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#THE WAY HE JUST STARES AND SNIFFS FOR WAY TOO LONG
sturniolo14 · 19 hours
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panic attack
summary: when chris has a panic attack, your there to help him.
contains: pure fluff !
i came back from work, after a long day. i struggled to keep my eyes open as i set my bag down. i looked around, searching for chris, my boyfriend of 2 years. i sighed thinking he was probably in his room, after all it was past midnight. i took off my shiny black heels of my feet, delighted to finally have them off my feet. i went to the kitchen, in search for some food but couldn’t find any. i sighed as i climbed up the stairs to chris’s and i’s bedroom. 
i opened the door and stepped into the room. i looked around in confusion as chris was nowhere to be found. i knocked on the bathroom door, “chris…”? i asked, confused. 
i heard a muffle cry through the locked door. my eyes widened in shock. was chris crying? “chris? honey, open the door please,” i asked worriedly. “i-i cant,” is all i heard from the other side of the door. 
“chris, please. its me, y/n. i’m going to help you,” i pleaded. i heard the soft click of the bathroom door unlocking. i stepped inside cautiously, my heart shattering the moment i saw chris, dark red bloodshot eyes. he was shaking uncontrollably, sitting on the hard, cold bathroom tiles. i quickly ran to his side.
chris squeezed his eyes shut as more tears pored out. my heart stopped as i stared at him. i took his face in my hands and tried to look into his eyes. “chris, my love, what happened?” i asked softly. he avoided eye contact and looked at his feet in despair. “i-i do-don’t know… i c-c-can’t breathe,” he stuttered. he was having a panic attack. almost immediately, i sprang into action. i put my hand on his chest as i felt his heartbeat. it was so fast.
his shoulders were quivering and i put his palm on my chest, directly on my heart. “chris, can u feel my heartbeat?” i asked him. he took in shuddering breaths and nodded slowly. “good, can u match yours to mine?” he looked at me for the first time and pursed his lips together as he tried to match it. “ honey, can u tell me 1 thing you can smell?” i asked, in order to help him calm down. he looked deeply in my eyes, eyebrows scrunched together in thought, and i thought he looked adorable. he took a small sniff and said, “your lavender perfume”. 
i nodded. “can u tell me 1 thing you can see?” i asked again. “uh yo-you,” he said. i nodded once again. “now tell me 1 thing you can hear?” “yo-your vo-vo-voice”, he said. i nodded.
“feeling better ?” i asked he nodded. we slowly made our way to our bedroom. he layed down and so did i. he nuzzled his head into my chest. “what happened, chris?” i asked. after he few moments, he answered.
“i’m just stressed with all the work for our youtube channel. im forced to make new ideas every week for the videos and whenever i try to talk, i’m always forced to shut up. i can never talk. i feel like all my fans hate that i talk. i can’t control it, its so hard,” he blurted out. 
i took a few moments to respond. “chris, everyone loves you. if you ask your brothers, they will tell you that they really appreciate you for thinking of new ideas for a video. you may think you talk too much, but that’s what keeps the video going,” i said.
he looked thoughtful as he nodded and said, “thank you, y/n, i love you” “i love you too chris.” i said as we both drifted off to sleep, in each others arms.
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astarionformayor · 2 months
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Benji smells Halsin, OP - bumbleRhizal on Youtube
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rs-hawk · 5 months
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Kinkmas: Day Four
Winter Wolf
Your Werewolf Boyfriend was insistent that you needed to stay inside when he shifted, especially in the winter. Something about the way your warm skin would smell in the air would drive him crazy, apparently. So whenever he shifts, you stay inside and do your best to respect him and his wishes. That being said, you can’t help but peek out sometimes, hoping to see your gorgeous white wolf of a boyfriend.
If you’re lucky, he’ll be patrolling your “den”, hoping to catch a whiff of you. A few times you’ve seen him mid-shift, a monstrously tall creature that you think would be just as likely to rip out your throat as he is to fuck you into the dirt. The thought makes you shudder.
One night, you decide to crack open the window. The heater is broken and won’t stop blowing, making it unbearably hot. The cold winter air feels so good when you stick your face up to the window. You don’t stick it out. Not quite. Just up to it. This way you’re not technically breaking your boyfriend’s rule, right?
Suddenly, you hear loud footsteps and low snarling. Every hair on the back of your neck stands on end as your breath catches. Slowly, you step away from the window, doing your best to slide it back down quietly, but it’s too late. He caught your scent.
In a matter of moments, the simple wooden door to the front of the cabin is ripped open, the now useless knob clattering against the tiled floors. Your Werewolf Boyfriend- tall, muscular, menacing- stands in the doorway, half transformed. He has to duck to get inside the doorway. His long claws scraping the floor. Your heart is in your throat as you stare at him in awe and a twinge of fear.
He sniffs the air, though only for a moment before his eyes land on you. Like a hunter who has found his prey. You don’t even have time to scramble back before he’s on you, pinning you under his massive body. The warmth of him is comforting now that the cold winter wind is blowing in through the demolished door and still ajar window. His fat tongue licks up your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
“Mine,” he growls as his claws dig into your waist. “My mate. Mine.”
You can only let out a tiny, “Yours” in response as he easily tears off your clothes.
His fat tongue trails down your body until he starts tongue fucking you, making you writhe and whine under him. His claws hold you in place, threatening to puncture your skin if you move too much. You whimper and whine, squirm and scream his name, but he doesn’t let up until you’ve orgasmed more times than you can count.
Only when you’re seeing stars and feel like a limp doll, does he let up. You draw a hard breath, trying to regain yourself, but that’s only for that breath. He nips your neck just as he slides into you, his massive girth stretching you out more than you thought he could.
“Baby, hang on. Wait,” you gasp, gripping his furry shoulders. “It’s… fuck you’re so big.”
He chuckles but doesn’t stop as he finally bottoms out inside of you, panting like a dog with his knot threatening your entrance. Maybe you’ll have to “accidentally” open the window next month if it leads to this.
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zephyrchama · 5 days
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[Thoughts about an MC who gets periods]
Getting periods in the Devildom must be pretty rough. Demons probably don’t get them, and the number of humans freely wandering around has to be incredibly low. If MC takes the form of a sheep then they likely don't have to deal with it immediately, but eventually that's going to wear off and they'll revert back to a human. Does the Devildom even have pads and tampons for sale?
MC might have to sheepishly ask Barbatos if he can acquire some in bulk from the human world. Barbatos would remain professional as always when inquiring about the use of these products and their role in daily life. He'd have to report it to the prince. They're both aware of what periods are, but only in a vague "oh yeah, humans do that" kind of way. (Perhaps in the future, Lucifer could use his secret Akuzon account to order more?)
There's surely some plant or potion that prevents them, but they're not meant for long term use. Probably tastes nasty over time and covers human skin in a weird oozing rash if consumed too often.
A month or two into the exchange program, MC might have to call up Solomon for aid.
---
“Can you help me with something?”
Solomon, not too interested in MC yet, agrees just to be amicable with his fellow human exchange student. They must be scared! They must be missing humans! “Is something on your mind?”
“You know how to do magic, right?”
What a silly question. It’s almost refreshing to hear. “I do.”
“Do you know… like, uh, smell…? Reducing magic? Something to cover up smells? Without being obvious, I mean. I feel like I stink and I was really hoping you could help me figure something out.”
How cute, he thinks. He can’t quite remember the time when he smelled fully human anymore, and he can’t really smell the distinct odor on people that demons can, but he knows demons can easily sniff out a human from afar. “Oh, don’t worry about that. It should go away on its own as you spend time here.”
MC isn’t convinced. “I don’t think it will…”
“Trust me. How are you finding Devildom cuisine? I know you’re not used to it, but eating more will help you adjust. I can whip up a few simpler dishes for you to try if you need help.”
MC is silent for a bit. Solomon thinks his job is done until they say quietly, “that’s not the problem.”
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure the brothers I live with can smell, uh, my cycle.” No use being coy about it, better get straight to the point. “They stare at me when I’m on my period. I think - no, I know - they can smell the blood. I’ve seen them sniff the air when I’m around. It's weird. And I can’t exactly stop it from happening every month.”
“Oh.” Now it’s Solomon’s turn to be quiet. He’s embarrassed and surprised, a little humbled, and also really interested in this problem. It’s not something he’s ever thought about before.
MC continues, “I think they can tell when I’m ovulating too, Asmo started lingering around more often, and Lucifer looked scarier than usual, and they all stare more, and-”
“I think I get it.” Solomon can’t stop his face from turning pink. Despite his usual grin, he doesn't think he’s ready to listen to the rest of MC’s sentence.
There should be an easy solution, but it’s something that warrants testing if MC doesn’t want the brothers noticing a sudden spell cast upon them. It could get mistaken for something malicious. Solomon says, “I might be able to help. Can you come over today?”
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sinisternymphette · 13 days
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everybody loves my baby
an historical au | 1930's florist!reader x dilfgangster!rafe (minors dni)✶
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tw: v!olence, sex
✶ gangster!rafe, who makes sure everyone knows that you're off limits. Whether it is by gently placing his hand on the back of your soft neck and slowly caressing it with his calloused knuckles, using one of his large fingers to softly trail down one of your arms while the both of you are sitting next to each other in a restaurant, putting his muscled arm around you like a mantle, giving you warmth and comfort, and even taking your hand in his to plant a kiss on the palm as he closes his eyes and sniffs to take in your scent without the care of what others might think of your intimacy. You were his and he was yours, and that was truly all that mattered.
✶ gangster!rafe, who would do anything to protect you. Literally. If anyone ever laid a hand on his pretty little florist, they'd have to go through him, and it certainly wouldn't end so jolly.
"You dared to touch my woman, hm. Well, not so confident now, are you."
he said in a low, menacing chuckle as he shook his head slowly, cornering the man before him in the lonely and dimly lit corridor behind the bar. He had gone to the washroom for just one minute- one minute without you in his plane on sight, and a man walked over to you and started complimenting you before giving you a rose. That wasn't the problem though. When you thanked him kindly and smelled the rose, he pulled his arm up to brush a strand out of your face. And so, he had to take the matter to his own hands.
"Now now, i'm sure you're a good fella and understand that it was just a minor misunderstanding!"
the man quickly said in a pleading tone, obvious fear in his wide eyes, which were easily comparable to a frightened doe's, before proceeding to pat Rafe's shoulder with one of his shaking hands- almost as if they were old friends. Rafe shook his hand away in a swift motion, as if he had just been touched by a rat who had come out off a trash can. He punched the man on his ribcafe after his fake of a charming smile vanished and turned into a dark frown as if he was no longer who he was before. His other hand reached to the other's mouth as the man made muffled yowls of pain. He, however, didn't even flinch once.
"You're damn lucky i'm a generous man, so make sure to take this as a lesson for the future, yes? to keep your hands to yourself? wouldn't want to cut all your fingers off and make a mess on my shirt."
he then smirked almost playfully, his expression once again changing in a matter of seconds before moving his hand up and shaking it, then putting it inside the pockets of his brown pants and using the other in order to adjust his white, high quality long-sleeved shirt. The man was now practically on the floor, whimpering as he crouched against the stone wall behind him as he shamefully covered his face with his shaking hands. It was truly an embarrassing sight. Once Rafe was finished, he turned his back and opened the back door to the bar, tilting his head to the side and staring at him one last time.
"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to more important matters- the wonderful evening I was having with her before you, very rudly I might say, abruptly interfered."
✶ gangster!rafe, who likes giving you nicknames that represent your beauty such as 'dollface', 'peach', and his personal favorite, 'dandelion'. You absolutely adore them too- the way they always roll off his tongue so sweetly, like butter being spread on a slice of bread. He's a man who admires and cares for your body, your mind and very being as if you were a princess or a delicate porcelain vase with beautiful painted flowers.
"Look at you, m' pretty dandelion all dolled up for me." he murmurs as he carefully places his head over your shoulder, blue orbs looking into your eyes through the mirror of your bedroom while his hands found your waist and gently nestled around it. His lips were slightly curved upwards, making the hint of his smile shown to you. One of his fingers traced small circles on your waist, making you let out a small and flustered chuckle as you covered your mouth with one of your hands in a polite manner to hide it. You were wearing one of your newer dresses- a pretty light blue polka-dotted dress that perfectly hugged your figure. This, was one of the many dresses Rafe gifted you in the past two weeks. Your lips had red tint and your cheeks had a faint pink color on them- a little bit of makeup, but not too much. His eyes trailed down, all the way to the contour of your legs and to the white leathered heels you were wearing. in his eyes, you truly were a work of art- like a Renaissance painting that had come to life. Now, he was a man that firmly believed that actions spoke more than words, so as soon as his eyes met with yours once again, he planted sweet kisses on your neck alongside little nibbles. This, was his own way of letting you know that you looked absolutely stunning.
✶ gangster!rafe, who, despite having so much blood on his hands, is always careful with you and tries to avoid showing you his darker side as much as he can. Who doesn't want you to know all the sins he has done, all the people he had killed before, in fear of loosing you forever.
''Y'know how much I care about you, right kid?'' he asks after taking a long drag from his cigarette, voice almost a whisper as he's sitting on the sofa of your living room while you laid next to him, head resting on the armrest and legs over his lap while his free hand slowly massages one of your bare feet. He stared at you, blinking slowly. The sudden of a question made you open your once closed eyes and perk your head up to look up at him with an innocent, confused stare. ''Well, certainly. I always have.'' you replied softly, giving him a reassuring smile before it vanished as soon as it appeared. You sensed that something was wrong. After all, why else would he ask this? ''Why do you ask?'' you continued, now scanning the expression on his face, despite the fact that he was a very hard man to read. He swallowed, but maintained eye contact. ''Nothin'. Just wanted to let you know how much I love you all over again.'' He knew he shouldn't lie to you- that he should tell you the truth about where all his money comes from, how his family got as powerful as it is, what kind of person he actually is. But it was too dangerous. Luckily for him, he was a good liar, an actor- if you may call it that. He grabbed the foot he was massaging and placed it near his lips before he kissed each one of your fingers in a slow, sensual manner. This made you relax and soon enough, you were resting once again, breathing calmly as you felt safe in his presence.
✶ gangster!rafe, who tries to stop by the flower shop every single day to say hello. No matter how busy he was, how much trouble he had gotten himself into, what kind of business he was doing that day, he never forgot about you. Ever.
✶ gangster!rafe, who likes to take you back to where the both of you had first met every once in a while. The place, in question, is les deus magots.
✶ gangster!rafe, who might be rough between the sheets, but is as gentle as he can be afterwards and makes your comfort his prime priority.
you let out quiet mews as he pounded into you, you legs wrapped around his hips as your plush breasts jiggled up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. Your plump lips remained parted as you felt out of breath, feeling an intense flutter in your tummy that only got stronger as his movements picked up a speed. It felt so good- too good, in fact. You couldn't help but let out some tears that started to run down your cheeks, eyes closed shut as you listened to his grunts. The bed was shaking, making the crackling sound echo through the bedroom.
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''There you go, shhh, you're okay.'' he whispers soothingly as he plants a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, both of you laying inside the warm bathtub. There were scented candles on the bathroom countertops, The lights on the pastel green walls turned off in order to enhance the ambiance of the room. Your muscles finally relaxed, and you felt yourself slowly start drifting into sleep while one of Rafe's hands massaged your shoulders. He seems content, blue eyes full of emotion as he looks down at you, hot breath against your neck and tiny droplets of water landing on your back from his wet and messy hair.
✶ gangster!rafe, who lets you spend his money on whatever you want, no matter what. All you have to do is ask, and he'll give you some cash- no questions asked.
✶ gangster!rafe, who loves the way your eyes brighten up whenever you're at the park and you find a pretty flower. Who later takes it from your little hands and places it on your hair.
✶ gangster!rafe, who gifted you a puppy one day as a surprise .
''So, I got you a little something.'' he tells you while he held in front of you a rather large red box with a big white bow around it between his arms. His tone was blunt, his expression the same as always, yet he was lightly tapping his foot against the wooden floor of your home. You were confused, to say the least, But of course- you accepted it, quickly taking it from his hands- perfectly manicured nails gripping it tightly. It was heavy- very heavy. ''Oh! I wonder what it could be!!'' you said almost in a lyrical shriek, excitement in your voice as you sat down on your sofa, legs crossed while you placed it right next to you. Suddenly, it moved, and your widening eyes drifted from the package to Rafe. ''No...no.. gosh, Rafe don't tell me it's what I think it is'' you murmured, placing your hands over your mouth. You were met with silence. Of course he didn't answer. Instead, he just tilted his head, almost as if he was attempting to hide the sly grin that was beginning to form on his lips. Not being able to control your excitement any longer, you carefully opened the box, taking the upper part away and revealing what was inside. You gasped, and your pretty shrieks of happiness filled the room. Rafe Cameron had gifted you a cocker spaniel puppy. A real puppy- not a plushie. ''Oh my goodness.. oh my goodness! oh wow- I have no words!'' you ran up to him and hugged him tightly- maybe a little too much. The puppy trotted towards the both of you and barked happily. ''Glad to be makin' you happy, peach'' he said before gently taking your chin in his hand to make you look up at him before kissing you on the lips.
✶ gangster!rafe, who wouldn't admit it out loud, but sometimes thinks that maybe.. you really are 'the one' for him...
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✶ a/n : GUYS GUYS I DID IT!! I know this is a bit short, but tbh.. I might write more about gangster!rafe in the future :) if anyone wants to request something with him you can feel free to do so too. I tried to include a little smut, but eh.. this was my first ever fic (if you could even call this a fic) so it's probably a bit...meh. Either way, I'm glad I finally finished it, and I hope it was enjoyable to read!!
✶ creds : @amariisflossy for the gangster!rafe idea, @dollywons for the second header
@sinisternymphette 2024
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bi-writes · 2 months
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they want the best. and they need to eliminate the recruits that can't stomach reality. (18+, sniper!fem!reader x ghost)
you have met them all save for one. pretty boy gaz, with a nice smile, and you wonder momentarily how many barracks bunnies make bets on how they'll get him in their bed.
he's too pretty not to be a slut.
and then there's johnny. big, snarky, with a potty mouth, and he always sounds right stupid when he talks, but when you see him in the field, you are in awe. he has nimble fingers, and it scares you how well he can use them.
their captain is kind. he exudes something fatherly, a keen sense of responsibility. it is obvious that chaos rolls off his back--he is calm, collected, easy to think and fast to act.
but the last one, the lieutenant--he has never been seen. he's a ghost, in name and in physicality. he was there, once, when it was the first day of your arrival. you stepped out of a car with five others, and when you stood in formation, he was standing by the door, arms crossed over his big chest as he surveyed the room.
he hasn't reappeared for six weeks.
six, grueling, terrible weeks. crawling through mud, through snow, in rain. breaking your nails as you climb walls of brick or wood, throw yourself over obstacles lined with barbwire, scrape your knees on hard sand as you hit your targets from a distance. you wake up before the sun is out, and you sleep once its long gone, and by the time the six weeks have passed, there are only three of you left.
you want this. you want it so bad, you feel it in your bones. you were bred for this, born for this, and you have everything to lose if you do not succeed. the girl beside you? she has a college degree. the cocky frat boy in the next tent? he's white, blond, and well-spoken--he will have it easy.
but you are you, and nothing is that simple, and you will not fail.
you cannot fail.
you stand shoulder to shoulder, your eyes trained on the wall as they size you up. you see a shadow at the door; you recognize it. you're asked to pick an opponent, and since you finished first during drills this morning, you are allowed to pick.
your head turns, and you eye the skull mask that glares a few yards away. you don't say anything, just meet his eyes, and the captain follows your line of sight before hooking his fingers into the straps of his vest and chuckling low.
"ye sure about that, sweetheart?" johnny asks, and you only blink.
"that one," you say softly. "that's the one."
that's the one.
it rings in his ears. the one. he's the one. you've chosen him. he hides, and yet you have seen him, and you choose him, and he is the one.
he stalks into the room, and his steps are heavy. his boots can crush skulls, and yet he walks easy, fluid as he makes his way over to you and looks down at you.
you have not seen him so close. he is huge. a bear of a man, wide and tall and hulking, and you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes.
your lips part, and his gaze lowers as he watches your tongue slide over your teeth just that much, a telltale sign that you are not afraid.
ghost straightens, turns, and he gives the captain an unreadable, parting look before he leaves. you stare after him, and then back, and you swallow, wondering if you had done something wrong.
but johnny grins. and gaz raises a brow. and your captain sniffs, masking a chuckle, and you watch the three of them settle in front of you.
you realize later, when ghost has you bent over, knees spread so he can put his face between your thighs, that their reaction was simply acceptance.
you choose him. and he chooses you.
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ode2rin · 6 months
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Rin thinks you’re pretty. 
No, scratch that; it was far too inadequate to describe you that way. If he were to be utterly honest, you were exquisitely, heartbreakingly beautiful, far more than his heart could contain.
You’re pretty when you spoke, when you said his name, when you smiled – oh God, don't even get him started on how your smile could brighten even the darkest of days. He was certain that a face like yours was meant for smiling, and it was even brighter when he was the reason behind it.
Right now, however, Rin finds it hard to look at your face when you’re like this – crying.
and it is even worse when he’s the source of it.
“Stop crying, dumbass,” he whispered, sighing. 
“Then stop getting into fights, you asshole,” you retorted back in between sobs.
Rin fell silent after your reply. He couldn't find the right words, not with your sobs filling the room and drowning his thoughts. He watched you as you applied a small amount of betadine to a cotton swab and wiped away your tears before turning to him.
“Take a seat. Let me clean that,” you offered, pertaining to the small cut o n his lip.
Rin took one long look at your face, and without a word, he moved to the corner of your bed, feeling the familiar dip of the mattress beneath him while you pulled the chair beside your table and placed it in front of him.
He'd been here countless times before. Growing up with your mothers being best friends meant that you were practically childhood friends by default, and that also meant spending endless hours in each other's homes.
But this time was different from all the previous visits; it was the first time he was in your room, no longer just a close friend anymore. That reality and your crushing tears – they were consuming all corners of his thoughts.
You closed the gap between you two to get a better look at the swollen cut from a blow he had taken. You gently dabbed the swab around the wound and felt Rin's sharp intake of breath as you did so.
You began to reason, “This wouldn't happen if you could've just–”
“I don't want to hear it.”
You bit your lower lip and tears started swelling again in the corner of your eyes. Rin was nothing if not so fucking stubborn– that you knew since childhood, but you wished he could put it aside for a moment and truly listen to you.
“Okay,” you coldly said, conceding and turning your focus on cleaning his wound.
Rin wanted to pummel his own self in the ground because of the passing hurt that graced your eyes from how he cut you off. A sniff escaped you and Rin physically felt his heart contract.
What was he supposed to do? Stand by and let those damn assholes make lewd comments about you? There was no way in hell he would just let it slide.
This wasn't the first time Rin had taken matters into his own hands when it came to you. Since third grade, Rin had taken his mom's words about looking after you to heart. And it had always been that way, even back when he was hellbent in denying his feelings. Not an ounce of rationality graces his mind when it comes to you, so you should've already known that he didn't have it in him to hold back.
He caught your hand and gently squeezed it. The gesture prompted you to look at him briefly before turning your gaze away, still hurt from his dismissal of your concern.
“I didn’t mean that,” he squeezes your hand again, “Look at me, please.”
You turned your head to meet your stubborn boyfriend. This time, you let the tears fall freely.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, sincere and uncharacteristically gentle, “Speak to me, y/n.”
“I just..” you sobbed, “I don’t like it when you get hurt. That’s all.”
“I don’t like it more when you get hurt,” he countered.
“It's just some stupid words from stupid people, Rin. They're not worth it.”
“But you are.”
Your heart raced at Rin's words. when you raise your gaze to seek his’, you are met with a pair of half-lidded teal eyes staring right into you.
“You’re the one who’s worth it.”
Rin's words lingered in the air, leaving you utterly speechless. You never expected him to utter something so heartfelt – after all, this was Itoshi Rin. A man capable of almost anything, yet kind words seemed to be an exception. Then again, this was Rin, the very same man who believed he wasn't adept at love and yet chose to lay his heart bare in your palms, albeit a bit stubbornly.
As you struggled to find words to express how much his words meant to you, Rin gently raised his hands to wipe away the lingering tears in your eyes. His fingers brushed against the loose strands of hair nearly covering your eyes, tucking them away with meticulous care. His touch was so gentle that it’s almost hard to believe it was the same hands who mercilessly struck two men hours ago.
His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer until you were almost seated on his right leg. The closeness made your heart swell, and you couldn't help but nestle into his warmth.
“Stop crying, please?” he murmured, “you’re getting your snot in my shirt.” 
Way to ruin a moment. “I hate you,” you jokingly scoff against his neck.
“No, you don’t,” he disagrees, so full of conviction it needed some humbling.
“You bet? No kisses,” you see him smirk at your declaration, “until that cut completely heals,” you added, wiping that smirk on his face.
A laugh escaped you at the sudden shift in his expression. gone was the challenged smirk and all that's left are furrowed brows and a subtle pout. 
How dare you take that away from him? Maybe you do hate him, Rin is convinced.
“Still worth it, baby?” you ribbed, seemingly enjoying his misery.
“Yes.” with you finally smiling? Absolutely. You’re smiling, and sometimes, it’s enough and more – even for Itoshi Rin.
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note. ode2RIN comeback because of rinturn 2023 (I KNOW IT'S LATE)
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drivergemini · 2 years
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hellfire baby :: e.m.
summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne
content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie
word count: 1013
when all of the hellfire boy’s entered through the theater room’s doors, they felt a huge rush of excitement. eddie had been hyping up his new campaign for about a month and told everyone that he was going to do something real special for their first meeting. 
what they did not expect was a small little girl, maybe around 1 or 2 years old, sitting in their dungeon master’s place. she had a pink dragon onesie on and her big brown eyes stared back at the group. 
“why good evening lovely gentlemen.” eddie popped out from behind his throne, holding a small sandwich bag filled with ‘star wars’ cookies. he handed it to the child with barely any acknowledgement and she gladly grabbed it with eager hands. “are you lads ready to start this wonderful campaign?”
each boy had their own looks of confusion on their faces. they looked at eddie and then the child, then back again.
“eddie why the hell is there a baby here?” dustin was the one who spoke up. 
eddie’s face sported a wide grin. “well guys i would like to introduce you to the surprise i mentioned.” he scooped up the little girl and presented her to the d&d club memebers. “everyone this is my daughter mei. say hi mei mei.”
“hi mei mei.” the little voice spoke a she waved a tiny hand to the boys. she tugged her onesie hood down, reveling long, brown hair, just like her dad’s.
“daughter? eddie we didn’t even know you could speak to girls?” mike chimed in.
“well wheeler, if it matters to you, i don’t speak to girls because i already have my fiance.” he raised his eyebrows at the last part. 
you see, eddie munson didn’t become a super-super senior because he was dumb. he became a super-super senior because he accidentally got his high school girlfriend pregnant. they had been together since they were 16. eddie and y/n were going great until the summer before their senior year. y/n’s pregnancy took a large toll to both of their academics, so eddie decided he would try and lighten his girlfriend’s stress load. on april 29th, 1984, their daughter was born. 
he thought y/n’s future was too bright for her to be held back, so after she gave birth he let her continue as an almost normal high school student. eddie didn’t get to graduate that year. but he did get to hold his baby as he watched the love of his life walk the stage. 
he didn’t graduate his second senior year either. he was too caught up in healthy parenting and making sure he was there to watch his daughter’s firsts. he watched her first steps, her first time eating solid foods, and even heard her first word. ‘dragon’.
so here he was, his third senior year, finally ready to walk that stage.
as eddie finished up the story he heard a sniff. all heads turned toward the direction of lucas. 
“dude that story was so beautiful. i didn’t even know that.”
“yeah most people don’t except a few people who were in school during that time like harrington. but y/n kind of chose to drop off the map so it isn’t talked about much.” eddie sat down in his chair and placed his daughter on his lap. “now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?”
eddie’s new campaign was centered around exploring an abandoned gem mine to figure out what was terrorizing the near by townsfolk. 
“so little dwarf, you enter the cave with your mates behind you. as you guide them with your light, the air becomes increasingly warm. as you approach the growing heat, you see a shimmer of pink scales.”
“munson you did not...” dustin starts as his hands grip the table.
“you raise your torch higher and you see her in all her glory...” eddie lifts mei off of his lap and places her in the middle of the table. “mei the fire breathing dragon.”
all the boys start to exclaim in frustration. what kind of sick father makes his own kid the first boss of his d&d campaign? eddie munson that’s who. after explaining they all need a time out to discuss, they all huddled in the corner. 
“dude what are we going to do? we can’t slay the dragon. i mean look at her, she’s adorable!” dustin whispered.
“i mean honestly if you think about it, it’s just a game.” mike said. typical.
“yes but the moral principal of it is, eddie knows that we would have to be sick son’s of bitches to kill a kid. especially his daughter.” dustin explained frustrated. 
him and mike felt a little wedge between their legs. they all looked down to see mei still holding her bag of cookies. 
“tooktie?” she raised it up to the air, offering the boys a share of her snack. 
each boy took only one, while politely thanking her for sharing. she unwedged herself from the huddle and waddled towards her dad. 
“juice peas?” she said to him, pointing to a sippy cup sitting on the table. he handed her the cup and looked at the clock on the wall.
“unfortunately boys, time is up for today’s meeting.” eddie tsked. 
just as he said that, y/n opened the door to the club room and walked in scanning around. each person all had their eyes on her.
“mommy!” mei squealed, running towards the young woman. she jumped into her arms, y/n picking her up and spinning her around. 
eddie grabbed a small child lunch box and walked towards the two girls. “as you see i can't stay any later than i’m supposed to tonight guys. but this will give you some more time to think about your next move.”
he trailed behind the two girls, waving everyone goodbye. 
as the door closed, each hellfire member could hear a faint, “eddie why is our daughter talking about slaying a dragon?”
followed by “edward munson why did our daughter just say son of a bitch?”
16K notes · View notes
inkyray · 27 days
Note
your sick matt fic was so good!! can u make a part 2 sorta (or not) where hes finally recovered but now his gf gets sick and he has to take care of her?
a/n: got to writing immediately i fear
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content ahead/warnings: sick!reader x matt sturniolo, vomiting, fluff, not proof read lol, other shit idk
part 2 to this
TOLD U SO
A rush of utter heat wraps you whole, and you feel unconsciously frustrated as you twist and turn from out of Matt's grasp. Hoping for some sort of light and feathery breeze to hit your sleeping body.
You subconsciously begin whining in your sleep, the feeling of only hot and thick air doing nothing to cleanse your body, your nose stuffing itself from a simple sniff of air. You raise a few fingers to rub your still-closed eyes together, meeting directly with your burning sticky skin. Your unreasonably high body temperature sends a quick shock through your body, still rubbing your eyes.
"You all right, baby?" Matt shifted to his side, his voice low, gravelly, and husk. Without even considering your options, you immediately shake your head no. His large hands make their way to your forehead, and he feels himself getting upset. "You're burning hot, sweetheart."
If you were half asleep before, you were now just opening your eyes. An undeniable wave of physical exhaustion punching you in every bone of your body. "I told you, we shouldn't have kissed. You were too close to me the entire night, I knew you'd get sick too." He huffs, stressed out for you, his hands pressing the hair that stuck to your face due to accumulated sweat out of the way. You frown deep.
"You got me sick." You point out, your soft voice matching his with its roughness crackles, you feel your sore throat form almost immediately and you wince. "No, you're the one who kept wanting to kiss me and rub all up on me." He shrugged in defense and you can't argue with that.
"As long as I get to kiss you some more today."
He chuckles, able to get up from the spot on the bed and head for his bathroom. "You're unbelievable, kid."
Your eyes dart to the sound of the running bathroom sink and the gross sloth feeling of continuing to lay in this bed any longer. As soon as you were back to normal, you would be deep cleaning this room front to back. You stiffen, making up the mental courage to lift yourself out of the bed.
Lifting your head up first, a wave of utter wonkiness punches you in the face, your head feels like it is spinning in your mind. The migraine was forming now, but you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, making it to the bathroom.
You mentally feel the strength of your legs and thighs even when still laying on the bed, and then you look at the ground. You huff a whine, your body too hot for your skin. "Matt." You call for him, he answers immediately with a "You okay, sweetheart?", the sound of foam and a toothbrush in his mouth.
"Help me make it to the bathroom." You murmur, softly peeling the blankets from off of you. Matt walks back in, and in seconds he scoops you up. With a hand under both your knees for support and a large hand on your back, he takes you to the bathroom as you yelp at the sudden action. You figured the soup you made him last night definitely helped.
"Feeling better, hm?" You mutter, holding onto his neck for better support. He turns his head to look at you, kissing your lips with a long peck before kissing your neck, you get a mild taste of toothpaste in your mouth, scrunching up your nose. "Enough, Matt. Or you'll get sick again." You warn as he places you to sit on the bathroom counter.
"Then it'll be a cute never-ending cycle of us getting really sick and kissing each other." He said it like he was fond of the idea, looking at you then himself at the mirror, going back to brushing his teeth.
"Not a good thing." You point out, turning your back to stare at your reflection. You looked bedridden, your hair a messy bunch and your skin sickly flushed. "You look gorgeous though, so that's a plus." He rinses out his mouth, bending down to the height of the sink as you take the opportunity to run your hands through his knotted hair, fixing it for him.
He stands back up again, turning to look at the shower before back at you. You raise a tired eyebrow. "You think I should try for a shower? I feel disgusting and I think I've recovered enough to take one." He looks for your opinion on his question and you offer him a lazy shrug. "You're an able adult with a mind of your own."
"Yeah, but, I need to know what you think." He stands in between your legs, resting his hands on both your thighs. "Whenever I do something without your approval, I always regret it." You can't help it, you kiss him again. "Take a shower." You pull away and he grins. "But make sure you dry your hair really well."
"I know, I know." He winks, taking off his shirt as you drop to your feet. The sudden weight against the floor is a lot for your feeble sick body, you use the counter to lean on for help, before your knees buckle and have you fall. "Careful!" Matt urges, his eyes widening and a quick hand holding you still by the waist. You offer a smile. "I'm okay."
You turn the sink on, splattering your face with cold water. The temperature difference being so ultimate, it has you squeeze your eyes shut and take it all in for a moment. Washing your face, you hear the shower faucet turn on and Matt enters it from beside you.
"Make sure the water is hot on your skin!" You yell over the clattering water from the shower, making sure he heard you. You were always bossing Matt around like a mother, being an older sister definitely taking a load onto your personality. You dry your face, going in to brush your teeth now, hearing Matt turn the faucet as steam begins to form around him.
"Not too hot, Matt."
"I'm not into the whole idea of accidental suicide, so don't worry about that." He says over the water.
"You can't die from that." You correct, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.
"God, even when you're sick."
You chuckle, giving Matt an opportunity to close his eyes under that hot water and let your laugh melt through his ears.
"I'm gonna take a piss." You announce, rinsing your mouth out and peeling your pants down to your thighs as you sit on the toilet.
"You better not fucking flush." He ordered, making sure you heard the warning in his voice. 
You wiped, getting back up and flushing, darting out of the bathroom. You laugh at the sound of Matt screaming your name due to the sudden temperature change of water until sudden dizziness takes over your sight and mind. For a full second, your vision blurry so bad you genuinely couldn't see anything as your head spins in circles like a basketball.
"Fuck." You gasp, dropping yourself onto the unmade bed you and Matt slept in, trying to get your mind back together.
-
Not even a whole 10 minutes pass and Matt was out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel as he searched for you, seeing you dead asleep on his bed. Just then realization dawns upon him that today he'll need to look after you, the same you had. Any feeling of playful irritation left him and he was now changing into his clothes, his blue eyes on you as he tried to figure out how you took care of him so he could repeat that action.
Medicine.. Soup. Soup. He wondered if there was any left. Finishing putting his clothes on, he shuts the door quietly behind him, not wanting to wake you up. The environment around him definitely made it obvious that Chris and Nick were awake, seeing them seated in the kitchen.
"Matt!" Chris happily calls, seeing him much better than yesterday. He smiles, taking a seat at the table as he watches Nick cook up breakfast.  "Are you feeling any better?" Nick asks, putting sausage on a plate. "Yeah, all thanks to her," Matt points to the direction of his room where you're sleeping. "But at what cost." He sighed, feeling the guilt of getting you sick.
"What? She got sick too?" Chris wonders and Nick frowns. "Aw fuck."
"Yeah. She worked so hard yesterday, too. I feel so bad." Matt sighs, grabbing onto the fork Nick handed him and taking a quick bite from the breakfast. It wasn't your cooking, the flavor dull in his mouth as he chewed it down. The sound of murmured worries erupt from his brothers. "Whatever, is there any of the soup she made left?"
Chris almost jumps at the mention of the soup. "Dude, did you try it? It was so fucking good."
"Yeah. She made it for me. Is there any of it left?" Matt repeats himself, Nick shakes his head. "Nah, fucking Chris over here finished it all." Matt turns to glare at his brother.
"What?"
"You don't even like soup."
"Your girlfriend's soup doesn't count though, you've seen the way she cooks."
He was right, Matt couldn't argue with that.
-
Almost the entire day had passed and you had practically nothing in your stomach. Matt had tried anything, but your feverish appetite kept you from swallowing anything down. You claimed the food was either under seasoned, not cooked well enough, too cold, and more. Matt had gone out with Nick to the store to buy you pre-cooked meals, but the thing with you, you can smell if something isn't homemade from a mile away.
He holds the spoon of rice to your mouth, but you twist your head the other way, refusing to eat it. "Please, baby, come on." He begs, "You need to eat, you have to have food in your system so you could take the medicine."
You huff, shuffling under his blankets, looking for something. "I'll just take the medicine now."
He clicks his tongue, signifying no. "Nope, you will eat this whether you like it or not." He holds your hands down to shove the spoon in your mouth, but your head dodges it immediately, turning the other way. He groans your name, you stick your tongue out.
"I'm not eating that shit."
"Yes, you are." He grabs ahold of your jaw, locking it in place as his separate hand shoves the rice in your mouth. "Chew." He holds your jaw tight, closing it for you, knowing you were gonna spit it out. You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at him as you chew.
His grip on you loosens and drops his hand when he's certain you won't spit it out. Wrong move. You spit the rice out immediately onto the plate. He yells your name before accepting his defeat. "You have to eat, or else you'll throw up, stupid." He grumbled after a little while.
"Nah, I won't."
-
Was being completely and utterly stupid a part of sick symptoms?
You were snuggled up onto Matt's side, watching a movie on his laptop, sneezing and coughing in every direction but his, determined not to get him sick again. Even if that meant you're getting his entire room contaminated. His hand was met with your bare skin that your big shirt failed to cover, his palm sneaking into your shirt and rubbing your hot skin up and down for some sort of comfort.
Now, what made you stupid, was that you still took the medicine. And halfway through the movie, your stomach starts churning. Your eyes widen at the sudden clench of your stomach and you jump up, immediately heading for the bathroom as Matt's hand disappears from your side. Bending down to the toilet, Matt jumps to his feet and follows you inside and you immediately start gagging into the toilet.
You throw up an empty stomach, which hurts more. Matt worriedly holds your hair back as another hand rubs your back, understanding quickly what was happening. You gag, everything you consumed the other day clears its way out of your body. Matt winces behind you, determined to keep your hair out of the way as he watches the pained look on your face.
The feeling chimes down, and you stand back up, dizzier than you were before, with Matt still using his hands for a make-shift ponytail before dropping it down. You feel yourself almost fall, grabbing onto his forearms for support, taking a few steps toward the sink.
Rinsing your mouth, Matt speaks, "Is it too soon to say I told you so?"
You decide to wash your face, too. "Shut up, bitch." He chuckled nervously from behind you. You felt disgusting and exhausted. "I need a shower." You mutter, rubbing your eyes as sick tiredness gets to you again.
"Not today!" He declares, motioning you back into the bedroom. "I feel so sweaty and gross." You mumbled, leaning on him, not really wanting to use any effort for yourself after that god awful vomit experience. He notices, preferring to pick you up than have you walk on your own.
"I could get you a new set of clothes?" He suggests instead, laying you back onto his bed. "Mmm." You hum in approval, laying fully on your back, too tired to even speak anymore. You felt worse than you did in the morning.
He grabs some folded clothes, all of which belonged to him as he looks back at you. Your eyes were closed, your breathing out of order as you tried to steady it again. You feel both of Matt's thumbs hook around each side of your waistband before slowly shoving them down, his cold fingertips brushing against your burning hot body. Taking the pants off you, he takes one of your legs and puts it in the leg hole of sweatpants that belonged to him, repeating the action on the other leg before pulling it past your thighs and to your hips. He ties the strings around your waist so it wouldn't fall off you.
"Thank you, Matt." You slur, barely able to open your eyes again as your mind begins going blank. "Anything for you, love." He softly takes your shirt off of your head as you lift your arms up lazily for some sort of help. Matt grins at your lazy action, putting a graphic t-shirt over your head. You seemed completely out of it, so he puts your arms through the holes for you, making sure your stomach is fully covered. "Sleepy, huh?" He says more to himself than you.
A small part of your mind hadn't completely fallen asleep, your ears picking up on it but not registering what he'd said, humming in response to make it seem like you were still awake. Matt fixes your position on the bed. It was only 8:00 PM at night, and he still needed to film a car video in a few hours. He knew exactly what he would bring up.
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yaksha-lover · 3 months
Text
It Will Come Back
Summary: You take in an injured fox, nursing it back to health. It keeps coming back, some times more human-like than others.
Kitsune!Malleus Draconia x Reader
cw: very minor description of blood/gore, mentioned wild animal death, minor suggestive jokes, starts out a little spooky (or so i tried) but inevitably becomes wholesome-ish, pls ignore typos i’m too tired to proof-read
The fox you find by the riverside isn’t like any you’ve seen before. His fur is so dark that it takes a moment for you to even notice the wet blood matting the left side of his rib cage.
The sight of an injured animal is all too common for you. Living far from any big towns means there’s hardly any available treatment for them. Your neighbour, the only other living person around here, always dismisses your worries about the poor creatures, telling you that it’s only the circle of life.
As much as you know he’s right, your bleeding heart insists on taking the black fox home, if only for him to have some comfort in his last moments. You know he won’t survive the journey to town; he may not have the hours necessary to get there.
He’s large for a fox, too. You consider calling your neighbour to help, but you know he’ll only roll his green eyes at your pleas. Instead, you lift him into a wheelbarrow as gently as you can, and pull him back to your small cottage.
He whimpers a little as you move him, but his eyes remain closed. When you arrive, you transport him carefully to the makeshift bed you’ve put together, piles of blankets you hope will be enough to keep him warm and comfortable.
When you come back with water and some medical supplies, the fox opens one eye. It’s strangely eerie, the way he stares at you as you approach. His lime gaze is intense and focused, almost as though he’s trying to examine you, peeling away your skin with his eyes. You shake off the feeling, knowing you’re probably overthinking things.
He’s only an animal, after all.
The fox remains silent as you clean his wounds. Thankfully, they don’t seem as bad as you initially suspected. It’s strange - there seemed to be so much blood before, the wound was practically gushing. Was it a trick of the light?
You must be tired from your long day of foraging; now you’re seeing things.
You leave him wrapped in bandages and huddled in blankets to rest for the night.
-
The next morning, you awake to a warmth at your side. It’s been getting a bit colder, but even your blankets don’t tend to run this hot. You pop an eye open and panic for a moment at the fluffy black mass curled up beside you. You giggle to yourself when you realize what’s happened.
“How’d you get up here, little fox? I thought you’d feel too ill to move.”
The fox raises his head at the noise, tilting it as you speak. You offer him your hand, and he sniffs it, before moving his head to be cupped in your extended palm.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. Make yourself at home,” you say, petting him gently between the ears. He closes his eyes and settles into your touch.
As you get up to begin your day, you expect him to stay curled up in your sheets. Instead, he hops off the bed, suddenly wide awake, and prances happily behind you into the kitchen, no sign of the injury he suffered just last night.
Questions run through your mind, unease playing in your stomach. It’s all so bizzare, but you try to settle the anxiety. Why question a good thing, no matter how strange?
-
“What should I call you, little guy? I don’t want to keep calling you ‘the fox.’”
He stares at you, green eyes narrowed softly as he takes a seat on your couch, making himself at home by cuddling into the cushions. The seating is already worn down, but either way, you wouldn’t care much about where he sat.
“Hmm, how about Tsunotarou? Your ears are so pointy, they almost look like little horns!”
He raises his head to look at you, as though he understands. You smile back at him, mooning over his cuteness and reaching a hand out to pet him. You hover your hands over his head, waiting for his go ahead.
You beam when he pushes his head up into your hand, petting enthusiastically but remaining gentle for his sake.
You’re interrupted by a knock at the door. There’s only one person who ever comes over, so it’s no surprise to hear the voice of your neighbour ring out in the silence.
“Oi, open the door, herbivore. What’s all this blood outside your home?”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s not mine,” you call from inside. You walk to the door, letting him in. “I…made another rescue attempt.”
He gives you a look that screams ‘seriously’. “Another failure then? I don’t know why you do this to yourself.”
“Actually, Leona, this one was a success. Check my couch before you doubt me so fast.”
Leona pushes you gently away from the doorway so he can come in, and peeks around the corner.
The expression on his face morphs from surprise to confusion to disappointment. Leona sighs. “You didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? Save a life? Clearly, I did. Although, I’ll admit Tsunotarou wasn’t in such bad shape, so maybe I didn’t do too much of the work. But still, you can stop calling me silly for wanting to try-”
“Tsunotarou??” Leona stares at the fox. He stares back and almost seems…amused? Strange, your fox certainly was expressive and clever. “Ugh, this is too much for me to deal with. You’re an adult, you can handle it. I’m just going to leave these here.”
Leona drops a bag of meat on the counter. It was part of your usual trade; he’d give you part of his hunt, and you’d give him part of what you grew in your garden.
“No one asked you to help deal with him? What do you mean…”
Leona ignores your questioning, heading out of your kitchen and stopping as he passes by the couch where Tsunotarou still lays, watching. He turns to face him.
“Don’t hurt them. I’ll be checking in again soon, so no tricks, or else you’ll be dealing with me.”
“Did you just threaten my rescue fox?”
He ignores you once again, only pausing briefly in the doorway to leave you with a final warning.
“Scream if you need help.” With that, Leona is off, probably back to his cottage across the field.
You’re left confused, but Leona rarely cares to let you in on what he’s thinking, so you try your best to just ignore his words. There’s a prick of fear in the back of your mind, though, because Leona is never serious, but his warning certainly seemed to be.
No, he’s just been talking nonsense. How could the sweet angel on your couch be any threat? Tsunotarou had cuddled up to you just this morning.
You finally turn back to him. He’s watching you. Again. With a slight head tilt this time, his dark ears standing straight, as though he’s curious. You approach the fox to sit beside him on the couch. Once you begin your soft pets, he places his head into your lap.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. Big bad Leona won’t hurt you. I don’t know what’s up with him today. He’s probably just spooked from all the dead animals that have been showing up around the area. I mean, what does he expect, we live in the woods.”
Tsunotarou picks himself up from the couch. You expect him to jump off, maybe even try to escape through the door. Instead, he plants himself fully in your lap, curling up into a tight little ball.
Even the overwhelming cuteness of the situation is too much for you to ignore how strange it is. As you stroke your hand across his fur once again, you wonder how this wild fox could be so tame. Was he someone’s pet once? He had no collar, but he could’ve been lost years ago.
With the warmth of the fox in your lap, it’s easy to drift off to sleep for a quick nap.
-
Tsunotarou’s gone when you wake up. At first you think he’s just gone off to explore the house, but you’ve checked every room and he’s nowhere to be found. Which would normally be fine (he is a wild animal after all, he deserves to be where he belongs) except for the fact that no doors nor windows were open or broken. Tsunotarou had disappeared with no explanation.
-
You awaken to a familiar warmth, the brush of something soft against your bare legs.
“Were you hiding somewhere Tsunotarou?” You smile, eyes still closed as you snuggle against- skin?
“Not hiding. I had some business to attend to.”
Your eyes pop open as whatever is in your bed circles its arms around you, letting out a scream as two very human eyes stare back at you. You scramble out of its hold.
“What the hell?! Who are you? Get out of my bed!”
He pouts. “You just said yourself, I’m Tsunotarou.”
“No, Tsunotarou is a-” It’s only then you take notice of the dark ears poking out of his head and the three tails swaying behind him. “How did you- never mind, just get out of my bed first! Who told you you could be there?”
He steps out from your sheets, thankfully clothed in a loose black kimono. “My apologies. Children of man have changed much since I last spoke to one. I did not realize I would alarm you with my presence in this form.”
“So what, you’re some kind of monster?”
Malleus frowns. “I prefer the term creature. Monster suggests something…wicked.”
“Alright, creature then.” You narrow your eyes. “What kind?”
He approaches you and ruffles your hair, sharp claws dragging gently against your scalp before you have the chance to pull away. “Surely you can guess by my form. Have you truly never encountered a kitsune before?”
“A kitsune? I thought they were only tales told by bored grandparents.”
“I’m a mori kitsune, so it’s understandable you’ve never seen my kind before. But it’s likely you’ve met a different kind of kitsune who prefers the more…urban spaces that children of man typically occupy.”
“You don’t like being around humans?”
He hums. “I wouldn’t say that’s true. Rather, the opposite seems to be the case. Most children of man find me…unsettling, despite my best efforts.” He makes eye contact, a small smile appearing on his face. “But not you. You took care of me.”
“When…when I thought you were a fox.”
“Technically, I am still a fox,” he says cheekily.
You glare weakly, but your ire doesn’t seem to break his good mood.
-
You’re out gathering herbs for dinner when you spot it. A trickle of deep red, so dry it almost looks brown, which builds into a streak across the ground, as though whatever left it behind was dragged as it thrashed.
Although you know you live in a forest full of wild animals, the scenes you’ve come across recently have been…odd. Brutal. As though whatever’s been killing and eating the animals has a strangely horrifying way of committing the act, leaving behind carnage, but never a body.
You force yourself to shake off the unsettling feeling and return back home once you’re done.
-
“Hello, my dear.”
You jump slightly at the voice. Tsunotarou sits on your couch when you return. You’d asked him to leave the previous day, after your long bouts of questioning left you exhausted and unable to deal with all the information. He seems to have returned to reclaim the same place he occupied as a fox. You don’t bother asking how he got in.
“Hello…Tsunotarou? It feels strange to keep calling you that made up name…do you plan to offer your own?” you ask as you put away the things you’d gathered in your cupboards.
He waits for a moment to respond, considering your words. “I suppose I can, although I do not mind your other name for me. You may call me Malleus, if you wish.”
“Malleus, huh. Why do I feel like I’ve heard your name before?”
“Perhaps in another lifetime, you spoke it often,” his smile grows as you turn around and look at him skeptically. “Just jesting, of course.”
You roll your eyes when you turn around. He’s certainly made himself comfortable with you; you can’t really say the same, considering how long you’ve known each other.
Still, you’re so unsettled by what you’ve been seeing for the past few weeks, you risk allowing him to believe you’re closer than you are to have someone to talk to about it.
“You wander out in the woods at night, right? Have you seen the blood and…things, left behind by something?”
His reply is delayed, but you barely take notice. “Yes, I have.”
“Isn’t it disturbing? I just keep thinking, what’s moved into the forest to do something like that, like it’s some kind of performance of torment instead of an animal eating to survive.”
Malleus only hums, offering you no comfort. “I never considered that.”
The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. You start on dinner, and he seems content to watch you from the couch. Since he’s already here, you offer to make a larger portion so he can have some as well.
“Thank you, but I’ve already dined today,” he replies.
It’s only once you’ve finished cooking and have settled into your kitchen table that Malleus makes his way from the couch to occupy the seat across from you.
You’re halfway through your soup when a question forms in your head.
“Malleus, how did you get hurt when I found you?” You look up at him, his green eyes finding yours.
Another pause before he answers. “It was a mere tussle with a…friend.”
“A friend did that to you? I thought you were going to die?!”
“Well, perhaps he would not consider me a friend. And while your concern is certainly endearing, I was in no true danger. Did you happen to notice how fast my wounds healed?”
“I guess I did…” Although it raises the question why he’s so insistent on clinging to you when you barely did anything to care for him, let alone save his life. “Your friend…where is he now?”
“Across the field. What children of man call ‘your neighbour’.”
“Leona? Leona did that to you? How is that even possible, I thought kitsune are infinitely stronger than humans?”
“Is that what he told you?” Malleus drawls.
“No, you’re the one who told me…what do you mean?”
He sighs in understanding. “Never mind, I suppose that is his business to tell you.”
“To tell me what?”
“Why don’t you pay your ‘friend’ a visit? It seems you have some things to discuss.”
-
Leona answers within a few seconds of your knocking, standing in the doorframe. When you stare at him without saying anything, his tail starts swishing in discomfort. Since when has he had a tail?
“You need something, herbivore? That little fox causing you trouble?”
You ignore his question. “Can I come in?”
He doesn’t reply, swinging the door open and stepping out of the way. You take off your shoes at the door and head into his living room.
“Make yourself at home, I guess,” he grumbles, following you.
You turn around to face him. “Why did you hurt Malleus? How do you even know a kitsune?”
“‘Malleus,’ is he now? What happened to Tsunotarou?”
“I didn’t know he wasn’t just a fox, okay? You didn’t tell me, but apparently you knew this whole time?”
He looks away from you. “I figured the problem would resolve itself. Kitsune aren’t exactly known for sticking around humans. Unfortunately, it seems he’s taken an interest in you.”
“And you fought him? Do you have a death wish? There’s no way a human could take on a kitsune!”
“I’m not- never mind. Let’s just say I was in an…altered state of mind. Wasn’t thinking clearly. Can we leave it at that?”
“That’s all you’re going to give me? No explanation for why you attacked him? Are you responsible for all the brutal animal killings too?”
Leona rolls his eyes. “You’re accusing me? Like you don’t already know how those happened.”
“What?”
“You can’t be serious. Are you really this obtuse?”
“Just spit it out, Leona.
“Malleus is the one who eats them, idiot. He’s a fox who likes to play with his prey”
“But- his fox form is petite? How is that possible?”
Leona rolls his eyes. “He can go from fox to human but that’s your concern? He’s magic and a trickster, so don’t believe everything your senses tell you.”
-
You think Malleus has left by the time you return from Leona’s, but he’s really made himself at home in your bedroom instead. You don’t bother addressing it yet.
“Why did you lie to me?”
His eyes look up from his book. Your book. “I have never lied to you, child of man.”
“Leona told me the truth! I know you’re the one who’s been killing those poor animals. How can I trust you, no, feel safe around you after you lied, and did…all that.”
“Your ‘neighbour’ is just the same as me. Do you no longer trust him as well?”
You sit down beside him on the bed. “Leona’s a kitsune?”
Malleus chuckles. “No. He has lied to you, though. He is not human but wolf. He hunts, just the same as I do. He just happens to be better at cleaning up his messes, I suppose.”
“I…I guess that makes sense. But that’s different. I know Leona, he’s my friend. And he doesn’t torment his prey.”
Malleus’ ears sag and he pouts. “I believed we were friends as well. We dined together. I slept in your bed.”
“When I thought you were an animal! Now you’re somebody else.”
“I am the same. It wounds me terribly that you’d change your opinion of me based on my appearance.” He sighs. “I suppose it’s only natural. Others often judge me quickly as well.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You know it’s not like that. If I’d met you like this, I wouldn’t have…”
“Wouldn’t have treated me so kindly?”
“No, I just…I don’t know how it is for you kitsune, but for humans, sharing a bed is…”
“Intimate?” he offers. “I am aware. I simply believed you were enamoured with me. ‘Love at first sight,’ isn’t that what children of man like to say?”
“You were a fox,” you deadpan.
“And now, I am human. Primarily.” His ear twitches. “I know now that changes things, but perhaps it is for the better? There’s many things I’ve yet to try in this form, and now I have my own child of man to teach me. Delightful, isn’t it?”
“Hm, I guess so. You can’t sleep with me, though.”
He tilts his head. “In what sense?”
You try to flick him on the forehead but he stops you, linking his hand with your own instead. “Do you even know how- uh-”
He laughs. “Yes, I am aware how children of man mate.”
“Never mind, we’ve gotten off track.” You glare at him. “I’m still angry with you.”
“I am aware. I find your flushed look quite compelling.”
“I wish you hadn’t lied to me.”
“Technically, I hadn’t. You never asked if it was I who killed them.” He shakes his head. “Kitsune must eat, but I would have never done so in that manner, if I had known it would be upsetting to you. I haven’t since our conversation, and I will not going forward, I promise you, dear child of man.”
“You’d do that? For me?”
“Of course. Anything for you, my darling.”
“But why? I’ve barely done anything for you?”
“You offered me kindness, which is in short supply for kitsune. And I find I quite like your abode.” He moves closer, catching your chin in his hand and turning you to face him. “I would enjoy spending more time here, if it would be permissible to you?”
“I guess that would be okay…but no funny business.”
His lips twitches. “None at all.”
-
Despite his inexperience with humans, Malleus learns how to settle into your life well. Tonight, he’s even insisted on cooking for you. He’s been practicing for a while, so you’re intrigued to finally try what he’s prepared.
As he plates the food in front of you, the smell wafts until you’re practically drooling. You catch him with a self-satisfied smile from the corner of your eye, as he watches you feast on the food he’s made for you.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks.
“Yes, it’s very good, thank you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
Once the two of you finish your food, you take a seat beside one another on the couch. Malleus pulls out a small pouch. “I have something for you, my child of man.”
“A gift? You didn’t have to, Malleus.”
“I wished to. Now please, present me your hand.”
He takes your hand gently into his grip and straps on a stunning silver bracelet. It’s slim, but engraved with symbols, each segment a different kind.
“Thank you, Mal. I love it. Where did you get it, all the way out here?”
“I have had it in my possession for a very long time. Centuries, perhaps. It holds a protection spell from a strong mage. It will protect you, as you once protected me.”
You don’t know what to say, so you turn to hug him instead. You throw your arms around Malleus, squeezing him. It takes no longer than a moment for him to squeeze back.
It’s an hour later, once you’re in the middle of a game of chess, that Malleus speaks while moving his pawn.
“Do children of man desire life mates? I’ve observed, you live all by your lonesome.”
“A partner? Yeah, but not many options living out here.” You move your knight.
“Surely, there are some you might consider.” He moves another pawn.
“Nah, I’m not interested in Leona like that.”
“I did not mean the wolf. Someone a bit closer to yourself. Perhaps in this very room.”
“If you want to say something, you should say it. Humans prefer that.”
“Duly noted. Child of man, I desire to be your mate.”
-
The next time Leona comes to drop off your exchange of goods, he enters without announcing himself and accidentally gets an eyeful of you and Malleus making out on your couch.
“Leona! Knock much?!”
“Hello, Kingscholar.”
“Draconia.”
You shift your eyes between the two of them. It’s not exactly tense, but there seems to be no love lost between them.
Leona turns back to you. “So, you’re shacking up with him now?” His face scrunches up. “Do I need to prepare myself for little hybrid brats running around here sometime soon?”
“Says you, Mister I-forgot-to-mention-I’m-a-werewolf.”
Leona snickers. “I didn’t forget, I just didn’t feel like telling you. Humans can be annoying about those kinds of things.” He glances back to Malleus at your side. “Guess I didn’t have to worry about that, huh?”
“They are more kind than most humans, to be sure.”
“Right, and you’re not just saying that because you’ve been scr-”
“Leona!” you cut him off. “Thank you for bringing the meat. Your veggies and herbs are on the counter in the brown bag.”
He grabs his things and heads out the door, pausing to drop one last cheeky comment: “I guess if I hear you screaming, I shouldn’t worry this time. Maybe just for your legs.”
Malleus chuckles. “I will be gentle.”
“Hey, don’t enable him!”
-
A/N: Inspired by Hozier’s “It Will Come Back” !!!
don’t let me in with no intention to keep me / jesus christ, don’t be kind to me / honey, don’t feed me, it will come back ~
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fuckincrow · 6 months
Text
Olfactophilia
summary: You're dating Homelander and he's horny for your scent, pretty much porn without plot. AFAB reader, gender neutral.
warnings: homelander is a warning on his own, dubcon, scent kink, somnophilia, homelander is a pervert, dry humping, oral (fem receiving), established relationship, canon homelander behaviour
┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈
Homelander was not a good partner. One could hardly call him a boyfriend, whatever your endeavor with him was did not seem like a normal relationship. It was scary, you were scared of him, knowing he was at the verge of a homicidal tantrum on most days. And despite this, the only times you had witnessed his anger had been directed at others. A fellow supe, an unlucky intern, maybe Ashley. Mostly Ashley, you always thought that woman deserved a raise. But his feelings toward you were... different. It wasn't a normal kind of love, more of a dependency. You saw it in his eyes whenever you touched him, that slight shift of expression, the way his muscles tensed up and his breathing became ever so slightly faster. Maybe that was part of the allure, the fact you could render this monster useless with a few caresses and honeyed words. As long as he didn't realise how weak he actually was for you, you'd be fine.
You never liked sleeping in his penthouse, it was too much. The American memorabilia was almost comical, although you'd never commented on it, knowing it would probably upset him. It was hard to get in the mood when you felt George Washington staring at you, but Homelander's passion proved enough distraction. The sole reason you were in his bed was because he'd been extra needy lately, eventually you got tired of him showing up at your house unannounced, so you simply caved and temporarily moved to the Tower.
As you try to get some rest, you feel a cool breeze hit the back of your neck, followed by the silent pitter patter of his feet against the carpet, like a cat sneaking back home. He always took the window, he thought he was being stealthy when he flied in, but he always managed to wake you. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose. The next thing you feel was the warmth of his body against your back, the padded suit kind of uncomfortable against whatever skin your pyjamas left exposed, it was like he was glued to that thing. In fact, you had only seen him fully naked once or twice. Since you don't hear any greeting, you assume he thinks you're asleep, and so you did just that; go back to sleep.
★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★
You were so close, too close. He never could get enough of it. Homelander moves to rest his nose against your neck, sniffing your skin. You hadn't showered tonight, just how he liked it. His enhanced senses only made him get a bigger enjoyment out of your natural musk, specially in the summer, when sweat built up under your armpits, under your breasts, the bases of your feet. "(Name)?" He calls out in a soft voice, testing the waters. No answer. After a few moments, he slowly removes his gloves, carefully placing them on the night table. His hand sneaks on top of your waist, a fairly normal gesture, but it slowly travels upward. His fingers travel over your armpit, collecting some sweat. For a moment he just stares at his two fingers, his breathing growing a little heavier just from the knowledge of what he's done. Not out of shame, you're his to do whatever he wants with after all, but the fact this scent he loves so much now coated his own skin. Homelander brings the two digits to his nose, taking a good, long sniff, and breathing out in pleasure. He could already feel the bulge straining against his suit, painfully uncomfortable. "Fuck..." He muttered, now fully pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass, his face buried in your neck like he was trying to inhale every last pheromone you exuded, his hips pathetically humping you from behind. He couldn't care less if you woke up right now, surprisingly self aware of how messed up he was for grinding against you like a dog, but he couldn't stop. Your smell drove him insane. It was your fault for laying in his bed like that, without having showered.
Nearly two minutes of this went on before you stopped pretending to sleep. You had caught onto every little move, it wasn't like you were going to stop him. If he was going to get off on your sweat so be it, you wouldn't be the one to risk one of his temper tantrums against you. What you didn't like was how close he was to your core, inevitably making you wet from the friction, which slowly got quicker as his huffs got louder.
"John."
The mention of his name, his real name, made his blood run cold. Homelander stopped completely, as if stopping his movement now would somehow make you forget what had been going on since he arrived. You turned around to look at him, his face was equally flustered and shameless. You knew him enough that his embarrassment didn't come from a place of morals or a general idea of consent, it was purely because you saw him as he was; needy. Human.
You slowly shift to face him properly, his lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with puppy dog eyes, if you didn't know any better you could've said he was being gentle. Your hand rakes through his blond curls and he nearly melts at the action, his breath briefly hitching when you tug down on them. The action is a command, one he understands immediately, and without the need for words he removes the sheets from your body and lowers your pyjama bottoms along with your underwear down to your ankles, his eagerness practically tears them apart (it wouldn't be the first time).
Homelander lived for moments like this one, the sight of your cunt in front of his face, the smell of your wetness invading his nostrils. For a moment he's left a little starstruck, running his fingers slickly up your hole, letting your fluid act as lubricant as he caresses your clit. The contact earns a little whimper from you, the sound making his stomach flip. He would've teased you for it, but he's not a patient man, and the moment he hears that little sound he's pressing his entire face against your mound, the death grip on your thighs keeping you fully spread. His tongue is fast, his nose hitting your clit whenever he moves, and slowly but surely your breaths become pants, whimpers and moans falling from your lips and only making him more eager. He doesn't bother hiding how he's rutting against the mattress, you believe he's doing it purely out of instinct. Your hips buck forward chasing friction, and a muffled groan from him sends perfect vibration up your core, tugging his hair in response.
You've orgasmed a few times and you're ready to ask him to stop now that you're satisfied when you hear a crack in his voice, followed by a long, drawn out moan and a shaky breath that follows suit. Your mind still a little foggy from the climax, you sit up to look at him. "John?" He simply looks up at you, panting a little, a warm and wet spot between his thighs. It takes you a moment to register the fact he's creamed his pants just from eating you out, and if you weren't this exhausted the thought alone would be enough to rile you up for round two.
"You're welcome." You say with a little grin, chuckling as he practically collapses against your chest, burying himself between your breasts and merely humming in response. Next time he'll just wake you.
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smusherina · 28 days
Text
yard work - chapter 13 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.
warning(s): derogatory slurs! several of them!
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 14
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It was Friday. The last day of school, the night of the talent show, and just a few days before Christmas. They'd be passing out the candy cane-grams. There'd be some assembly, probably.
Your leg jittered restlessly while you tried to focus on your bio paper. What kind of sadistic fuck assigned an essay on the last day before break? The biology teacher, apparently. He had a superiority complex, you were sure. Allergic to happiness.
Your mind kept drifting back to the photo album. Surely, Regina had it. You'd put it in her locker on Wednesday, so she'd have found it first thing Thursday morning. You hadn't dared to take a peek in her locker, afraid Gretchen would sniff you out again.
Something had clearly gone down between them. Gretchen didn't sit with them at lunch, instead opting for her boyfriend's clique. She didn't seem to fit in too well and Jason didn't seem too pleased to have her there. Karen and Regina sat by themselves, conversing casually.
Cady had been banished somewhere. You'd heard talk Aaron had dumped her. You knew Janis and Damien weren't talking to her after she turned her back on them. Since the whole Kälteen bar shebang and the subsequent smear campaign Regina had doled out, she hadn't been exactly welcome at any table. From what you understood, Gretchen and Cady were on speaking terms, but Karen and Gretchen weren't, but Cady and Karen were. It was all terribly confusing.
You had a table for yourself. Some of your old friends crowded the ones nearby, quite pointedly not sitting with you. You were no longer cool, it seemed. Easier to focus on your paper, you told yourself. The cafeteria was serving chilli today. The slop was slightly too watery and the meat was a mystery, but it'd do. You'd run out of food at home. You'd wanted a goddamn Christmas dinner and a good slab of ham got pricy. Couldn't rely on Mrs George for a feast this time around.
"Hey," Someone called near you. You looked up, surprised somebody was talking to you. A boy, more specifically a jock judging by the varsity jacket. "You good?"
"What?" Your brows furrowed. "Yeah?"
He smiled smarmily. "Cool."
And he walked away. You kept looking as he went, staring after his back. His buddies were looking your way, the same kinds of grins on their faces. That was odd. Didn't bode well.
It didn't take long for you to find out why. The period following lunch was when Damien would be visiting classrooms as Santa Claus, handing out candy canes.
He walked right up to you with a grin hidden under the fake Santa beard, wiggling his eyebrows all the while.
"The whole bag..." He drawled. "Impressive."
Confused, you peered into the sack. A couple dozen candy canes filled it, apparently all for you. You picked one out, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as well as the snickering of the boys in the back rows.
Dyke. The message was just one word. It was clearly assigned to you, your whole name displayed proudly. Your body went numb, hands holding the candy limply. There was no signature to show who they were from. People were staring at you. Damien had lingered awhile to see what'd been written to you. The grin behind his beard had turned into a shocked scowl.
"What... What do they say?" Cady, of all people, the nerve of her, asked. She was seated a few rows from you.
"Alright, Mr Leigh, thanks for-" Ms Norbury tried to intervene.
"Dyke." You read out loud. Then you pulled out another. "Lesbo." And another. "Carpet muncher." The boys had trouble holding in their laughs. Another. "Queer." There were others you didn't deign to read out loud. Freak. Pervert. Degenerate. Homo.
If not for a few people finding all this amusing, it would've been dead silent in the classroom.
"These were supposed to be checked before handing out." Ms Norbury strode up to you and promptly confiscated the candies. Her face was set, expression severe, as she regarded Damien sternly.
"I- that wasn't my job. I don't know how, how they would've..." You watched Damien try to put it together.
"Well, is it really offensive if it's true?" Dylan, if you remembered correctly, piped up. He was a sporty guy, decently popular but nothing special. Now, though, he might as well have been an A-lister with how utterly low you'd plummeted.
Murmurs spread out around you. Damien and Ms Norbury retreated to a corner of the classroom to figure out how in the hell this had happened. People were looking at you. Your skin was crawling. It couldn't be Janis who told. She was in the same boat as you and she didn't have the power to do something like this. To make the committee ignore hateful messages meant some strings had been pulled. The only other person that knew, that could realistically do this, was Regina.
You bit your lip, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Okay. You got the message. The album had been too much. This was a sign to stay away, to forget all the sentimentalities you'd had.
"Hey, calm down now, we'll figure this out- hey!" You didn't pause to listen to Ms Norbury when you booked it out of the stifling classroom. You couldn't bear to be there any longer.
You hid in the bathroom. Both hands held against your mouth so you wouldn't make a noise, you cried long and hard. Your breathing was choppy and laboured, and in no time at all your nose was blocked off entirely. Your eyes stung and your vision blurred.
The bell rang and pretty soon people came into the bathroom. You refused to get out, pretending to take the longest shit ever. It didn't take very long for the people coming in to discuss what had gone down in one of the junior calc classes.
It spread like wildfire. You were pretty sure the boys had nicked some of the candy canes from Ms Norbury since you could hear people reading the notes out loud, the rustling of the plastic covering.
"Who even is that?"
"Who cares? A total freak is what she is. Oh my gosh, Steph, do you think..."
"What?"
"Do you think she used the girls' bathroom? She's probably spread her diseases all over the seats! We're all gonna have gonorrhoea!"
You wanted to sink into the ground and never see daylight again. By the time the bell rang again, signalling the start of the next period, the rumours had inflated and grown disproportionately in severity.
Apparently, you were riddled with sexually transmitted diseases, preyed on freshmen and sold them hard drugs, behaved creepily in locker rooms, and had had a stint with Cady Heron while she was still with Aaron Samuels. You guessed that last one had to do with the time you'd dragged her into the janitor's closet to yell at her about the Kälteen bars.
In short, you were fucked. Your life was fucked. You'd hoped, so hoped, that even if you wouldn't get everything you wanted, you'd get some. You wouldn't get a high school girlfriend, wouldn't have slumber parties, wouldn't be normal. You wouldn't be Regina's friend. Fine. At least you could've had a quiet life, gone to community college and worked at the shop, had some buddies, and maybe lost your virginity one day. Not even that now. Not even a little bit of that. Your future in this town was just no longer there. You had nothing. You were nothing.
You skulked out of the bathroom once you were sure there'd be nobody in the halls. You got into your car and drove home. Just as you'd slumped down onto the couch, the house phone rang. Groaning, you went to answer. If it was your dad, missing it would mean there'd be hell to pay.
"Hello?" Your voice was croaky. It hurt to talk.
"Hi, sweetie! You don't sound too good." Mrs George's chirp greeted you. "I assume you had to leave school 'cause of that. I just happened to see you drive by. Rick got called to work last minute and Kylie's got tutoring till late. Come keep me company?"
"I'm not feeling too well, I'm sorry..." You said, holding the phone to your ear while your other arm wrapped around your body. You tried to breathe deep and not burst out crying, again. Your eyes felt swollen shut.
"Oh, I'll come by with some soup, then," She sounded so genuinely concerned.
You bit your lip. Tummy rumbling in its emptiness, you decided now would be as good of a time as any to bite the bullet.
"Actually, uh, if it's not too much to ask, and um- I-" You took in a shuddering breath. "You don't have to say yes, it's totally okay and I'm sorry if this is, like, too much-"
"Sweetpea, just ask." She chuckled.
"I don't have any food. Or, like, I have ingredients for Christmas 'cause I wanted to make dinner for myself, but I guess I forgot I have to eat before then too?" You tried to laugh, but the sound was strained. "Um, could you take me to the soup kitchen downtown?"
You could've driven yourself. You could've, in that you were capable of driving yourself, but with how your vision was impaired, how your body ached with loneliness, and how you weren't sure you wouldn't just impulsively drive into oncoming traffic, you doubted you would've survived the trip.
"No." She said bluntly. You flinched, feeling the refusal like a knife to the gut. "No, absolutely not. We are going grocery shopping and getting you food to last the rest of the damn year. I'm picking you up."
"Mrs George, I don't have money-"
"You shouldn't be spending your hard-earned money like that. Doesn't your dad send you enough to cover utilities?"
"He sends me grocery money. I gotta pay for gas and stuff on my own."
Mrs George's resounding silence spoke volumes of her opinion on that. "I'm coming to get you. I'm buying you groceries and then we're gonna meal prep. Okay?"
"Okay."
When Mrs George saw you, her determined attitude shifted to that of maternal worry. You fought hard not to break down, though all you really wanted to do was curl into her and cry your little heart out.
She drove you to Whole Foods, a place way out of your budget. But she insisted, so there was little you could do. She took you from aisle to aisle, prattling on and on, chatting about this and that. You listened mostly silently, humming here and there.
She picked out a lot of canned stuff, like beans and tomato purée. All that stuff was made to last forever, so you wouldn't always have to buy fresh ingredients. She bought all your favourite snacks, which she somehow remembered. When you commented on that, she just pointed at her temple with a knowing grin. Mothers never forget, she'd said.
Once you were all done, the cart was quite literally overflowing. The total nearly made your stomach drop out of your ass. Mrs Geoge simply flashed her black card and, without even a wince, paid the price. The receipt was, like, three feet long.
Carrying it all to her car was a daunting task, but a worker did come to help you. A young man, probably home from college, was all too eager to carry the bags for Mrs George.
The way he was blushing all the way up to his ears, the way she was amused by him but not receptive, made you think about what Regina had said months ago. You'd been on your way to her nail appointment and she'd gone on a tangent about how women died at menopause.
Mrs George was thriving. She was above it all. Her worth, or mortality, wasn't determined by the men around her. She'd been cheated on, continuously neglected by her husband, and put down by her teenage daughter, and still, she was beautiful. She existed independently.
In short, you were right and Regina was wrong. You saw things how they really were. She saw things tilted to the left, through a warped lens. The confirming of this brought you no comfort, she'd already ruined you and there was no redeeming herself after this, at least not for you.
"Phew, what a trip, right?" She nudged you with her elbow as she buckled her seatbelt.
You nodded along, voice still weak. You buckled in as well.
"I'll pick you up for the talent show." She said as she turned away from the parking lot. "Oooh, we should have a night in. Order some pizzas and slob around the couch. How's that sound?"
"I don't think I should go to the talent show."
"Oh, why's that?"
"Just... Something happened at school. I don't wanna go."
Mrs George frowned and glanced at you. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything. I still think you should come."
"Everybody hates me." You faced the window and crossed your arms. Very mature.
"I'm sure that's not true." She sighed. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but Regina's got something prepared for you. I think you should go see her at least."
Your face twisted in anger. "Something prepared for me- like she prepared something for me today? I don't fucking think so."
"Language." She said and you grumbled. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing. It's nothing." You rubbed your hands down your jeans. "It's not gonna be good. She's gonna humiliate me."
"It's supposed to be a surprise, but I can guarantee that she's not going to humiliate you."
"What do you know?" You turned to her with narrowed eyes.
"I've been hearing her practice, is all." She responded, tone much too light.
You studied her face carefully. "Fine."
She smiled, seemingly relieved. Then, as if to cut the tension in the car, said:
"Oh, and by the way, I'm filing for divorce." With a giddy smile on her face, she blurted it out. You just stared for a while, almost suffering whiplash from the sudden change in topic.
"Uh... Finally." You laughed a little as you said that.
"Yeah!" She laughed with you. "It's been a long time coming. I just needed to sort some things out. Emotionally and financially. I had to get rid of some investments so I wouldn't have to pay alimony."
Your jaw dropped. The Georges were, like, filthy rich. Rich beyond reason, excess income to a ridiculous degree. You'd always assumed it was Mr George's money. How archaic of you.
"I... I kinda wished you'd done it sooner." You looked forward again. She was driving carefully since the snow made the roads prone to ice.
"Me too. The girls... They... I thought that having two parents would be the most stable, safe environment for them. I was wrong."
"Yeah." You swallowed. "Um. Since we're, like, just saying things. I'm, by the way, gay. Like, a lesbian."
"That's wonderful, honey!"
"Yeah." You couldn't say you agreed.
"Should we go get you a haircut?"
"I don't need to look any more butch than I do."
"I don't know, I think you'd look dashing." She feigned light-hearted. "Regina might like it."
"Mrs George!"
Notes: More drama! Yay! Do y'all think Regina did it?
Taglist posted separately. Please comment on the taglist post to be added on there :)
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luna0713hunter · 8 months
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I'd die for you
Zoro Roronoa x reader
Summary : when Zoro is injured by Hawk Eyes,you cant help but to worry about him.
Warnings : none really, basically hurt/comfort,mentions of injuries and fear of losing the person you love aka Zoro, bickering couple
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
"Wow," Sanji breaths, "Just,wow..."
You let out a whine and hide your face in your hands.
"Sanjiiii," you take hold of the cook's sleeve and shake him as hard as you can (which isnt much), "what should i do?! there's no way Zoro would actually like this!!!"
"I dont know," the blonde takes a spoonful of the soup you've made,which was oddly....black, "that blockhead should be thrilled that you put so much effort in making this for him!!"
You sniff,watching as Sanji swallows and school his expression,but not before his face paling slightly, "it just...has a little too much salt. And pepper...and.." when his eyes land on your defeated expression,Sanji smiles brightly again but it seems a little forced "and its absolutely delicious!!!i cant see how he cant possibly love this!"
"you're just saying that to make me feel better. You dont have to pretend,Sanji."
The cook gives you a charming smile and starts cleaning the kitchen, "if a man can't appreciate his woman cooking for him,then he doesn't deserve to taste it. So,y/n," he turns around from washing the dishes and smiles warmly at you, "don't be nervous. And remember you can always learn from your mistakes."
You smile back,and take hold of the bowl and walk our of the kitchen;a small skip to your steps.
"I'm going!!"
"Good luck with him!"
You giggle as you try to rush to where Zoro is; resting in his bedroom after you specifically asked him to rest.
It hasn't been long since he got injured by Hawk Eyes, and as much as he didnt want to admit those scars needed time to fully heal. And with him running around and fighting everyone in sight,it wasnt easy to actually make him rest. So after a small argument with him and some help from Sanji,you managed to cook something for him. The cook had mentioned that the herbs in the soup would heal him faster,but judging from how dark the food looked like,you may or may have not overcooked it. Only a little.
As you reach his room, you take a steady breath to calm yourself before knocking gently on the door.
"If its about your damn cooking or personal space again,i couldn't care less Sanji."
"Zoro,its me."
When the other side goes silent,you cant help but to roll your eyes playfully and grin. Sanji and Zoro couldn't get along for the life them and it never ceases to amuse you.
"...come in."
You take another breath as you finally open the door.
Zoro is,to your delight, actually resting on his hammock. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares at you when you walk through the door. The room is mostly dark,since he has a habit of drawing the curtains whenever Sanji is not around to nag at him. Your eyes momentarily traces the shape of the bandages under his shirt,before clearing your throat and moving to his side.
"i hope you're hungry. Sanji helped me cook this for you."
Zoro eyes the bowl in your hands,but doesn't move from where he's laying
"its not poisoned,is it?"
"i was cooking,what do you think?"
Zoro purse his lips and doesn't reply. You visibly gape at him and stump your foot angrily
"I'm not that bad at cooking!!"
"i didnt even say anything."
"your face says all i need to know!!" You huff and turn around, "maybe i should just give this to Luffy! I'm sure he would appreciate it,unlike someone."
You dont even have time to take another step before there are arms around your waist,not hard that you spill the soup,but enough to stop you from leaving.
"...give it here."
You dont turn around,but your lips twitch; Zoro could never say no to you.
"And why would i?"
"...cause I'm hungry and it smells...really good."
And when you finally turn around,you lift an eyebrow unamused.
"was that pause really necessary?"
"just give me the damn bowl."
You try really hard to hide your teasing grin,but judging from the scowl Zoro's wearing, you're not very successful at it.
You wait impatiently as Zoro blows the soup (which is totally unnecessary since its already lukewarm) and swallows a spoonful. You fidget with your fingers, tilting your head to side and looking at the man in front of you nervously.
"so?how is it?"
Zoro takes a moment before looking up at you.
"it's the best soup I've ever had."
There's a moment of silence where you just stare at the man in front you. He looks serious;no sign of his teasing grin or eye rolls. And when he sees you not responding,he just goes back to eating your black, burned soup.
Your eyes water and you try to muffle your sob.
At the sound, Zoro's head immediately snaps up,his eyes widening when they land on your crumbled form. He jumps to his feet and takes hold of your shoulders,caresses your cheek and wipes the tears away so gently that it has you crying harder.
"hey,hey. why are you crying?"
You shake your head and hide your face in his chest.
"i almost lost you Zoro..."
"but I'm-"
"you're not fine!!" You sob,and raise your face so you can watch his own twist into a frown as he watches your tears increase, "you almost died!! If it weren't for Zeff's help,you would've bled to death!i cant get the image of that sword slashing your chest out of my head!heck,i cant sleep without thinking of you dying in front of me Zoro!"
When you finally finish your little rant,your face is flushed and your breathing is uneven. Your mind wonders off to that cursed moment again,when a hand on your cheek pulls you back to your senses.
"breath," Zoro murmurs, "breath,babe. Its alright. Im fine;more than fine."
He rests his forehead against yours and puts your hand on his chest. Where you could feel his heart beating.
Alive and safe
"see?" He presses his lips to your heated skin and his hold on you tightens, "and, I'm getting so much better already with your magical soup."
At that,you let out a wet giggle and look up at him, sniffing, "really?"
"really."
And when he slowly steps back until he's laying on his hammock again,with your ear pressed against his beating heart,and the empty bowl of the soup on the floor;you feel your eyes slowly flutter shut.
"Sleep,love. I'll be right here when you wake up."
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propertyofwicked · 2 months
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heyyy!!!
could i request lando x reader angst with some fluff? where the reader is stressed with exams (exam season just started for me😰) and lando just helps her get through it and comforts her during the sleepless nights.
i absolutely love your work, especially the secrets series!🧡
exam szn is invading my personal space rn too i cannot think about it without wanting to cry hehe. hope this meets ur expectations and sorry it took so long to respond <3
warnings: none, just fluff :)
masterlist
TAKE A BREAK - LN
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y/n was always going to be the most beautiful woman that lando had ever seen, even now, as she sat slumped over her laptop, pen tucked into her bun and dark circles under her eyes, highlighted by the dull orange of her desk lamp in an otherwise dark room.
this was not a new situation for lando to find his girlfriend in - he’d seen her at her worst when she had been revising for her final exams years ago, whilst he was busy with his driving career. but this past week, he’d barely spent time with her, besides seeing her setting up her desk before he left in the morning, and eating a rushed dinner before she went straight back to studying. y/n was bound to crash soon, her body and mind overworked and over tired, but her resistance was strong. lando missed his girlfriend. yes, she was physically in the same apartment as him, but mentally she was so far away, completely unreachable to the outside world.
“hey,” he announced, leaning against the door frame. she mumbled a quick hello in response, not even looking away from the glowing screen in front of her.
“y/n?” he tried to get her attention again, still with a mumbled response. he pushed his body from where he was leaning, walking slowly over to rest on the back of her desk chair, his head lowering to press a kiss to the top of her head, “come to bed, angel.”
“i will in a minute,” she said, finally breaking her stare at her computer, leaning back to look at him. he finally got a good look at her face. she was still beautiful, but she was tired. she was pale, her eyes red from the strain and constant fight against exhaustion.
“no baby, you said that last night and crawled into bed 3 hours later.”
“i said i was sorry for waking you up,” she said sadly, her shoulders tensing, the shift to her posture causing her muscles to move for the first time in hours.
“i don’t care about you waking me up, i care about you clearly struggling. you need to take a break, angel,” he said, his tone harsh even when he tried to be as nice as possible.
“im fine, lan, i promise. ill come to bed in 10 minutes.”
“y/n,” he warned, no longer caring about his tone, “when was the last time you showered?” he added, out of genuine concern, however she did not take it in that way.
“what? why? do i smell?” she asked, raising her arm to sniff herself, lando physically restrained himself from laughing. she didn’t smell, but her hair was slightly greasy, purely from the amount of times she ran her hands through her hair out of frustration, or kept her head propped up, using her arm as support.
“y/n,” he says, using her full name, “you are going to shut your computer down, have a shower, and then go to bed. you can keep studying tomorrow but tonight, i want to spend time with my girlfriend before i have to leave the country again.”
she was reluctant to oblige, but she knew she’d been neglecting him in favour of studying. she did this every time she had an important essay due, or upcoming exams - her brain became laser focused to the extent of forgetting to look after herself and those around her, the deadline approaching only adding to the pressure. she closed her laptop, and stood, stretching her legs out in the process, not realising they had gone numb from sitting down for hours.
lando took to standing behind her, hands on her waist as he guided her into their bathroom. as he switched on the light, her eyes squeezed shut and a groan fell from her lips at the shock of the brightness.
“has that light always been so fucking bright?” she groaned, as lando laughed quietly, moving around her to set the shower up.
“that’s what happens when you sit in a dark hole for hours angel. when was the last time you left that room,” he asked, his hand under the water testing the temperature.
“erm, when we had dinner?”
“babe that was 6 hours ago,” he replied with a sigh, checking the time on his watch, “the showers warm enough now. get in. i’ll be in the other room.”
“you’re not showering with me?” she asked sadly. his eyes perked up at the thought of spending intimate time with her.
5 minutes later, they were both stood under the water, his hands massaging shampoo on her scalp. the warm water has loosened her muscles, and the feeling of lando’s hands on her bringing her back to a full sense of reality. she turned to face him, looking in his eyes as the water cleared the shampoo from her hair.
“im sorry,” she told him.
“you don’t need to be, angel. i just wish you’d take better care of yourself. i hate seeing you like this.”
“i know i just..” she said, before taking a deep breath, “i just need to pass this exam and then i’ll be back to normal, i promise.”
“y/n, you are the most intelligent person i know. there is no way you need to destroy yourself for the sake of an exam,” he replied, his hands moving to cup her jaw. she hoped the shower would mask the tears welling in her eyes. she couldn’t tell if the tears were from the kind hearted words or from the sheer stress she’d been bottling up. either way, lando could read her like a book.
he lowered his head, pulling her face closer to his, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and each cheek, and then moving to press a short but sweet his to her lips.
“i just don’t want to mess this up,” she said through tears, “ive worked so hard to get to where i am right now, i can’t afford a set back. i can’t mess this up, and i can’t think about correlation coefficients any longer without wanting to rip my hair out.”
“and you won’t mess it up,” he replies, choosing to ignore the words he doesn’t understand, marvelling at her ignorance to her own intelligence, “taking a break every now and again, looking after yourself, is not going to set you back or destroy your progress. you can’t keep going like this - the stress and the way you overwork yourself is going to set you back further than taking the evening off will, angel.”
“i just need to pas-”
“no, you need to take a step back. give yourself a break.”
“i know, i jus-”
“stop arguing with me or i’ll throw that damn laptop out of the window,” he said, interrupting her and crossing his arms over his chest.
“please don’t, i can’t afford a new one,” she joked, and lando smiled at hearing her laughing for the first time in weeks.
“i’ll buy you a new one,” he replied, pressing another kiss to her lips, “right, turn around i need to do the conditioner now.”
lando didn’t let y/n move another finger all night. he had wrapped her in a towel and sat her down on the toilet lid whilst he brought her in a cup of tea. he helped her climb into her pyjamas, and then sat her down between his legs as he dried her hair. they had crawled into bed afterwards, his arms reaching out to pull her to lay on his chest.
“thank you,” she mumbled against his neck, her eyes already closed out of exhaustion.
“don’t thank me,” he replied, tilting his head to kiss her forehead, “just promise me you’ll start taking care of yourself.”
“i promise,” she said, raising her pinky finger to interlock with his.
“tomorrow, you start taking an hour break for every two hours of work you do. and please, go outside, get some fresh air,” he said, pleading with her.
“half an hour,” she debated with him.
“an hour. end of,” he said, his decision final, “or, that laptop really is going.”
“you would never,” she replied, jokingly gasping at him.
“you wanna bet?”
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queenimmadolla · 2 years
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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ─ 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝟖𝟕'
(young parents!Eddie Munson x fem!reader)
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more dad!eddie and penny adventures can be found on my masterlist
summary: . . you leave eddie to watch your newborn with some ‘help’ (they don’t really do anything) from jonathan and argyle.
a/n: everyone lives in Hawkins because i said so. as always, no beta so mistakes will be fixed later. 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
* . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * .
“Dude.”  Argyle leaned in for a closer look, staring deeply into the unimpressed, brown eyes peering up at him from her place in her bouncer, tiny fists curled near her head, fuzzy with dark curls. “You had a baby.” Eddie snickered while Jonathan shook his head in amusement. “Yeah, I know that, man.” “No—you don’t get it, man! Like, you had a baby. You’re a dad. She is composed of half of your DNA. The fruit of your looms!” Jonathan choked on the cold pizza he’d been scarfing down at that bit of Argyle’s rant. “She’s—Oh, she got your eyes, too.”  Argyle ended on a coo, a finger reaching down to run over her soft, chubby cheek. From the moment you and Eddie brought Penny home three weeks ago, you’d been attached to her. Utterly and completely obsessed with the perfect little being your body had spent months creating. While you’d been initially incredibly hesitant to meet her—coherently, at least, she’d been placed on your chest briefly when you’d been having a horrible out of body experience from the pain of having just pushed her out seconds before—it was hard for you to put her down now. You blamed that newborn baby smell. It was your weakness, if she was cradled against you, your head was angled down to sniff at her hair. You loved bonding with her in general, but your mother had made sure Eddie knew to not let you withdraw from society once Penny came, and then she’d told Eddie all about Postpartum Depression, effectively scaring the shit out of him. So that’s how you ended up having a girl’s day with Nancy, Eden and Robin. Sure, you’d started crying after showering your little baby in kisses and love and you’d had to be literally dragged out by the girls but Eddie knew you’d have a good time.
Just like he knew he could totally handle Penny on his own. Jonathan and Argyle had come along with the girls, but both were entirely too curious about Penny to leave. Not at all because Eddie had body blocked the door once they realized their ride was driving off. Alright, he was still scarred from day two out of the hospital.  Max and Lucas had come over to the trailer to visit Penny—Lucas loved holding her, you found it so cute—when you had gone to change Penny’s diaper and immediately began crying out for help. Eddie had never bolted so fast in his entire life with Max and Lucas on his heels, and the sight that greeted them was horrifying in a new parent sort of way. Penny had shit so violently once you’d undone her diaper that it was splattered on the wall, she was peeing all over your hands, and she’d thrown up, the milky looking substance also leaking out of her little nostrils. She herself didn’t look at all phased by what she’d just done. So, yeah. Maybe he needed a little back up for now. “Who’s got beautiful, angel eyes? Who’s got beautiful angel eyes? You do! You do!” Eddie watched Argyle gently tap her little nose, and his heart warmed when he could see his baby smiling around her pacifier. He knew it was probably just gas since she was starting to learn how to use her face, but he liked to imagine she knew just how much everyone loved her; that she’d never have to feel like he did growing up, unloved and alone until Uncle Wayne had stepped in when his father had been arrested and he had no one else. His kid had family. And a damn good one at that. “You can pick her up, if you want.” “Whoa.” Jonathan warned. “Hey now.” Argyle took a physical step back from the newborn, eyeing her skeptically. “And risk dropping her—man, that’s not cool.”
“You won’t drop her, so long as you hold onto her. Kind of common knowledge, but simply don’t let go.” Eddie rolled his eyes, stretching forward from the couch to slip his finger into her tiny little hand. She gripped onto it immediately, and he leaned closer to give it a kiss, inhaling the scent of her skin. He couldn’t blame you for sniffing her all the time—she did smell ridiculously good.
“Fine, man. Then you get her out of that chair thingy, ‘cause I don’t wanna hurt her or something. I’m used to Eden’s siblings, they’re like uh a little older by like a lot and stupid invincible. One of her brothers came down the driveway on his bike just when I pulled up and I hit him with my car. Little dude just got right back up, kicked me and left!”  Eddie’s eyes were wide as saucers as he carefully pulled Penny out of her bouncer—the three of them collectively awing in adoration when her lower half scrunched up on instinct as she brought her hands to the sides of her head— and stood up in front of Jonathan. “You get first dibs since you don’t currently have a likely hood of hitting my daughter with a car at some point in her life.”  Jonathan immediately looked like he wanted to runaway, but ended up hesitantly accepting Penny into the crook of his arms as Eddie handed her over. It had been a while since he last held a baby, the last having been Will and he’d been a kid then, too.
He took to it naturally, though, his body relaxing as he held up her hand, thumb rubbing gently over her soft palm. Her squishy little fingers wrapped over his thumb as she stared up at him, most likely curious about a face she’d seen a couple of times before, but not so often this close. Or maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. 
“She’s so. . . small.” That wasn’t what he meant, he’d meant she looked so innocent, so fragile to the world around her. She wasn’t even his kid, but the longer he held her, the more sure he became of the fact that he’d kick ass to keep her safe, something he didn’t do very often, but very effectively. “I’m an uncle.” Eddie smirked, filled with pride as his daughter won another skeptic over. Jonathan ran a hand over her head, mindful of her soft spot, in awe of how soft her hair was. Damn, she really was cute. And she did have Eddie’s eyes.  “She’s a pretty baby.” He commented, moving his thumb around in her hold. “Not gonna lie, I thought she’d you know, be a little ugly when she came out, what with having been squished through a hole, but no. She was even a pretty newborn.” Eddie admitted, he hadn’t seen a whole lot of newborn babies before Penny, but he knew they looked like little aliens fresh out the womb. “You and baby mama must have been some pretty cute looking babies, then. Any kids Eden and I have are screwed, man. I was hairy as hell and I’ve seen her baby pictures, let’s just say they’re gonna get double takes.” Argyle ranted, but he too was focused on Penny and Jonathan, looking a little envious. Once Jonathan got his fair share, he shifted her around in his hold, making sure to support her head as he transferred her into Argyle’s ready and waiting arms. He seemed to change his tune after witnessing Jonathan hold her and successfully not throw her across the room like a football.
Unlike Jonathan who hadn’t wanted to move her around too much in his grasp, Argyle sat her up right, making sure to support her head at Eddie’s prompting. Penny looked startled as her body tried to slump forward, stopped by Argyle’s hold on her. The pacifier stopped moving, and Eddie tensed, waiting for the cry but it never came. Instead, the pacifier began to move again and she let out a soft grunt, but she didn’t seem to mind all that much.
He relaxed, sinking into the couch on Jonathan’s other side. Argyle noticed her drooping lids and deciding to be brave, placed her back into her bouncer as gently as he’d seen Eddie handle her.
Eddie couldn’t help but grin down at her, taken with the way they’d drop completely only to shoot back up. He was reminded of all the late night conversations the two of you had, and how you always fought sleep off, keen on talking to him instead of sleeping. Your eyelids would get all droopy, you’d close your eyes, and then catch yourself, snapping up and briefly awake before doing it all over again.  Eddie wondered how many more memories of you looking at Penny would trigger for him. He couldn’t wait to figure it out.  As if she knew he was thinking about her, Penny’s gaze wandered to him and he locked eyes with a pair identical to his own. Then she forced her pacifier out of her mouth and began to wail something fierce.  They all jumped up immediately, eyes wide at the sudden drop in her mood. “What did I do? Was it something I said?” Argyle asked, blaming himself as he began to panic. Jonathan was running his hands through his hair, distressed.  “No, you didn’t do anything,” Eddie reassured him as he picked Penny back up and walked to the small kitchen, grabbing a bottle from a recent feeding attempt. “You hungry, little bitty pretty one?” He held the bottle to her lips but that only seemed to make her angrier as she struggled against it, head moving away from the nipple. Her face was all squished up and took on a darker tint as her wails died down to whimpers. Eddie knew what that meant.  He was quick to place the bottle back down, but the damage was done. Penny was silent for the briefest of moments before she began shrieking. Water started to pull in the inner corners of her eyes—a new development, up until two days ago, all she could do was cry but her body hadn’t produced tears yet—and she let her little lungs ring loud in the trailer. Eddie knew his neighbors were probably cursing up a storm but they could kick buckets for all he cared. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. That’s not what you wanted, was it? My poor girl. Daddy’s gonna make it right.” Eddie soothed, cradling her to his chest with one hand holding the back of her head.  It seemed to do some good, hearing his voice had stopped the piercing shrieks, but she was still crying and very loudly.  He pulled her little baby bottoms back to check her diaper, but it was still clean so she couldn’t be upset about that. Eddie sighed, raising her a little higher on his chest so he could nuzzle her, pressing kisses into her sweet smelling hair.
Then it hit him. Penny was tired. That was it. She was just tired but unable to fully slip into blissful slumber on her own and she was upset about it. Eddie wanted to beat his head against the fridge for having overlooked something so obvious. He reached down to turn the knob of the radio, bringing it to life before he began searching for a station. Once he’d stumbled upon one crooning out oldies, he swayed, patting her bottom to further soothe her.
Penny’s cries died down almost immediately, turning into soft grunts instead as her lids began to droop again. It was after Eddie started singing along, his voice low and soft, that she was finally able to fall asleep, snuggled up to her daddy with a fist full of his hair that was most definitely going to be super fun getting out of her grip without waking her. Eddie turned to find Jonathan and Argyle watching them. Jonathan had a ghost of a smile on his face while Argyle stared at him in wonder. “Dude. You’re a dad. You just did a dad thing!” Jonathan grinned. “I agree. Looks like I’m the only freak in town now, you’re Eddie ‘The Dad’ Munson, now.” “Hell yeah, I’ll take it.” Eddie didn’t bother trying to hide his smile, he was cheesing’ it up.  You’d called him something similar a couple of times. Teased him about being Eddie ‘The DILF’ Munson, which was really unfair given you hadn’t been cleared by your doctor to have sex yet, so he couldn’t make that a reality.  “It’s crazy how this time last year, we were freshly graduated, you were eloping against every single adults’ opinion and now you have a baby. It’s mind boggling. But like, at the same time it’s not. . .I don’t know, help me out here.” Argyle slapped the back of his hand against Jonathan’s shoulder a few times.
“Being a dad suits you. You’re good at it. You’re a good dad and a good family man.” Jonathan supplied, meaning every word. He’d know, he had a shitty dad like Eddie did.
 That one simple statement hit Eddie hard, and he held Penny just a little tighter to his chest. “Gotta give her everything I didn’t have.” — You nearly broke the door down when you’d gotten back to the trailer. Despite your hesitance to leave Penny, you’d actually enjoyed the time with your friends. Sure, you spent every single second you weren’t talking thinking about your little family, but you still had fun.  The car ride back was spent wondering how much of a mess the place would be. Robin was expecting there to be a small kitchen fire, Eden was expecting one of the boys to be crying, Nancy was just curious to see how Jonathan had lasted in the presence of a baby. For future after college and established careers purposes, of course. You had faith in Eddie, had seen how quickly he had and still was adapting to being a dad. The others you couldn’t ball park so your money was on Argyle being the crybaby to which Eden quickly agreed.
But you hadn’t come home to any of that. The boys were all sat on the couch, fawning over your baby who had woken up in much better mood. “My baby!” You made grabby hands as they got up to greet you, and Eddie let you scoop her up from his arms in exchange for a kiss. You could hear Robin gagging when she realized she was third wheeling three different couples, so you assumed Nancy and Eden were also receiving ‘welcome back’ smooches.  You leaned down to violently inhale Penny’s new baby smell, pulling back with a look of satisfaction on your face. “That’s the good stuff. How’d it go?” Eddie laughed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and trailed a finger through Penny’s curls. “Oh, you know. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
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stuffeddeer · 2 months
Text
Washing dishes is Dazai's favorite activity.
If you asked Kunikida, he'd say Dazai loves wasting time. Atsushi would say something more intellectual, like maybe he enjoys crosswords. Drinking would be Yosano's guess, since Dazai does it quite often, and Tanizaki would mention all the girls that call looking for him. Maybe petting the stray cats by the building, Kyoka would offer, and Kenji would agree excitedly with the notion — since he enjoys it, too. But none of them could guess what he really loves to do.
Ranpo knows Dazai loves doing the dishes with you. He'll unwrap his bandages more and more confidently each day, waiting as the sink fills with lukewarm water and soapy bubbles. You'll stand by his side happily, a dishrag in hand you'd forced him to buy long before you moved in.
The two of you would work without talking for a bit, Dazai scrubbing away whatever grime was left on plates while you dried off his hard work. The feeling of the water in his bare arms brought him peace, knowing the soapy bubbles covered his scars, but you also never commented when he'd pull them up and out of the comforting submerged space to hand you a plate. You'd hum beside him, the notes of whatever latest pop song got stuck in your head while at work today filling the small space between you two.
Dazai would knock his shoulder into yours playfully, grinning down at you softly as he passed over another dish. He loved when you'd almost drop a glass into the sink when taking it from him, face burning and eyes wide as you make an adorable startled noise. The humming tended to stop then, as you'd focus all your energy on not dropping anything else.
That's when the conversation would start. Dazai would ask for work drama, and you'd happily oblige. From intimate humming to workplace gossip, Dazai loved all of your sounds. If he could record these moments to keep forever, they'd become his white noise as he slept in your arms.
"Your fingers must be pruny. Do you want to switch jobs?"
You were always so considerate of him. He'd pat down his hands and forearms and you'd gently help him wrap his bandages back up, making sure not to let your gaze linger. Sometimes Dazai would lean over and sniff your hair as you worked, smelling your shampoo and nearly swooning. You'd pat his arm once gently to let him know you were done before turning to the few remaining dishes. He'd always leave the harder ones for you; bigger pots and pans and whatever the fuck a colander was. "It's just a big bowl! It even drains on its own," you'd huff, but never complain more than that.
Just as cute as ever, you'd wash them without complaint as he smiled victoriously. You both knew what he was doing, but even the "harder objects" were simple so you didn't mind. It'd be Dazai's turn to talk as he'd tease you for being so gullible. He'd mention his day, complaining about Kunikida's reports that he so graciously took over (which were Dazai's reports, actually) and how scary and nearly disastrous his meeting with a random dog was that he had passed by on the way home — a dog that was leashed and following beside its owner obediently.
The way home to you, to this vulnerable moment you both shared in the quiet of his apartment. He loved how focused you'd get on scrubbing away the grime, allowing him pause to stare at you and admire your dedication. How beautiful can one person be? And the way you'd get all flustered when you turn to hand him a dish to dry only to see him basking in your ethereal visage always caused him to grin.
He'd pepper your face with kisses, his now dried hands grabbing your soaked ones to pull you away from the kitchen and to the couch. You'd whine and complain, saying you only had a few dishes left, but you never tried to pull from his grasp while dutifully following suit. Dazai loves to cradle you close to him, forgetting about whatever worries him for a few moments.
Dazai loves doing the dishes.
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