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navybrat817 · 3 months

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Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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misguidedasgardian · 6 months

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The price of war, part 2

Part 1

Summary: You are getting accustomed to your new life as the Lady of Winterfell

Warnings: it is implied that reader has a "midsize" body or rather she is plus size, cursing, forced marriage, a bit of humiliation and degradation (just between them both), talks about body shaming (not towards reader), reader is concern her body will change, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy, body changing, SMUT, body worship, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation I think, might miss some warnings but you know me.

Notes: no please this will not become a story, I just felt kinky

This happens a couple of months after the first part, but BEFORE that little flash-forward

This wasn’t easy, not at all

Cregan was not going to support your brother, but he has decided to kept you with him

You married him a couple of days later after he had you, Jace even gave you away to him with a mocking stance after he himself took his liberties with you once in Cregan’s chambers

Only once

Because the wolf didn’t want to share you, he said so himself…

The trace of Jace’s hands vanished quickly from your body, Cregan had made sure of it

Now two months had passed and even though you were the lady of Winterfell, you barely left the castle, you barely did anything…

Your days consisted of rising up with Cregan inside of you, he would fuck you tired, when you’d come to your senses he would be finishing breaking his fast, leaving you with a small feast as he went away to deals with matters of importance to the biggest of the 7 Kingdoms. He wouldn’t tell you what he’d do… you thought because they were preparing for marching…

Against your family.

You’d spend your short days… as winter was coming… sewing, reading northerners history, and chatting with servants maids and people of the castle.

They were becoming… softer towards you.

They were sweet and nice but… there was a secret arrangement between the servants and soldiers of Winterfell… you were not to leave…

Nobody would physically stop you, but those days you dared go outside to the courtyard, you felt the soldiers sting you nervously, how the maids would never leave you alone…

So you’d return inside, it was chilly anyways

At night when Cregan returned, no matter how much you’d try to initiate conversation, he would quiet you with kisses and caresses, he would take you once and again, and those sweet times when you would lay over him, your head in his chest… you try to ask him about his day…

And he would imply, annoyed, that you didn’t need to know it…

He thought you were trying to spy on him

And that made you sad

Three full moons had passed since that fateful day you landed your dragon outside the double walls of Winterfell…

And all that time alone with yourself.. had make you more aware… self aware

Something was off, as you broke your fast… alone… the sole smell of those wild boar sausages made your stomach do somersaults inside of you…

You had been feeling.. heavier lately.. more sensitive, and now you wanted to throw up

Perhaps you were dying

Catched some desease that only southerners in the north could catch…

But oh you knew the truth, deep inside

You weren’t an idiot

The maid catched you with your hands in your sensitive breasts…

The maester was called, and your doubts dissipated

You were with child

Cregan was coming home tonight and you were waiting for him with a small feast and candles lighten

You… we’re conflicted about Cregan, he was gruff, a bit wild, but he never mistreated you, he was gentle and sensual with you, and wether you had liked it or not, he was your husband…

You just wanted to melt the ice around him…

So when he entered his chambers he found you waiting for him with a soft smile

He smirked

Now you were changing tactics… he thought… you were trying to soften him, get him to lower his guards… he found it endearing

“What’s all this my sweet lady wife?”, he asked, you got nervous all of a sudden

“I wanted to tell you something…”

The child you were expecting… it was not Cregan’s first born, he already had a son, Rickon, who he wouldn’t let you meet yet… he had no need of a heir, he already had one… so you’d imagine he didn’t care much, but if he didn’t want more children… he wouldn’t have bed you as much…

You only hope this could bring you both together

“Go ahead”, he encouraged

You knew he didn’t trust you

You had this plan to ease him into it, to start dining, to chat a bit about his day, and then finally you'd tell him about your condition, but his piercing gray eyes were drilling into your nervous stare, and he seemed impatient, so you guessed it was better to just tell him.

"I'm with child", you said with a small smile.

You were happy, you always wanted to have your own family, you did, perhaps it was your father's neglect, or your mother's stern interactions with you all, but you wanted to have children of your own, just so you could love them as much and as best as you could, because you knew you could do better than what you had

Cregan chuckled darkly

"Oh my sweet, innocent little wife, I had noticed already", he purred, with his usual smirk

"Uh?", you muttered, one of your hands in your yet somewhat flat belly

"Your tits are bigger, you get all whiny when I touch them, and your waist and thighs are thicker...", he said with a mocking tone, "So I already noticed, I just wanted you to tell me"

"Oh", you whispered. You didn't see a change in his attitude towards you, perhaps he wasn't extremely happy, maybe this was what he expected from you, so that's why he wasn't particularly excited

You looked down as your nose tickled, a tell tell sign that you were about to start crying

...and your waist and thighs are thicker...

You ahd noticed how your sisters' bodies changed, both of them, Rhaenyra had lost the figure she had, you don't remember her young and thin, but older, as your mother, and thicker, but you did remember Helaena, her body, after having the twins, became softer, rounder... Aegon had made sure to point it out shortly after she gave birth... while in his cups he mocked of how he didn't desire her now with her new body

He made her cry, Aemond had grabbed him and smacked his head against the stone floor of the dinning room until Alicent cried to stop him

"I'm sorry", you muttered, and now he looked confused, "I'm afraid is a thing Targaryen women suffer while carrying a child... they loose their figure..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for", he didn't mean it like that, he thought, alarmed, when he saw you were about to cry.

You thought he had insulted you, when for him was the opposite

He took two long steps and grab you softly

"I can't wait for you to get fat with my child", he growled, you looked up into his eyes to find his pupils enlarged, ready to pounce on you, "more for me to grab, to caress, to kiss..."

"Really?", you asked, suddenly embarrassed, not really believing him

"You don't believe me little one?", he growled, his big hands, even over your dress, surrounded your and grabbed you under your ass cheeks, making you whine in surprise, "you are even more beautiful than the day you arrived here, and each passing week you'll be even more", he leaned in and kissed you then, more like... he devoured you

You completely gave in as he trapped your lips with his, you already know how it went, but this time felt different

Before you even knew it, you heard it, he ripped your dress with one tug, in a second leaving naked to his eyes

"You are so fucking delicious... can't fucking wait till' you are all round for me", he whispered adoringly, made you want to cry but this time from happiness

Still with his hands on the back of your thighs, he managed to get you off the ground and wrapping your legs around his waist, as he took you to the bed

"It seems I wasn't clear enough", he said softly, "It appears that no matter all the times I've bedded you, you still think I'm not attracted to you, that I don't take you seriously as my wife"

He placed you softly to the bed, he accommodated between your thighs. He looked down at you, admired your form, and you wanted to cover your breasts at least, feeling watched so intently...

"ah ah ah", he chided, grabbing yours arms, preventing you from covering, "you are mine to see, remember?", he took his own clothes very quickly, until he was as naked as you were.

He was a magnificent creature, his muscles visible under his beautiful skin, his body thick, his chest ample, hsi arms and legs thick as logs... his... manhood... thick, generous, you had nothing to compare it with, but it was so big... thick as almost your wrist

"You like what you see too, don't you?", that devilish smirk that made your knees tremble

You were feeling more confident, now more desired so you nodded strongly

"Yes husband" you admitted, his smirk grew even more, and his big rough hands grabbed your soft thighs, squishing them, admiring them

"Who does this thighs belong to?", he asked then, looking down at you

"To you", you answered without even thinking

"And who does this belly belong to?", he asked grabbing your sides, squeezing a bit too

"To you", you repeated, a smirk of your own appearing in your mouth, his thick but nimble fingers sneaked between your thighs then, you jumped, buckling your hips when they teased your entrance, his thumb in your clit

"And this cunt?", he teased, "that will bear me many children"

"It's yours", you moaned, spreading your legs even further, asking for more... and he indulged you sinking in another finger, to tease your insides.

"Ah", you almost lost it when he found that special spot inside of you and bullied it relentlessly until you could hear the squelching sounds you were making

"All wet for me too", he teased, "so precious, my beautiful, desired little wife, all mine to breed"

You didn't know why his words turned you on so much but they did.

"Please...", you begged buckling your hips once his fingers abandoned your inside

"Please what?", he teased

"Please... I need you inside me", you begged, not caring anymore, he was your husband, you wanted him and he wanted you, there was no power play, no more no between you.

"I shall indulge you then", he said, pleased, his hands would not leaving your soft thighs, squeezing them, caressing them, his eyes never leaving your form... his pupils enlarged making his eyes seem all black, his teeth... in his mouth hunger for you...

"But firt", it happened fast, he layed on his belly between your thighs and sunk in your cunt

It made you scream the contact of his wet tongue between your tongues, your hand went to his wild hairs, the other to the sheets under you

You herd him, rather, you felt him chuckle between you, making goosebumps blossom in your skin. His rough hands in your thighs, his mouth, his wet large tongue. He devoured you like a man starved.

It was not the first time he'd done it, the first time you felt akward, he could sense it, it was less intense than this, more tense rather...

But not now, when you were coming undone for the second time, and he lapped at your juices like it was water and he was parched

He finally released you when he was satted and your legs were shaking around him.

He ludely wiped his mouth with his naked arm, smiling birghtly at you from above

"Fucking delicious", he but as moaned, "now that you indulged me, love, I'll indulge you"

"Wait... wait i can't"

"Yes you can, just take it my love", he teased, he took his hand wet with your arousal to his cock, stroking it. You whimpered, your senses heightened.

You whimpered again, but you welcomed him spreading your legs wider.

He entered you slowly but steadily, you melted under him as you felt every centimeter of his thick cock.

"Oh gods", you whined your head falling back

"It's not your gods, my love, it's me", he growled, "your loving husband"

He wasted no time in moving, retrieving himself until his very tip, making you whine and then he sank himself back inside you to the hilt, with more purpose this time

"You look so beautiful like this", he teased, "taking my cock, so full of it"

"I like it", its the only thing you were able to mutter, your mind clouded

"Of course you do", his strong arms were placed by the side of your face, you could see his muscles working as he kept himself from crushing you under his weight

His thrusts were deep and strong, you could swear the tip of his cock reached your belly every time.

"You are going to look so beautiful", he said, "more than you already do, but don't think this is going to end", he promised with a dark smile, "it will only get more frequent, I won't be able to keep myself from you", he kept ramming into you

The bed make dangerous sounds under you, threatening to break, you you didn't care

"Are you well?", he had to ask, your eye had rolled almost to the back of your head, you were shaking and moaning without restraint

"Please don't stop", you begged making him chuckled darkly

"I love you", he promised in the middle of his grunts, keeping his rhythm steady, just as you needed.

That did managed to slip in your mind

"You do?", you asked, grabbing onto his arms, looking into his eyes

"I fucking do, from the moment I saw you enter that room I knew, you belonged with me", he promised, as he resumed his thrusts, "I needed to have you, breed you", you moaned, feeling your orgasm building again, "and turn you into my little slut", you whined in protest but he quieted you down with a dark chuckle, "now here you are, desperate for my cock, aren't you?", you nodded quickly, "of course you are you little thing"

"Please", you begged

"Admit it", he teased, fucking you slowly

"I am, I love it", you whispered, giving up so easily, there was no reason to hide it

"Good girl", his hand cradled your cheek, his thumb caressed your cheek

"I love you too", you whispered, he fucked you harder, finally cuming inside of you

That triggered your own climax

You almost lost consciusness

You certainly missed your husband chuckling at you, leaving your form, and cuddling you next to him, after bringing you water

#cregan stark x y/n #cregan x you #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan smut #cregan x reader #cregan x y/n #cregan stark #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #targaryen!reader

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the-kr8tor · 8 months

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The one with the baby

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Synopsis: You meet Mayday for the first time.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, talks of having children, cw food mention, established relationship, Domestic Hobie, FLUFF.

My Masterlist

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*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Toeing off your sneakers you hear an unmistakable babble of a baby. You perk up at the unexpected sound, carefully treading inside your shared flat, bag still slinged over your shoulder, carabiner of keys clinking in your hand.

The sight in front of you has you in a mixture of emotions, surprised at the red headed baby in your boyfriend's arms, curious at where he got the said baby, and anxious at the sudden responsibility of the prospect of Hobie adopting a child.

Big blue eyes meet yours, her attention caught by the sound of your keys. She claps her tiny hands at the sight of a new friend. Hobie follows her line of sight, a smile spreading across his face when he sees your dumbfounded face.

"Hi love, look who I got!" Hobie lifts up the baby by her armpits, she laughs cutely in his grasp.

"Hobie, when I said I have baby fever because of my cousin's newborn, I didn't mean for you to actually get a baby" you stand behind the couch, Hobie stands up from the cushion, carrying the unknown baby in his arms. Your stomach somersaults at the sight of Hobie with a baby.

You're immediately going over the back of the sofa to coo at them, legs jumping over the soft plush of the settee, bag slipping off your shoulder, falling on the carpeted floors. Foot caught in between the cushions, you almost fall flat on your face. Hobie, ever the hero, catches you before you fall, his free hand protectively holding your arm. The girl nestled in his arm tilts her head at you.

Hobie chuckles, "I would've asked you first before adopting a kid"

You straighten up, grinning at them. "What's her name?" cooing at the blushy baby, you lift your keys in front of her, rattling it, she makes grabby hands towards it.

"Her name's Mayday, Peter B's kid. You remember him, right?" Hobie adjusts his hold on Mayday so he could clasp his hand over your waist, bringing you closer. You're hip to hip with Hobie, moving away the keys in your hand, when Mayday gets a little too close at its jagged edges.

"Hi Mayday! You're a cutie aren't you?" You softly say. Hobie watches the interaction with a fond smile. "I remember Peter, he actually got you to babysit?" asking rhetorically. You look at Hobie with stars in your eyes, he can't help but kiss the corner of your smiling eye. You giggle at the kiss.

Mayday copies your giggling, clutching your shirt in her chubby hands, she looks up at you, babbling away.

"Hmm? Do you want me to carry you, baby?" You toss the keys away from Mayday, it lands on the soft settee. Clapping your hands signaling for Mayday that it's okay for her to reach towards you. "Is it okay for me to carry her, Hobie?" You stop mid clap, forgetting to ask for permission, careful not to overstep.

"It's more than alright, Peter asked for you too, y'know. He said something along the lines of 'good for practice'" he smirks at the last bit. You smile bashfully at the thought.

Mayday, scrunches her nose, annoyed that you're making her wait. "Aww, what's with that face? So impatient, baby Mayday" your hands loop around her small body, back cradling carefully at her back, you bring her to your chest, adjusting the weight. "There you go, hi" you giggle, ducking your head to meet her.

She gives you the famous Parker smile, lopsided and showing her baby teeth. Your heart clenches at the sight, making you cuddle her more.

Hobie chuckles at the scene, eyes sparkling at how gentle you are with Mayday. Unlocking something in him that he can't quite pinpoint.

Hobie crouches to talk to the toddler "You thirsty Mayday?" She nods, big eyes staring at Hobie. "Orange juice?" She nods vigorously, her curls bouncing while she moves. You move your hand over to her forehead so she doesn't get motion sick with her nodding.

You and Hobie laugh at her reaction, "I think she wants juice, orange preferably" you nod at her "yeah? Orange juice for the sweetheart?"

Mayday blows raspberries, "I'll go get it, sit down, lovey" Hobie brings his arm back from your waist, you already miss his embrace.

"Okay, me and Mayday are gonna have a chat, won't we, baby?" Hobie almost answers for Mayday, used to you calling him that.

You sit down while Hobie prepares the juice from the kitchen, grabbing some cookies for Mayday (and you) a few minutes later, he hears you screech, standing up right on the couch, arms reaching towards the ceiling.

"Hobie! Help!"

Hobie runs the small distance, eyes trained up to look at where you're trying to reach out. Mayday crawls on the ceiling, wobbling from time to time, you follow her movements angling to catch her in case she falls, while Hobie effortlessly jumps to follow Mayday on the ceiling.

"Why does she even have her own web shooters!?" You're panicking, moving to catch her from below.

Hobie catches up to the toddler, wrapping her in his arms. "Got you, you little anarchist" Mayday laughs loudly.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, "be careful going down, please" arms still stretched out towards them.

Hobie drops down from the ceiling gracefully. "She's alright" Mayday crawls over Hobie's shoulder, catching her in his hands before she topples over. "You on the other hand don't look too great"

You look terrified, gnashing and gritting your teeth together, clutching your chest, heaving loudly. "I'm fine" you say, completely lying.

"Hold the magic baby, might make you feel better" Hobie holds Mayday towards you, she mumbles for you, smiling widely.

"Magic baby?" You gather her in your arms, happy that she's safely back on the ground with you. She grabs the hem of your shirt as Mayday snuggles you, relaxing your tensed muscles. Now you know exactly what 'magic baby' meant, "ah, magic baby" you sigh, rubbing your cheek against her rosy tinted ones. Mayday savors the affection, smiling into your touch.

"Better?" Hobie places his warm hand over the back of your neck, you lean towards his touch as he guides you back to sit on the couch.

"Mm-hmm, better" sitting down, you move a stray curl away from Mayday's face. You gasp at a brilliant idea. While Hobie goes back to the kitchen to get Mayday's snacks.

Hobie hands Mayday her sippy cup full of juice, she grasps the handles with her tiny hands before she happily sips her drink, feet swaying as she sits on your lap. Your arm securing her in place, just in case she decides to swing away again.

"Baby, can you grab the hair ties from my bag?"

"You talkin' to me? Thought you forgot about me" Hobie teases, hands on his hips, feigning annoyance.

"Are you jealous of Mayday? You're still my baby y'know" you pat his leg with your foot. He grabs it, fingers threatening to tickle the underside of your foot, making you squeal. "Hobie, don't! I might drop her"

Hobie drops your leg unceremoniously, he smirks at your playful scowl. He rummages through your bag for the hair ties, handing the elastics to you.

"Thank you, kiss?" You raise your head to pout your lips towards Hobie, he rolls his eyes before he leans down to press a quick kiss. He leans away for a bit before he pecks your nose. You wiggle your nose at him as a thank you.

Mayday bonks Hobie's hand with the packet of cookies, asking him to open it for her.

"What am I a butler? You girls are spoiled" he rips the packaging open, handing it to Mayday, she makes a baby noise akin to a happy squeal.

You hug Mayday, batting your lashes towards Hobie. "It's because you spoil us, right Mayday?" The toddler's too busy munching on a butter cookie to take notice of your banter.

"She's too busy gorging herself, definitely Peter's kid" Hobie plops down next to you, placing his head on your shoulder, chin poking you slightly. His arm slides on top of the sofa, long enough to reach over Mayday, he takes a cookie from the box, feeding it to you.

You bite at the biscuit while you tie Mayday's hair into pigtails, careful not to tug too harshly. Hobie brings the remaining half of the cookie to his mouth, crumbs falling on your shirt. He promptly wipes the crumbs off before you notice.

"And…done!" You finish tying the last pigtail, her soft curls bouncing as she looks up at you, a cookie on her mouth, crumbs all over her chubby cheeks, her blue eyes twinkling in the light. "Oh look at you! So adorable!"

You coo at her while she continues eating. Hobie watches as you wipe the crumbs off her cheeks gently with your thumb, giving her a little kiss on top of her head. His heart blossomed at the sight. A switch flips inside his head, an important question swirls in his mind. Now he's the one with baby fever.

Hobie plants a kiss behind your ear to get your attention.

"Yeah, baby?" Voice full of adoration. You crane your neck, leaning against his chest, his jumper warm against your cheek, you look at him through your lashes.

"What do you think? 'bout kids?" He asks softly.

"Having one or just in general?"

"The former" he mutters out, arm sliding away from the back of the sofa towards your torso, hugging you tightly.

"Not now, but someday" you grin at the possibility of having a little version of Hobie running around, oh the chaos that would ensue. "One day, definitely. You?" Asking tentatively.

"Yeah, with you, yeah" He mirrors your smile, already thinking of a little you following him around. You tuck your face on the crook of his neck, cuddling into him. "Wait, a baby with me, right?" He jokes but you take it seriously.

You knit your eyebrows together, "of course, what the fuck" you whisper out the last word so that Mayday couldn't hear you. "Who else? You dork"

"One day, huh" Hobie whispers against your temple, before he leaves a warm kiss over it. You close your eyes, smiling softly at the affection.

"Yeah, one day" Your heart flutters, excited for what the future holds.

Mayday finishes her snacks, she stretches her legs, yawning as she climbs further into your arms. You notice her sleepiness, "come on sleepyhead" placing her on your chest, hand protectively over her small form. She happily closes her eyes, laying on top of you, looking at the bundle of cuteness through exhausted eyes.

Hobie reads your tired expressions, he moves you down to his lap so that you're fully laying down, he rests his hand on top of Mayday, palm over your hand that's also cradling the toddler.

Mayday falls asleep almost immediately, you look up to see Hobie staring fondly at you two.

"I Love you" you whisper.

"Love you too, sleep, Peter will pick her up in a few hours" He wipes a stray crumb he missed on your shoulder.

"Aww, miss her already" you fight a yawn.

"I'll ask Peter if she can visit us next time, yeah? Sounds good?"

"Yeah, I really love you, y'know" you say softly, reaching up to caress his cheek. He holds your hand, leaning his cheek against your warmth.

"I know" Hobie pecks your knuckles. He holds your hand, while his other hand stays over to yours and Mayday's sleeping form.

He watches you close your eyes, a ghost of a smile over your lips.

—

Peter opens the portal on your rooftop. After he was chastised by Hobie for opening a portal right in your shared living room, your knick knacks flying around the modest space, breaking some of it. Hobie will never babysit Mayday ever again if he does the same thing again.

So he creeps to the side of the building, crawling towards the familiar window. He peeks through the glass, looking for his daughter's unmistakable red hair.

He coos loudly as he sees the trio asleep on the settee, Peter opens the window slowly and quietly. Landing softly inside, he takes the opportunity to take his phone out of his pocket, taking countless pictures of you three asleep on the sofa.

Peter can't wait to send the pictures to the group chat, Hobie might decline his next babysitting favour but judging from how you're embracing Mayday as if she's your own, that wouldn't be much of a problem from now on.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️

Requests are open for my 500 celebration 🎉 (Fluffy Fridays)

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fluff #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #atsv x reader #hobie fluff #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x fem!reader #spider punk #spider punk x you #cw food mention #fanfic

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heich0e · 10 months

Text

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical traits, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

And a week after that terrible storm, Megumi pulls on his coat, locks up the clinic for the night, and heads to the nearby izakaya.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know her.”

Megumi deflates a little, leaning forward onto his elbows atop the service counter at the izakaya. The young man behind the bar looks sincerely apologetic that he can’t be of more help to him, a remorseful frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“That’s fine,” Megumi says, smothering his burgeoning disappointment as best he can—blanketing it in a familiar air of indifference. “It was years ago.”

He’d asked for you when he arrived at the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, having weaselled your family name out of Yuuji who’d in turn pressed Nanami for it—the elder man deeming a simple name suitably fair to share since it wasn’t particularly personal information, not least of all because he’s seemingly incapable of denying Yuuji anything he asks for. But the server who Megumi approached when he first arrived at the neighbourhood izakaya, the same establishment he’d visited with the old man all those years ago that hasn’t changed a bit since that day, didn’t seem to have any knowledge of you ever working there.

“I’ve only been here for a year,” the young man says, ruffling the back of his cropped hair sheepishly and glancing down the bar in the direction of the busy kitchen. “I could ask around, though? See if someone—”

“No, that’s alright,” Megumi cuts him off, bowing stiffly in his direction with his arms pinned down at his sides. “You’ve done more than enough. Thank you for your time.”

Megumi swiftly turns and heads in the direction of the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The izakaya is noisy around him as he crosses the restaurant towards the exit, full of people unwinding after a long day of work, sharing food and drinks and talking too loudly just to be heard over the cacophonous din. He’s never really liked the overly-boisterous atmosphere of these kinds of places, which is why he’s always preferred to drink at home—but every so often Yuuji or Nobara manages to draw him into an evening out at bars just like this one.

The man just wants to get back to his little apartment where he can enjoy some peace and quiet, and nurse the nagging feeling of disappointment he feels prickling in his hollow chest.

He’s only a few doors up the road from the building, making his way back in the direction of home, when he hears a ruckus behind him.

“Excuse me!… Excuse me, sir!”

Megumi pauses in his stride and glances back over his shoulder in the direction of the shouting, only to see the young man from behind the bar racing up the sidewalk towards him with his apron strings flapping in his haste. He’s a little winded by the time he reaches Megumi, hunching forward with his hands braced on his thighs atop the overhang of his apron as he struggles to catch his breath.

“The cook… said…”

Megumi can barely understand what the boy is trying to say to him. He’s a little concerned by how out of breath he is, too. After a few more seconds of panting heavily, the young man looks up.

“The cook said he knew her. The girl you’re looking for.”

Megumi’s eyes widen, his stomach doing an unpleasant little somersault in his core.

The server stands up straight, swallowing thickly. He’s more composed now after his sprint. He gives Megumi your name, your full name—both given and family—and Megumi recognizes it. “He said a student with that name worked here a few years ago, but she left when she got pregnant.”

Megumi’s hands clench into fists in the pockets of his coat.

The young man looks a bit sheepish. “I hope this helps. I don’t know if you remember, but you took good care of my family’s dog a few years ago at your clinic. I… wanted to repay you.” He bows earnestly in the vets direction, a full bend at his waist.

Megumi thinks he might vaguely remember him, though his hair was longer, he didn’t have the piercings in his ears, and his cheeks were rounder with baby fat back then. “Shino-kun?”

The boy lifts his head and nods eagerly, perking up at the recognition.

His family had an inordinately rotund dachshund named Vienna. Like the sausage.

“Thank you for your help,” Megumi says to him, and he means it.

Shino nods in recognition of the thanks.

Megumi moves to leave, but pauses. “The cook… does he have her contact info?”

The boy shakes his head, and Megumi feels that same flare of disappointment swell with renewed vigour, staring down at his feet on the pavement as he tries not to let it show. He supposes it would be strange to get that kind of information from him anyway. For all intents and purposes, he’s just some stranger trying to track a woman down, who in their right mind would—

“He said the last he heard she was working at the family restaurant a few blocks away, near the park—”

Megumi’s eyes snap up towards the server again.

“—do you know the one?”

Yes. He does.

The old man used to take him there sometimes for lunch when he was still working at the clinic, because Megumi had a tendency to skip his midday meal. The waitresses all knew the old man by name, and he’d told Megumi that he and his wife had their first date in that very restaurant decades prior. It’s an ancient little spot that’s been there for far longer than Megumi’s lived in the neighbourhood.

And he just so happens to have to pass it on his way back home.

The neon sign that hangs over the old family restaurant paints the evening street in its glow as Megumi stands outside the diner.

It’s late; encroaching on an hour that Nobara would affectionately call ‘past his bedtime’ since Megumi tends as a matter of habit to be a man who’s early to bed and early to rise. But regardless of the hour, Megumi can’t seem to make his feet carry him any further. Neither back to his home, nor through the business’s door.

Through one of the windows, past the reflective fluorescence from the lights outside, he sees you.

You’re standing at a table by the window, chatting with a couple whose meal you’ve just served. You have a smile on your face, but it’s not quite the smile that Megumi remembers—neither as bright, nor as carefree as the one in his memory. You don’t look the same either.

You’re older than you were back then—though certainly still not old by any means—but he supposes that’s only natural given how much time has passed since that first night he met you. He didn’t look at you properly that night you came to the clinic. Didn’t take the time to really observe you. All he can really remember is how soaking wet you were, and how you didn’t want to meet his gaze.

You meet it now.

You catch sight of him through the window just before you leave your patrons to enjoy their meal, and even from a distance Megumi can see the way your expression changes. He can see how startled you look as you catch sight of him.

You’re not wrong to look surprised, and he can’t help but blame you. He’s some man you’ve met twice now, the instances half a decade apart, who’s managed to track down your place of employment. But at the same time, Megumi can’t help but think that there’s a greater anxiety that underlies your wide-eyed expression—a more considerable fear that’s palpable, even from so far away.

You appear outside, wrapped up in a puffy jacket, a few minutes later.

“Hello, Fushiguro-san,” you greet him quietly, bowing a bit awkwardly in his direction.

He returns the greeting with your own name, and you look surprised that he knows it.

“What brings you here at this time of night?”

“Where’s Kota?” Megumi ignores your question in favour of one of his own.

Your lips pull into a thin line at the mention of your son.

“The obaachan who lives next door to us watches Kota when I work nights,” you say, and your tone is colder now. Sharpened like a blade you wield in defence.

An unpleasant silence wraps around you both, the discomfort and the tension of it nipping at your heels and urging you to run.

“That’s a lot of work for an old woman.”

“She’s happy to do it. Her children have all moved away,” you seem to only very narrowly be keeping resentment from your shaking voice.

“Why doesn’t Kota’s father watch him?” Megumi asks, and his gaze is level and unyielding as it meets your own.

Your jaw sets, and a flare of something white-hot and protective kindles behind your eyes.

“He can’t.”

A car passes on the street behind Megumi, but neither of you pay it any mind.

“Why?"

“He’s busy.”

“Too busy to take care of his own child?” Megumi isn’t trying to sound so angry, but the emotion makes itself known in his voice without even trying. He doesn’t mean to antagonize you like this. It’s not what he came here to do. But he can’t seem to force himself to be direct with you.

“Yes.”

“Doing what?” Megumi presses again, unrelenting in his pursuit.

“Drop it,” you tell him warningly, hissing the caution through your teeth.

He doesn’t heed your words.

“Where is Kota’s father?” he asks one final time, and it’s the question that makes the fraying thread of your patience finally snap.

“Bothering me outside my place of work,” you hiss, your eyes narrowed and resentful. “Is that what you came here for? Are you happy now?”

Happy?

Megumi feels sick to his stomach, an almighty fwoosh wracking through him that makes him go week at the knees and threatens to make him heave up the meagre contents of his stomach in front of you, and this street, and anyone who has the misfortune of a window seat in the diner behind you. But he feels worse still when he sees the way tears are welling quickly in your eyes. When he spots the way you’re trembling.

You’re frightened.

Of him.

“Please,” you soften noticeably before his eyes, like he watches all your will to fight with him abandon you in real time. The deflation leaves you desperate when you speak again, crumpling in on yourself. You step up to him slightly, grabbing the sleeve of his coat as you plead to him. “Just go. Forget this ever happened. I don’t want anything from you. We don’t want anything from you. I-I take good care of him; he’s happy and healthy and we’re fine. I’m sorry that you found out like this, but I promise if you just leave now you don’t ever have to think of him—things can go back to how they were, and I’ll make sure we never cross paths again.”

Megumi tastes bile creeping up at the back of his too-tight throat, and his vision has gone fuzzy at the edges like he’s watching everything unfold through a tunnel.

All he can think about it the little boy with the bunny hidden under his raincoat. The racoon on his sweatshirt. The way he clung to him in his sleep.

“He’s my son?”

You pause, still holding tight to Megumi’s coat sleeve.

“Yes,” you reply quietly. “He is.”

He searches your face for any sign of duplicity, but he knows the truth. He knew it before you said it. Knew it from the moment he woke up in that cold sweat.

“You’re certain?”

He doesn’t pose the question with any ill-intent. Hardly conscious of the fact he’s asking it at all, or what the implications of such a question might be.

You flinch anyway.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Another car passes.

“He’s my son.” This time it’s not a question, but the words are brittle and breathless as Megumi speaks them. His chest aches, his head is pounding.

You’re still clutching his sleeve.

From behind you, at the corner of the building that leads to a narrow alley, a man in a stained apron with a cigarette in his hand calls your name. You whirl around in surprise.

“Break’s over!” he calls to you with a hand clasped around his mouth. He eyes you and Megumi warily, as though assessing whether or not he needs to intervene.

“Coming!” you call back to him with a blatantly forced chipper tone, waving at him with a strained smile on your face.

You turn back to Megumi, and let his sleeve slip from your grasp. The fake smile withers slowly until it disappears altogether.

“Please,” you repeat to him one last time, quieter now that the line cook is still lingering nearby, but no less desperate. “Just forget about this. About us.”

You turn to head back towards the restaurant, and Megumi lets you go.

Until he doesn’t.

“Wait.”

You freeze, but you don’t turn to face him again. He can see the way you hold yourself around your midsection, your shoulders slightly hunched forward like you’re bracing yourself for something.

“Come to the clinic tomorrow.”

“I work tomorrow.”

“Then come before you work. Or after,” Megumi can’t help but sound irritated at your refusal. He has a right to ask you more questions. To get more answers.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and you look wary.

“Kota goes to daycare at 8. It’s not far,” you say, though your tone is reluctant. “I can come just after that.”

The clinic doesn’t open until 9, so that works for him.

He nods curtly in agreement, and then you do the same.

The cook calls your name again.

You step towards the restaurant.

“The bunny’s doing well.”

You pause in your stride and turn back to Megumi with a look of surprise on your face—the most open, and least defensive expression he’s seen since the two of you began speaking.

Megumi struggles to meet your gaze now, and looks away briefly. He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“You can… tell Kota that. If you want.” He glances fleetingly towards you, just in time to see the ghost of a smile flicker at he corner of your lips.

“I will,” you reply quietly. “He’ll be happy to hear that. Thank you, Fushiguro-san.”

Megumi watches as you skitter back towards the restaurant, bowing apologetically to the cook as you head quickly down the alley towards what Megumi can only assume is the staff entrance.

He turns on his heel on the sidewalk and heads in the direction of home, ignoring the gaze of your colleague as he walks away.

A son.

He has a son.

A little boy who looks just like him.

A little boy named Kota.

Megumi still feels sick, and his head is spiralling with a hundred questions he can’t begin to understand how to parse through in a coherent way. A hundred things he never dreamed he’d need to know. Never wanted to.

But he’ll see you tomorrow at 8AM, so as long as he makes sense of at least a few of the unintelligible questions running through his mind by then, he’ll finally have the chance to get some answers.

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #mini megumi #LOL i'm posting this because it's been written for weeks and i just want to get it off my hard drive feel free to ignore

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killingdove · 1 year

Note

could we perhaps get some headcanons for the ishgardian trio realizing the moment they fell for the reader/wol 👀👀👀

ishgardian trio ➳ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

A/N: ooh i love this request so much!! i hope these are to your liking dearest anon ♡

𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐘𝐑𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

it was in the way you sliced not only your foes but the way you sliced through the air as well when you were in battle

you may or may not worship halone but either way you were clearly bestowed the gift of combat prowess by her grace

when you’d have sparring matches together, estinien would never go easy on you as he finds that disrespectful but you knock the breath out of him physically and metaphorically whenever you win

there was a day where the practice match ended in you managing to get estinien’s back to fall atop the ground and you were pointing your weapon’s tip at him proudly from your standing position

“don’t tell me you’ve gone easy on me, wyrmblood,” you smirk

estinien stares up at you with wide eyes as he feels his heart skip a beat

but he quickly schools his elegant elezen features into his usual scowl

“of course not. who do you take me for?”

laughing, you help him up and he swears the contact between your hands ignited something within him, something different and incomparable to nidhogg’s rage that he felt all the time

he comes to find your laugh is like music to his ears

he also realizes he wants to hear more of the sound, and he uses that dry humor of his to elicit more of them from you from that day onwards which results in more small smiles from him

he’s doomed

𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄

when he wrote and poured his heart into the missive that would later grant you and the scions access to ishgard, he stopped at one point after going on a spiel about you in ink

he had unwittingly went on to sing your highest praises and much of it read like a love letter

it was during his reminiscing of your good deeds as he wrote did he realize the pure adoration and emotion he felt for you

haurchefant gets embarrassed by himself, a blush rising to his cheeks as he sets the paper aside to start anew

he was nervous such a prodigious hero as yourself would not return his feelings

not only that but he did not want to risk his father blabbering about the contents of the missive to you

later, he sees you that day and feels his stomach doing somersaults

you were just so radiant, bringing hope and happiness wherever you tread

“be still my beating heart…” he mumbles to himself before he approaches you with a smile

as usual, he was his jovial and enthusiastic, caring self

but if one were to look closely enough, the dead giveaway of his love for you was evident within his eyes as they’d crinkle at the corners with his genuine smiles

𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐋

he had always admired you from the moment he started following your expeditions and learning of your successes

but he never knew the extent of how deep his feelings ran for you as time had passed with working with you

it wasn’t until he invites you for a one-on-one dinner within the Borel manor

that evening he got to know you better, and the back and forth conversations you had over steak and wine did nothing but stoke the flames of his growing love

when the topic had shifted to romance, he felt heat circulating within his cheeks

the way you talked about your past lovers however, caused a different heat within him; one that bespoke of jealousy

it was an ugly feeling that twisted him on the inside, one he was not quite familiar with but nevertheless he hid it well

he had asked what you found attractive in a partner eventually totally for the sake of carrying conversation and not because he was curious to see if he was the warrior of light’s type nooooo

aymeric found himself comparing his likeness to your standards and it suddenly hit him with startling clarity mid-way through rejoicing internally that he shared your type’s physical attributes

uh oh

the concern on your face when he lets his mask slip for just a moment makes him fall even harder for you if anything

with his newfound revelation, he says nothing is amiss and diverts your attention towards sharing your experiences with beastmen

all the while he’s screaming inside

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madelynraemunson · 4 months

Text

Bonus scene 𓆩♡𓆪

from the CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT universe (18+)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

timeline: 015, THIS SCENE, 016** | ** = smut

Eddie has an important question to ask you on your birthday.

contains: fluff, physical touch, flirting, loverboy!eddie, romantic eddie, implied history of abuse from billy

wc: 1k words

*play this while you read to really be immersed in st nostalgia* 🥹 (if you want)

♡

“Oh no,” you breathe.

Everything starts to make more sense when you see Steve waiting for you at Hellfire’s doors. He’s got the smuggest look on his face. You quickly try to turn and run the other way, already embarrassed. But the former Star Athlete is faster, immediately lunging at you to drag you into the club.

“Nope!” Harrington protests.

“Steve-” you begin.

“No no no no,” he shakes his head. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”

They’re all gonna see you like this. You hate to admit it, but you had just spent your entire commute crying — evident by your raccoon eyes — because you thought everyone (except for Billy) had forgotten your birthday.

Robin and Vicky were already out of the house by the time you woke up. Max, you assumed, got a ride from Steve to their new barista job. Chrissy turned down a pre-shift ‘Hot Girl Walk’, and Eddie never called. It was starting to feel like the most Adult birthday ever, but by a long shot not the worst.

“Put me down!” you persist.

Birthdays suck. Especially when you share one with your abuser. But you’re in a new era now. An era where you are loved, celebrated, and protected.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHY GIRL!”

You’re bombarded by obnoxious kazoos and party hats, streamers and confetti in all shapes and colors, and what looks like a homemade birthday cake in Jane (Mike’s girlfriend)’s hands, decorated with funky, florescent candles, and crafty red hearts that overpowered every inch of the thick white fondant.

“Oh my god,” you beam.

Max, Robin and Vicky. Chrissy, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Henry. Will, Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Jane, and Erica who also just had a birthday (she turned 18 last week). Steve. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. All the faces you’ve grown to know and love since moving to Hawkins, all together in one room to celebrate YOU.

“We were trying so hard to keep this a secret,” Steve explains as he gives you a hug. “I’d say we did a pretty good job.”

“Yeah sorry we couldn’t get a better location,” Mike adds. “Chuck E Cheese was fully booked so Hellfire was the next best thing.”

“You guyssss,” you begin to sob. “This is oddly perfect. Thank you.”

“Well,” Jane says. She holds the cake up to your face. “There's no sense in waiting any longer. Make a wish!”

You close your eyes. I wish for life to always be this peaceful.

And when you open your eyes, you see Eddie in front of you, with a beautiful rose bouquet and a bag in his hands.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

His eyes are twinkling like a kid who woke up early on Christmas morning. You greet him with a warm hug to which he uses that opportunity to affectionately rub your back. You hear some soft “aww”s in the background, but you’re too infatuated with the man in front of you to jokingly scorn at whoever said it.

“How’d you know it was my birthday?” you ask him.

“You can find out lot of stuff from paperwork,” Eddie winks at you. “Specifically your resume. Which, might I say, is very impressive.”

“Why, thank you, sir,” you giggle.

You can tell the sir made Eddie’s stomach do somersaults. Completely blushing now, he hands you your gift in the form of a bag, ushering you to open it — right here — in front of everybody.

"You didn't have to..." you mutter quietly.

You take the bag from him.

"Yet… I did," Eddie spews confidently. He watches as you unwrap your gift. “I’d get you strippers but then it’d feel like work. And your bday should never feel like work.”

You nudge him as you roll your eyes. Such a fucking cornball.

But then you become the cornball. A tear begins to form in your eyes when you look at all your gifts. The roses. A custom metalhead Build-A-Bear with a leather jacket and jeans whose certificate reads “Eddie Bear”, and a gold plated charm bracelet from Everlasting Memories with your name engraved on it. But just when you think you had everything, Eddie scoops up the last one from the bottom. It’s a small wooden sign with a message on it.

CAN I BE YOUR BOYFRIEND?

“Oh my god…” is all you can say.

His voice is as gentle as the fingers he uses to patiently graze your arm. "So can I?"

The tear that formed in your eye finally trickles its way down your rosy red cheeks. "Of course you can."

Then you two share a kiss, eliciting an even louder swarm of “aww”s than the ones before, and generating a reaction from nearby, a very curious dancers.

“I hope you know how special you are to each and every one of us,” Eddie says to you. “Especially me, haha.”

You wipe the happy tears away from your eyes.

“It sure feels like it.”

Eddie gives you the day off and you use it to stuff your face and play board games with all your friends. Eventually after the short festivities you stay behind to chill with everyone for a bit. Then you go your own way to start making dinner, which you insisted on, at home.

When you get home, you’re surprised with another text message from Billy.

Billy Hargrove

I’d say the move has helped us a lot. I have room to miss you 🤣

You smile as you answer back.

To be better days ❤️ Happy birthday, brother. I miss you tons.

Billy Hargrove loved “To better days ❤️ Happy birthday, brother. I miss you tons.”

After your convo with Billy, you make your way over to the freezer to grab and defrost the chicken. Tonight’s menu consists of chicken, greens, and potatoes for dinner, followed by some birthday muffins Bob Newby had his bakers make at his coffee shop (courtesy of Max and Steve) for dessert.

Next, you begin to set the table, making sure to make seven settings for tonight: you, Max, Robin, Vicky, one for Eddie, and one for Wayne.

And when you’re finally done, you take a look around your house that you have made a home with your sister and best friends. You’re finally home. Hawkins is home. And for the first time in a really long time, you can truly say you’ve had… a happy birthday.

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things 5 #joe quinn #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fluff

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ladytauria · 7 months

Note

27. "I'm pregnant" With DickTim (but perhaps both are very much cis and the person who said it is drunk or got hit on the head or idk)

it took me a sec to figure out what i wanted to do for this prompt; and then when i did, how to execute it, but. i had a lot of fun writing this prompt, lol. i hope you enjoy!

“I cannot believe the love of my life would betray me like this,” Dick says, pressing his hand to his heart, dramatics fueled by the way Tim’s eyes are dancing. “How could you, Timmy?” His voice wavers with suppressed mirth.

Tim bites back laughter. He’s unfairly pretty, wearing one of Dick’s old university tees over lounge pants; face flushed pink with both amusement and the wine they’d been drinking. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“No— I was gonna spend the rest of my life with you! But you— I can’t recover from this.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, baby, but—” He blinks rapidly, wiping a non-existent tear from his eye. “It’s over.”

Tim clutches his hands over his chest. “You can’t leave me.” There’s a flash of something playful and wicked on his face before his eyes go wide and round. He steps forward, clutching at Dick’s arm with one hand, the other falling over his stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Dick chokes. “You’re—”

They stare at each other for a moment, and then—Dick’s not sure which of them cracks first, only that they fall into each other, both of them shaking with laughter as they sink to the floor.

Eventually, their mirth fades; giggles slowly coming to an end. Tim lets go of Dick’s arm so he can pull it around his shoulders, settling against Dick’s side. Dick slips his hand under Tim’s t-shirt, cupping his hip and stroking his skin with his thumb. Tim hums, resting his head on Dick’s shoulder, tipping back to look up at him.

“Love of your life, huh?” he whispers, stroking his fingers over Dick’s forearm.

Dick’s face warms. “I— Well.” Dick is an affectionate person, especially when they’re alone. There’s nothing he loves more than to wrap himself around Tim and remind him—physically, verbally—that he loves him. Call him a sap, a sentimental fool, he doesn’t care. But—hearing the joking phrase echoed back at him… it trips him up, a little.

Tim’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. It’s a soft, sweet smile, one reserved for Dick alone. It never fails to make him feel all gooey inside. “You’re the love of mine, too,” he murmurs, turning so he can smear a kiss on Dick’s neck.

Dick would swear his heart was doing quadruple somersaults in his chest. “Yeah?” His voice is almost embarrassingly breathless.

“Yeah,” he whispers, reaching up to stroke over Dick’s cheek.

Dick leans into it, then turns to kiss Tim’s palm. He lets the kiss linger for a moment. Then, he scoops Tim up, manhandling him into his lap; earning a startled intake of breath and then a surprised, pleased smile as Tim winds his arms around his neck. Dick cups his face, peppering kisses all over it, until Tim is shaking with giggles again.

Then he stops, nose against Tim’s cheek, lips at his jaw. “So… about that pregnancy,” he says, leadingly.

Tim huffs a laugh. “I can’t get pregnant, Dick. You know that.”

Dick sucks a kiss into his jaw, delighting in the sharp intake of breath that gets him. “I dunno, Timmy,” he murmurs. “Won’t know unless we try, will we?”

Tim grips his shoulder with one hand. The other tangles in his hair. “You— You know, you might be right. Might, uh. We might have to try a few times. Just to make sure.”

Dick’s hands slip under Tim’s borrowed t-shirt. “I vote we start now,” he says, trailing his mouth down Tim’s jaw.

Tim gasps again, fingers tightening in Dick’s hair. “Motion granted,” he says, and tugs Dick’s head back to capture his mouth in a searing kiss.

[ prompt list ]

Read it on AO3

#this is kinda messy im sorry xD #also it might be on of the silliest things ive ever written xDDD #thank u for the prompt!#deepwithintheabyss #asks and answers #tauriawrites #tauriawritesfanfic #dicktim #dcu

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dewedup · 8 months

Note

I feel like no one sees my vision, so please do not feel bad if you don't either:

In my mind Phantom is actually not at all innocent and the others just assume he is because he's kinda quiet because he doesn't know them that well yet. But then one day he ends up in bed with Rain and Rain is thinking he's going to be naive and innocent, but once he tries to tease him Phantom is like; actually,

²¹⁾ “if you want to come, you’ll have to beg.”

And rain is like 👀 damn, guess I'm begging tonight...

I just think Rain and Dew would think "yeah we can fuck the newbie silly, have him wrapped around or fingers" but phantom would just fucking destroy them (beautifully and consensually).

I'm talking too much and not making much sense. I just really vibed with that sentence in the prompts...

I hope your day is going well and that if this prompt doesn't appeal to you you'll get some that do!! 💜

omg nonny how could i NOT write this??

i SEE the vision, i FEEL this vision, i hope this IS the vision!!!

²¹⁾ “if you want to come, you’ll have to beg.”

phantrain, top!phantom, bottom!rain, basically rain gets his world rocked

Rain and Phantom have been making out lazily in the water ghoul’s bed for hours. All hot puffs of air, lips tracing skin and soft breathy moans.

Phantom’s a little bit of an enigma, floating from one ghoul to the next and leaving them all tight-lipped and refusing to share any details of their escapades. Even Dew, who he’d joked with about fucking Phantom silly and getting him cockdrunk on them, didn’t utter as much as a word about how he’d had the quint ghoul wrapped around his finger the other night. And Dew isn’t usually one to shy away from a good kiss and tell.

If anything, it’s made Rain want this even more. To have the small ghoul pliable under his fingers, taking what he gives him and keening under his praise. It must really be an out of body experience if it’s left loud-mouthed Dew speechless.

Rain let out a gasp as fingers brushed his hole, already stretched to take a few from earlier exploration. Phantom’s opening had received the same treatment, taking turns pushing each other open wide. Rain’s versatile, never opposed to a good dicking down, but mostly prefers being a top. Has imagined bending Phantom in on himself as Rain slams ruthlessly into him, needs it like he needs oxygen to breathe.

Rain grasps his cock, moving slightly to hover in a position where he can drag it lazily around Phantom’s slick hole, moving in light circles and only applying the faintest hint of pressure.

Faster than he can blink he’s being flipped over, pushed into the bed hard with Phantom wasting no time shoving his cock as far as he can into Rain, burying himself deeply. The sound that leaves Rain’s lips is partly surprised, coming out in a higher pitch than he’s ever heard himself make. His whole world view has shifted in the span of milliseconds and now he’s being filled up, pushed to his limits while Phantom’s dick brushes against the softest part of him.

“If you want to come,” Phantom growls, licking a fat stripe up Rain’s neck, nipping slightly at the tender skin. “You’ll have to beg.”

Rain’s cock jumps at the command, pre splashing onto his stomach as he looks up in genuine surprise at the tiny ghoul above him. He doesn’t look so tiny now, crowding Rain with his hands slightly above his shoulders, face inches from his own, and his cock carving its own home inside Rain’s asshole.

“S-shit,” Rain breathes, clenching down on the thing filling him up completely. This is… unexpected. Rain has built this fantasy up over the last few weeks, painstakingly creating layers of exactly how this would play out, never once considering this turn of events. It’s almost too much all at once, the sensation, the mental and physical somersault he’s just been victim to.

But Rain’s versatile, can roll with the proverbial punches. So, he mentally shrugs while physically bearing down on the cock splitting him open.

Looks like I’m begging tonight.

It’s early the next morning when Rain enters the kitchen, slowly easing his way onto the chair, lower body on fire from the way Phantom absolutely ruined him last night.

Dew’s up, sipping at his scalding hot coffee and eyeing Rain’s movements with a calculating look. He grabs Rain a mug of his own, making it the way the water ghoul prefers before taking a seat and sliding it across the table to him. Rain blushes as he offers his thanks, taking a sip of the beverage.

“So… Phantom?” Dew ventures, a knowing smirk dancing across his face. If possible, Rain blushes even harder, eyes widening as he tries to look anywhere but at the fire ghoul taunting him from the other side of the table. The fucker knew this was how it’d go down and didn’t even give a ghoul a curtesy warning.

Phantom enters the kitchen quietly, making his way to the refrigerator, letting a hand float out to drag across Rain’s shoulders as he props open then fridge door. Rain’s skin burns where the touch lingers like a ghost, truly wishing the ground would open up and swallow him back to the pit in this particular moment.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, he sees Swiss making his way down the hallway, face splitting into a grin as he surveys the water ghoul.

“Phantom took you for a ride, yeah?”

#thank you nonny #the band ghost ficlet #the band ghost #phantrain #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #gloom writes #fic prompt

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makemyworldworthliving · 9 months

Text

Baby

Larissa Weems x reader

Ahhh so this is my first ever fic and I’m so scared to post it 🤦🏻‍♀️ I’ve written three parts so far but just gonna post this for now to see the reaction 🥰 please be kind.

Part one: Late night walks.

25 years old. You were 25 years old and still lived at home with your parents. You lay awake, staring at the ceiling. You sighed before taking a look at your phone, the screen shining bright in your face. 4am, and still no sleep. You sit up on the edge of your bed, finger tips tapping the edge of the bed slowly. You decide to get up, get dressed, and go for a stroll.

You lived in a peaceful, quiet area. Not too far from Nevermore academy. No one would be out this late, or so you thought. You took a slow walk past the school, just about being able to see it over the giant wall. You were miles away, listening to your music. Suddenly, you bumped into a woman. You stumbled back, but managed to steady your feet. You took out you earphones and look up, ready to apologise. Before any words could leave your mouth, you suddenly loss all sense of everything around you. All you could focus on was this beautiful woman. She was tall, much taller than you, had grey/blond hair that was done up just right, and has the most beautiful shade of red lipstick you had ever seen. Before you managed to get a word, or even a sound out, she spoke softly. ‘’I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t see you there, I was in a world of my own. Are you alright?’’ Were you alright? Physically yes, but your stomach was doing somersaults . Who on earth was this woman and why has she made you lose the ability to act like a normal human being. You shake your head lightly and let out a soft laugh. ‘’Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry for bumping into you, I was distracted. Are you okay?’’ You swallowed hard as she smiled at you. ‘’I’m fine, darling.’’

Darling. Now why did that word send a shiver down your spine.

She notices you looking up at the school. ‘’Where are my manners, I’m Larissa. Larissa Weems, principle of Nevermore Academy.’’ She reaches her hand out for your own. You admire her soft, velvet gloves, and you place your hand in hers. Something about her hand in yours, no matter how simple, felt just right. ‘’I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Weems.’’ You nod your head and smile, and let your hand stay with hers just while longer than needed. ‘’if you don’t mind me asking, y/n, what are you doing out at this time? I never see anyone on my walks.’’ She tilts her head at you slightly.

‘’Oh, I couldn’t sleep. So I just decided a walk would be best.’’ You sigh and look to the ground. ‘’To be honest, I don’t have anything to catch sleep for these days.’’ You move your feet around, awkwardly. ‘’Oh? How so?’’ Larissa asks with what seems like genuine concern. Shit, you think to yourself. Now you’re going to look like a complete fool to this woman when you tell her you have no job, no life, and still live at home. You blush slightly as you can see she’s waiting for an answer, a sympathetic smile on her soft face. ‘’I… don’t have a job, yet. I mean, I did! For a while, but it just… didn’t work out. So I had to stay at home with my parents… which is highly embarrassing’’ you laugh trying to get the feeling of wanting the ground to eat you to go away.

‘’I actually have a job offer you might be interested in.’’ Your eyes dark up, locking with hers. ‘’It’s not the most, glamorous of jobs but it’s honest work for honest pay.’’ She takes out a small business card from her purse and hands it to you with a smile. ‘’I need a cleaner for my office, with all the work I have everyday I just simply can’t keep on top of it. I’d be more than happy to take you on.’’ Her eyes glistened, and she appears much closer to you now than she was before.

‘’Oh, well I, if you’re sure-‘’ before you can finish she cuts you off, waving her hand in front of her face. ‘’Consider yourself hired, love.’’ She smiles and checks her watch. ‘’My, we’ve been talking a while, I must head back, but please, come and see me Friday and we can discuss your job properly.’’ She gives your arm a slight squeeze before walking away, her hips swaying from side to side. You watch in amazement, holding the card in your hand.

What had just happened? You blinked a few times before looking down at the card. ‘’Larissa Weems.’’ You whispered to yourself, before smiling slightly and deciding to head home. When you finally get curled up into bed, you start to drift off, your mind full of Larissa, and what Friday would bring.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #18+ only #lesbian #lgbt nsft

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lewkwoodnco · 8 months

Note

Hi I want to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song False God, I want it to be best friends to lovers, with the miscommunication trope. Like they were best friends and started falling for each other, and try to hide their feelings. Then then after a case they got into an argument, about Lockwood throwing himself in danger again and he kisses her, but she just gets even more confused and mad, she thinks that he only did it because he wanted to distract her from what happened, so she gets even angrier. The argument gets even more heated and they start even yelling at each other, then they stop talking to each other for days, and the reader just has enough and leaves and Anthony is heartbroken, and tries to find a way to get her back. The ending is happy. He gets her back, and they confess to each other.

I'm sorry this is very confusing. You can obviously add more things, so there is the miscommunication trope, and also, so the plot suits the song more. Thank you, you're amazing, I absolutely loved the I can see you fic, and it was everything I hoped for when I requested it.

False God - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: No worries, its not confusing at all! I'm really glad you liked the i can see you fic cuz its one of my favs too!! hope you like this one toooo :) 4k!

She groaned, shifting in her window seat, forehead fused against the window pane. It was too bright to be looking straight ahead at the glowing skyline, so she was staring down at the pavement baking in the sweltering heat. Summer was in full force, and today it took form by enveloping 35 Portland Row and every building in a five-mile radius with its heat. It was too hot to think straight, too hot to do anything but brood and stew in resentment. Even as she unseeingly looked out at the shimmering roads, all she felt was the same agony growing inside of her being reflected back into her eyes. Loving Lockwood truly was a special kind of hell.

It had been a funny sort of week. On Monday, Lockwood had used a napkin to wipe some sugar off her nose after she had bitten into one of Arif's doughnuts, and he looked just as confused as her when he realised what he was doing. On Wednesday's job, she tripped on a loose floorboard so badly that her knees buckled under her, leading to some very ungraceful stumbling in Lockwood's arms, and when she was finally able to find her feet she brushed past him, face beet red, mumbling an apology.

On Thursday, Lockwood was bandaging up a scrape on her wrist, and she had been so transfixed by his swift, confident movements that she hadn't even realised he was done until he snapped the first aid box close. Later that night, while they were scouting out a new location, his fingers drifted on the edge of her bandage occasionally, as if checking to see if it was alright. Part of her love-addled brain couldn't help but hope that he was checking if she was alright. He apologised profusely each time, stepping back in an attempt to at force at least some physical distance between them. She nodded absent-mindedly, trying to soothe the somersaults her stomach made when she felt his rapier-calloused fingers graze her palm.

So when they were dividing themselves up for Friday's case, a part of her knew it wasn't smart to team up with someone in front of whom she became a stuttering, vacant fool. It wasn't that she daydreamed about him or felt butterflies in her stomach, but there was something about him that short-circuited her systems when he got too close. But now, Lockwood looked so cool, so nonchalant. She couldn't avoid him forever. She had to work through whatever this was, and spending time with him was how she was going to do it.

"Yeah, sure, those teams sound great. Lockwood and I together works." But even as she raised her mug to take a sip, she briefly met Lockwood's gaze, and the look in his eyes triggered this sudden vision of the entire mission going up in flames. Her eyes darted away, and when she looked back, he was looking at something on the thinking cloth interestedly. She struggled to take a sip of her tea with the lump in her throat. Must have been a trick of the light. Not that it helped her get it out of her head.

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

Lucy and George were starting on the first two floors, so Lockwood and her took the elevator up to the third floor. Two floors away, they could no longer hear George and Lucy's footsteps or voices, as if they were in an entirely different building. They split up, and she was relieved for the distance between them, the chance to finally think straight for a while.

However, they weren't having much luck. She ran her fingers over the walls for what felt like the hundredth time, frowning and straining her ears. Every time she felt like she had just gotten the right focus, Lockwood would shift somewhere behind her and break her concentration.

"Quit it."

"What?"

"The shifting. I can't hear."

"What shifting?"

She pulled her ear from the wall to look at Lockwood and immediately felt her spirits dry up. Lockwood was looking at her questioningly, not far from the position she had left him in, and right behind him was a Spectre a split second away from lunging at Lockwood.

It all happened so fast; even now she wasn't quite sure how she had managed to recover her wits so quickly. She barrelled towards the ghost, fingers closing over Lockwood's bicep as she closed her eyes and thrust her rapier in front of her, hoping her blade met the visitor before she did. There was a hissing sound, and then silence. She opened her eyes to see the Spectre gone, and Lockwood looking as pale and shaken as she felt. His lips quivered, forming amorphous words, and she feared she might break down if she looked at him being vulnerable for too long.

She turned detachedly, sheathing her rapier, considering the objects around them until she found one with overwhelming psychic charge. She pulled out her iron net and draped it over the source, and the temperature went up considerably. By then, Lockwood look mostly alright, if a little nervous.

They returned to the elevator, and as the doors shuddered to a close he tilted his head towards her, coughing awkwardly, though his eyes were still fixed to the floor. "You didn't need to...foolish t-to, what you did there...erm-"

"Lockwood, shut up. I'd die for you." She hadn't meant to sound so aggressive, but it made her heart stumble erratically when she saw him sprawled on the floor, moments away from certain death. It made her want to strangle him for being so stupid, then fling her arms around him and hold him close. For so much of her life she had felt like an island, alone and desolate, and she had so little, but Lockwood would forever be something for her to keep, even if it was only all in her head.

She looked up, startled by the dark look in his eyes, rushing to get the words out, but it was a bit too late. "And Lucy. And George." Even she could hear how flimsy that sounded, echoing in the starkly lit rattling elevator. Yes, she would lay her life on the ground for them, but with Lockwood, it was just...different. Anything to do with Lockwood just had to be complicated.

"I know. But still. Thank you."

She gasped, scrambling to her feet, hand clutching the sleeve of his coat before her brain caught up to what she was doing. It was almost comical, the way she had to blink at her hand and Lockwood's face before realising what she had done. She dropped her hand immediately, straightening, but Lockwood's expression didn't change. It was a weird mix of curiosity, contemplation and what looked to be worry. So it hadn't been a trick of the light.

She inhaled, raising her chin to meet his gaze. His eyebrows raised imperceptibly and she felt the air around them shift. She blinked hesitantly, much less confident than she was a few moments ago.

They silently boarded the elevator again, which was miraculously still working, and an uneasy feeling starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. For once, neither of them had made any effort to sweep the electricity between them under the rug, so now it hung in the open, the elephant in the room. It was pure insanity - no, idiocy, to acknowledge the charged air between them. She didn't know about Lockwood, but she was having a hard enough time dealing with the urges that compelled her to run to his side at the first sign of danger.

This was new territory, and these uncharted waters frightened her so. As soon as her attention drifted elsewhere and this tension between them took a backseat, she would look into Lockwood's eyes or feel him brush against her, and she would be certain that it was only a matter of time before she was pulled under. It made her head spin, and yet, she craved it.

Her hand trembled as she pushed her hair back from her eyes, and Lockwood reached out and interlocked her fingers with his own, still staring straight ahead at the dull metal doors. His stoic expression belied the intimacy of the action, and she felt the first strains of annoyance begin to bubble up. How could he just stand there so unaffected, as if he had every right to make her fight for her own breath?

The elevator doors opened to the ground floor, and not a moment too soon. The thick floors had meant that the two groups had no idea what was going on with the other group, and Lucy and George were fighting by the skin of their teeth to stay alive among the hoard of ghosts surrounding them. Lucy was keeping the visitors back while George ducked and rolled around the lobby, frantically looking for sources. Lockwood and her joined Lucy, and soon enough they had the upper hand.

Once the final source was neutralised, they sat in silence, only the sound of them catching their breath filling the room. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lockwood tugging at his rapier that was somehow embedded in the wall, before he suddenly stilled. He was looking in her direction, a familiar fear clouding his eyes. Somehow, a part of her realised exactly what was happening.

She turned, hand on her rapier, stopping short. She certainly felt the chill, and there seemed to be a haze in the air, but she couldn't quite make out anything tangible. She reached out, almost as if in a trance, before she had the wind knocked out of her.

One minute she was standing, and the next she was lying on the floor, a figure crouching over her, blocking her vision, as if shielding her. A few moments passed before the figure looked up and straightened, kneeling now, light falling on the gaunt face of Lockwood. George was sheepishly holding up a musical box draped in a silver net. "Sorry, missed a source. They should all be gone now."

Lockwood turned back to her, offering a hand to pull her up, but there was this weird sort of static buzzing between her ears now. She propped herself up on her own, shoving him, and walked away fuming while he toppled over in an undignified manner.

Fucking Lockwood.

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

The air of the group was fraught with tension on the way back. She signed the report with such force that she ripped a hole in one of them, and she kept rebuffing all of Lockwood's attempts to try to talk to her. Now, they were back at 35 Portland Row. She went straight to the kitchen and started making tea, slamming the drawers, uncommonly violent. Lockwood stood a few feet away from the table, closer to the door, as if furiously working out what exactly he wanted to say to the floor. She saved him the trouble.

"What the hell was that?"

"It was a Phantasm."

"Yeah, I guessed. I mean the part about you rushing in without any equipment."

"I was out of flares and my rapier was stuck. I didn't choose to do that."

"No Lockwood, you did choose. You made that choice when you decided to run in-"

"What the hell was I supposed to do? Watch you get ghost-touched?"

"-throw all caution to the wind, playing the hero-"

"I only play the hero because I have to. You're all my responsibility."

"-because never mind the three people who work in your agency, live in your house, and care so deeply about you that they wouldn't know what to do with themselves if you died-"

"So I'm just supposed to stand around and watch the rest of you die?!"

"-but no, the great Anthony Lockwood has bigger plans, like being an absolute - you won't even look at me!"

She sat down at the table, cradling her growing migraine, muttering to herself. "God, I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"Like what?" Lockwood gripped the chair opposite hers aggressively.

"This! You get so-so distant, like you couldn't be more disinterested in other people. In me. You detach yourself and step away and I know it's all a lie." She felt her heart rate further destabilise. "I see it when you look at me, like I'm some fresh, exciting thing to marvel at. You can get mad at me, or hate me, or strangle me, but I never bore you, Lockwood."

He bent forward by two inches, angling her head in his hand, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. It couldn't have lasted longer than a second, but they were both breathless when they broke away, faces no further than a few inches apart. Her rage was barely quelled, if not aggravated. Her face was white with anger. Even now, all he wanted to do was distract her, as if he knew it wouldn't take much. In a brief flicker of panic, a part of her worried that he knew how she felt, that he knew all along, and all of this was some sick game to screw her over. She wanted to smash his facade, watch him come undone the way she was on the inside, goad him into feeling something. "Go on, then. Do it."

"Do what?" Her breathing was uneven. The past few weeks of fleeting stolen glances were bad enough, but with his face so close to hers, she could feel her brain turning into jelly. Part of her knew what she was about to do wasn't fair to him, but their relationship had gone too haywire for her to care. There was nothing fair about the way he consumed her anyways. Whoever said it hadn't loved anybody as hard as she loved Lockwood: nothing is fair in love.

"Get rid of me. Wake up to happier mornings where I'm not around, since I'm such a burden." She wasn't entirely aware of what she was saying, or if she meant it. She was grasping desperately for any respite from the brutal assault of her emotions, so all she could do was the one thing she did best - withdraw. She leaned back, welcoming cool, grounding air into her lungs as her tears threatened to spill over the ruins of their crumbling friendship. It was as though she had been struck for having the sin of hubris, for believing her and Lockwood were built to weather the storms of affection beyond platonic love. "Fire me, whatever. Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you? Being all official and important? Because all Anthony Lockwood cares about is being the biggest prat in the room, whether it be by throwing his precious life away-"

"So my life is 'precious', but yours is fair game?"

"I didn't say that!"

"You didn't NEED TO!" Lockwood was gripping the chair so tightly he looked just about ready to smash it into bits. He took a few ragged breaths, as if physically trying to control his emotions. "Words only express so much-"

"But they express just enough for you, don't they?" she said bitterly. He set his jaw, hardening against the venom of her words. She placed a hand on her forehead weakly, stumbling out of the kitchen up to the attic. There she sat now, cynically judging the trees for being too green.

Over the next few days, she stayed in the attic, forcing down morsels of the food Lucy brought up to her, preferring to communicate non-verbally. After three days, she began to feel as cold and long-forgotten as that tea she was in the middle of making that day. She watched them gear up and lug their equipment into cabs from the window, but none did so as resolutely or with as much mechanical efficiency as Lockwood. She missed them, she missed working, but she wasn't about to go running down the stairs to Lockwood's room, begging for forgiveness. No; she had more pride than that.

Instead, she wiled away the hours staring at the clock and then staring out the window, until her eyes ached. It was so hot, time seemed to be slowing to a stop. The seconds hand ticked occasionally, when it felt like it, and her shirt plastered itself on her back. The heat was so oppressive and glued her eyelids shut, and it felt as though the whole room was submerged in molasses. It just wasn't the right kind of weather to reconcile.

Occasionally, her thoughts drifted to when she first joined the agency, and the words of advice Lucy had given her. "Lockwood, er, he's hard to read," she had said. "Best to leave him to it, most of the time. It takes a special kind of trust to really get to know him. You need a lot of blind faith, and it's certainly not easy terrain...but I think it's all worth it in the end."

Still, she couldn't live at the window forever. Which is why she went down to the kitchen after a fitful sleep on the third night, gingerly choking down some toast, when the rest returned from the job. Lucy hugged her from behind and George immediately set out four cups as he started to brew some tea. Despite all that, Lockwood still regarded her as stiffly as before, speaking into the distance rather than to her.

"I'm not going to fire you, if that's what you're waiting for."

In that moment, when Lockwood disowned any kind of feeling for her yet again, the last vestiges of her hope slipped away. She thought she knew him. Hell, she thought she loved him. But life was full of mistakes and disappointments, and this was yet another she had to contend with. "Fine. I quit."

Even Lockwood was momentarily stunned as she slipped past him up to the attic, blurrily throwing in anything that looked vaguely like hers into a her bags. Lucy had followed her, trying to talk some sense into her, but it all fell on deaf ears. Only George was in the kitchen by the time she was done packing, and he looked oddly forlorn as he waved at her distractedly. The door to the library was open as she shouldered past the memories of the life they had on her way to the front door. Lockwood was in his chair facing the fireplace, back to the door, glaring a hole into his book, looking as furious as she was just a few days ago.

She didn't have anything to say to him, which was just as well, because he clearly didn't have anything to say to her. She stepped out into the night, twisting sprigs of lavender in her hair, walking off into the night. George came up to the library, sighing loudly at the door, and Lockwood jerked up irritatedly.

"What?"

"Couldn't wait till after tea, could you?"

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

Three weeks later, her memories of the three of them were more diluted than she would have liked. With the little savings she had, she managed to rent a cramped apartment which didn't leave much room for decoration, which was just as well, as she didn't have many mementos. She wasn't the best at preserving memories, so all she had were some odd photos on the few times she remembered her camera.

Lockwood was in the pictures too. As hard as she tried, she couldn't just cut him and his presence out of her life; they were too irrevocably tied together. Some nights, before sleeping, she would trace the outline of his face on the one focused photograph she had of him, and wonder if she'd still recognise his voice. In spite of herself, she wondered if he ever thought about her the way she dreamt about him.

The summer heat faded, and these days rain drizzled from the sky like a leaky tap. In her case, that also meant a leaking roof, and the constant drip of the water into the bucket drove her nuts. It was the little things like the leaking roof and the refrigerator with a loud hum that never allowed her to truly rest, always kept her on the edge, that made her new life distinctly more uncomfortable than her old.

She heard a faint disjointed knock on her door. She opened the door to see a gaunt and wane Lockwood, significantly paler than she remembered. She was speechless, not quite sure what to do, and he just seemed relieved enough to see her in person. He still stood the same way he did when meeting new clients, with an air of formality, and she half-expected him to shake her hand. Instead, he pulled her into a hug; a proper one, where his arms went all the way around her. The kind of hug that made you want to cry.

She gripped the sleeve of his coat not unlike the way she did all those weeks ago, and she was suddenly aware of how little the weeks passed meant. Nothing had changed between them, except for this deep yearning tainting the fervour of their grip on each other. He still felt this need to protect her but sucked at communicating, she still reached out to him instinctively in danger but yelled at him for not putting himself first. Strife and misunderstandings were still rife in their relationship, but she had never missed fighting and loving someone the way she had missed Lockwood.

"I'm sorry," he was mumbling into her hair. "I don't know why it took me so long to realise you felt the same way I did. I guess we just express fear in different ways."

"You always were slow."

He pulled back, softly smiling in a way that erased some of his wrinkles. But the smile slipped away, and she felt the worry tugging down the corners of his mouth. "It's just...I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't know how to express it all the time so sometimes it just feels easier to convince myself it's not there. But it Smooths things over, you know?" He inhaled shakily, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. She could feel how hard it was for him to admit all this. "I felt it most when you were gone. It...it weighed on my mind. Never let me be fully at peace." His lips quirked into a small smile. "Much like you. I'd do anything for you, and I think that scares me."

"It scares me too. I guess the only way I could think of handling it was proving you were more scared than me. As if that would somehow make me strong and not...weak. Or vulnerable." She sighed, as if all the exhaustion of the past few weeks had all caught up to her in this very moment. "You make me crumble, Lockwood, but I've never felt stronger."

His eyes unfocused as his hand on her cheekbone slipped. "What if I can't protect you? What if I can't drive away every single visitor in time? What if you get hurt? How do people live like this?"

She held his hands, stopping his spiral. "I think I have enough experience driving away people who are more than a little obsessed with me."

He laughed, pulling her into a hug. What once felt overstimulating was now oddly comforting. The beat of his heart, the rhythm of his breath, the vibrations of his laughter...she wanted to feel that every day for the rest of her life.

"What I did...it really was different. You do realise that, right?"

"Yes."

"I had my rapier with me."

"You did."

"You didn't have anything."

"Hmm, I panicked." He continued hastily under her stern gaze. "What I mean is, I will try to be more careful. Promise." He put on his most angelic expression. She rolled her eyes. She took his hand as they stepped out in the final drops of summer rain. Life together wasn't always going to be smooth-sailing, or even remotely manageable, but she had a feeling that they would be alright.

#fanfiction #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #fanfic #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood x y/n #taylor swift #false god #lover #requested

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your-local-hollow-lover · 1 year

Text

Wild hike

Summary: Grimmjow finally tosses his stigmatization for seeking physical contact out the window. His kisses are rough and taste like blood.

A/N: This is a short piece, but made with utter love! Grimmjow is my baby, and I want him to get kisses :')

Grimmjow knew how to make your problems disappear. Even if only because he temporarily replaced them with a few more severe ones, like feeling life slip from your lips with every somersault he took.

Rushing through the vast desert of white sand, he carried you in his arms while you clung to his neck as if letting go represented imminent death. Grimmjow, who occasionally glanced your way, cackled at your hilarious grimace.

Maybe this was a punishment for ignoring him for so long, or perhaps it was his twisted idea of a date. He took a few more jumps, and you arrived at your destination.

With a swing that turned your stomach, he set you down. You squeezed the sand with both hands, happy to be back on the ground.

"Here it is," Grimmjow said, placing his hands on either side of his hips, looking at the landscape looming ahead.

You followed his gaze to find a cemetery: thousands of gigantic bones lay over the sand. Some of them were half submerged, and others were only visible through the pointy tips piercing the whiteness of the desert. Each one of them, big or small, shone under the moon.

"I bring them here after killing them."

From your seat on the floor, Grimmjow looked even more imposing.

"Why?" you asked genuinely.

Grimmjow took a couple of seconds to articulate his response. He had no problem saying it. However, for some reason, sharing this kind of thing made him feel awkward.

At the beginning of his relationship with you, that feeling infuriated him. Now, it just felt strange. Like a tickle in the hole doomed to be unfillable and yet-

"I come here to sleep," he granted.

Surprise showered across your face. It made sense. With the amount of death energy and Grimmjow's spiritual pressure, it would be pretty damn stupid to come near this area.

"This is amazing!" you finally let out in a brisk breath. You grinned. "Can I see from upright?"

It was stupid, but he was pleased that you liked it. Grimmjow smirked. In a swift motion, he carried you to the sky again.

The boneyard looked more impressive from above. You could entirely make out every shape from up high.

"All of this was during Aizen or after?"

"After him. The other would've missed the chance to pick on me for this. Especially that lunatic of Szayel."

You chuckled. "Yeah, I bet Szayel would've wanted to investigate them. They're huge!"

Lately, Grimmjow had put less and less resistance trying human things with you, the least you could do was show interest in matters meaningful to him.

You praised the size of his prey with excitement. It was in these moments that he realized how screwed up he was. Suddenly, Grimmjow was hyperaware of your hands around his neck and the warmth of your body against his. He gritted his teeth.

No doubt it was easier for him to deal with these unwanted feelings now, but he still wasn't all that good at managing the urge to do certain human things– damn it. He wouldn't think too hard about it. Grimmjow made up his mind. He would do what he pleased.

You were chatting about the sand when he grasped your hair, tugging it to turn your head toward him. You gasped. He clapped his mouth over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth. It was a rough kiss, as was his custom, yet no less delicious for that.

You caught his mouth again as soon as he pulled back. Your hands stroked his hair. Grimmjow reciprocated by pulling you closer to him. You bit his lip. He grunted against your mouth.

The light sensation faded just before your feet touched the ground again. It was the inside of the skull. The floor was surprisingly smooth.

Grimmjow held you over his lap as he leaned against the inside wall. He bit your neck before gently sucking on the spot.

"You will stay here for tonight."

You brushed your lips over his mouth, enjoying how he chased them.

"Only if you devour me," you said through half-hooded eyes. Grimmjow smirked, and he kissed you again.

#grimmjow x reader #grimmjow jeagerjaques #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow bleach #grimmjow imagine #bleach fanfiction #bleach hollow #bleach espada

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fanficshiddles · 1 year

Text

Seductively Destructive, Chapter 14

Erin felt physically sick as she entered the party with a few of her friends. She was really nervous in-case Loki was there. She really didn’t know how she would react if she saw him.

She was wearing a black dress, like most others were wearing, so she hoped to blend in and even if he was there, he might not notice her. Especially since everyone was wearing a mask that hid half their face at least.

Though she knew deep down her hair would be a giveaway, with the pink strip in it. Though she could have tied it up in a bun, to hide it more. But then Loki’s name would be on display, so she had been a bit torn.

There was a part of her that liked having her hair up so people could see she was Loki’s girl… or was. She was still really conflicted. Though having time away from him had made her see a little clearly again, that their relationship long term really wouldn’t be good for her…

She slowly started to relax as the party went on and she had a few glasses of champagne, though she kept glancing around the room to check if there was any sign.

About an hour into the party, just as she was beginning to relax, she had the feeling of being watched. Turning slowly, she looked across the room and her stomach began doing somersaults.

It was Loki.

Even with a mask, there was no doubt that it was him. He was wearing a suit, with a black mask on. His hair was slicked back neatly and he was wearing his leather gloves. He instantly spotted her and locked eyes.

Erin felt like time stood still as Loki began stalking across the room, directly towards her. His heart was pounding too upon seeing her, oh he had missed her so much.

Erin didn’t know what to do. She was in a bit of a confused panic, she turned her back on him and tried to stay as still as possible. She wasn’t sure why, since she knew he was coming for her.

Tingles shot down her spine as she felt a warm breath against her neck just under her ear... Then he brushed her hair out of the way of her neck.

‘Hello, my pet.’ He whispered low, against her ear. His cool leather clad fingers slid across the back of her neck, over his tattoo.

There's a darkness I can feel it in your touch I should get away, get away I want you way too much

Erin turned slightly, gasping as she looked up into his eyes. Whilst she saw so much emotion in his eyes, she knew she had to leave. Being this close, it would only end in disaster.

So she fled through the crowd of people. At first she made her way towards the kitchen, but as she headed through she glanced over her shoulder and saw he was still following her. So she darted in a different direction, but it meant doubling back a bit and he reached out towards her but she managed to avoid his grasp, only just.

She broke into a bit of a run, heading back towards the main large room where the party was, just as quite a few people were leaving the room. So she pushed her way through the crowd and into the busy room. Looking back, she saw Loki was held back a bit by the crowd, so she took that opportunity to hide at the back by the patio doors. The way the curtains were pulled back, she was able to use them to her advantage and shield herself from view from anyone coming into the room, but without looking suspicious to others around.

She took a few deep breaths, her mind was racing as she tried to think of what to do. She felt totally ridiculous for running, from Loki of all people. Who she adored and loved…

That’s when she really noticed the adrenaline pumping through her veins and she was excited… But not just excited, she was also aroused at the chase.

Erin was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she never noticed Loki finding her. He sneaked up on her, going behind the curtain from the other end and pouncing on her.

She let out a squeal as he slipped an arm around her, pulling her into him, though no one else heard her from the music.

‘More than paralyzed, oh it’s the chase you like’ He sang into her ear knowingly.

She put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away. Though her attempts were feeble.

‘Loki…’

‘I’ve missed you, Erin. So much.’ He cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes, briefly leaning into his touch. But she tried to be strong.

‘I can’t do this…’ She managed to push away from him and slipped out of his grasp, once again she made a beeline for the door.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she ripped off the mask, getting annoyed by it. She tossed it to the ground as she ran down the corridor.

‘Erin!’ Loki called after her, he removed his mask too as he chased her.

He followed her down a corridor and around the corner. But she suddenly stopped and spun around to him. It hurt his heart to see the tears in her eyes. He approached her and reached out towards her face, though she backed off a few steps.

‘Please… don’t.’ Her lip quivered.

‘Why not, pet?’

‘Because if you touch me, I won’t be able to resist… I can’t resist you. Which is why I needed space.’ She tried to be brave, but she could already feel her resolve crumbling just being in his presence.

‘Erin. I love you.’ Loki said firmly as he closed the distance between them and he didn’t stop as he reached for her again, cupping her cheeks in both hands as he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

At first, she didn’t respond to his kiss. But slowly, he felt her turn to putty in his hands. She began moving her lips back against his. Then she reached out tentatively and gripped his shirt. He backed her up against the wall and his hands began roaming her body.

‘God… You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.’ He growled over her lips.

‘Me too.’ She whispered, a tear running down her cheek.

Loki leaned back slightly and wiped her tear away with his thumb, then gently slid it down and along to her lips. Her brushed across her lower lip, then back over her upper lip before pressing his thumb between them.

She instinctively began sucking on his thumb, making him smile.

‘My good girl.’ He rumbled. He quickly glanced around and spotted a door behind them.

‘Come on.’ He took her hand and led her over, he tried the door handle and it opened. Popping his head in, he saw it was a spare bedroom that was luckily unoccupied.

Loki ushered her into the room and shut the door. Then he pounced for her again and backed her up to the bed as he mauled her neck with his teeth.

They tumbled down onto the bed and she tried to move away from him as she shuffled up the bed backwards. ‘Loki… I need a second.’ She said, breathlessly. She was worried about getting carried away, though she knew deep down she was too far gone already.

Loki crawled up to her with a hunger in his eyes, he looked slightly feral as he gripped her face, forcing her to look at him.

‘I don't care how many times it takes to get through to you, it’s a force that not even God can stop, you're fucking mine.’

He swiftly moved his hand to the front her neck and pushed her down on her back, she was surprised she didn’t get whiplash with how forceful he was as he pinned her down. She then could barely breathe as he kissed her deeply again, almost making her choke on his tongue.

She was torn between trying to push him away or pull him closer.

But she ended up going for the latter and wrapped her arms up around his neck, sliding her fingers through his hair as he continued kissing her and grinding down against her.

There was no escaping him, and she didn’t think she truly wanted to, either. She was fucked, in every aspect of the word.

You’ve got this power over me And there is no way to fight it I can’t help but gravitate towards you This is a force I can't defeat

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #seductively destructive #loki x ofc

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mykneeshurt · 2 years

Text

Haunted pt5

Gonna be MIA next week, I’m getting married 28/11 so I’m gonna be a bit busy. If I find time to do another chapter I will.

I don’t know how to do a taglist lmao let me j ow if that’s something y’all want

Have some angst hehe

Applying the last of your concealer on your now golden bruise, which adorned the bridge of your nose, you let out a sigh. ‘Alright lass?’ Turning round you saw Soap leaning against the door frame. ‘Yeah. I think so. Just nervous.’ Offering you a reassuring smile he walked over to you and placed a firm hold on your shoulder. ‘You be alright lass. Keegan’s doin all the listening, you’re there just to look good’ he winked. Laughing you shoved him off you ‘fuck off Soap.’

Walking downstairs to the dining room your stomach was doing somersaults. The thought of seeing Keegan again after all this time made you feel physically sick. Taking a deep breath you rounded the corner to the dining room, all the men sat waiting for you. Keegan stood in the corner, his ice blue eyes slammed into yours within an instant. Fuck. ‘Long time no see kid’ he greeted in the silence of the room. Putting on your brave face you smiled back ‘Hey! Yeah it’s … been a while.’ Christ why were you so awkward? He still looked incredible, firm body, tall, imposing and those eyes. You almost forgot you’re meant to breathe.

Feeling everyone’s eyes on you, you quickly found your seat and sat down. Next to Ghost of course. He was able to see you were feeling tense so he placed his knee next to yours under the table. A subtle sign to let you know he was there. Brushing your arm briefly along his thigh as a thank you, you settled into the briefing.

‘Now’ Price began ‘just wanna say thank you Keegan for takin time to come and help us with this intel operation. Ghost, like I said the other day you’re look out. You’ll be on the roof opposite the cafe, keepin an eye. Soap and Gaz you’ll be outside to start. One by one go in and keep eye on Doc and Keegan. Keegan knows what he needs to listen for, Doc you’re there to make it more convincing. Get the intel and get out. Piece of piss.’ All nodding in unison you stood to get ready to depart. Everyone had left the room all bar you and Ghost. Looking up at him he could sense your wavering nerves. Planting a firm kiss on your forehead he held your hands in his ‘you got this love.’ That’s all the reassurance you needed.

Once outside the town you secured your switch blade to your thigh and another smaller knife in the neck of your boot. Pulling your flowy skirt down you noticed Keegans eyes on you. ‘Just like old times eh. Flashing me a thigh to get my attention’ he smirked. ‘In your fuckin dreams Keegan.’

‘You always are kid.’ Snapping your head to him you shot him a firm gaze ‘don’t start this please. I don’t have the mental energy to deal with you today. Come on, before I lose my nerve.’

Taking his hand in yours you began walking down the street to the cafe. Your earpiece crackled to life underneath your hair. ‘Got you in my sights. They’re not here yet, linger for 5.’ There he was, your guardian angel in the skies. Soap was sat by a fountain reading a newspaper and Gaz was lingering on the corner looking at his phone. Keegan wrapped his hand around your waist pulling you in tightly to him. Ghost looked on, an ache deep within his chest. You looked so natural on his arm, so comfortable and care free. Ghost began to wonder if that’s how you felt with him, that carefree and comfortable. He felt an ache of jealously creeping up into his chest.

‘They’re coming up on your 6, get ready.’ Taking a deep breath you tried to calm your nerves, Ghost reading your body longed to hold you, to calm you. Instead Keegan had other ideas, he also knew how to read you. Pulling you in he placed his lips on yours, knowing you were unable to pull away you could only allow him to kiss you. Extremely aware the only man you wanted was forced to watch, helpless at the situation before him. Keegan pulled away ‘you taste just as good as I remember.’ Ghosts grip on his sniper rifle grew tighter by the minute, his knuckles white hot with rage. The jealousy kicking up a notch.

You smiled back at Keegan, knowing you couldn’t do anything else. But your eyes were dead. You glared back at him, wanting nothing more than to slap him. ‘Let’s go in’ you urged, feeling the burn of Ghosts gaze. Walking into the dull cafe you saw your targets sat in a booth, luckily for you another booth was empty next to them. Sitting down in the booth you were sat back to back, in optimum position to hear everything. The waitress brought over coffee and you both relaxed into the shabby dark green leather.

Keegan was taking this couple business far too seriously. He nuzzled against your neck, finger tips grazed your thigh and planted a kiss on your cheek any time he could. ‘Careful’ you chided ‘could be giving the impression you’re not entirely over me.’

Taking a sip of his coffee he looked over towards Soap who had now entered the cafe. ‘Not entirely kid. Would much prefer to be under you.’ You snorted into your cup, placing his hand on the knife concealed on your thigh. ‘What I wouldn’t give to bury this into your fucking face’ you said with a sickly sweet smile. ‘God I’ve fuckin missed you’ he retorted.

With the Russians conversation finally switching to what you were here for, Keegan leant back against the booth. Intently listening. Locking eyes with Soap you gave a subtle nod to inform him it was go time. Soap diverted his attention back to his newspaper, ears clearly on stand by. You had no idea what what Keegan needed to listen out for. Your mind wandered back to your relationship with him. The arguments, the fights, the make up sex … the amazing make up sex. God. The thought made you blush, pushing the memories back down you tried to stay alert and focused on the mission.

With a firm slap to your thigh Keegan smiled ‘got what we need, let’s go.’ Not needing to tell you twice you jumped up from the booth and made your way outside hand in hand with Keegan. Once outside and clear from Makarovs men you radioed to Ghost, ‘all clear. Got what we needed.’ Silence. Odd.

Making your way back to the jeeps, Keegan again tried to get handsy with you. Pushing him off you, you looked at him in disbelief. ‘I haven’t seen you in years and you think we can pick up where we left off?! You’re fucking deluded. You HURT me Keegan. Really fucking bad. I would have done anything for you. And you hurt me.’ Tears pricked your eyes as the seriousness of your tone finally got through to him. He backed off finally getting the message.

Soap and Gaz rounded the corner to find you both mid argument. Ghost was the last to turn up, his eyes expressionless. The journey back was tense. You sat in the middle of Ghost and Keegan, Ghost back to being tense around you. Not even looking in your direction. Feeling how tense it was Soap turned on the radio and flashed Gaz a grimace.

Once back at the safe house Keegan filled in Price on what he needed to hear. Soap and Gaz took to the living room to relax. You however went to find Ghost. Finding him in his room you knocked, he didn’t even look at you. You felt uneasy. ‘Hey? What’s wrong?’

Nothing. ‘Simon, please talk to me?’ Nothing. He just stared at the floor. Your heart rate increasing, you were starting to feel incredibly anxious. In reality he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t express how he felt inside, seeing how natural you looked with Keegan played on his mind massively. His mind reverted to constant negative self-talk, why would any one love him? Why would any one want to show affection to him? You were just using him because you were bored. So he did what he does best with relationships. Self-sabotage.

Standing up he towered over you ‘you gonna fuck him?’ If your eyes could have widened further they would have. What the fuck did he mean by that?! ‘Simon what are you on about?’

‘I saw how cosy you were with him. Looked like more than just actin to me.’ His eyes were cold, void of emotion but his tone of voice made up for that. ‘I told you we had history Simon …’

Without letting you finish he carried on quoting him ‘you taste just as good as I remember?’ His fists were clenched tight ‘bet you fuckin loved kissin him.’ Knowing exactly what he was doing you called him out on it. ‘Just because you cant handle your emotions Simon does not mean you get to take it out on me. You’re not the only one here with a past so you don’t get to pull this self-sabotage bullshit with me.’ Tears were welling under your eyes, a mixture of frustration, sadness and pure rage. ‘And what the fuck would you know?’ He spat.

‘You wanna know?!’ You seethed, squaring up to him ‘you’re not the only one who’s been fucking abused Simon. You’re not the only one daddy didnt fucking love. You know my father and brother would often beat me? Make me watch as they beat my mother? I was tortured in Afghanistan for 2 weeks’ you spat as you lifted your jumper to show multiple scars across your abdomen. ‘They burnt me, the cut me, water boarded me cause they thought I was someone else. When clearly I’m just a pathetic medic who doesn’t know shit, and loves fuckin everyone I see.’ Lowering your jumper your face twisted with the our emotions you were feeling.

Turning to leave he grabbed your arm, the tears were so close to falling. ‘I know you think you’re not worthy of love Simon. I’ve been where you are. But picking fights because you think you’re worthless isn’t the way to do this. And I don’t think we can carry on until you really look at yourself. You have complex PTSD, that isn’t going to go away. That’s not your fault. But how you treat other people is.’ Shaking loose of his grip you left him in his room.

Making your way to the bathroom you splashed your face with cold water. Your eyes red and bloodshot from holding in the tears. The ache in your chest was indescribable. You felt like a fool. You were finally letting yourself feel something for him. Which has now been robbed courtesy of his jealousy and emotional issues. Scurrying back to your room you curled up into your bed and sobbed, muffling it with your pillow. You allowed yourself to cry the heaviest tears, the anguish punched through your chest. Feeling as though you were losing control you noticed your breath becoming faster, your chest becoming tighter. Your hands shaking, your thoughts becoming muddled and blurry. Feeling unable to breathe or catch your breathe complete panic took over your body.

Upon hearing the sounds of complete distress coming from your room, Ghost barged in. He ran to your side and scooped you up into his arms and held you. Melting into him you tried to regulate your breathing. ‘Shhhh love, I’m here, I’m here. Breathe with me’ he cooed. You felt hot and sweaty, hair wrapped around your face as thick tears fell from your swollen eyes. He cupped your face and placed a firm kiss on your lips. ‘I’ve got you, breathe. In and out. That’s it.’ Slowly the panic started to drift away as your breaths started to regulate themselves. 10 years without a panic attack and now you’ve had a huge one in front of him.

Feeling embarrassed you apologised. He grasped your face to look at him. ‘Nothin to be sorry for love. I’m sorry. You’re right. You were completely right.’ He used his thumb to wipe away fresh tears as he kissed your forehead. ‘Come here’ he whispered, lying you down in his arms. You clutched onto his jumper, his presence the only thing making you feel safe. You slowly drifted off to sleep, the warmth of his chest against your face as his soothed your back with his touch. That was the first night that Simon had ever slept all the way through.

#fan fic smut #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod mw22 #fluff #ghost x reader

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the-kr8tor · 4 months

Note

back to back requests, if you are okay with that. r finding out that she’s pregnant, and then hobie finding out? or maybe they both find out at the same time? up to you!!

Another banger request, bestie! Thank you 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW vomiting, description of illness, pregnancy talk, Billie and Ramona AU, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The portal opens in the living room, from the force of it opening has the boat rocking in the stagnant water. the sounds of your trinkets falling and crashing on the floor has Peter B. Cringing, while Mayday giggles excitedly in his arms. MJ follows close behind, all dressed up and pretty for their anniversary. The portal closes behind her in a mechanical sound.

“Hobie! Y/N?” Peter yells across the small space.

Mayday babbles to what sounds like your names. She tries to escape from her father's hold, kicking and squealing excitedly.

“Maybe they're still asleep?” MJ looks behind the kitchen island, she shrugs, having no idea where you or Hobie are.

Meanwhile, Mayday escapes, crawling across the floors. Upon your request, Peter took off Mayday's web shooters because in their last visit, well, the toddler almost gave you a heart attack.

Peter scratches his head, eyes flicking towards the closed bedroom door. “Do you think they're, you know?” he asks his wife with a slight whisper, wiggling his eyebrows.

MJ side glances, “Come on, really, Pete?”

Mayday points at the bathroom further down the hallway, Peter's enhanced hearing picks up retching and dry heaving inside the closed bathroom, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls.

He picks up Mayday, cradling her head. Looks like date night is postponed when the only person who volunteered to babysit Mayday is sick.

“Everything alright in there?” he knocks softly on the door.

The living room window slides open and out jumps Hobie holding onto a brown paper bag.

“You're early, hey MJ.” He says nonchalantly.

“Hi, Hobie, is she okay?” MJ grimaces after another round of retching continues inside the bathroom.

“Dude,” Peter makes way for Hobie to enter the small hallway. “Is she sick? You know I can't drop Mayday off while there's some sort of infection happening in here–” he gets a thwack upside the head from his wife.

“She's fine” Hobie says it to the couple but it's more of a reassurance for himself. “We both think she ate something bad a few days ago and she's been like this every morning.” He knocks twice on the door.

MJ looks like she's thinking.

Your pained muffled voice echoes out. “I'll be out in a minute, sorry.”

“Don't be sorry, love. I've got your meds, yeah? Come out so you can drink it” he says through the door.

With a click of the doorknob, you reveal yourself to the party in Hobie's jumper and a very old sweatpants hanging on your hip. Your eyes are flushed, sniffing to hell and back.

“Hi, sorry I don't think we can take care of Mayday today.” You say dejectedly, eyes forlorn as you look at the toddler who's equally devastated to hear the news.

“Aww man but we've got reservations–” MJ slaps Peter upside the head again.

Hobie helps you walk with his arms wrapped around your shoulders, thumb massaging comfortingly. He whispers to you. “How do you feel?”

“I feel like my stomach is doing somersaults.” You groggily say. Hobie sits you down on the settee, handing you a water bottle and medicine.

“Y/N, sweetheart, when was the last time you had your period?” You almost did a spit take when MJ asked you the question.

“Honey, what the he–cow” Peter fumbles, realizing that his daughter's still in his arms, watching him with her big eyes.

Hobie looks at you with wide eyes, slowly realizing something. You ate the same thing he eats everyday so why are you the only one with the stomach bug?

“Uh I'm late this month…” you side eye Hobie who looks like he's about to vomit right there and then. “Why? I'm probably just stressed and…” MJ gives you a soft look.

“Are you fatigued?” MJ softly asks, you nod while Hobie observes you and you only. “Any tenderness in the chest” you nod again. Hobie flicks his eyes down to your stomach. “Y/N, darling.” She smiles at you and Hobie, Peter gives you two the most awkward thumbs up. Mayday copies her dad, nodding along.

You chuckle nervously, facing Hobie, your bottom lip wobbling.

“Y/N” Hobie looks at you with glistening eyes. “Love, I think I should swing by the chemist again.” He holds your hand affectionately, eyes never leaving yours as a smile spreads across his face.

Peter's spidey senses warn him, covering Mayday's ears in one quick dad movement.

“Holy shit! Am I pregnant?!” you screech.

One agonizing fifteen minutes later, two lines appear on the small plastic stick, confirming MJ’s suspicion. Hobie was with you the entire time, holding your hand, caressing your back as he whispers ‘I love yous’ in your ear. You know you and the baby will be okay.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #spider punk x fem!reader #cw vomiting #cw vomit #cw description of illness #hobie fluff #ramona and billie au #twin au #dad! hobie brown

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sxmpfxrortega · 5 months

Text

author's note: i saw someone do this concept a few days ago and i wanted to try it out myself; i hope you all enjoy :)

Lazy Day Rifts

You and Jenna were having a "lazy day", as she so cutely put it. She showed up at your door almost an hour ago, saying something along the lines of, "I'm stressed to the max, I need relaxation and you"... how could you say no?

So here you both are, sitting on your sofa in your living room, flipping through various movies in hopes of one catching your eye.

"Can we watch something horror related?" Jenna said aa she turned to look at you, a sweet smile on her face.

You smile at her and nudge her shoulder playfully, "You reading my mind now?"

She gave you a cute giggle and turned her attention back to the TV screen, her eyes lighting up when you landed on a movie.

"Ooh! That one! I love this franchise" She says happily, bouncing in her seat.

You chuckle softly and click the movie, getting it started up.

"Want some popcorn?" You ask, standing up from the sofa.

She looks up at you and your heart melts while your stomach does a little somersault, "Sure, just don't take too long" She says with a playful tone.

You shake your head with a laugh, walking into your small kitchen to grab a bag of popcorn.

As you put the bag into the microwave, it starts making a weird sound.

Scrunching your eyebrows, you lean closer towards the shotty thing, "What the he-"

You're cut off by a deafening high frequency noise filling your ears, followed by a strange bright teal light.

You stumble back slightly as you close your eyes tightly, letting out a small yelp.

You hear Jenna let out almost the same kind of sound so you rush back into your living room, your eyes falling to Jenna.

"Hey- are you okay? I-I don't really know what just hap-"

You cut yourself off when you notice Jenna... and Jenna... and more Jenna.

"Uhh, babe?" You say with a raised eyebrow as you look at all of Jenna's characters standing in your small living room.

Jenna has a shocked expression on her face, her mouth opening and closing slightly; clearly, she is also as flabbergasted as you.

In your living room stands at least five of Jenna's characters: Tara, Phoebe, Ellie, Lorraine, and Wednesday, all quite looking confused as well.

You slowly walk up to Jenna and put your hand on her shoulder as if looking for physical reassurance, "Jen, are we- did we die?"

You hear Wednesday scoff, "Imbecile. Clearly this is some twisted reality." She says coldly.

Your eyes are wide as you look at Wednesday and back to Jenna, getting slightly freaked out at this point.

Finally, Jenna finds some form of composure, "Okay, so this is weird, I am an actress and I play all of you, you guys are my characters."

I sit down on the sofa and look around, seeing all of Jenna's characters get even more confused.

"How is this, even like possible?" Ellie chimes in, looking at Jenna curiously.

"Yeah, like what the fuck is happening?" Phoebe adds after Ellie.

You take a deep breath and stand back up, looking at all of them, "Okay, okay, I'm not entirely sure how this happened, but when I put our popcorn bag into the microwave, it made a loud noise and created a bright light so... perhaps a rift in something?"

You were practically reaching with that logic but it was the only thing you could think of.

Jenna looks at you and nods along, as if what you just said made any sort of sense, "I mean, not sure how that would work, but we'll go with it."

You look at all of them and sigh, "Okay, well, we're gonna have to figure out how to send them back."

Phoebe scoffs and looks at you, "Okay- rude, we're right here."

Your eyes widen and you sputter out an apology, thinking about how to tread on this matter lightly.

"Babe, I'm gonna go shower, I tend to think better in there." You say, turning to look at Jenna.

Her eyes go wide as she looks at you quickly, "You're going to leave me alone in this situation?"

You laugh slightly and lean down to kiss her cheek, "They're your characters, I think you know them pretty well."

With that, you stalk off down the hallway into your bedroom to grab a change of clothes, walking into the bathroom and starting the water.

About 35 minutes and some brainstorming later, you come out of the bathroom, walking back into the living room.

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight before you; Jenna turned on a movie and was watching it with all of her characters.

Shaking your head, you walk to the sofa and sit down next to Jenna, Tara is on your other side so you politely say excuse me.

"You're taking this pretty well." You say quietly to Jenna, putting your arm around her shoulders.

She looks at you and smiles, resting her head against your neck, "Yeah, you know I was weirded out in the beginning, but I mean... it's kinda cool."

You laugh softly and turn your attention towards the TV screen; I guess you guys were getting your lazy day after all.

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#tara carpenter #jenna ortega #wednsday addams #lorraine day #the babysitter #scream

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