yard. “How do you think furniture gets made?”
“Uh…in factories?”
“Sure, if you want cheap things that’ll break in a year, I guess.” Misfit motions to Bull, “My dog, Bull. Let him sniff your hand before you try to pet him.”
He waits until Bull decides that she’s boring, before he leads her around to the barn. “This used to be an actual farm, then?” She asks as she looks up at the, recently painted, barn. “I thought these came in red?”
“I painted it because I don’t like red.” Misfit says as he slides one of the barn doors open, “And yeah, it was a farm for years. It’s only in the last couple of years that there haven’t been animals living here.” He moves to the side as three cats sprint out of the barn.
“You have cats too!” She asks, excited.
“They’re strays. They keep the mouse population down, so I’m happy to feed them.” He pushes the other barn door open, and gestures vaguely towards his workshop.
“Oh, it smells nice!”
“That would be because that shelf is made of cedar.” Misfit replies as he steps around her and goes over to his workbench, “It’s for my brother. His bookshelf collapsed because of too many books.”
“You’re a good brother,” She sounds marveled.
“Nah. I’m making him pay me for it.” Misfit says, “He’s a professor at an Ivy league university, he can afford it.”
“So if this used to be a ranch and now isn’t, what are you doing with all of the land?” She asks, curious.
“Planting trees.”
She laughs, and then pauses, “Wait, really?”
“Yeah, really.”
She blinks at him, twice, and then she grins. “Wow, you’re like, the whole package, aren’t you?”
“...what?”
“It’s just,” She flushes, “You’re handy,” She gestures to the shelf, “You’re good with animals, you care about the environment and you’re close to your family-”
Misfit stares at her, blankly, “I have a dishonorable discharge from the military, and am in recovery for both alcohol and drug addictions.” He says flatly, “The only reason I’m allowed to live here is because no one else wanted to, and they don’t care what I do with it.”
She shakes her head, “Addiction is an illness! Not a moral failing! And your brothers clearly love you enough to give you all of this.”
“...you’re very kind, but I promise I don’t deserve it.”
She scowls at him, and takes several large steps towards him, and wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.
Misfit’s hands raise to hover over her shoulders, unsure what he’s supposed to do in this situation. “Um…”
She doesn’t pull away, “I don’t know who told you that you’re not deserving of basic kindness, but they’re wrong.” She tightens her arms around him, “You’re a good guy. Bad guys don’t take care of animals or worry about the environment or take time out of their busy day to humor someone’s curiosity.”
Misfit sighs and lightly places his hands on her shoulders, and pushes her away gently, “Thank you. I’m not the best at taking compliments, but…thank you.”
She smiles at him, her face slowly turning red in embarrassment, “You’re welcome! But you must think I’m so weird-” She says with a sheepish laugh.
“Weird isn’t so bad.” Misfit replies as he turns his attention away from her. He hesitates for a moment, considering something, before he looks at her again, “So…I’m holding a cookout this weekend, with my brother and my cousins and their partners. There’s going to be a bunch of people here, if you want to come over and meet some people.”
“Ah! Really?”
Misfit shrugs, “It’s not easy being the new person in town.”
She beams at him, warm and wide, “And you think you’re a bad guy.”
And Misfit looks away from her, his ears burning. He’s not sure if he’s a good guy, exactly, but…maybe he could try to be. If only to keep her smiling at him like that.
#star wars#tcw#star wars au#vodika-vibes 650 event#clone oc: specialist misfit#misfit x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#answered asks#western au
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Spoons
It was a bad night. A night full of voices and whispers and taunts. The ceiling above him seemed to move, creating faces with dark cutting eyes that would stare and watch him the entire time. Their gaze was firm, strong and held him tightly making it impossible to look away. Evan had stared back until his eyes burned and watered, and then some.
Or: Evan has a high symptom and low spoons day.
#dimension 20#d20#dimension twenty#disabled#disability#evan kelmp#k tanaka#mismag#d20 mismag#misfits and magic#hurt/comfort#angst#fluff#ao3feed#ao3#ao3 link#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic
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What If I’m Just Like Him?
Pairing: Nathan Young/OC (Mel Albright)
Word Count: 1,495
Warnings: pregnancy, panic attack, self-doubt, deadbeat dad references
Formatting is bad because tumblr is bad. Lots of dialogue.
“You’re lucky I love you,” I said to the baby growing inside me, “dancin’ on my bladder n shit.”
I sat up and glanced at the clock. 1:43. Then, I noticed Nathan wasn’t in bed. God I hope he’s not taking a shit. I’m about to piss my pants.
I made it to the toilet, and Nathan wasn’t in there. After a piss and a grunt and a handwashing, I walked in the kitchen. He wasn’t there either.
After shoving some biscuits in my mouth, I glanced out the window on the door and saw him. He was sitting on the ground, smoking a cigarette.
I opened the door. He looked up at me and waved the smoke in the air. He put out the cigarette on the ground.
“Don’t breathe that,” he said.
I looked down at him, “What are you doing out here? It’s cold.”
He shrugged, “y’know. Nicotine addiction.” I could tell it was more than just a midnight smoke.
“Come inside,” I said and bent over the ruffle his hair.
“Careful bendin’ over like that,” he said as he got up. I walked in the flat. He followed me and closed the door behind him.
I sat on the sofa and patted on the seat next to me.
Nathan sat down, “you should go back to bed, you’ve got work in the morning.”
I put my arm around him, “I’ve got work in like… eleven hours. That’s not morning. I’ll be fine.”
He laid his head on my shoulder, “we should really just… go back to bed.”
“I can tell something’s bothering you,” I said as I rubbed his arm.
“I’m fine, love,” he said without looking at me, “swear. You’ve got enough to worry about.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you,” I said and kissed his head.
He placed his hand on my bump and rubbed it, “I’m so excited for our baby.”
He kissed my belly then sat up next to me again, “really. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. I’m good. Our baby’s healthy. You’re healthy. Everything’s really good.”
I held his hand, “did I do something wrong?” I was almost certain I didn’t, but sometimes that was the only way to get him to open up. I knew we were both scared shitless about being parents and about all of the changes that were happening all at once, but I didn’t know if something specific had happened.
I just wanted to know. I wanted to fix it. Or at least tell him that it was okay to be upset.
He shook his head in a slight panic, “no no no no, I don’t think you’re capable of doing anything wrong.”
He pulled me closer to him and rested his hand on my bump, absentmindedly rubbing it.
“Well, that’s certainly not true,” I responded with a small laugh.
We sat there for a minute. I decided not to interrogate him into telling me what was wrong.
“Do you think I’m gonna be a good dad?” He said finally. Softly. Ah. I’d told him a million times before that I did, but it was worth it to tell him again.
“You’re already a good dad,” I said with a smile.
He made a noise, “How?”
“Always looking out for me. Always being there. Being responsible,” I responded, looking in his eyes.
He shrugged, “I’m not responsible.” Maybe that was true a year ago. Maybe that was still true in some ways, but he’d shown me he could be.
“Yes, you are,” I said. I felt the need to stick up for him even if it was to himself, “you helped me throw out all of the weed in the house. You got a job. You’ve supported me every step a this pregnancy. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. You were scared that the baby would get taken away the second it was born if we had stuff in the house. We didn’t have any money. I didn’t have a choice. That doesn’t mean I’m responsible,” he said, leaning against me again, not looking at me.
I sighed. Then, he looked at me.
“You could’ve left,” I said simply.
He looked away again, “that’s what scares me.” I was… kind of confused, but I tried not to react until I got more clarity.
“What d’you mean, love?” I said as I rubbed his back.
“My- They… forget it. I’m here for you and the baby. That’s all that matters,” I saw him try to discreetly wipe his eye. He tried to stand up, and I grabbed his wrist.
“Nathan,” I said in a more serious tone than I usually had, “Talk to me.”
He sat back down, sighed, and ran his hands through his hair.
He let out a breath, “My dad was there until he wasn’t.”
I held his hand, “hmm?”
He didn’t look at me and sounded like he was about to cry, “what if I make the wrong decision?”
And that made my anxiety spike. I knew he wanted the baby. I knew he wasn’t going to leave or did I?
“What do you mean wrong decision?” I asked and rubbed his hand.
“What if he wanted me and changed his mind?” I watched as he ignored the tears that fell, “what if I’m just like him? What if I change my mind?” His words and his breathing sped up as he continued to talk, “I’m just a fucking arsehole under it all. What if that to my kids? What if I let you down? Both of you? I don’t wanna be that! I don’t wanna be that!”
I continued to rub his hand, “you need to breathe, love. Try to breathe.”
He steadied his breathing a little bit, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I’m not trying to scare you… I’m not gonna leave… I’m not gonna leave… every time my mum was mad at me, she’d say I was just like him. She still doesn’t know… fuck, she’s going to be so disappointed,” he let go of my hand to run his hands through his hair, “She’s gonna say she knew it’d happen. She’s gonna say I’m gonna be a shit dad just like him. She’s gonna tell me off and say how could I do this.” He was breathing fast again. I wasn’t sure how to get him to calm down.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I said.
“My chest hurts, why does my chest hurt? Am I dying? I feel like I’m dying, and I’ve died before so I know what it feels like. You hate it when I die. I’m sorry for dying,” he said quickly.
“I think you’re having a panic attack,” I said, “you just need to calm down. You’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“What’s that?” he said, “I don’t do that.”
I tried to get him to breathe with me and do some grounding exercises.
——
“What’s indigo? Isn’t that just blue? I already found something blue,” he said. The important thing was that he’d calmed down some.
“You can just skip to purple,” I said.
“Blanket,” he said lifting it up.
“Do you feel any better now?” I asked.
He set his head on my shoulder, “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” I responded, “it’s okay to not know.”
“But I need to be okay,” he replied, “I need to be okay for you.”
I put my arm around him, “you just need to be you. You’re allowed to be scared.”
“Maybe I should just call my dad,” he said, “so he can tell me he never wanted me. I need to know. Because I want our baby more than anything in this world, and I just don’t understand how he could leave. Maybe I was just too much trouble. He sent money… sometimes. He just didn’t want to deal with me. I wasn’t worth it. He expected Mum to do everything, but I don't want to be like that. I want to be a good dad. I want to be a good husband. But what if I can’t be? Because I’m mean and stupid and selfish and lazy, and what if one day I just walk out the fucking door because I’m a fucking idiot?!”
I held him close to me, “shh. Everyone has choices. Everyone makes mistakes. Things are going to be stressful and scary, but they’re also going to be beautiful and fun and wild. You’re not your dad, and you’re never going to be. You’re you, and you make your own choices. If you don’t want to leave then don’t. Maybe you’ve done less than savory things, we all have, but you’re also sweet and gentle and soft. You care so much. You think you don't, but you do. I’m glad you’re the person I’m starting a family with. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said. He smiled at me and kissed me, “I really do.”
#idk what to tag this as#tumblr already fucked my formatting so it’s even lazier this time#just wanted to post this before I start my job tomorrow#I’m so tired#nathan young#nathan young fluff#nathan young x oc#misfits fanfiction#oc; melanie albright
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Chapter 5 of Misfits has been posted!
Chapter summary:
In which Emmet is a disney princess
#submas#misfits#subway boss ingo#subway boss emmet#fanfiction#my writing#guess who had to split the chapter in half again because it was getting too long
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Fic: Set the Date, Set the Time (‘Cause We Already Know Where We’re Going)
Set the Date, Set the Time ('Cause We Already Know We're Going) | Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes | General | 5,161 words | No Warnings
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Teacher Steve Rogers, Meet-Cute, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Matchmaking by seven-year-olds, (With a little help from Natasha), Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts
Summary: "Well, thank you for being a good sport about it," she says, looking at Alena over her shoulder. "She's decided she was right about you, you know."
"Should I know what that means?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.
"I imagine you'll find out soon enough," the woman says, laughing again. "I'm Natasha, by the way."
"Steve," Steve says, holding out a hand to shake hers.
"I know," she says, still looking amused.
(or: Steve teaches art to kids. He's used to his students not always being focused on art, and he's used to them being very curious about him. He's not at all used to them trying to set him up with their adult family members, but he can't complain about it. Not when the family member he's been set up with walks through his classroom door and is the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen.)
My contribution to Misfit's Raffle. A gift for raffle winner: @april2007!
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I would like to thank everyone who has supported me. I've decided to make the "Fugue Bad Endings" into a four-part fic titled "Fugue Cascade." It expands upon what I've already shown so far and will finally conclude with the Maria ending and an answer everyone has been asking about Jen.
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that was staring from across the room | goodguyfitz x female reader
my masterlist
↪M A S T E R L I S T
warnings / other notes
↪I'mm aware he's a controversial influence. II couldn't care less whether you support him or not. I personally, enjoy his content and his humor.
↪ she/her pronouns used
↪swearing, drinking, drug use
↪ im aware mason has a gf (if you didnt know, he does)
↪ sexts / mention of sex
prompt
↪ the misfits were having their annual boozy party and you were invited. recently cameron (fitz) and you had gotten into a heated argument over a small thing, so there was a lot of tension in the air whenever you were near him.
A misfits party, it seemed like every other week that the misfits held a party where there were booze, weed and every other recreational drug you could think of.
But, it wasn't every day that they held a party as big as this one, a party for one of their friends. It was Chad's birthday today and of course, being his friend, I was invited.
Stepping into the Misfits house I am welcomed with an overwhelming smell of weed and the familiar sounds of people stuffing their nose with coke, I never did drugs of course. I lived a happy life without them actually.
"y/n!" mason slurred, already wasted off his face, wrapping his arms around my shoulders his breathe reeked of alcohol and ciggies but it was comforting because that was the mason I knew.
"hey macey" I laugh "god well don't you fucking look sexy you fucking dog." he says removing his arm to take a step back and look at my outfit, which was only a simple dress with flats, nothing too interesting for these aussies.
"thanks mason." I smile looking around, the house was crowded and packed "the boys are playing a game do you want to play or anything, its fucking truth or dare." he says pointing into a crowd of people "truth or dare?" I question him "chad the cunt wanted to play." he says "come come" he grabs my hand pulling me along.
Dragging me through the crowded corridors and packed rooms, finally making it to a room where it was just the Misfits and close friends.
Some of the Misfits were out like Matt, Swagger and Cameron.
But shortly after they returned with a fuck ton of alcohol which made the party from the house even more vibrant and loud even though the people in this room literally weren't even apart of that party.
"truth or dare." chad mumbles to me, rubbing his nose I look around. Cameron was staring at me with his judgy eyes, "dare" I grin to Cameron before looking back at chad.
You see days before this party, Cameron and I had gotten into an altercation where he called me some very debatable names resulting in his shit being burnt. He and I were never dating nor did we question what we were but I did have some sort of feelings for him, so thats why his name calling hurt me more than it should've.
"I dare you to kiss mason, on the lips. no side kiss bullshit." the room woo'd at the last part of the dare. I shrug, I wasn't drunk but I also wasn't going to back down from a dare especially when I cockily grinned at Cameron who I swore I'd do everything to make jealous.
Mason laughs "fuck it come here." he says and I get up and walk towards him as he cups my face and kisses me, roughly yet tenderly, the booze taste in every inch of his mouth. I'm not complaining, it was a way to get drunk without actually touching a bottle.
We pulled apart and I sat back down, crossing my legs and the room was now filled with laughters and multiple rounds of applause from everyone except one person, the one person that was staring from across the room.
The one with the blue eyes, who was sat directly across from me. Twirling a silver ring between his long pale fingers effortlessly, crossing my legs I stare directly at him, not moving a single bone in my body "truth or dare" I smirk, he nods. Understanding at what game I was playing.
"dare" was the first word I had heard come out of his mouth in a few days, thats how long it had been since I had heard from him.
But as those words left his mouth, the room fell quiet. Everyone feeling the tension between him and I "guys you pricks had to make it awkward..." toby says, "you heard me... dare." he says leaning forward not moving his eyes from mine.
"send a sext to the seventh person in your messages." I shrug, it wasn't some big dare that was suppose to get him going but I couldn't think of anything when he was staring at me like that. He pulls his phone out of his pocket not moving his eyes from mine "whats with the eyes McKay?".
"alright, guys, come on." Jay says "no, let them go at it." Mason says "if anything these cunts will be fucking by the end of the night." he continues placing a lit ciggie in his mouth.
Cameron scoffs typing a message "done y/l/n" he flips the phone with a smirk. My phone goes off and it was him.
i know you're mad at me, you're hot though and i'd fuck the shit out of you.
"who was it?" Everyone asks Cameron eagerly and I look up from my phone "I need to take this." I lie standing up and walking out of the room, heading straight to the bathroom.
Banging on the door to hear people having sex, I grunt kicking the door angrily before making my way downstairs to the alcohol. Sure there was alcohol upstairs but the message... the message.
I look at the alcohol, it was teasing me "here" a guy says handing me a bottle "thanks" i smile before walking off.
I didn't make it back to the room filled with Misfits, instead I down the bottle and make my way back. Only he had that kind of affect on me. The affect that makes me swoon even when I hate him, that affect that makes the purest of hearts go bad.
Time had passed and I was now 10... 11.... 20 something bottles in. The party hadn't died, infact it was more alive than ever and every single worry had disappeared... including my phone.
In a panic I run back to the place that gave me alcohol "what's the, phone." my words were slurred, of course they were I was drunk. "what?' the man had said "y/n?" a loud voice yelled from the stairs, I spin around and see Cameron.
"shit, shit." I say slowly realising and running out back hoping he wouldnt find me.
Not look where I was going, I run straight into the pool. Swimming back up I scream "FUCK" this night just turned terrible.
Cameron runs out and sees me in the pool, giving me his cocky stare once again. "get up" he says placing his hands on his hips, eventually lifting one up to rub his dome. He was fully sober, sure he had been drinking but he didnt drink enough to be even licked (partly drunk).
"no" I slur, pushing my hair out of my face. "y/n, get out." he says and I stare at him, narrowing my vision to him and only him "what are you going to call me a dish-washing prostitue again." my words continued to be slurred, but they were nothing but the truth.
Everyone outside stops, staring at him and I.
"y/n, i won't repeat myself get the fuck out." he say taking off his shoes and cap, getting in the pool before grabbing me and pulling me towards the edge "let go of me." I try shimmying out of his grip but he was strong. He lifts me up onto the ledge, using his arms as back support as he leaves them wrapped around me.
"i'm sorry." he admits and the party goes back to normal.
He was still standing in the pool "i can't hear you the music is loud." I mumble leaning foward "Im sorry" he says "as you fucking should be." I point to him and he nods.
"KISS" someone yells from above, "who the fuck" "mason" he cuts me off "and don't ever look at me like that again." I slur to him, my mind was on straight after hearing his apology. The words... not so much.
"what?" he says "you fucking staring you mud cunt." I say "I was just admiring you." he shrugs before letting go of me and lifting himself up.
"well, then stare at me like that again."
#goodguyfitz#misfits#swagger#goodguyfitz x reader#zuckles#swaggersouls#youtubers#misfits podcast#misfits fanart#fitz x reader#mccreamy#fanfiction
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