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rustedhearts · 1 month

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just friends (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: you and steve have been just friends for years now. but how long can you convince everyone you're 'just friends' before it becomes a lie? or steve harrington is your super hot roommate and everyone thinks it's stupid you guys aren't dating yet.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the library

tags: roommate!steve, kinda shitty boyfriend!eddie, pining, fluff, angst, casual dominance from our casual dominance king steve, honestly going to try so hard not to make this a series but you know me.

a/n: i've wanted to write roommate!steve for so ages. you can thank a much-needed new girl binge and my tendency to take my frustration out on my mop for this.

The bass-heavy bump of music came at Steve full force before he even stepped out of the elevator. He paused, staring down the door of your shared apartment knowing that the sight that would welcome him would not be pretty.

In the kitchen, you were hunched over the handle of a mop, furiously dragging it over a sliver of tile. Teeth gritted together, face flushed and damp with sweat, hair disheveled and pulled away from your face, a pair of cotton shorts and an old t-shirt rolled up to the shoulders—you were a mess.

You were sad.

"Uh-oh." Steve stepped into the room, calling over the booming music. "What happened?"

You jumped a little, accustomed to the quiet of the apartment on Saturday nights. Steve almost always spent weekend nights at the bar down the street hitting on girls too sweet for him. You usually had until at least 11:30 to do whatever you wanted before some random girl came scampering in, clinging to Steve and giggling as they fumbled to his room.

But he was home early. And no matter how long you'd lived together, or how well he knew you, you still hated being seen like this.

So, you never took your eyes off the mop, scrubbing away a sauce stain on the tile.

"Nothing." You shrugged, flicking wisps of hair out of your eyes.

Steve watched you whirl around to drag the mop toward the bucket again. You stabbed it into the soapy water with a vengeance, nose scrunching with every slosh and splash. Steve leaned against the doorway and quirked a brow.

"Yeah? You're playing your sad music, though."

Your sad music consisted of a handful of hard rock records that most people would consider music for a dive bar—but you only ever played it when you were staving off tears. The louder you played it, the more upset you were.

Steve knew you a little too well.

This comment went ignored as you slapped the mop back on the floor and continued an angered scrubbing. Steve sighed, scratching at his temple. Most of the time, it was best to leave you alone. Sometimes, you needed to talk it out. It took a little coaxing—a pizza and a cold glass of Coke with a straw usually did the trick—but eventually, you'd spill.

And Steve would fix it.

Calm you down, help you figure it out, offer some advice. He gave pretty good advice for someone still struggling to get his own shit figured out.

Steve could tell from the way the song went unsung, the way you huffed every time the mop head flipped, the way you started stomping your foot when you found a stale French fry under the stove—you needed him to step in.

Pushing off the wall, Steve crossed the room and placed his hand over yours on the mop handle.

"Hey. Hey, come on."

You struggled at first, scowling at him as you tugged on the handle. "Stop it."

He sighed again. He was always sighing at you like a disappointed teacher.

"Hey." A little firmer this time, accompanied by a sharp snatch of the handle from your grasp into his. When you dropped your hands and obliged, the furrow of his brow relaxed. "Thank you. Now, why don't you go take a shower. The house is clean enough."

You frowned, wiping at the sweat on your head. "I just—"

Steve pressed his hand flat into the small of your back, steering you toward the door. "Seriously, honey, it's fine. You do stink, though."

That made your lip twitch—a semblance of a smile—with an amused little huff. You took a step toward the door, slippered feet scuffing. You looked over your shoulder toward Steve standing where you left him, still holding the mop.

He waved you off. "Go on. Take a nap, too.”

You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Steve."

He watched you shuffle away, shoulders slumped and eyes down as you went. He propped the mop against the kitchen counter and shook his head at the mess of cleaning supplies on the table.

When he heard the bathroom door clamp shut and the hiss of the shower head turn on, Steve rushed the front door again.

He opened it a smidge, enough to fit his head in and smile sweetly at the girl waiting in the hall picking at her nails. She perked up, stepping toward the door eagerly.

"Hey," Steve cooed, voice dripping with honey. "I'm so sorry, my roommate got sick all over. I think s-he needs to go to the doctor, so...would you mind if we raincheck?"

The girl—Sarah, as he would recall later on—broke into a concerned pout, clasping her hands over her chest. "Oh my god, that's terrible! You're so sweet taking care of him."

Steve chuckled, a breezy smile on his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for understanding."

She tipped her head, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. "Of course. Call me when he's feeling better?"

Steve nodded, knowing the phone number in his back pocket would dissolve in the washer in a week, and he had no intention of ever calling her to begin with.

"Yeah, for sure. Night."

"Goodnight."

He waited until the elevator dinged, watching the doors close on her grinning face, before pulling back into the apartment and locking the door. He blew a sigh out of his cheeks, head shaking as he headed toward the hall.

The shower had stopped, and he could hear the soft, wet patters of your feet behind the door when he leaned against the wall beside it. He knocked two knuckles gently into the wood.

"Honey?" he called. "Need anything? Wanna order a pizza?"

He waited, adjusting the hem of his shirt to spread out a wrinkle in the fabric. He knew what the answer would be, but he couldn't always be so obvious. He had to pretend that he didn't know you like the back of his hand, because everyone started telling him how weird it was.

"You've lived with this girl for two years and haven't boned? You're either gay or dumb as a box of fuckin' rocks," is what Max told him when they met for lunch a few months ago.

Everyone said the same thing. His sister, who teased him at birthday parties and summer barbecues that you were always his date for. Sabrina did everything in her power to push the two of you closer together at family events, ensuring your seats were always paired and your activities were always coupled up.

"You look at her like a dog with a bone," she teased last Fourth of July.

But Steve only shook his head, glancing your way where you were helping his mother decorate cupcakes. You were dating some guy in IT at the time. Total fucking nerd. He made you pay for most of the dates.

"Nah...we're just friends. She's got a boyfriend."

We're just friends was probably Steve's most popular sentence in the English language since the day he met you. A pair of college graduates who had no clue what the hell they were supposed to do with their lives, roommate-matched by the apartment complex and so content with each other that you just kept renewing the lease.

When you finally replied to his question, your voice came like a small, pipping whisper behind the door. "Yeah...but with mushrooms this time?"

This time, as if you didn't order a mushroom and sausage pizza every time. Steve smiled, pushing off the wall.

"Okay—"

"And—"

"And sausage, I know. I'll call 'em."

"Okay."

While Steve called the pizza place a few blocks over, you clutched a towel to your chest and padded to your room. You pulled on the softest items you owned and sat on the end of your bed. A long day of cleaning certainly tired you out, but that wasn't what ailed you.

It was the fight with your boyfriend last night at the bar, when he yelled at you for laughing at Steve's jokes even though you always did. He thought you were too close, too "chummy" to be just friends.

Unbeknownst to Steve, we're just friends was one of your most common phrases, too. You should've had it engraved on your forehead at this point.

"Hey." Two knuckles on your door this time before it skittered open. Steve popped his head in and grinned at you. "Wearin' my favorite sweatpants? Must be feelin' better."

You glanced down at the black sweatpants on your legs, snickering softly. Steve thought they hugged your ass perfectly, and loved the way they flared at the calves. The logo right on your left ass cheek was especially beautiful.

When you opted to leave that soft noise as your reply, Steve stepped into the room. He flopped beside you on the bed, springs squeaking shrilly.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.

You shook your head down at your lap, rubbing at your eye. You hated crying, and so far today you'd been doing well swallowing them down. Steve had only seen you cry once, and you avoided him for three days after.

Something about vulnerability made you cower.

"Okay...wanna watch a movie?"

You sighed, shifting a little away from him. Steve clocked it with a brow-furrowed frown.

"Steve...you don't have to make me feel better. I'm fine."

His lips parted to reply—most likely in protest—but the door chittered on its hinges once more with the small butted head of your tuxedo cat, Ted.

Steve immediately stood and scooped Ted up, turning to bring him to the bed. He scratched under his chin and brought forth a low humming purr immediately.

Not even cats could resist that pretty boy charm.

"Well, I reckon this lil guy will do a better job of cheerin' you up," Steve cooed, plopping Ted beside you.

A quiet giggle slipped from your mouth as you reached to swoop his tail. "Reckon?"

Steve shrugged, a sheepish grin on his mouth. "Just came out. I turn Southern in a crisis, darlin'."

He was just trying to make you laugh now, and he couldn't help but mirror the sound when it proved effective. Though, it also proved temporary. You soon settled on your side, tugging Ted to your chest with a fading smile.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, gathering a chunk of it at the top to pull. A stress tick. You tried not to feel guilty for causing it.

"Well...alright." Steve shuffled backward toward the door. "Pizza in fifteen."

You nodded into the pillow. "Okay. Thanks."

Steve lingered a beat too long, eyeing your balled up form on the bed before slipping into the hall. You'd been sad plenty times over the years: breakups, let-downs, missed jobs.

But the guy you were dating now...you really seemed to like him. He was over all the time, practically living here at one point. Steve didn't really understand what you saw in the guy—Eddie. Steve scoffed to himself, head shaking. Stupid name.

You met Eddie at the auto shop where he worked. He gave you a discount on your oil change, and his tire talk was so smooth that you went on a date two days later. Six months later, and things still seemed to be going smoothly despite the pair of you having very little in common.

Usually, you dated harmless little nerdy guys. Steve actually laughed in the face of a five foot eight finance bro who threatened to "hurt him real bad" if he got in the way of your relationship. You dumped him that night, and the pair of you still laugh about it to this day.

But Eddie was...different. Sleeves of dark ink and a chainlink on his belt. A handful of chunky silver rings and another one in his nose. He always clinked in with a nod Steve's way and a hand on your ass, and it seemed that every time he kissed you in front of Steve, he looked him right in the eye while he did it.

Steve didn't like how small you made yourself around Eddie, and he didn't like how much Eddie seemed to enjoy it.

For everyone's sake, he hoped it wasn't Eddie that made you sad. For once, he wasn't sure he'd win that fight.

✶ ✶

There were many things about your behavior that night that concerned Steve.

Number 1: You only ate three pieces of pizza, and he got one small mushroom-sausage with extra cheese just for you.

Number 2: You didn't let Ted in when he scratched at your door, and Steve had to bring him to his own room for bed.

But worst of all.

Number 3: You didn't say goodnight.

So, Steve went to bed with Ted curled at his feet and a lump in his throat. Whatever you were upset about was bad, he could just tell; and everything in him was itching to make it better. He had this terrible, stupid ache to make life easy for you, and it never really went away.

He opened all your jars, refilled all your water bottles, made sure your phone was charged when he saw the little red bar. He bought more of your favorite snacks when he saw them running low, picked up things that "felt like you" when he saw them at the store. You had an abundance of miscellaneous yellow items sitting on your windowsill because you told him it was your favorite color two years ago.

In Steve's eyes, everything yellow in the world belonged to you.

Steve stirred in a half sleep for hours, kicking at his covers and offering murmured apologies to a miffed Ted who meowed at him. His concerns, however, came to a head when the sound of muffled shouting startled him completely awake.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and tapped the screen, rubbing his eyes clear to read the 1:15. He wondered which couple in the building was fighting this late. His bet was on Jax and Monica in 1F who were always on the outs.

"You think I'm a fuckin' idiot? I see the way he looks at you!"

But that was Eddie's voice.

"I don't understand where this is coming from."

And that was yours.

Steve shot up, fumbling for his glasses in their case somewhere in his nightstand drawer. He shoved them over his eyes, swinging his legs over the bed.

"I'm tired of competing with your fucking roommate."

"You don't—you aren't! Eddie, please, you know we're just friends."

"Spare me. You're a shitty liar. Hey! C'mere, I'm not done talkin'."

Oh, hell no. Pants abandoned, Steve swung his door open with banging force and rushed into the hall.

He found the pair of you in the entryway, Eddie's hand around your arm and your cheeks soaked with tears. You still had your pajamas on, and those little yellow slippers Steve bought for you last Christmas.

Both heads turned when Steve hurried into the room, tailed by a confused Ted butting at his leg.

Eddie huffed, motioning toward Steve. "Oh, great, of course you're here."

Steve braced his hands on his hips, glaring at the raven-haired man. "I live here, dick-wad. Remove your hand."

Eddie ignored him, still wringing your arm out. You cast your eyes away from Steve, ashamed by the state he found you in.

"You live up my girlfriend's ass, Harrington. And I'm kinda tired of you being there all the fucking time."

"Remove. Your. Hand."

"Stop," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your cheeks though it wouldn't do much to hide the pink rims of your eyes. "Eddie, he's my friend."

"If he's gonna be your friend, then we're done."

You gaped up at him, more hot tears bubbling over and stinging your eyes. "W-what? Eddie, that's—"

Eddie shrugged, smug and uncaring. "You heard me."

Steve's eyes moved your way, and he could only stomach the absolute heartbreak on your face for a split second before he was stepping forward.

"Alright," he barked, and then he was shoving the arm Eddie was holding you with. "Let her go, Aerosmith, and get the fuck out."

Eddie let you go, but spun sharply to face Steve. You weren't sure whose glare was more frightening.

Eddie stepped until he was toe-to-toe with your roommate. "You like fuckin' another man's girl? You like my sloppy seconds, you pussy bit—"

Steve might not have been much of a fighter, certainly didn't fare well with a man who lifted cars for a living—but he certainly excelled at being discrete.

Which is how he got a right hook in before Eddie could fight back. Which is also how Eddie ended up on the ground, and unable to stand again for a few moments.

"Jesus, Steve," you scolded, peering down at your boyfriend with wide eyes. “You knocked him out!”

Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the buzzing pain in his knuckles as he swept them through his hair and motioned toward Eddie.

“Hm? Nah, honey, he’s just…he’s takin’ a nap.”

Though still numbed by shock and worry, you couldn’t help the amused snort that rippled through you. Steve’s lip quirked, and he glanced at Eddie when he groaned on the floor.

“Um, well…let’s get you up, bud. Yeah, you’re okay, c’mon.” Steve began talking to Eddie like a child, cooing as he helped him to his feet by the arm.

And maybe he wasn’t nice about walking him to the elevator, watching him crumble to the floor as the doors closed. Maybe the shiner swelling on Eddie’s cheek filled Steve with incredulous joy.

But he swallowed all of it down when he returned to the apartment and found you standing right where he left you. If you were ashamed of your tears this time, it didn’t show. You grew inconsolable, and Steve had no other thought in mind that didn’t involve picking you up and taking you back to bed.

So he did just that, letting you soak his bare chest with tears as he went. When he sat you on the bed, he tipped your head up by the chin and wiped your cheeks.

“He’s not comin’ back tonight, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Sniffling, you let him dry your tears and pull strands of hair from the sticky residue. “He thinks we were cheating. I t-tried to tell him…that we’re just friends.”

You deflated with a hiccuped sigh, and Steve’s smile was full of pity and pain. He rubbed his thumbs into your cheeks, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah. Just friends, honey.”

Your eyes fluttered with exhaustion, and Steve swallowed thickly. He pinched the edge of your pillow to pull it down, and gently coaxed you down by the shoulders. He pulled the covers up to your chin and plucked Ted from the ground to join you on the bed.

“He ain’t worth your tears, honey. Get some sleep.”

Sniffling again, you nodded quietly. Steve flashed another smile, and stepped back toward the door. As he reached for the light switch, he glanced over his shoulder to find your eyes again.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered.

He shut the light off so you wouldn’t see the way he closed his eyes, like it pained him to hear you with another cry in your throat.

“Goodnight, honey.”

Steve sat awake until 6 a.m waiting for Eddie to come to his senses and return for vengeance. But he never came. In some way, Steve knew that would hurt you even more.

So in the morning when you woke, he greeted you with a handful of sunshine yellow daffodils and your favorite coffee. A soft kiss on the head and a scratch at Ted’s chin on his way out.

“Gonna meet up with a friend today. Call me if you need me, ‘kay?”

He went home with the first girl he met at the bar that day just to get you out of his head, and lied about it when he came home.

Just friends. Yeah, right.

#rolly!#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington au #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #roommate!steve harrington

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

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THE ALCOTT - a. targaryen

You tell me your problems (Have I become one of your problems?)

Description: As Rhaenyra's oldest daughter — you were expected to marry for the gain of your mother's fraction. Aemond Targaryen sees you in Winterfell, your heart feels like jumping out of your chest.

When the snow falls and the white wind blows. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Winterfell was colder than you expected, as a lady far used to the warmth of a dragon — it blew your mind how northerners lived in never-ending snow. The guards were cautious of your dragon. He was known as the Cannibal, who preyed on every animal — even those of its own kin. At the same time, you couldn't help but notice their lack of fear, like they were used to seeing dragons this big. "My princess!" Cregan came quick to your side.

The sides of your lips turned upwards, heart heaving with joy at the sight of the man you trusted like a brother. The sight of him made you less worried about war. "My lord," you smiled while wrapping your arms around him, aware of the fact that you stink of dragon and ash. "My mother, the Queen Rhaenyra, extends her gratitude for offering Winterfell as a safe haven." you breathed a sigh of relief, as the dragonkeepers began to usher your dragon away to safety.

Losing the war was your biggest fear. There was no doubt in your mind that your uncle, Aegon the Usurper, will execute you if you ever decide to surrender. He takes a deep breath, carrying a heavy burden on his back. "It is not much of a safe haven as you believe." he stares at you from the side, his hand was placed upon the small of your back — leading you inside of his warm castle.

"What do you mean?" you asked, eyebrows bumping into each other. Winterfell and Kingslanding were your second home, the thought of either betraying you was stupid, yet the latter managed to do so. "Fellow northerns lords have spoken about your house falling from grace. The house of the dragon does not know who rules it —" he explains but you interrupt him in annoyance.

"My mother is the Queen, my uncles are mere usurpers who stand against the throne." you correct, nose scrunching in disbelief. Shame flooded your features. The house of the dragon does now know who rules it, but you do it was fire and blood — the same two that will consume the Hightowers with avarice. "Not everyone believes that." he retorts, you take your gloves off — freezing at the sight of ... Aemond Targaryen. Your uncle, whose aided your sorrows for seventeen years in Kingslanding. Has he come to murder you now?

"My lord, if you wish to offer your loyalties to the Usurper. You are free to do so — but attempting to ambush me?" you accuse, he places a hand on your shoulder, Cregan's eyes staring deep into your own. Your mother called him 'sweet-summer boy' for he was born in the longest summer. He was sweet and kind, but also cold and dangerous. There was no doubt in your mind that he would execute you in the name of the greater good.

"I am not here to hurt you, sister. He arrived here a fortnight ago, offering his hand for one of my cousins to marry but I declined him, because I know that his brother is an usurper who does not deserve the throne. Gods be good, if I allowed a drunken charlatan to ever become king." Cregan's eyes pierced into Aemond's soft skull. He takes a deep breath, eyes trailing away from the Prince he welcomed into his home. "But my council does not offer the same sentiments." he scratches his nose, eyes pulsing with rage. Cregan Stark was loyal to your mother.

"And you thought that it was appropriate to welcome him here? When I am set for a visit?" you questioned, playing with the dagger inside your pocket. You couldn't trust anyone, not the lord beside you nor the uncle who has been with you for seventeen years.

"I am not here for him, my niece. I am here for you?" he admits, breaking the thick wall of ice. His good eye stared at you, lips puckered and pink from the cold. The man that you loved was gone, there were only mere traces of him left. "Are you still mad because of your eye?" you question, taking on a stance for fight. You were well trained in warfare, equipped enough to take his only eye.

"I've long forgiven you, but my sister?" he chuckles for a few seconds, lips smirking at the thought of Rhaenyra. "But still, we are merciful — return home. We'll imprison your mother in Dragonstone, your brothers will be cupbearers and squires for the King. And you, my lovely niece, we'll find a match worthy." he offers, laying out the terms in a way that seemed appetizing.

You stared at him. Blinking, but not thinking.

"Which side are you on?" he finishes, taking a step forward. He was a few feet away, but you could see him perfectly. He had a neat stubble, his left-eyebrow had a thin horizontal line on the center. He has aged more in three-months than he has ever had in his entire life. "The last thing I want is to be on your side." you insult through gritted teeth, Cregan stares at the both of you back and forth.

"No harm will come to the both of you under my roof. My princess, I'm sure that you are tired of all the traveling, it is best to retire. And my prince, the finest wines need your tasting down the Great Hall." Cregan tilts his head to the other door, pulling you away before you could ever start a fight.

----

The owls were chirping outside of your window, nocturnal animals prowling at night for their next prey. He knocks on your door, body standing rigid in front of your window. "My princess," he whispers, trying his best not to awake Cregan whose room was parallel yours.

Your hands reach the door, hands twisting to open the door-knob. You trusted Cregan's promise of no harm coming to you. It was favorable, for you wouldn't be hurt but the same thing couldn't be promised to your uncle.You meet his eye.

A Lavender Lazuli eye that showed you spectrums of different colors. "Aemond," you answered with no respect. No respect is given to rebels. "Go home with me." he offered and you leaned on the door-frame. His voice was low, breath stinking of ale — his eye was downcast and filled with melancholia. He missed you, but you weren't sure of feeling the same with him.

"My home is in Dragonstone. It is where I was born." you replied curtly, lips pressing into a thin line. He placed a hand on the doorframe, stopping you from shutting the door on his face. "Your mother is not the rightful heir. A woman can't hold into power, not in our times." he rasped, earning an eye-roll from you.

You are Rhaenyra's heir. The Queen after her.

"Not in this world yes, but we have always been queer with our customs. In Valyria, women can rule without fight — are you not Valryian, dear uncle?" you taunt, playing at the thought of his Hightower blood. You were not the daughter of Harwin Strong. You were either of Laenor or Daemon's. But one thing was certain, Valyria flooded your veins more than it did to him.

"That is not what I mean." he breaths.

"We waste too much time in fighting this damn war! I'm losing you, qogralbar ziry" he cursed, fist bumping into the wall beside him. Fuck it. He thought about taking you, and marrying you. "You are losing me because of your pride. Your belief of women being incapable of ruling." you rolled your eyes, walking away from him — but he takes ahold of your forearm, pulling you back in front of him.

"I do not think that you are incapable of ruling, I merely believe that your mother should lay down her arms and accept my brother as king." he asserted, keeping his hands on you. "The first thing you desire, is the last thing I could ever dream of." you scoff, pushing him away from you.

By this point, you were both outside of your room — feet barely stepping over the line that divided your room and the hallway. "That is our problem!" he raised his voice slowly. You bite the inner corner of your lips, imagining his murder. "I am one of your problems, uncle." you reply taking a step backward, returning inside your room.

You were just about to close the door, but he collapses unto you — knocked out by the strong northern ale. "I want to forget you." he mumbles before closing his eyes.

taglist: @scarwicht@nyctophilic0vitnir@witch-of-letters

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joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 4 months

Note

Hi it’s me again (sorry if you’re getting annoyed by me)

I’m here to request bakugo x reader fluff maybe bakugo had a rough day and he gets home to see the reader and the reader cheers him up by play fighting

Maybe just a wedding where bakugo is way too excited to see the reader (reader is excited to) and class 1-A is trying there best to keep them separated (because of bad luck)

If not please feel free to ignore this you don’t have to do it but anyways stay healthy 😌

A/n: Hello pookie, you're not annoying me at all, you're my first request after all. And I'm always healthy 🤭🤭🤭

BAKUGO x READER - YOU ALWAYS CHEER ME UP

His muscles were aching so badly when he finally finished his shift. As he approached the front door of your shared house, he runs a hand through his hair and lets out a hefty sigh to release the stress that his day brought to him. He opens to the door to reveal you cooking in the kitchen with that cute apron he bought you on. You were dancing and humming along to a song that you knew too well.

He quietly drops his stuff by the door and takes off his shoes to tip-toe behind you and hug you from behind. Katsuki feels your body jump in shock from his touch.

"Katsuki, you scared me. Welcome back." Your other hand reaches up to his blonde locks and massages his hair.

"I'm almost done with the food, I made your favorite." He lifts his head up slightly to peer into the pot you were stirring.

"Kimchi Nabe?" He hums tiredly.

"That's right, Kimchi Nabe."

He stands straight, still keeping a hand on your waist and watches as you work. You pour two bowls of the spicy food and cover the pot with the lid nearby. You turn to face him and you see his face which makes your smile fade.

"Rough day?" He simply nods and doesn't face you.

"How about this? We eat and watch a movie and then find something fun to do afterward." His lip upturns slightly to show his delight as you grab both of the bowls and head into the living room.

During the movie, you could tell his mood was increasingly better. After the movie was over, you started trying to play-fight him, throwing punches that didn't even touch him.

"You would've been knocked out if that landed."

"I'm sure it would've Y/n."

He starts to do the same thing that you were doing, and then it turned to y'all wrestling on the floor. You straddled him, laughing and giggling with him.

"You want to go cuddle now, stink?"

"Yes please."

He picks you up and plants a kiss on your lips then your hair. Lots of cuddles and kisses happened in your shared room, he loves you too much lol.

#fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha x reader fluff #bnha x reader fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #requests are open #requests open #taking requests #request

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as abuse, gore, blood, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your marriage is marred in misery with no escape in sight... until he shows up at your door. (Part of the Illuminate AU)

Characters: Adam Warlock

Note: I hope ya'll like this one. I know it's a new and not so popular character.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The bin crashes down into the shrapnel of plastic and trash littered across the kitchen tile. Shane kicks an empty yogurt cup as you stare down in futility as the mess. If he didn't insist on the cheap bags, they would tear so easily but you're not stupid enough to say so.

"I work all fucking day and come home and you want me to take out the goddamn trash! Now look!"

You gulp, batting your eyes at him, paralysed in fear. You can't make your body move. You should grab a new bag and clean it all up, insist that he go sit down and you'll do the work. He doesn't give you a chance for all that as he lunges at you.

You step back on your heel with a squeak, caught around your neck as he spins and swings you around with him. He hooks a foot around yours, bringing you easily to your feet, bending you over the stinking potato skins as your arms shake. You fight to keep him from mashing your face into the garbage.

"And where's dinner? What am I supposed to eat? Maybe you should swallow this all up and you'll realise the sort of bullshit I gotta come home to," he snarls, "stupid fucking bitch."

“I’m s-sorry,” you croak, throat scraping as you try to swallow a sob, “I’ll… I’ll clean this up–”

“Damn right you will,” he barks and jerks you as he rips his grip from your neck, “useless…”

He kicks a plastic tray at you before he stomps off, leaving you to stare at the mess. You sit back on your heels, quivering, and exhale slowly. You shift and reach behind you, opening the cupboard under the sink to retrieve a new bag.

You peel it open and gather up the garbage, piece by piece, focusing on the task as you ignore the odor and the occasional moisture that smears on your hand. As you get it tied up, you stand, choking on your tears as they spill out unstemmed.

You sneak out the back door and carry the bag around the side of the house. You keep your chin down, hoping your neighbours don’t witness your despair. You come up to the gray bin and lift the lid, shoving the bag inside and letting it close with a thunk.

You grab the handles and wheel it away from the siding, the large container rattling as you force it along the uneven grass and onto the walkway. The wheels bounce on the cracks in the pavement and you stop to pull open the white picket fence, paint flaking away beneath your touch.

You continue on and guide the bin to the curb, letting it rest there as you sniffle and try to shake away the last of your weeping. You can’t go back inside like this. If he sees you crying, it will only make him angrier.

You look across the street at the other houses; they’re all nicer than the rundown rental you share with Shane. Where the leaves are strewn in a layered carpet across the mulch of your lawn, the others have the autumnal canopy neatly raked into piles. When you asked for him to grab the rake, his answer was especially bruising. So you’ll see if you can’t get to it tomorrow.

You sigh and turn on your heel, squeaking as you nearly collide with another. You didn’t hear or see the man approach. There was no shadow in his approach, no footsteps scuffing to warn you. You press yourself to the bin as you look up at him. Your chest compresses under some unseen force as the air is forced from your lungs.

You try to apologise for your carelessness but your lips can only form the singular stutter, ‘s-sorry’ as your voice is trapped in your breathless throat. You stare at the man. It’s almost as if he had been waiting for you to turn around.

The leather jacket, the patch sewn on the left-side of his chest, the cool confidence of his posture, they all assure you of who he is. Of the danger he carries with him. You blink up dumb, waving in front of your chest as you try to eke out a single noise, pleading with him not to be angry.

His pale blue eyes twinkle as his smiles, a soft crinkle beside his eyes as the dimming night limns his long face. If Shane saw you standing here with this man, of any, he would lose his mind. You have to get back inside. You have to get away from this stranger.

“No sorry,” he says, his voice rocky but not unkind, “I am in your way.”

He slowly steps aside, retreating as he goes to rest his hand on the post of the white picket gate. He waits expectantly, waving you within as his smooth, deliberate movements fill you with dread. There is a carelessness in him which betrays fearlessness. You will never know what it’s like to not be hounded by inexorable dread. It both irks you and scares you.

You make yourself move. You cross the sidewalk and enter through the open gate, as he looms over you. His gaze is hot on you, clinging and suffocating. Your heart hammers with adrenaline. If there is anyone you fear more than Shane, it is these men and their black leather shadows.

“Have a good night,” he says as he pulls the gate shut between you, “I hope whatever makes you sad does not keep you awake…”

You can breathe again. You gulp in air and fold your hands in front of you. You turn to the man and nearly gasp. There’s something eerie in how he lurks, in how he is both draped in shadow but shines among it.

“Good night,” is all you can get out.

“No moon,” he says as he draws his hand away from the wooden post, “it will be a good night for rest.”

He puts his hands in the deep pockets of his leather jacket. His breath fogs around him, billowing over his shoulders as he strides through it. You watch his silhouette as he departs, his footsteps make no noise and the night seems to close in around him until you can see him no longer.

You shudder and hug yourself as you back up. You turn, fighting a tugging that tries to keep you outside. You head back between the house and the fence as a chill creeps up your spine.

Your stomach pits as a sudden desolation overwhelms you. You feel hollow and heavy, as if you could collapse right there. You can’t, you have to make dinner. You won’t get much sleep if Shane goes hungry.

🌑

Shane leaves at the usual time. His shifts at the factory are your only escape. They don’t always feel like that as you spend the hours worrying about his return. About what mistake he’ll find when he gets home. So your time is spent still keeping him happy, though you’ve never managed that.

Along with the endless list of chores come those thoughts. Those regrets and questions of how it ended up like this. On when he started to hate you. On when you decided to accept that.

You pull on one of his flannel shirts and a pair of jeans. You dig out some gardening gloves from the shed and take the rake with you as you put your mind to clearing the lawn. The autumnal air is crisp but fresh. It’s almost refreshing.

You come out to the front of the house, starting at the walkway, clearing it of the leaves, brushing them onto the grass. From there, you drag the teeth of the rake away, pushing the growing pile towards the corner of the fence.

Sweat beads on your forehead and dampens beneath the layers of clothing. You huff out a thick hot breath into the cold air. The briskness sneaks down the back of your collar and chills you.

“The winter is close,” the statement startles you from your work.

You plant the rake and grip the handle, facing the figure outside the fence. It’s the same man. Your lips part but you can’t say a word.

“Can you feel it?” He asks.

Your jaw chatters. His eyes fall to your lips as you try to hide it. He steps forward and sets his hands on the points of the fence, leaning in.

“It’s colder when you are alone…” he says.

You furrow your brows and shake your head, “I am not…”

You look back at the house and he chuckles. You turn back to him and bring your other hand to the wooden rake handle. He considers the leaves on the ground with interest. He pushes himself straight. He seems taller than before.

“Are you not?” He asks cryptically. “This is a lot of work for only one.”

You shrug, unsure how to answer.

“I can help.”

Your mouth is dry and your tongue is sticky. You make yourself talk.

“I don’t know you…”

“Adam,” he says pointedly, “my name is Adam. Tell me your name, then we will know each other.”

You speak before you think. As if you didn’t have a choice. Even if reluctance needles at the back of your mind, knowing that Shane would not want you to speak to this man, your name tumbles out as if you owe it to the stranger. Adam.

“Beautiful,” he remarks as he nears the fence, reaching over to the clasp, “let me help.”

“N-no,” you drag the rake with you and catch the gate as he lifts the latch, “please–”

“You must rest,” he shows his palm in a strange gesture, sweeping it in front of you, “you are dizzy and feel unwell. You need to sit down.”

Silver stars speckle in your vision and you feel the world shift under your feet. You look down and clutch the rake tight, feeling as if you might fall over. You let go of the fence and take a step back as you touch your forehead.

“I am… lightheaded,” you admit, confused at how suddenly it come upon you.

He pushes the gate inward and enters. He shuts it with a gentle metal clink and grips the rake above your hand. You recoil, letting him have it as your limbs grow heavy. He leans the tool against the fence and turns to you again.

“Please,” he puts a hand on your arm, the contact filling your head with smoke, “sit down, bunny.” He ushers you to the front steps and helps you sit there. He braces your shoulders and bends over you, “you will not move until I bid.”

You look at him, confused but comforted by his touch. You nod. He pulls his hands away, caressing your cheek before he stands straight. You shiver and hug yourself.

He lingers as his zipper cuts in the air. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders and swings it around you, the smell of leather surrounding you. He tugs it snug around you and retreats. You can’t help put pull it tighter as another scent tickles your nose; him.

His boots mulch across the leaves and grass and he grabs the rake. He resumes your work, easily heaping up the clutter, the steady scrape of the tines easing you. You look up and watch him. He is unbothered by the cold despite the thin cotton of his black tee shirt. His muscles tauten beneath the fabric as he works.

You feel sleepy as the pale sky blurs around his stark figure. You’re hypnotised by his steady motions, his easy strength. A strand of his golden hair falls forward as he focuses on the ground, gathering up the leaves with diligent care. Your lashes cling to each other and your eyelids itch.

You hug the jacket closer and dip your nose behind the collar. The weight of fatigue settles over you and coaxes your eyes shut. The rake continues to scrape in your ears even as you sink down into oblivion.

🌒

You wake to blackness. Dark lines trim the corners of the room as slowly your vision lifts to a dull gray. The night stares in through the windows, frosted with the slow creep of winter. The wind howls and rattles the pane in the frame. The cold looms outside like a spectre but does not enter.

You are warmer. Too warm. Your body heat enshrines you beneath the quilt pulled to your chin. Despite your want to escape from the stolid cocoon, you do not move. A languid weight keeps you at peace despite your discomfort.

You’ve never felt like this, so calm. There’s a dull tapping at your skull that tells you to worry, to be afraid, but it’s quickly smothered and forgotten. Why should you be? You are home and safe in bed.

You let your eyes close and hum. You just want to sleep, to slip away and never wake up. You drift, mind skewing as if you’re floating on a tide. Then it swells and crashes over you with the dark growl that seeps in through the wall.

Your breath hitches and your lashes snap open. Your ears itch as you listen, trying to hear through the plaster. There are soft, muted murmurs but nothing discernible. You quiver as you hang in the limbo; do you stay or get up?

Slowly, you bring your hands up and pull the quilt away from your face, peeling it with effort past your chest. Cool air sweeps over you, urging you to nestle back beneath the patchwork. You hear it again, like a beast it grits deep through the air, gravelly and harsh.

Sitting up is difficult. That same dizziness blurs your mind. You squeeze your eyelids shut and bid away the echoing auras. When you look again, the world is steady. You stand without reaching for the lamp. You wade through the darkness like quicksand, each step impeded by unseen bounds.

At the door, you wait, hand on the knob, brass cold to the touch. You inhale and taste the air wafting in around the frame. It’s sharp and frigid.

You turn the knob and lift the door on its hinges. You peek down the hall, it’s dark but for the orange flicker glowing from down the hall. That house, the place you call home, the walls you could etch from memory, is suddenly strange and sinister.

You let go of the door and tiptoe out, the voices drawing you in. The conversation garbled in your fuzzy ears. It isn’t until you get closer that you can make out the words. That you recognise the familiar tones.

“What.. are you… waiting for?” Shane’s words are interspersed with moist gulps and groans.

A snicker, short and stony. There’s little humour in the laughter. Adam replies, “justice.”

“You…criminals are all the same,” Shane utters through laborious breaths, “bunch… freaks… like you… should leave… this town.”

“We own this town,” Adam says, “there would be nothing but dirt if it wasn’t for us freaks.”

A hork and the wet splat of spit on the floor jolts you. You stop just before the doorway, shuddering as you hesitate and look back down the hall. You can go back to bed and hide. If you do, you might wake up and realise it’s all just a rotten nightmare.

“Come on, bunny,” Adam calls to you.

You spin back, finding yourself still alone with only the lip of the wall between you and the flickering amber light. You put your hand on the plaster and your other on your chest. He cannot mean you.

“I hear you,” he says evenly, “we’ve been waiting for you.”

You put your foot out and slowly reveal yourself. You turn and face the room from the doorway. You see the single taper burning on the mantel and the tall shadow beside it. Adam lurks with his straight-shoulder but slack posture.

There is another, in one of the wooden chairs from the dining set, slumped and held up by knotted leather belts. You can see only the back of Shane’s oily black hair. You come forward, eager but terrified to see more of him.

His right eye is swollen shut, a cut weeping beneath, and his lips dribble blood down his chin. He leans forward, kept upright only by his bounds. His breathing is rickety and shallow. He looks at you with his left eye and grunts.

“...bitch…” he mutters under his breath, “slut…I always… knew…”

“Ah ah ah,” Adam tuts and makes himself taller. Shane flinches and swallows loudly, choking on his split and blood, “you mustn’t value your tongue very much.”

Adam reveals a long dagger, the orange glint of the candle reflecting off of it. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before. The metal is both dark and gleaming, a perfectly forged fuller down the middle of the blade.

You turn as you stand transfixed by the sight of your husband. Only then do you notice the scarlet leaking down the front of the wooden armrest, staining deep the veins of the wood. There are three fingers remaining on his right, and one less on his left hand. You cup your mouth behind your hand, catching a scream before it can erupt.

“Shhhhhh,” Adam hushes as he presses himself to your back, “I only had a sampling…”

“What have you done?” You whisper as you gape at the ruin of the man before you. His clothing is shredded so that it reveals the long gashes on his chest and the slices down his thighs. “Why…”

“The strong should protect the weak, not harm them,” he bends and nuzzles your hair, “but more, the weak are not helpless.”

“I don’t understand…” your eyes sting as Shane clenches his jaw and glares at you. How often you saw that same glimmer in him. That sheer hatred that made you wonder if he ever loved you.

“You understand,” Adam’s hand trails down your arm and he pulls you around. He presses the handle of the dagger against your palm and closes your fingers around it, “you know exactly what must be done.”

“Please, I can’t…” you whimper, “you… you hurt him. You’ve…” you look at Shane again, “how could you?”

“I could have cut his heart out by now,” Adam sneers, “but I do not own that.” He squeezes your hand, “it is not mine to take.”

“What…”

“I know what he does. He will not stop. Not until you are dead,” Adam insists as he raises the dagger, his hand still around yours, “or he is.”

He drags you towards Shane and aims the tip of the blade at the slouched man’s chest. He holds it there as you shake, whining as you try to free yourself. His strength is unbending and unbroken. He puts a hand on your back, gripping you tight as he keeps the dagger steady.

“I cannot free you, you must do it yourself…”

You close your eyes. This must be why the townsfolk whisper of the men in leather. Why they scatter at the sight of them. Murderers! Monsters!

“Please–”

“He has made you weak,” Adam purrs into your hair, “I have come to make you strong.”

“No–”

“Yes, you must,” he growls along the rim of your ear, “remember all he has inflicted on you. The names he’s put upon you; bitch, slut, useless, nothing…” he hisses as his hand crawls up to your neck, “how he broke your nose on your wedding night.”

Your heart races, pounding in your ribs. How could he know that?

“How he put your hand on the lit burner when you forgot to buy milk,” he continues, your shaky grasp tightening as your tears crest and fall free.

“Or how just the other day, he would have rubbed your nose in garbage like an incontinent mutt–”

“Stop!” You cry out, “stop! How do you know–”

“I know a beast when I see one,” Adam turns his head, his cheek against your temple, “I know a rabid one should be put down before it can maul again.”

“But… but… I love him,” you sniffle.

“Do you?” He lets his hand fall away from yours but you don’t rescind your reach, you don’t move the dagger away from Shane, “does he love you?”

You know he does not. He never did. You were only ever the stupid girl who fell for him. You realised too late what he really was and now you were trapped for life.

You would be miserable with him until the day you died. Not because he loves you, but because he loves to hurt you.

The tip sinks through the flesh without resistance. You're stunned as you do not stop yourself from letting it further, from pushing it through the layers of fat and muscles, leaning into it until you can’t force it any deeper. You watch the steel bury into him as blood spurts out around your hand and sprays up your sleeve.

Shane does not scream. He cannot as you pierce his heart. His head falls forward and his body goes limp. You keep a hold of the hilt and jerk it as try to wrench it even deeper.

Your hand is slick with his blood and slips off. You raise a fist instead and hit his lifeless shoulder. You hit him again on the head, another strike to his stomach, and a kick for good measure.

You bring your hands up and look at your blood stained hand, your other palm streaked with flecks of his death. You heave and try to scream but you cannot. You collapse to your knees and keel over onto your elbows.

You should cry but you cannot. Your tears evaporate as grief eludes you. It should hurt. Why doesn’t it hurt? You’re not sad, but you’re not happy. No, you are free.

The floorboards creak and you raise your head as Adam kneels beside you. He touches your chin as his other arm slings around you. He pulls you to him and presses his lips to your temple.

“They will find him,” he caresses your cheek as he speaks, “but they cannot take you if you are with me.”

“Take me?” You ask dumbly.

“They will call you murderer, they will lock you up,” he coos, “I will keep you safe, bunny.” He dips his hand back down and nudges your chin up. He looks down at you, eyes shining silver in the candlelight, “I will keep you happy.”

#adam warlock #dark adam warlock #dark!adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #illuminate #au #werewolf au #series #marvel #mcu

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katelynnwrites · 1 year

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If You Ever Wanna Fall In Love, If You Ever Wanna Bet On Us, If You Ever Wanna Be My One (I’ll Be Waiting) | Ona Batlle

warnings: so much fluff

word count: 2068

summary: the story of how you fell in love with ona and how ona fell in love with you

chosen song: i’ll be waiting by cian ducrot

a/n: bonus chapter 5 of you were bigger than the whole sky (you were more than just a short time)

Ona seems nervous as she leads the way to her house, which is a short walk from the bus stop.

You had never been there before but when Ona invited you over for lunch, there was no way you were going to say no.

You had only known the brunette for two weeks but you had quickly learnt that it was almost impossible for you to say no to her. Plus you would never miss an opportunity to spend more time with her.

The twelve year old defender’s very good at making you laugh and you feel entirely comfortable with her. You like her.

‘We’re here.’ Ona softly says.

Ona’s house is a nice one and as she opens the door, you realise that it’s homey and obviously well lived in.

It makes sense that Ona would live here because her house feels warm and welcoming, exactly like how Ona feels to you.

‘It’s lovely Oni.’ You genuinely tell her.

Ona practically beams, ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you to my mother.’

Ona takes your hand in hers and guides you to her kitchen, where her mother is making tapas.

She greets you with a warm smile and immediately says, ‘Hi. You must be the friend my daughter is always talking about.’

‘Mama.’ Ona protests, her cheeks flushing.

Even the tips of her ears are red and you laugh.

‘Hola Mrs Batlle.’

‘Hola. And none of that Mrs Batlle nonsense please, it makes me feel old. You can call me Mama or Mami, whichever you prefer because I have a feeling that Ona here, will be bringing you around a lot.’

By then, Ona’s as red as a tomato and she disappears from the kitchen, mumbling something about setting the table.

Ona’s mother laughs, before looking you up and down.

‘You need some feeding. Look how skinny you are, don’t your parents feed you? Come on, sit down and eat this.’

She hands you a plate of food, practically shooing you out into the dining room.

******

You don’t say anything, simply sitting down next to your fourteen year old girlfriend and taking her hand in yours. (even at fourteen, she has a tendency of getting too far into her own head).

You squeeze it tightly and Ona inhales sharply.

Leaning closer to her, you murmur, ‘Onita I know you’re blaming yourself for that own goal. I’m not going to tell you to stop because I know you better than that. But I just want you to remind you that you are an amazingly talented defender and that no one else is blaming you. It’s only halftime and we still have another forty five minutes to make a difference.’

It’s a small stolen moment in the crowded locker room where your coach is giving a loud halftime speech. The air stinks of sweat and it couldn’t be a less romantic moment but it’s the one where Ona realises she’s in love with you.

******

‘Hola Mami. Is Ona home?’ You say as you walk into the kitchen of Ona’s home.

Ona’s mother greets you with a tight hug.

‘Sí. I think she’s having a nap.’

You laugh. Fifteen year old Ona had recently discovered that naps after training sessions are a good idea.

‘She’ll probably be asleep for a few more hours so sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.’

You begin to protest her generosity but she gives you a knowing look.

‘You only went home to shower after practice didn’t you? You haven’t eaten yet.’

Ona’s mother takes your silence as an answer and she starts taking out leftovers from the fridge so that she can warm them up for you.

‘Thanks Mami.’

‘You’re welcome.’ She hums and kisses your forehead maternally.

******

When you’re done eating, you wash your plate despite Ona’s mom telling you that you didn’t have to.

Then you head up to your girlfriend’s room.

The brunette is all wrapped up in her comforter, clutching her stuffed cheetah close.

You giggle softly, walking over and pressing a kiss onto her cheek.

Ona doesn’t even stir so you pull the comforter back slightly and slip in behind her.

Her twin bed is cramped with the both of you in it but it lets you be closer to her so you have no complaints.

Gently, you drape an arm around her waist and settle yourself down for a nap.

******

Ona wakes to find you curled into her and she smiles.

‘I don’t know when you got here but I love that you’re here.’

She happily runs her fingers through your hair, adjusting herself so that she’s able to tuck your head under her chin. The defender easily puts her stuffed cheetah aside in favour of holding you.

Ona is looking at you with complete adoration when her mother quietly knocks on her door before opening it.

‘Oh you two are so cute.’

Ona grins, ‘I don’t know about me but mi novia is plenty cute.’

Ona’s mother laughs.

‘Well do you know if she’s staying for dinner?’

The brunette thinks for a moment and then nods, ‘Probably. She said her parents won’t be home until late and I’ll feel better if she ate with us instead of alone at her house.’

‘Okay.’

The older Spaniard makes to leave but pauses.

‘Ona?’

‘Yes Mama?’

‘You look at her like she’s your whole world. When are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?’

‘Mama!’ Ona starts but as her mother raises an eyebrow, she sighs.

She looks at you for a moment before looking back up at her mother.

The fullback keeps her voice soft, not wanting to wake you, ‘Not yet. I can’t tell her yet. We’ve only been dating less than a year and I don’t want to scare her off.’

Ona’s mother chuckles, ‘Have you seen the way she looks at you? Ona, she’s completely in love with you too.’

The brunette blushes and whispers, ‘I hope so. I really do.’

******

After you and Ona exchange your first I love yous, it’s like Ona can’t stop (and you hope she never does).

You may have admitted your love for her first but she is just (if not more) eager to make sure that you know she loves you too.

She tells you she loves you every chance she gets and your heart never fails to skip a beat whenever she does so.

‘I love you.’ She says now, pressing a little kiss to the skin just below your ear.

You shiver and she repeats the action, whispering another soft, tender, ‘I love you.’

Aitana gags, ‘You guys, not here!’

******

‘You came!’

Ona leans up on her tiptoes so that she can kiss you. She had sprinted right over to the stands as soon as the whistle had blown, not bothering to celebrate the important win with the rest of the Barcelona B team. (she celebrates with you before she turns to her family, much later but her parents aren’t mad, knowing how much you mean to her. her mother is in fact too busy taking photos of the both of you to even think about it).

‘Of course I did.’ You whisper, smiling at the sight of your sweaty sixteen year old girlfriend who had just played a brilliant ninety minutes.

Ona gently pushes you back to make some space so that she can climb over the barrier.

She does and she’s extra cautious not to accidentally bump into you, not wanting to hurt you any further.

Your persistent foot injury had been keeping you from playing and that had been getting you down recently.

Ona had been trying her best to comfort you but she felt like the fact that she had been playing regularly while you weren’t was making you upset.

The brunette carefully kisses you again and you frown.

‘Oni why are you holding me like I’m going to disappear?’

Ona’s hands squeeze your waist and she hugs you, being mindful of the walking boot you had on again.

‘I-I didn’t think you were going to come.’ She admits.

She hadn’t dared to text you prior to the game, not wanting to rub salt into your obviously painful wound.

Her words leave you confused but you answer her anyway, ‘Why wouldn’t I come Ona? This is a big game for you and if I can’t be on the field with you, I want to be your WAG. I’m here to support you and our teammates. Mostly you though.’

You lower your voice to a whisper for the last sentence, a teasing smile tugging on your lips.

‘I didn’t think I could love you more. But I do. I love you so much.’ Ona earnestly says.

‘Well I love you so much too.’ You promise, hugging your girlfriend tightly.

‘Never doubt that you are important to me mi amor. I’m always going to support you.’

The brunette sniffles, pushing her face into your neck and placing a short kiss there.

That is the first moment Ona realises she’s going to love you for the rest of her life.

******

Sitting up, you happen to glance at the clock on your bedroom wall.

‘Ona? It’s six already!’

Ona looks up from her textbooks, her eyes wide as she realises you’re right.

‘Joder.’

Hurriedly, she starts putting her school work back into her bag and you help her collect all her things to make sure she hasn’t forgotten anything.

‘Gracias mi amor.’ Ona pecks your cheek quickly, rushing out of your room.

She was supposed to have left your house at five forty five because her grandparents were coming over for a family dinner but obviously she had not been keeping track of time.

You laugh, just thinking about the flustered expression on your seventeen year old girlfriend’s face as you straighten the covers on your bed.

Making your way to your front door, you lock it. Through the little window, you can see that it’s started raining.

You’ve just taken out your phone to text Ona, to wish her a safe trip home when there’s a series of loud knocks on your door.

You check the peephole and are startled to see your completely drenched girlfriend on the other side.

Opening the door, you begin, ‘Ona hey-’

She presses her lips to yours before you finish your sentence.

When she pulls away, she tenderly tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

‘Bye.’ She breathes.

Ona takes a step back into the rain, her nearly waist length hair plastered to the sides of her face.

‘Onita what?’ You shake your head in confusion, a little smile gracing your face as you look at the soaked brunette.

Ona shrugs lightly, ‘I forgot to give you your goodbye kiss. I love you mi amor but I’ve really got to go. I am so late. Bye!’

Your girlfriend blows you a kiss before running back up the street to the bus stop.

Giggling, you watch her till she’s out of sight.

It occurs to you as you go back inside, that for the rest of your life, she’s the one you’re going to be in love with.

******

The rest of the world finds out that the two of you are in love with each other when Manchester United uploads their newest The Tour View vlog.

Both of your social medias frequently feature each other and neither of you are afraid to let the fans know how much you love each other. If a curious fan were to scroll down, they would see that from the very beginning of the two of you’s Instagram presence, there were posts about each other.

During the three, almost four year break, Ona had not taken down any of your posts together. You had but right after you and Ona got back together, you’d unarchived all of them.

But it’s that one YouTube video that blows up.

In the short clip filmed by Millie during the flight, you’ve got your head resting on Ona’s shoulder as you sleep.

Millie zooms in on the both of you with the camera and Ona can be seen gently pressing a kiss onto the side of your head.

When Ona mouths an ‘I love you’ to further convey her affection, the English woman can be heard saying, ‘And over there we have United’s one and only couple. Look how disgustingly in love they are.’

Spanish Translations:

hola - hello

sí - yes

mi novia - my girlfriend

joder - fuck

gracias mi amor - thanks my love

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trashmouth-milkshake · 8 months

Note

Can I pls have Rhea Ripley x Fem reader x Dominik Mysterio where they are hanging out at dom's house and the power goes out (for the whole night) and it leads to them confessing their feelings for each other and some fluffy smut? Also glad you enjoyed your request from me! 🥺

Confession In The Dark - Rhea Ripley x Fem! Reader x Dominik Mysterio

Summary: The power goes out for a long time during your hanging at Dominik's house and this whole situation leads you guys to confess your feelings for each other.

Warnings: fluff, mention of smut and burping.

A/N: Hi, dear! Of course! I don't have much knowledge about fluffy smut, but I tried to include only the mention and no kinks because I read in your guidelines you don't write any kink and I though you would be uncomfortable. Hope this is fine, if not, do not hesitate to let me know. Also, sorry I'm late, but I had a writer block.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Rey, Angie and Aalyah were out for a family dinner without that 'pain in the ass' of Dominik.

"That's so rude of them!" You thought once he told you on the phone as he called you and Rhea over to have some beer and watch a movie together.

You and Rhea have lived in the same apartment for three years now and you both agreed to enjoy Dom as you though he could be hurt from being called a pain in the ass by his parents and sister earlier.

Rhea drove at Dom's place. He welcomed you inside before to welcome you in his blanket and pillows fort. "Isn't that a little... childish?" Rhea raised an eyebrow at the amount of blankets and pillows held up by the chairs of the dining table.

You punched her arm with your elbow. "Be nice!" Rhea let out an ouch, rubbing the spot you punched. "Okay, okay."

Dominik pulled out three beers from the fridge and the pizza he ordered earlier and that was delivered before you and Rhea arrived.

You spent the first hour chilling in the fort, eating pizza and drink iced beer. Suddenly Rhea burped so loud like her soul left her body or the devil coming out of her.

"Rhea, wtf?!" You said as you covered your nose as it stinked. It smelled like the salami on the pizza she ate before chugging her beer. Dominik laughed, slapping his hand on his knee, almost dying due his own laughing.

"Oh my God, she had fucking demons inside!" He was losing his breathe until a thunder could be heard from outside and the three of you guys were wrapped in darkness. For your luck, Dominik had a wireless light in the fort.

"Fuck- That was a loud one." Rhea cursed. "Just know I'm too afraid to go and fix it." Dominik shaked his head.

"Fuck you, Dom." Rhea crossed her arms to her chest. "Well, I feel like this is kinda... Romantic, don't you think?" You tried to make it sound less worst than it was before Rhea and Dominik could get into a fight.

"Speaking of fuck-" Rhea shutted his mouth, covering it with her palm before he could finish his inappropriate sentence and ruin the surprise, making you uncomfortable. "We both actually have something to confess to you, Y/n."

You gasped. "What a coincidence. I have a confession as well." You admited.

Their eyes widened. "You do?" You nodded to confirm, before starting with your confession first.

"These days we spent together, I figured out I developed some kinda of feelings for you guys." You face heated up after you spoke.

"Y/n..." Rhea started, uncovering Dom's mouth. "We hope we don't ruin this moment, but..." He continued. "We figured out we have feelings for you, too."

Once you guys were all done with your confession, your eyes locked, an awkward exchange of romantic look made your faces heat up even more.

"This is kinda awkward..." Dom broke that little silence. "But do you think we could already take our relationship to the next level?"

You smiled, giving them a nod to consent.

You won't easily forget the face of the other members of the Mysterio family when they came back home earlier than you guys though and the fort was already filled with your guys' moans and whimpering.

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe x fem! reader #dominik mysterio #rhea ripley #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio x fem! reader #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x fem! reader

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airbendertendou · 1 year

Text

kill my time ♡ murayama yoshiki

soulmate au : a number you get on your wrist when you turn twenty tells you when you’ll meet the one

reader has a brother who remains unnamed ; reader has difficulties sleeping

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♡——

It wouldn’t show up until you turned twenty — your soulmark. You wouldn’t know what it was until your birthday, mind exploring the different fonts and colors and shapes it could be. It could be a time, a date, a name, a sentence ; but you wouldn’t know until you turned twenty.

And you were already impatient for it to happen.

You were eleven when your brother brought home a new friend. Murayama Yoshiki was two years older than you, already had a band-aid on the left side of his cheek, and was hunched over when you met. His right hand was bruised and he had a permanent scowl on his face. The toys you were playing with disappeared as the two older boys stood above you.

“[Name],” your brother spoke. He pointed at the bruised boy with his thumb, puffing out his chest proudly as he continued. “This is ‘Yama. My new friend. Be a nice sibling and get us a snack, hm?”

You only blinked, “get it yourselves.”

Attention occupied by the toys in front of you once more, you missed how your brother deflated. Murayama let out a snort before it grew into loud, obnoxious giggles. He patted your brother on the back, “didn’t teach you to fight so you could be mean to a kid!” Murayama then crouched down in front of you, “whatcha playin’? Can we join?”

And so life went on with one more included in your dinner nights and play times.

Growing up with Murayama, there was never a dull moment. The boy was always cracking jokes, getting into fights, standing up for you when your brother bullied you. It was fun ; he was fun.

You stayed up all night to see what your soulmark would be. A matching tattoo would be pretty ; a timer counting down more convenient than anything. To your luck, a small 11 was printed on the inside of your left wrist. That meant you’d meet your soulmate in eleven years — easy enough. All you had to do was wait.

——♡——

There’s a knock on the front door that startles you awake. Pausing, you wait to see if it was real or something you’d misheard — and then a solid bang! jolts it again. You groan, shuffling from your warm, comfy bed to swing the front door open.

Murayama stands there, sheepish and alert as he peers in behind you. Sighing, you grumble, “he’s not here. Spent the night at his ass of the week’s house.”

The curly haired boy deflates but inches by you anyways as you open the door wider and let him in. You yawn, eyes catching sight of the clock and blanch at the time. “Why’re you here anyways?”

“Fishing.” He holds two fists up, one circling around as if he’s reigning in a reel. Murayama stuffs his hands into his pockets after, rocking on his heels briefly. “He’s really not home?”

“No,” you sigh out. “The sun’s not even up yet, ‘yama. The hell’re you fishing for?”

He doesn’t answer, looking over your disheveled attire and puffy eyes. “Don’t act like you were sleeping.”

“Jus’ drifted off, actually!” You give him the stink eye before turning on your heel and heading back towards your bedroom. Murayama follows behind you slowly, as if he’s testing his limits ; as if he’d never been alone with you before. You glare again as you plop back into your blankets, “no thanks to you.”

There’s a small light that’s shining in the center of your room, illuminating the area softly. It smells like lavender — your pillows, your sheets, the laundry detergent you use. All in vain ; Murayama knows it never helped you fall asleep.

“Gonna wait for him here?” Your voice is quieter ; it matches the atmosphere you’d created. He can barely see you in the dim lights, but Murayama knows you’ve cozied back up. “You’re welcome to. I’m going back to sleep. Goodnight!”

He rocks on his feet again as you turn over harshly, your back facing him. The room settles before you huff and glare at him over your shoulder. “What do you want, delinquent?”

Scrunching his nose at the old nickname, he shrugs. “You look comfy, s’all…” Murayama tilts his head side to side — your eyes narrow even more. You know where this is going. “And it is pretty early…. ‘M a little tired still…”

You groan and turn over, burying your face into your well-worn pillow. He thinks you didn’t take the bait ; thinks you won’t give in the way you typically do. But, Murayama wins most games he plays and you’re not exempt from that. “Jus’ get in already.”

Giddily, he’s jumping in beside you before he can think. You squeal when his leg rubs yours — “no sleepin’ in my bed with your jeans on!”

He’s tossing and turning endlessly, bare legs slipping against your own as he turns to the left. With a huff, Murayama lays on his back, slamming his hands onto the blanket below him. You sigh, raising up and crossing your arms in annoyance. “Are you done now, delinquent?”

“Can’t get comfy,” he says through a pout. You roll your eyes, relaxing your arms and posture as you think about just settling down and sleeping whether he was or not. Wide, brown eyes look your way, “help me, [name].”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” You clench your teeth as he shrugs, wiggling once more.

Suddenly, your right wrist is gathered in Murayama’s grip as he slings you forward. You gulp, looking down at him now as he grins. “This could help…”

“How would me hovering over you help you sleep?” Your voice has softened ; quieted at the lack of space between you. Your fingers clench in a fist as he slightly scoots down so that your noses brush now. “Do you want me to just sleep in the air?”

You’re on your back before you can think. Murayama is caging you against your bed now, the cutely shaped light in your room illuminating from behind him like a halo. You gulp, eyes widening as he lowers his face even further, the hand that was gripping your wrist letting go.

Slowly, Murayama’s hand meets the center of your chest, palm open as he tilts his head. “Heart’s beatin’ so fast, [name],” he’s quiet as he speaks. “Am I makin’ you nervous?”

How could he not be? He’s hovering over you, wavy strands tickling your forehead as he shifts his weight ever so slightly. Your breath catches in your throat as Murayama’s eyes meet yours — he just stares.

“A little,” you squeak out. He grins at the noise ; only the right side of his lips lifting into a crooked, uneven smile. “Are you going to sleep in the air?”

Murayama lets out a loud sigh as he tilts his head, his hand creeping up to rest on your left cheek now. “I’m tryin’ to flirt with you, ya know? Why won’t you let me?”

“We—” your eyes drop to his grin before snapping them back up once more. His smile seems to widen at this, going to both sides of his mouth now. “Soulmates, delinquent. We both have someone out there, waiting for us.”

He frowns, curly hair falling into his eyes ; you resist the urge to brush it away for him. “Don’t think it could be me?”

“I’ve already met you.” Your voice is quiet again as you speak, defeated and accepting of the truth. Murayama wasn’t your soulmate, and he never would be — no matter how much both of you wanted it. “I still have a few more years to meet mine.”

As if to mock you — as if to make the truth burn more — the mark on Murayama’s wrist rubs against the one on yours. It’s warm, comforting as they touch. He sighs, leaning in to rest his forehead on yours, “wish it was different.”

“Me too,” you admit. Murayama pulls away to look at you, eyes widening at your confession. You shrug half-heartedly, as best as you could when he was still holding you down. “For a while, I guess. High school was hell for me — thought about you a lot.”

Letting out a groan, the delinquent lets his head fall to your collarbone as he huffs against it. His breath is warm and tickles where it touches — you try not to think about it. “Wish I knew. Had the biggest crush on you.”

Tugging your bottom lip beneath your teeth, you tentatively rake a hand through his hair. Murayama sags against you even more, almost falling on you. “Had?”

“Still do, I think.” Letting out another sigh, the man leaves a barely-there kiss against your neck before lifting himself above you once more. His smile is shaky ; untruthful as he looks down at you. “Let’s get some rest now, hm?”

——♡——

You’re groggy as you wake up a few hours later. The blankets are still warm and slept-in ; Murayama must’ve just left. You let out a yawn, heading to the bathroom before following your growling stomach into the kitchen. Your brother is there now, deep in a conversation with his delinquent friend as you trudge your way to the refrigerator.

“Did either of you dunces make food?” Silence is the only thing that greets you. Raising your eyebrows in confusion, you turn to look at the men. Murayama’s mouth is wide open, gaping as he looks from you to your brother. The other questions his friend’s reaction, shrugging at you before leaving to shower. “Is that a no, then?”

Murayama is suddenly stomping your way, determination hitting every inch of him. Carelessly — but still gently enough to not hurt you — he pulls your left wrist to sit parallel with his own. “When we met…” he says through gritted teeth, “this could be the age we met.”

Your little 11 is side-by-side with his 13. You did meet then ; springly children who were already worrying about soulmates and new coloring books simultaneously. You gulp, your hands turning into fists as you think it over.

And, really, it’s so embarrassing how quickly you jump on him. Your clothes are still a disheveled, slept in mess ; face still puffy and voice still groggy. You know it’s not perfect — not the right, ideal time — but you leap forward and kiss Murayama anyways.

A gasp leaves his mouth as you settle against him, your tattooed wrists brushing and burning once more. You pull away briefly — only to grin at the way he chases after you — and give in immediately to kiss him again. Lightly tugging him away by his hair this time, you eye him for a minute. “This is real — we could be real?”

Murayama grins roguishly, pressing his lips to yours. He doesn’t pull away much, only enough to whisper, “think we've been real for a while.” Your grin meets his as you kiss him again.

——♡—— ofc this is for all my h&l loves @straysugzhpe @star2fishmeg @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @high-lowincorrect muah muah muah!! hopefully ill get done with this series soon bc i didnt expect to take this long <;/3 airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#💝 : soulmate au’s #murayama yoshiki #murayama yoshiki x y/n #murayama yoshiki drabbles #murayama yoshiki x reader #high&low x reader #high&low #high&low the worst #high & low x reader #high & low #high & low the worst #high and low x reader

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sapphireblondie · 10 months

Text

Forbidden Territory

It had been 3 years since he came around your house. He was your brother’s best friend since middle school. Their junior year of college, he started dating some girl named Himiko. You and your brother lived at your parents house even after they passed away your freshman year of high school, it was home to all of you. Your brother and his best friend were only 3 years older than you and he practically lived with you after your parents car accident. He helped you and your brother grieve, but after he met Himiko, he became a complete stranger to you. It hurt to lose someone so close but no matter how mad you got about it, there was nothing you could do. There was one point when your brother even said they were engaged and discussing marriage. You didn’t know whether to be happy for him or sad you’ll never see him again..

As you were scrolling through your text message history you heard a familiar voice outside your room walking towards the back of the house. You sat up on your bed to listen to your brother and the unknown male voice. “Dude, I don’t know, she said she’s in love with her best friend and has been for months now, I haven’t been giving her the attention she’s been needing.” “You’ve been working your ass off to save up for this fucking wedding, maybe if she got off her ass and got a fucking job.” You could hear the anger in your brother’s voice. You walked towards your door trying to hear the response, but the voices turned to whisper as you tried to quietly open your door. You pulled your door open in time to see your brother’s door closing “Ugh really?”. You walked down the hall to your brothers door to try to figure out who he’s talking too. You heard your brothers voice “So is she still living with you?” Then the other man responded “No, she packed up some of her stuff and left about a week ago, then I packed up the rest of her shit and put it on the table to grab while I was at work. She came grabbed everything except the pictures of us, she left all those on the table. I don’t know Eijiro, I told her my doors always open.” You were almost sure who it was and if it was Katsuki, you were gonna be pissed cause he deserved better than that psycho girl he had. You reached for the doorknob as you heard “I’m gonna go say hi to y/n” “Fine but put on something not covered in car grease I don’t need her pissed you’re stinking up the house.” Before your brain processed what that meant, the door opened and you were face to face with a shirtless Katsuki. Your face became heated as he smiled and his sharpened K-9s glistened. “Hi, short shit. How ya been?” Your eyes wouldn’t leave his smile.. it was the one thing that always got him out of trouble. You finally shook your head breaking the stare. “No!” Katsuki let out a loud laugh “No? That’s how you been.” You growled in frustration “No! No. as in no you’re not getting out of trouble this time with that stupid cute smile!! She fucking cheated on you for months and your response is “My doors always open.” Like are you fucking serious right now?? She ripped apart my entire family for fucking years and your fucking response is-” “Y/n!!” Your brother’s voice echoed over yours breaking the rampage coming from your lips as tears accumulated in your eyes. Katsuki sighed “Who knew the short shit cared so much.” “Whatever, I’m going for a drive.” You stormed off grabbing your keys and jacket as you walked out. Katsuki turned around looking at Eijori confused “You know for someone who’s so short and quiet, she sure has alot of bite in her bark doesn’t she.” Eijori smiled “Yeah, I mean the entire thing kinda threw this entire house for loop and you guys were really close and haven’t spoken since then, and if she heard as much as she said, then she heard the part where you told the girl that ripped her house apart she’s welcome back anytime.... so I get where she’s coming from but she fails to understand, this isn’t her life to choose to change.” Katsuki smiled “Does she still go to the coast when she’s mad?” Eijori smiled “Yeah, same place you always found her every time school pissed her off and she came up missing. I don’t know if it’s good idea to go after her though, I haven’t seen her that mad since you walked out...” Katsuki turned his head in confusion... “Yeah thinking about it.. she’s been really sensitive about this over the years..” Katsuki tossed Eijori his shirt and walked out grabbing his keys and heading for his car.

Katsuki unlocked his car, snagged a clean shirt from the duffel bag in the back seat and threw it on. He climbed into the drivers seat and headed towards the coast. After a 45 minute drive to the coast Katsuki seen your car parked next to a pier. “It was always this spot.. this spot has so many memories for all of us..” Katsuki shut off his headlights as he pulled up next to your car. He could barely see you sitting at the end of the pier staring at the sunset as the colors danced with the crashing waves. Katsuki reached back grabbing a beach towel he had packed the other day then got out and began walking down the pier. You turned around to the sound of approaching footsteps. You rolled your eyes as you stood up to walk away “wait, I’m not-” Katsuki stood in front of you. “I don’t care Katsuki, you walked out, you left like we didn’t mean anything?” Katsuki looked at you as the tears began to roll down your face. He cupped your face “I don’t get it, I never stopped talking to you guys, I talked to your brother on the daily.” You pulled away “never mind, you don’t get it, you’ll never get it.” Katsuki sighed as you walked past him. Katsuki sat down on the pier unsure of how to fix the damage he had caused.

Once you made it home your brother met you at the door “So, did he find you. You know it’s not fair to hold this grudge against him, he didn’t know you were in love with him.” You turned around with a disapproving glare “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You walked into your room and laid down. A few hours went by and you woke up craving something sweet. You climb out of bed and walked to the fridge, as you walked past the bathroom you noticed the light on. You opened the door and reached in and shut off the light. “Yo!” you jumped opening the door to find Katsuki standing there fresh out of the shower. Your face reddened with embarrassment as he stood there hung with all his glory exposed. “Fuck I’m so sorry!!!” You swung the door closed running to your room. After a couple minutes of laying in you bed ashamed you heard your door open. “I’m so sorry katsuki, I’m not used to-” Katsuki chuckled “No worries, I talked with your brother earlier and I need to talk with you.” You sat up looking at Katsuki in the darkened. “Oh?” Katsuki leaned forward pressing his lips against yours. A sigh of relief and happiness escaped “I didn’t know you liked me, little miss teddy bear.” You couldn’t fight the the blush that covered your face. “It wasn’t my place to step into your life like that.. you had your eyes on someone else.. which wasn’t me..” Katsuki smirked “That’s cause you’re forbidden territory.” You looked at him confused as you stood up. “What’s that even mean?” Katsuki stood up regaining dominance of the room “Your older brother is my best friend, everyone knows best friends sister are against code!” You growled glaring at him “So this entire time that I suffered in silence, it was over some DUMB BRO CODE!!!” Katsuki’s face reddened “UH... yes...” You pushed Katsuki out of your way as you stormed towards the door mumbling “Stupid, so fuckin-”. “Wait!” Katsuki grabbed your arm pulling you back against his body “He didn’t give me permission, just simply explained to me why you were mad.. I don’t know if he’d be ok with me making out with his little sister.” You looked at Katsuki “Then why did you kiss me Katsuki?” Katsuki’s face froze “I’m not sure.. just give me sometime until I can figure out how to tell him..” You tilted your head “Tell him what?” Katsuki chuckled nervously scratching his head “Uh, that I. well um I want to date you.” You rolled your eyes.. “Well let me know when you do that....then well revisit this topic. Until then I’m going for my nightly swim.” You grabbed your bag and walked out of the room and to your car. Katsuki ran after you befuddled by your actions. “Wh...” As you drove off your brother walked out of the house “If you pissed her off again then she’s headed to the pier, plus she goes for a swim about this time every night. Since you went after her earlier, I can go get her-” “No. I got it. It’s my doing.. but why did you tell me she was in love with me?” Eijori laughed “Because you’ve been trying to let go of her for the last 3 years, and were willing to go to the length of getting married to someone else you weren’t even happy with.” Katsuki’s face turned crimson as a knot in his stomach twisted. “How?” Eijori echoed in laughter as he pulled out his phone to a video of a bonfire 3 years ago. “Cause you told EVERYONE at her birthday party right in front of your new girlfriend. My sister was in the bathroom in the house trying not to throw up because she decided to get into mom and dad’s alcohol stache and drink too much. I managed to contain Himiko’s anger for the name slip but I knew you didn’t mess up, you finally confirmed what I had suspicions of for years! You could never focus around her and you’d get pissed anytime she started talking to someone and treat them like shit to the point they’d take a break cause they couldn’t handle being around her family. She never said anything cause she was too afraid to upset you, and I knew how much she liked you, she was always glued to your side, always willing to help with everything, make lunch, make dinner, buy you things, didn’t matter she was there. You both completely blindingly fell in love and had no clue the other was in love too.” Katsuki sighed “You always knew.. So you wouldn’t be mad if we dated.” Eijiori smiled “I mean I don’t ever wanna hear about anything you guys do and keep the PDA to a minimum in front of me cause she is still my little sister, but no I wouldn’t be mad, if anything I’d rather her with you over someone else because I know you’ll take care you her. Katsuki chuckled “Well with this newly learned information, I think I have a heart to fix.” Eijori laughed “I’ll tag along just in case”

Standing at the end of the pier, you stared at the stars torn between letting go or opening up again. “Hey short shit!” You heard Katsuki’s voice echo in the night as he dashed at you and jumped tackling you into the water. As the both of you crashed to the water you kicked up trying to reach air “What the hell katsuki, my phone could of been in my pocket!” Katsuki laughed “I would of replaced it, calm down.”Katsuki grabbed your waist pulling you towards him as he pressed his wet body against yours. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I joined your night swim.” Katsuki pressed his lips against yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist. A smile broke across Katsuki’s face “I have waited so long to feel your body against mine.” You smiled letting a laugh escape. “Get a room!!” You heard from the pier above you. You looked up to see Eijori falling towards you. “Oh fuck!” You and Katsuki let go of each other and swam away getting out of the crash zone of Eijori’s cannonball. Eijori hit the water and popped back up echoing in laughter. “Are you insane!! You could of killed one of us!” Katsuki laughed swimming towards you, “You were always so cute when you were angry.” Katsuki grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. “So apparently your brother knew, he’s always known..” You looked at Eijori “What do you mean you’ve always known.” Eijori smiled “He confessed it like 3 years ago on your birthday but he was already dating his new girlfriend. I had to do damage control because I honestly thought he was trying to let you go. I was wrong, dumbass couldn’t get over your weirdness, must of contaminated his brain cells.” You growled pulling away from Katsuki “I’m gonna drown your dumbass!!!” Eijori laughed as he swam towards shore. Katsuki not far behind managed to catch your foot and pulled you back towards him. Wrapping you in his grasp as you wrapped your legs around his waist “So what do you say teddy bear.. wanna give dating a shot?” You smiled pressing your lips against his. He smiled “Is the a yes?” You giggled “Mhm.”

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #Katsuki Bakugō #bakugou katsuki

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mouthfullofmunson · 1 year

Text

More pest Eddie thoughts 🫶

He makes loud fart noises with his mouth, turns to you with the most disgusted look on his face “if you’re going to do that you can leave 😒 Wayne works hard to make this house a home and you’re ruining that”

“What does that have to do with you making a-“

“No, I’m done with your excuses”

“It’s not an excuse, you’re so stupid”

“That’s why I’m cheating on you with Harrington”

“What?!”

“You heard me 😒”

He’s such a “shower with me, baby. It saves water.” Kind of boyfriend like omg

If you’re showering over at his place he marches into the bathroom and pulls the curtain back (obviously shocked because you were just calmly rinsing out your conditioner when he yanked the curtain open) “without me?! And you’re using the conditioner that you brought over so now it’s mine without telling me? So you’re wasting water and stealing from me? This is a new low.”

While your shouting at him to get out and trying to cover yourself even though he’s seen it 1000 times and couldn’t care less that you’re naked because he’s trying to scold you about stealing

“Get out?!”

“Fine, I’ll leave. But I’m taking your clothes and towel and I don’t want to hear another word about it!”

If you wear his clothes he gives you the dirtiest looks “you’re going to make them stink! Oh my god, there is already sweat stains. Nope, give the shirt back. You make me sick. I guess you’ll just have to be naked!”

Literally never shuts up when he’s around you

And you know it’s because you’re one of the only people who actually listens when he talks so you appreciate him trusting you to talk about whatever it is but when you’re barley hanging on and it’s 3 am and he still hasn’t shut up it’s kind of annoying

“And birth marks. Like have you ever seen my birthmark? Well, I’m sure you have cause it’s next to… you know. But what even is a birth mark? Is it a mark from you getting squeeze out… but what about c-section babies?”

“We’re you a c section baby?”

“Wait… show me your birth mark because mine is shaped like half a heart so I want to see if your matches because that means that we’re soulmates. Someone should write a book about us”

“Awe, I think we’re soulmates. That’s so cute, isn’t it? Do you believe in soul mates? Cause I do. I think your soulmates doesn’t always have to be like your wife or something. And I think you can have multiple soulmates. An example, I think my soulmates are French toast, boobs, probably you. Oh and back to the whole wife thing- would you want to ever be my wife? Like, actually maybe you don’t want to go by wife since that seems so like gendered property thing. You could be my life partner. Or we don’t even have to get married we can still be together for the rest of our lives though.”

Says shit like “you wish” to everything

“Can you pass me my water”

“You wish” he laughs while he literally leans over to grab it and hands it to you

“Can you cuddle me, Ed? I’m cold.”

“You wish” he says as he leans into you and wraps his whole body around you

He lovesssssss kissing all over you and cuddling into you when he knows you don’t want it

Like when you’re annoyed with him for some reason

He loves to jump on you and press kisses all over your face “I love when you are so sweet to me and you’re not mad at me and you just let me kiss you all over” and you’re pushing him away and rolling your eyes and turning your head but he grabs your face and presses kisses to your lips until he gets super annoyed

His face falls “kiss me back, come on. You can’t resist my juicy lips when they are on yours I know you’re going to kiss me” he says all while his lips are still on yours

“Are you seriously not going to kiss me back? I’m sensitive, I’ll cry. Or I’ll tell Wayne and you will never be welcome back into the munson home ever again”

And you can’t help but crack a smile and kiss him back

“Okay, enough! You’re all over me! Y/n enough! You’ve kissed my lips purple!” He’s so dramatic

If he wakes up before you he makes you both a nice breakfast then sits and eats it and when you come out he’s like “oh did you want some… yeah, breakfast is only for good boys who wake up on time. So that would only be me.”

And you’re all grumpy because you just woke up and he just yanks you onto his lap and kisses over your face even though he has some of his breakfast crumbs on his face “I’m just joking, sweetheart. Go grab your place it’s over there.”

He gets water in his ears every single time he showers without fail

And if you’re with him he starts screaming out for you and when you bust into the bathroom he’s like “get the water out of my ear please! I can’t hear anything!”

OKAYYY those are all the thoughts I have! Let me know yours, if you have any!

#eddie munson #my post #eddie munson x reader #pest!eddie #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanon #eddie stranger things

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abbonation · 2 months

Text

Lost Apprentice, Chapter I: Get Clean

Admitting you have a problem is the hardest part.

Explicit, 18+ content ~1.9k words

A/N: Welcome one, welcome all to the first full length fic of mine that isn't only smut! Blame it on the anti-depressants, blame it on the times but a bitch is needing some story goddamnit. Something with some bite to it. Which is something I've honestly never written before; that being said- feedback is welcomed and encouraged! This first chapter is shorter but I have the next few started and will hopefully update a couple times a week as I have time between work and school :)

CWs: accidental voyeurism; like 1 (one) horny thought?? It's light asf this chapter but let me know if you notice other necessary warnings I didn't include!!

Chapter I: Get Clean

A loud sight of relief escapes you upon stepping over the threshold of the combination bar and inn located— where the fuck are we? Eriadu? Ahh right, a small town on Eriadu. The jungle planet known only for its proximity to both the Hydian Way and Rimma trade route.

It had been nineteen, yes, nineteen full day cycles since your last shower, and technically you didn’t start feeling really nasty until about the seventh cycle mark, seeing as the first three were spent in hyperspace, but still. Over two full galactic weeks. No shower. And of course the Crest didn’t have even a sonic shower, yet Mando wondered why you seemed to be feeling stressed. Certainly it had nothing to do with the utter stink that was surely wafting off your body at this point, knowing full well he had the credits to install a complete fresher on the ship.

But, you were here now, a few warn down buildings, most covered in moss, but civilization nonetheless, where Mando had said We’ll refuel and rest up- then I’ll take you home.

He approached the bar where a Trandoshan man stands, wiping the counter.

“Are your bathing stalls private?” Mando asks, hands on his utility belt.

“Well, there are no bath stalls, but we have a bath house; it’s 5 credits a person, you get an hour. It’s public but there ain’ been a soul in there all day, so it’s all yours.” He smiles and you nod in thanks.

Mando turns to you, you can almost see the raised eyebrows on his face through the visor.

“I don’t mind sharing, I mean, if you’re okay with it.” you throw your hands up, honestly you’d wash in a mud puddle at this point if it meant feeling any less dirty than you are right now.

He turns back to the bartender, passing him 10 credits and walking where he points, they’re just down the stairs and behind the double doors. Enjoy. You glare at his smirk.

—

“I don’t, uh, want to make you wait so you can go first,” Mando stumbles out, holding his towels.

“Nah, it’s okay, you are the captain and all,” you respond- even if what you’d like to say is ‘Sounds great, if I have to smell like hot garbage for even one more minute I may implode.”

“No really, I insist, it’s my fault we’re late getting back anyway.” He looks down at the tiled floor.

You think about how he insisted you stay by the treeline as the group of criminals passed by. There was no bounty catching or murdering scheduled for this trip, you were just supposed to be helping him find a pre-galactic war era ruin that was rumored to be in the jungle on this planet. Yet, there they were, and there he went. You had ended up intervening, shouting some shit like, ��Oh no Mando! I’m so scared!” Trying to distract the attackers. Four armed men looked like they should’ve been a struggle, but he handled it no problem, especially with your distraction. They turned and two began running towards you, and Mando had to duck and weave between the other two to reach them. You had your dagger out and at the ready, slicing at one of them when he got you up against a tree. When he lunged towards your neck, you dropped your weight, stabbing the dagger into the meat of his thigh and pulling up, slicing through his flesh. He shrieked and fell in pain, blood dripping down your arms. You quickly removed the dagger, turning to run from him, when you looked back to see Mando stomping on his face. You swallow and stare at the boot shaped hole he was making, growling in effort, the other three men lay surrounding Mando. You hold the knife out again when he turns towards you, an unintentional move following what you just bared witness to.

He stepped forward, “Why did you do that?” He’s angry.

“I-I’m sorry I was trying-” you sound weak, and you hate it.

“I don’t care about ‘trying to help’. You could’ve been killed. Or worse, and you know it.” He’s closer now, still angry, but less yelling in your face.

“I thought I could help.” You say to the ground.

He releases a breath and turns, resuming the trek back out of the forest towards the Crest.

—

And after the small amount of back and forth, here you are. Sharing the deep stone bath, overflowing with steamy lavender and salt scented water, the stained glass inlaid in the ceiling casts a spectacular light on the room and a thin divider made of spindly, vine-like woven reed material separates you and Mando.

You’re sure he won’t take the helmet off, that’s his prerogative, though. For now you let the hot water loosen your tight muscles and bones, cramped from the lack of moving room on the ship. There’s a tense silence between you, save for the trickling water and distant sounds of the bar beyond the doors.

“Listen, uh, about the jungle,” You hear his voice, and confirm that he still has the helmet on from the tune of his vocoder, and peek over to your right to see his blurred outline through the divider.

“It’s.. nothing. Let’s not mention it.” You don’t want to think anymore about his over-protection despite your barely being what you might consider ‘friends’. Or the fact that you liked watching him kill the person who meant to hurt you.

“I just- don’t want to be the reason you get killed. That’s all.”

The water splashes when he puts his arms back down.

“Why did you ask me to come if you didn’t want all the help I can offer, Mando?”

“You know I didn’t ask you to come to be my bodyguard. You’re better at the, y’know, the smart stuff. And I’m better at the.. Killing stuff. They weren’t going to get the chance to mug us.” You laugh at him then, he’s right.

Silence overtakes you both again and you can’t seem to keep the anger at his actions at surface level when the water feels this good and he doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge.

You brush your fingertips over your scalp and down the front of your chest, brushing over your nipples and shivering when the chilly air hardens them. Too risky for now, though you are keyed up from the last couple weeks. You sink down until just your nose and the top of your head rests above the water, and blow bubbles on the surface.

“What’s that?” His voice turns towards you.

“Blowin’ some bubbles,” you hope he hears your smile, this really is a luxurious place, even if it came after a lot of suffering. “So, where to after this?”

You start to shampoo your hair, working the suds over your head.

“Like I said, I’m taking you back to Obroa-Skai.”

“No pit stops this time, Mando?”

You’re rinsing your hair and smoothing in the conditioner now.

“Well- I actually did calculate in a stop on Nevarro for some bounties, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, it’s on our way right? I don’t mind, nothing to do back at home except examine more rocks,” you laugh and lean towards the divider to grab the bar of soap when you inadvertently get a glimpse to his side of the bath through the divider.

His bare thighs with wet hair slicked to them stick out of the water, he’s leaned back on the same wall you were. His sun kissed stomach slopes down to a delicious happy trail, and you breathe out, blinking hard to snap out of your trance. “Sorry what?”

“I asked if you like your job.”

“Yeah, um, I mean, as much as anyone likes their job, I guess. It’s nice to enjoy what you do even just a little bit.” You lather the bar against the sponge and begin washing your feet and legs, up towards your thighs.

“Why haven’t you been bounty hunting recently?” You knew there had to be a reason he needed your help on this trip, he hadn’t divulged it yet.

The water sloshes on his side, he’s washing himself now too.

“Remember the uh, the kid I had with me last time we stopped on your planet?”

“Sure, the green baby? That was a bounty though, right?”

“Yeah, he was, he sort of became more than that though. I ended up.. keeping him.”

Your scrubbing comes to a halt and you turn to the divider, “Wait, you what?”

“I kept him. He’s my ad’ika, my son.”

Your eyes close and you shake your head, trying to make sense of things. “So you just kept this child? And whoever put the bounty out let you?”

“Not exactly, it’s a long story. I’ll explain eventually, but I asked because you helped me a lot- finding this remnant, it would be nice to have your help more readily available in the future… and I’m looking for him, I need to know he’s safe.”

“So someone took him?”

“No, just.. Okay. He’s a Jedi and he’s training with his master. I gave him over willingly, but I don’t know where he is now.”

“Mando you’re fucking crazy.” You have to laugh at the situation.

“Excuse me?” He sounds wounded almost.

“I mean, not to be mean but we don’t talk, or see each other for like what? A year and a half? And you’ve had this crazy life changing journey, a child, new armor, new everything! It’s just.. wild. How do I know it’s even you under there? And now you want me to do what? Quit my job and surf the stars with you?”

He’s quiet.

“You’re- you’re right. It’s foolish of me.”

You hear him start to get out of the water, splashing as he covers up in a towel.

Fuck. That’s not what was supposed to happen. You stand up too, quickly reach to wrap up in your towel, and run-walk as quick as possible to meet him where he’s headed for the doors back to the changing room.

“Wait, Mando, that’s, that’s not what I meant.” You stop, and place your hand on his bare shoulder to turn him to face you. The T of his visor tilts down to look at your face, and where your hand rests on his skin.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of your search for your son. It’s just crazy how much has changed since we last saw each other, y’know?”

You look up at him and notice his adam’s apple bob as he swallows and nods.

“I didn’t say no. Or that I don’t want to, it's just.. insane, but that doesn’t always have to be a bad thing.” You smile and look down at his chest.

The gentle trickle of the water spouts is the only sound, and the steamy heat of the room must be getting to your head when you move your hand down his clavicle to skate just your fingertips over the hair on his chest. He shivers. “I think I might want to. Just lemme think about it.” You move just your eyes up to meet the helmet and he clears his throat before he answers, nodding “Okay.”

#din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fic #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian imagine #pedro pascal characters #abbonationfics #no smut yet but there willlllllllllllllll be #lost apprentice

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annahxredaxted · 9 months

Text

New neighbor (sweethearts Version)

Characters: Milo/Sweetheart

Type: slice of life

Tw: cursing.

The neighbor in question is female, please don’t come for me.

(It was a poll)

————

Sweetheart swiftly strode into the room, shorts and a tee shirt, relaxed and at ease. When they’d walked into the living room, they’d caught milo inspecting their bookshelf, now now of course milo was allowed to read from it. But it was in fact the books they’d hoarded since their teen years, and the specific genres didn’t seem like they’d appeal to Milo.

“Whatcha looking for stink-butt?” They jokingly asked, poking out behind him, resting their head on his shoulder.

He jumped at the sudden voice.

“God damnit sweetheart! You damn near gave me a heart attack!” He proclaimed breathing heavily, one hand clutching his tank top, bending over, with his other hand on his knee.

“Sorry Milo,” they chuckled to themselves, kissing his cheek “,it just riles you up to much to not scare you.”

He rolled his eyes, bringing them in his embrace, sourly hugging them. “Whatever you fuckin monster.” He mocked, kissing their head.

“Anyways,” they started, looking at Milo then back at the heavily stuffed bookcase. “,what are you lookin to read?” They asked, raising their eyebrows.

He looked at them, moving his hands to their waist.

“Ehh I dunno. I’m just sick of watching TV, ‘was looking for something to sit down and read.” He explained away, rubbing light circles in his sweethearts waist.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” they muttered. “, I just don’t think you’d have interest in any of these- well actually hold on.” They broke of contact with Milo, turning to the shelf.

“You might like this one. It’s not bad. By bad I mean scary- like at all.” They chuckled, handing him some random Nancy drew book.

“Fitting.” He chuckled, picking the book up readying the blurb in a British accent.

“Shut up you asshole.” They laughed out loud, playfully slapping him upside his head.

He smiled lopsidedly, his canine tooth sticking out the bottom of his upper lip.

They smiled back at their beautiful boyfriend, gazing deeply into his enchanting sea foam eyes, observing his face, his freckles, scars, moles, and itty bitty hairs poking out from when he’d shaven earlier that day. They thought about how much they’d loved him. And always would love them.

“I love you milo” Sweetheart said, raspiness in their voice at their attempt to whisper. Milo smiled bigger, one of his eyes almost shutting.

“I love you too baby.”

They smiled, resting their head against his shoulder.

“Oh wait sweetheart i forgot something in the car, here come with me it’s for you.” Milo stated, moving swiftly towards the front door.

“What? Like a gift?,” they asked. Milo nodded. They begrudgingly groaned “,Milo…” they held the O longer than necessary.

“Oh come on Sweetheart. I swear I know you don’t like gifts, and I didn’t set out to buy you one, but I saw it and thought of you so I just had too!” He defended himself smiling.

They rolled their eyes and followed him out to His car.

As they walked outside they saw a woman, about their age, walking up to their house, holding flowers.

Sweetheart raised an eye brow.

“Here I’ll handle this you get the thing.” They whispered to milo, he nodded. They walked up to the woman, meeting her halfway.

The Woman smiled, Sweetheart recognized her— she was their neighbor across the street. She has a husband in the military, If the flag on her house had anything to say about it.

“Hi, Can I help you?” Sweetheart asked politely

“Hii I’m Katy, I’m your neighbor. Welcome into the neighborhood.” She exclaimed.

Sweetheart nodded with a smile “thank you.” They muttered.

Katy looked at them, then at the house behind them. “Is your husband home?” She asked, looking around.

“My- My.. Husband..?,” they paused “,oh you mean Milo. No he’s my boyfriend, and yeah he’s home, just in the garage.” They explained away.

“Boyfriend?..” Katy repeated with a gleam in her eyes. “,how long?” She asked with a shred of hope.

“Oh uh six years. Nearly seven.” They stated, sticking their hands in their pockets.

That surely made Katy feel a wee less hopeful.

She scowled oh so slightly, a fake smile plastered on her face.

“Oh well I’d love To meet him. You know, get to know the new neighbors.” She said, grinning.

“Oh sure,” sweetheart started “, Milo! Can you come here please!” They yelled, facing the garage, seeing milo walk out with a bag in hand.

Said action made Katy’s eyes literally light up, she straightened her posture, brushing her shirt off.

“Hey there,” he said with a bit of gruffness to his voice “, nice to meet ya, I’m Milo.” He introduced himself, holding his hand out to shake hers.

She immediately grabbed his hand, shaking it lightly, as her hand pulled away, she caressed his knuckles, being sure to go slower than necessary.

Sweetheart nearly died laughing, but they maintained themselves, stifling their laughter.

“Pleased to.. meet you I guess.” Milo muttered.

“Pleasures all mine.” She winked, “oh! Here’s the flowers- fresh from my garden, picked specifically for you two.” She said, snootily Turning her head away from sweetheart.

They couldn’t help but let out a quick laugh at her action.

She snapped her head at them.

“Something funny?” She asked with a fake smile, raising a brow with a sick cold look in her eyes.

Sweetheart immediately stopped. “No.” They muttered, looking down with a smirk being hidden on their face. “,just..allergies.” They explained away

“I think we need to go back to our—,” milo thought for a second. “The stove! It’s running we need to head inside, right Sweetheart?” He asked smiling at them

“Stove— oh yes! Our stove!” Sweetheart agreed, going along with Milo.

They both smiled, stifling laughter, walking swiftly back to the front door as Katy yelled a hasty ‘goodbye’

•••

The two of them closed the door, chuckling slightly before walking further into the living room.

“Some people are extremely bad at being secretive.” Milo said rubbing his head.

“You got that right. Oh my god I think if I turned away for even a second she woulda pounced.” Sweetheart laughed breathily rubbing their eyes.

Milo laughed, pulling them closer, peppering their cheek in kisses and rubbing their back, in between laughs.

“Mmm I love you..” milo muttered against their neck leaving a lightly kiss.

They smiled, looking him in the eye.

“I love you..More..” they cackled with a smile before milo and kissed them and said,

“Let’s not start that.” He laughed

“Let’s not”

“After all, everyone knows I love you more than you ever could.” Milo said before laughing and kissing them once more.

••••

Taglist!!!!

@itsdaifuku @verrverii @youisagayhooman @darlin-collins @shellssstuff

#redacted milo #redacted asmr #redacted sweetheart #redacted audio #redacted audio sweetheart #redacted audio milo #redacted asmr milo #redacted asmr sweetheart #redacted fic #what a stinker!

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f10werfae · 2 years

Text

The Build Up

Pairing:Husb!Construction!Chris Evans x Pregnant!Reader

warnings: none

summary: Nothing better than a visit by the Mrs at the local construction site. Chris is a major dilf and family man. Lots of fluff and steamy implications

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Welcome To The Fae Station: Full masterlist💫

Library of Chris Evans: Full Chris Masterlist✨

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Chris' P.O.V)

The scorching sun was horrific, sending waves of sweat and stench to our construction site. Loads of us men having to strip down to the likes of our white vests, our reflective vests long forgotten.

“Oi Chris, when do we get to meet this missus of yours?” John called from the other side of the house we were working on, a new A lister client.

“When I want ya to” I chuckled back, watching him shake his head before going back to nailing parts together, the other guys laughing along with a rag or two being thrown at me.

“Yeah literally all we know is that her name is Y/n, and that’s because her names on your chest dude” Logan commented gesturing to the ink on my chest, positioned right above where my heart would be.

Shaking my head, I just continued on shovelling gravel into the ground before levelling out, trying not to let the heat get to me.

“Look all ya need to know is that m'a happily married man alright?”

��Yes sir”

Despite the harsh weather, I knew i’d never trade my job in. The pay was good, the hours are negotiable, what else could I really settle for? Not to mention it saves me from having to go to the gym three or four times a week.

So lost in thought I didn’t even realise my phone in my back pocket had started going off, setting down my shovel by the brick wall I answered it.

“Baby, i’m here” I heard that sweet honey-like voice of hers say, a smile instantly flying onto my face when I heard her words of endearment. The guys wiggling their eyebrows at me once they saw the smile on my face, they musta caught onto who was on the phone.

“Where abouts are ya precious?” I tried to say as quietly as possible, not wanting to attract attention to it.

“Mmm I’m by the street light on the right, you forgot your lunch again hun” With that motherly scolding voice of hers, I felt myself cower a little before turning to the right, seeing her gorgeous self there. Graced in a short flowly blue floral summer dress, I instantly felt myself swoon, the baby stroller sitting right beside her.

“Gotta go boys, I won’t be long” I breathed out leaving my equipment, walking down the street, my steps getting faster the closer I got.

Y/n's arms outstretched inviting me in for a hug,

“Baby I stink, and i’m sweaty. I don’t know if you’d wanna hug me right now” I said stepping back a little, a pout forming on those kissable lips of hers.

“I don’t care, I wanna hug from my husband”

“Alright c'mere” I growled pulling her in by her hand, her arms going around my neck as I encircled around her waist. Her sweet vanilla scent taking away the industrial smell of the site.

“Didn' I tell ya not to come here? The fumes aren’t good for you or the kids” I scolded back, my hands going to settle on her visible rounded stomach housing our second baby, another boy.

“I know, but I missed you, and so did Noah” She said in a smaller voice, turning around to pick up our 1 year old, his hands stuffed in his mouth.

“There’s my little man” I beamed taking him into my arms, his face overlooking my shoulder as I brought Y/n in closer, my lips catching her in a soft passionate kiss. Only separating when we heard the men behind us cheering, giggles leaving us both as our foreheads rested against each others.

“You better get home early, you know what this does to me”

She whispered against my lips, her hands trailing down my chest in the white vest, her hands resting on the surface of my stomach, kisses being pressed into my chest.

“gah you need to stop bein so distracting, thought you were gonna be good this time?” I teased settling Noah back into his stroller, my hands going to cup my beautiful wife's face, her pregnancy glow making her even more irresistible.

“Sorry baby, but baby here jus missed his daddy” She teased biting her lip a little,

“Oh but he’s not the only one now is he?”

“Hmm nope. Not my fault you look so handsome all built up like this, you look like such a good daddy”

“Is that right?” I whispered, her nose nuzzling against mine

“Oi Chris, you gonna introduce us or what?” I heard Logan say behind us, rolling my eyes I turned around to see the whole lot of them lookin at us.

“Y/n honey, meet the boys, boys this is my wife Y/n and our son Noah”

“Cute. So how did yall meet? There’s no way this sweaty mess of a man just met a soft n'elegant woman like yourself outta nowhere”

“Chris didn’t tell you guys how we met?” Y/n asked curiously, knowing damn well that’s my go to story every time we meet someone new.

With all of them shaking my head she started off with,

“Well before Chris had his own construction company, he actually freelanced around my hometown fixin stuff for whoever. I had come home from college and I was like 22, to see this hunk fixin one of my ma's broken windows. Trust me I was in shock, but then I found out he was a bit older. But that didn’t stop us, did it Chrissy?”

“Chrissy?” Steven snorted

“Shut up Steven if you wanna job tomorrow” I snarked back, my ears feeling warmer at the embarrassment.

“Okay but we wanna know the whole story” Logan said pushing further,

“How about y’all come over to our house tomorrow night for dinner? we'd love to have ya, and i’ll tell ya how we got together” Y/n said happily, god she was so caring and welcoming.

“Is that alright with you boss” I heard someone call out from behind.

“yeah, anything to make the wife happy”

#romance #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x pregnant!reader #dad! chris evans

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neonscandal · 4 months

Text

This ask about ships was a lot of fun to do so I figured I'd round it out with two more of my favorite ships: MatchaBlossom & SatoSugu. 👇🏾

Explain this. Heterosexually.

MatchaBlossom

Gives nose/forehead kisses - Joe and Kaoru is swift to bat him away but, in actuality, he eats up the attention.

Gets jealous the most - Kaoru, demonstrably, is always annoyed at the bitches, bros and non-binary hoes making heart eyes at Joe and hanging off his biceps. Joe might pretend not to notice but he, too, has a hawk eye for any attention shown toward Kaoru and is especially off kilter any time Adam is around or mentioned.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - Cherry, quite begrudgingly, and with a slew of mean little nicknames much to Joe's dismay. Joe is absolutely handsy and needy when drunk but also incredibly heavy. So, even though Kaoru acts like he's in a huff about it, he's also a little delighted. Inversely, Kaoru trusts Carla to get him home after a night at the bar. Home, of course, being wherever Joe is (even if that's Sia La Luce during normal business hours) and always shows up out of the blue, unannounced and very demanding until he passes out. Joe tends to his every whim even if he knows Kaoru won't be awake by the time whatever complex dish he requested is finally ready.

Takes care of on sick days - Since Kaoru is usually too weak to be mean when he's sick, Joe revels in the opportunity to baby and tease him. When Joe's sick, it's a bit of a different story. Regimented medicine disbursal clocked by Carla and tailored to Joe's physical condition and, even if he's making a stink about the ordeal ("all those muscles and you still can't take care of yourself" 🙄), Kaoru's hiding a little smile.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Joe and he pays dearly for it.

Gives unprompted massages - Joe because Kaoru always gets princess treatment. Also, Kaoru would never want to give Joe a big head about his body so he only indulges if asked.

Drives/rides shotgun - For all his bluster, Joe is the passenger princess to Kaoru's anal retentive driving. He likes reclining, hands behind his head, open shirt fluttering against his skin with the windows down. He also loves hanging out of the passenger side when pulling up beside the kids skateboarding. Just really heavy golden retriever vibes.

Brings the other lunch at work - Joe would if he could but Kaoru makes excuses about him being too "undignified" for his place of work (he literally doesn't want any prying eyes on his handsome partner). Plus Kaoru makes it a point to drop into Sia La Luce on the daily, anyway.

Has the better parental relationship - Both. Kaoru is polite and successful and, even during his rebellious youth was still tactful and studious. Joe's parents are non-traditional and extremely supportive, they pushed him to go to Italy to study cuisine, after all. Kaoru is welcomed enthusiastically with open arms in the Nanjo homestead. Joe is similarly received but, since the Sakurayashiki's are a lot more reserved, their displays of acceptance are a lot more conservative. He subsequently feels like he has to walk on eggshells. Kaoru knows he doesn't have to but doesn't correct him since he finds the situation entertaining.

Tries to start role-playing in bed - Joe and it does not go well. Kaoru gets flustered at the mention and he spends a significant time in the dog house. After a much extended breather, Kaoru initiates it, still flustered, and, though Joe appreciates the effort, realizes he wasn't missing out on anything.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Kaoru. You cannot tell me someone that uptight is not incredibly embarrassing once alcohol is introduced into the equation. Kaoru gives very strong Yuuri Katsuki from "Yuri on Ice" vibes (if you know, you know).

Still cries watching Titanic - Kaoru and Joe takes the opportunity to cuddle and coo over him. Such comforts are not needed, of course, but Kaoru isn't going to correct him. It's a rare moment he lets himself be vulnerable so he laps up the softness.

Firmly believes in couples costumes - Joe and Kaoru hates it. To the point where he makes serious efforts to thwart the execution. Not a perfect example, since Kaoru wouldn't be caught dead in this, but one year Joe would pitch something like Red Hot Chili Peppers so he could effectively be shirtless for Halloween and Kaoru shows up in a Chili Pepper 🌶️ costume. (RHCP are problematic so, sorry for the mention but I was spacing on another double entendre).

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - Kaoru and quite smugly, might I add. But Joe doesn't have the same discerning tastes as Kaoru so he's none the wiser. He's just like "Wow, Kaoru, thanks for the shirt/cologne/shoes!" without realizing how expensive they are. Kaoru knows this but still loves seeing Joe in expensive things. It's his little secret.

Makes the other eat breakfast - Joe. Kaoru doesn't need forcing by any means but Joe's always going to be the one in the kitchen, it's one of his many love languages. Kaoru might deign to roll his eyes, even while eating the best thing he's ever had, but Joe knows he's done a good job when Cherry is quiet (which he always is) while eating. Though he puts on quite the show at Sia La Luce.

Remembers anniversaries - Kaoru but he waits for Joe to mention them. He'll never be caught being the more vulnerable or affectionate one but he is, undoubtedly, both. It's why Joe lays on the princess treatment so thick, he knows Kaoru wouldn't ask. Demand in some cases, sure, but when it really matters he wouldn't let himself.

Brings up having kids - Neither. Kaoru has such rich auntie vibes and they're both really happy with the riffraff they pick up along the way. Why change a good thing?

SatoSugu

Gives nose/forehead kisses - Gojo and usually just to be a little shit. It doesn't mean neither enjoy it but Gojo definitely punctuates it with a little "heh".

Gets jealous the most - Geto but barely. Gojo isn't completely oblivious to the attention he gets but he's so down bad for Geto it doesn't matter. He'll entertain the attention for convenience (like making a smooth exit from Riko's school without people asking questions) but otherwise goes on about his day. As such, Geto's jealousy is usually more of an annoyance. He's a good looking dude, fawn over him, too, monkeys!

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive - Gojo is an insufferable lightweight so, fortunately, he doesn't drink often. Instead, he's pontificating aloud the wonders of the world *ahem* Digimon *ahem* or the philosophies of ancient shogun era historical figures while Geto and Shoko are drinking like fish. Then he delivers all participating parties home safely. Note, I did not say drive. He is either abusing his authority with Ijichi to come get them or, provided they don't seem like they'll puke, abusing his teleportation technique. Either way, Shoko crashes with them, obviously.

Takes care of on sick days - Gojo is insufferable on the rare occasions he gets sick and Geto absolutely spoils him. Inversely, when Geto is sick, Gojo does the same but is just... totally clueless. Medicine? Why not candy! Chills? I will warm you up with my body! Both are idiots and refrain from seeking professional advice (reversed curse technique treatment or actual medical assistance from Shoko).

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Gojo. And Geto lets him. Gojo spent a long time not able to give into childish whims and Geto creates a safe space for him to be silly and over the top and petulant when needed. But he can only laugh at so many sea cucumber jokes (jk, the limit does not exist, he's just as bad a simp for Gojo).

Gives unprompted massages - Gojo. Gojo is so incredibly touchy feely though its all reserved for Geto. Before they were a thing, he wasn't even aware of how frequently he'd be draped over Geto's shoulders or leaning on him while engrossed in conversation. It should have been alarming to the Limitless user but Geto's space was always his and vice versa.

Drives/rides shotgun - Geto. Gojo cannot be trusted behind the wheel of a car. Some days, Geto wonders how Yaga trusts him with the future of jujutsu society (even though he knows Gojo takes the responsibility seriously... as seriously as he can).

Brings the other lunch at work - Geto. Gojo would be on an Elf diet of chocolate, puddings, parfaits and candy if Geto didn't. Gojo gives Geto candy every time he eats a curse, though, so it's kind of the same... It is not the same.

Has the better parental relationship - Neither. Gojo's parents didn't parent him and Geto's parents were obligatory but not affectionate. They both seek family elsewhere and were lucky to find it with one another (and Shoko, damnit!).

Tries to start role-playing in bed - Gojo but nothing sexy. Literally, mans spends so much time thinking about historical figures and Jump series' that its more of a "What if" situation that Geto rolls his eyes at everytime. It's not role play, it's more like supposing what kind of person X was in intimate environments that will just pop into Gojo's head as they themselves are engaging in something intimate. Geto knows, at that point, that the moment has turned into a conversation and just indulges in Gojo's outlandish hypotheses with a silly little smile.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer - Gojo. The man is unhinged and an incredible lightweight. It's larger than life limbs everywhere and he sings.

Still cries watching Titanic - Neither but it sparks a lot of surprising convos.

Firmly believes in couples costumes - Gojo which Geto always indulges. The ideas don't even have to be good but, if Gojo lights up when he says it, he's locked in.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas - Gojo. Be so for real right now. Geto is always bashful about accepting. He has no concept of the cost just knows Gojo is absurdly rich and knows no limits when it comes to him so he imagines its an egregious amount. He is correct.

Makes the other eat breakfast - Gojo is not one to sleep much so, surprisingly, he's the one pressing Geto for breakfast. Nevermind that it's something decadently sweet but it's the fact that he wakes up to big, glowing blue eyes and waffles topped with ice cream and syrups Gojo waited in line for while he languished in bed. Nutrition aside, Geto follows up with a more balanced lunch for both of them (see above).

Remembers anniversaries - Geto. He's the romantic. It's not that Gojo doesn't remember or appreciate anniversaries. He's just got so many programs running in that head of his that he's always too early or too late. Geto keeps him grounded in time, for which he is grateful, and Gojo spoils him accordingly.

Brings up having kids - Neither. Haven't they kidnapped enough?

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final-girl96 · 5 months

Text

Broken World: Chapter Seventeen

After everyone was finished eating and everything was cleaned up Jenner showed us the rest of the living area. “Most of the facility is powered down including housing so you’ll have to make do here,” he said as we walked down yet another hallway. Offices lined each side of the hall. “The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There’s a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don’t plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power. The same applies—if you shower, go easy on the hot water.” That made everyone perk up; the fact that there was hot water.

I was walking behind everyone and watched them all pick a room. My head was a little fuzzy from the alcohol but not enough to not know what I was doing. Shane's head popped out of one of the doors when I walked by. “You are more than welcome to share a room with me,” he slurred, smiling. My face scrunched up in disgust and walked by him, picking up my pace, and slipping into a room at the end of the hall. I threw my bag on the floor beside the couch and sat down with a loud sigh. I looked down at my skin, covered in sweat and dirt letting out a bigger sigh. “May as well take advantage of that hot water.” I began to untie my shoes and kicked them off along with my socks. I shed clothing as I walked to the small bathroom on the other side of the room, dropping them into a pile.

I walked to the shower and turned it on, holding my hand under the water. To my delight, the water got hot fast. I stepped under the water, turning around, closing my eyes, and tilting my head back. The hot water felt so relaxing as it loosened my muscles. The bathroom started to steam up, and I turned around to find soap and shampoo. I grabbed the soap and started to wash my body, watching as the dirt and dried blood washed down the drain. Next was my hair, I took my time with washing it. It would probably be a while before I got to have a hot shower again. They even have new razors in the bathroom, so I took care to shave while I was at it. I knew Jenner said to take it easy on the hot water, but it felt too good.

“Fuck! Shit!” I jumped at the sudden voice behind me and spun around. “What the hell?! You scared the fuck out of me, Daryl!” He was standing there holding a bottle of whiskey looking everywhere but at me. “What're you doing?” I asked. “What're you doin'?! You're in my room” I raised my eyebrow and rolled my eyes. “I'm sorry I didn't see your name on it. Oh for fuck sake, Daryl, stop acting like you've never seen me naked before. Unless, you forgot about that time I can home junior year of college during Christmas break. You know the one where you took my virginity and then ignored me for three months after that.”

“Told Ya it was a mistake,” he grunted. I scoffed, “right.” I walked out of the shower and right up to him. “Because having sex with was the most horrible experience of your life!” I yanked the bottle out of his hand, grabbed a towel and walked out into the room. “Take a shower, Daryl, you stink!” I slammed the door and plopped on the couch. Looking to my right to see a cot was set up and put the bottle to my lips, taking a long sip of whiskey, sucking in air through my teeth at the slight burn it made as the amber liquid raved down my throat.

I wasn't on the couch more than five minutes before I was back up, slamming the bottle on the desk and stalking into the bathroom.

“You know what, Dixon!”

He flinched and turned around and stared at me with wide eyes. “The hell ya doin’?!” he yelled. “You day it was a mistake what happened between us. But it wasn't. You enjoyed it and don't say you didn't! You liked being the first man to be inside me. The first to make me come. You liked how I screamed your name. You're just a coward who runs from his feelings! You let Merle make all your decisions for you!”

“You don't know what the hell ya talkin’ about!”

I raised my eyebrows, dropped my towel, and walked right up to him under the surprisingly still hot water. “I do know what I'm talking about. I might have been the one to leave, but you're the one who pushed me away so many times I felt like I had no choice. You've hurt me a lot, Daryl Dixon. You broke my heart when you ignored the next day and then three months after that. I fucking loved you! And don't you dare say it's our age gap because we're only five ye…” I was cut off by him pressing his lips to mine. My brain was so fuzzy from the alcohol that I didn't respond right away. I was trying to figure out what was going on and how it went from hating each other to now with me wrapped around him and my back pressed to the tile.

Daryl's lips trailed down my jaw to my neck, where He sucked a mark into my skin. His hard length pressed against me, pulling a whine from me. “Please.” Daryl gripped himself, looking down between our bodies, and rubbing the tip of his cock through my slit a few times before finding my entrance and pushing inside of me.

“What the hell ya doin’ woman?!” I jumped at the sudden voice and looked up. Daryl was stalking towards me and grabbing the bottle out of my hand. “Well, I was enjoying a drink and having a really good daydream until you interrupted.” Daryl scoffed and sat on the other end of the couch. There was silence between us. Daryl kept fidgeting, and I started to get annoyed by it. “Will you stop!” I said, looking over at him. “Will you get dressed!” He grunted out. His cheeks started to turn a light shade of pink, and I laughed. “Sure, Daryl, I'll get dressed.”

I stood up, walked over to my bag, and pulled out my clothes. But I didn't go to the bathroom, instead I put my clothes on the cot and dropped the towel. “Fucking christ!” Daryl's face turned even more red as he willed himself to look everywhere but at my naked form.

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tzviaariella · 6 months

Text

She comes in the clothes of your mother, her arms full of welcome, her smile full of teeth. My child, she calls you, my sweet one, my darling, but the words are smoke, stinking as they waft from the cheerful crematorium of her mouth.

Welcome her, dear child, your father tells you. This is my wife.

My wife, he says and not your mother. Your mother is dead. This woman is a stranger. But you are a good girl, everyone says so, and you desperately want to be loved. You unbar the door of your home, and as she enters, you gift her your smile.

Welcome home, you say.

The first day, she feeds you milk and sweet honey cake, stroking your hair as you sit to eat it. Such beautiful hair you have, everyone says so, thick and long like your mother's. Her fingers tangle in it, pulling. What a beauty you are, she says, smiling, and only you hear the gluttonous hunger in her praise. She is a wolf in the clothes of your mother, and her claws are caught in your hair. Such a beautiful child.

The second day, she feeds you bread. Slower, child, she chides you, laughing. Eat slower, or you'll choke. The idea seems to amuse her, this unmother, with her hungry eyes and her dead woman's clothes. You wonder what she sees when she looks at you. You know that you don't want to know.

The third day, she feeds you crumbs.

Perhaps she is a witch. Perhaps she is not. Either way, she is hungry. She devours every scrap of love in your house, licking the juice from her fingers and looking to you for more. She will eat you too, you realize, in spirit if not in fact. You have too much of your mother’s appearance, too much of your father’s love, too much that isn’t hers. She strips it from you with cold words and harsh labor, cracking open the bones of your joy to make her soup. Then she shares the soup with your father, and he, too, eats.

What's wrong? your father asks you. Ungrateful child, see how hard she works for you, how happy she makes me. Why are you so difficult? Don't you want your father to be happy? And he is, he is happy, that's the worst of it. You were not enough for him, but she is. He kisses her cheek, and she beams at him, her hands sharpening a knife—for the vegetables, child, for the meat, nothing more—

No one believes you.

You were dear once, but now you are a burden. You were a beauty, but now you wear rags. She gives you impossible tasks, and you complete them. You give her your obedience, then your silence, then your fear. Whatever you give her, it isn't enough. Lazy girl, sullen, ungrateful, underfoot –with these words, she makes you the stranger, until even your father sees you with poisoned eyes. When at last she sends you into the woods, he makes no protest. Neither do you. You are a good girl, everyone once said so, and perhaps the beasts won't kill you. Perhaps if you achieve this, she will love.

She won't, of course. Even there, her hunger pursues you: a huntsman's knife, a poisoned pool, the slow slaughter of a mazelike path. If she is a witch, her power transforms you. If she is not, you are equally lost. The brambles snatch at your ragged clothing, and the cold bites at your tender skin. She doesn't want you to return, you realize, not to her cottage, her palace, her inn. She has burned your home to cook a feast on the embers, and when she serves it to your father, she will fill no plate for you.

You lose your way first, and your hope after. Sometimes, you lose your life. But you do not lose your beauty, and that is what saves you. A man comes, a prince, with a hunger of his own—a gentler hunger, that tastes but does not consume. You startle at his kiss, distrustful, and he looks at you with pity in his eyes.

Come with me, dear one, your savior tells you. Be my wife.

You are a good girl, not a strong one, but there is power in being my wife. She herself has taught you that. You embrace your savior and thank him, weeping like the child you should still be. Then you take his hand and his offer, and together, you leave the beasts behind.

Perhaps she is punished. Perhaps she is not. Either way, she never leaves you. Her shadow is a cloak upon your back, a drape above your children’s cradles. As she gave you nothing, you give them too much. As she drove you out, you do not let them leave. Your teeth are not for tearing, but neither were your mother’s, and a wolf came for you all the same. You burn yourself beside their beds like a candle, but her shadow only grows. In every illness, every mishap, you feel claws in your hair, someone waiting to take what is yours.

What's wrong? your husband asks you. Silly woman, see how hard I work for you, how happy you make me. Why are you so difficult? Don't you want to be happy? And you do, you do want it, more than anything. You build a new family. You count your blessings. Like Orpheus, you try not to look back.

But in your dreams, a woman comes hungry—her arms full of welcome, her smile full of teeth:

My child, my sweet one, my darling.

Welcome home.

#my writing #folktales #fairy tales #poison apple zine #the wicked stepmother

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