#Back at it again with his cute blue house coat

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Nine

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence. Medical chart from a SANE EXAM. Simon's family history, trauma. Brief sexual content. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Heavy emotions. Scars. Reader in pain. Hurt/comfort. Kate is a dog with a bone. Penny is cute. POV switches. Simon and Johnny make a discovery, and a promise.

You can’t breathe.

The air is too thin, too tight, and you stand, silent, in the foyer of the home that you’ve been invited to.

A clock ticks on the wall. You count each second, waiting. 

You should leave. You should run. 

Simon’s footsteps echo above your head, already up the stairs with your first bag and work backpack.

He said to make yourself at home, but you can’t move.

The foyer is the foyer of a family. There is a hall tree with little shoes scattered beneath it, a tiny, pink backpack hanging on the hook. Too many wellies to count, all in pastel colors, matching a small yellow and green rain jacket that’s folded on the stairs. There’s a black hoodie, a black jacket, and a green on the coat rack, hung haphazardly with a toss. Men’s sizes, and you notice two pairs of trainers next to one pair of black boots, and two crayons hide, peeking out from under the bench, one blue, one purple, so worn down they’re almost half gone.

A home. A family. 

“Hey, so up-“ You flinch. The jolt has you stumbling, one misstep over another, and he tenses, prepared to steady you, careful hand outstretched, but not encroaching.

“Sorry.” You shouldn’t be here. 

“No, I’m sorry. I know better.” You blink, and the silence is heavy, weighted down like bricks at the bottom of a river. 

He’s still wearing the mask. 

 “Can I… give you a tour?”

“S-sure.”

You lose your breath again in the kitchen.

Simon turns away to the sink, loading dishes into the dishwasher as you stare at the fridge and its collage with a tight chest. It’s covered; photos, invitations, magnets, notes, finger painted masterpieces. You step closer, studying, noticing the way they all fit together, mix matched perfectly, and even in the pictures, the three of them glow effortlessly, too sweet and smiling, happy. Together. A family. A perfect unit.

Your nose tingles, and you blink back the tears that fight forward, wiping away the two that escape and trickle down your cheek. You don’t know why it overwhelms you, why it fills you with grief.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To have a family, like this? 

Get it together. You’re a guest in their house.

It’s too much, and you chastise yourself for getting so emotional over nothing, over something stupid.

You need to be alone. 

Dry sandpaper scrubs the back of your throat when you swallow. “Simon?” He turns, concerned, glancing at the fridge and then back to you, drying his hands on a towel.  

“What is it?”

“Can I… I’m sorry. I’m… tired.” You try to explain your needs but it’s awkward on your mouth, uncomfortable. His expression creases with sympathy.

“Of course, c’mon. I’ll show you.”

“Alright, one more step.”

“’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, bun. You’re alright.” In the back of your mind, you’re registering Simon’s warmth, the wilted lean that has you tipped into him, slow steps on the stairs, one by one as you fight to stay upright. He’s warm, and pillowy… the kind of comfort you could sink into, disappear inside for a while. It sounds so… nice.

But your shoulder is throbbing. The pain combined with the emotions swirling about in your heart has you on the verge of tears, top teeth dug into your lip, and your molars grind against one other with each step.

“It’s just at the end of the hall.”

You shouldn’t be doing this. Even now, after agreeing, getting in the car, getting yourself here… the desire to bolt runs hot under your skin, buzzing inside your skull, an insistent need.

You’re in their house. Where they live. With their baby. 

What if he comes back? What if he hurts them? 

“Hey.” Simon says your name slowly, ducking down to get your attention. Fuck.

“Sorry, I’m just… exhausted.”

“I’m sure. It’s right here.” He opens the door to a room, flicking on a light switch. The walls are a sage green, a gentle hue that matches the bedspread, framed photos organized into a gallery wall, pictures of smiles and laughter, a tiny Penny in Simon’s naked arms, a candid shot of Johnny in full military regalia, the three of them together somewhere, hiking, with Pen snuggled in a papoose on Johnny’s chest. The bed is the centerpiece, a massive king size piled with pillows, and it looks so inviting, so soft that you want to collapse into it right here and now.

“Wow.” It’s the best you can do, considering the screeching agony vibrating in your shoulder. You try to breathe through it, but the pain only shortens your draw.

“Yeah, it’s our old bed. Very comfortable.” He puts your other duffel down by the dresser, and you try not to dwell on the idea of it once being theirs, where they slept, where they’ve loved one another, held each other, their child, their- “It’s got its own bathroom, just through here.” He’s on the other side of the room, turning on a light that is far too bright, and you squint, jerking away with a gasp. Are you getting a migraine too? “Shit, sorry.” The room spins. You stumble towards the bed, limbs heavy, head full of cement, wooziness blurring your immediate sight. You’re disjointed, a mess of pain and disorientation, and you cover your eyes with a palm.

“Sorry, I think… I think I’m getting a headache. My shoulder-“ it slips out before you can stop yourself, and even with your eyes closed, you know Simon is staring at you, picking you apart with his eyes.

“Your shoulder?” You’re on a runaway train now. It has no brakes. No destination. It just barrels down the tracks, unable to stop for rational thought or pleas of mercy. It has no plan, and it does not heed you. You’re helpless. Hopeless. Lost. Reaching out for a light in the dark, a rope, a life vest, and a sob breaks through to the surface.

“It really hurts.”

“It hurts?” His voice cuts, tone worried. “Which one?” You use your good side to point, shakily.

“I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.” You try to tell him, try to explain that you don’t mean to cry, or be emotional. You don’t mean to be making a fuss. You’re not supposed to be a problem.

A warm hand lays atop your thigh, thumb rubbing into your scrub pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re in pain. You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Your vision blurs, thick with tears, and fingers gently probe along your shoulder cuff. When you flinch, he swears. “Shhh, alright. Easy.” He’s gentling a spooked horse, carefully feeling along where you ache as you cry through it, unable to stop. “I’m going to go get some ice. We can… wrap it up, if you think that will help?”

“Ye-yeah, okay.” His steps fade, and you try to get your top off, sliding the arm that doesn’t hurt underneath your turtleneck, which is confined by the rigidity of your scrub top.

When you try the other one, the pain is so sharp, a cry bursts from your lips, and Simon sprints up the stairs. How did it get so much worse between the beginning of your shift and now? 

“What happened?”

“I can’t… I can’t get my shirts off.” You uselessly tug at the hem, eyes half open, letting it fall from your fingers, stuck in a loop, frantic movements matching the increasing pace of your lungs.

“Can I help?” His face is lined in concentration, and you spot an icepack on the bed now, with a sling, and a wrap. They’re prepared. Must come home with a fair number of injuries. “Bun, are you with me?” You sniffle and nod. What choice do you have? What choice do you ever have? The pain is too much. It’s all too much, and it boils over until you need to get the shirts off, not caring that it will expose you, or show Simon the very details you’re always trying to hide. You’re too far lost now, too far gone.

If you’re here, in their home, shouldn't you let them see? Shouldn't you let them know? 

The truth is terrifying, the reality of the trust you have in them. You know Simon won’t hurt you, instinctively. You feel safe here, in their home, their old bed, and when he looks at you, you show him, just for a second, the fractured mirror that is your reflection. You show him the pain and the rage and the fear, you give him everything. You shove the girl in the mirror forward, you force her into the sun and you hold her face to the light, trying not to sob as she screams at you in protest.

Just for a second.

“Okay.” He nods, and then cups your cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You nod with tears that sting, and then you slowly pull away, slipping back into yourself, hiding the girl in the mirror away, making more promises to her that you’re not sure you’re going to keep.

“We’re going to put this one,” He slowly, carefully lifts the arm with the bad shoulder until it’s resting on his own, “right here. That alright?” A whimper builds, but you give him another nod, breathing through the anguish. There are a million little needles in your shoulder, all stabbing you over and over, ripping and gnawing at the cartilage, or the bone, or the muscle… you can’t be sure. “I’m going to bring your scrub top up now. Is this okay?” his fingers peel it from the turtleneck, and when he gets to your head, you incline your neck, more tears rushing forth.

“Yeah.” You whisper, a tired, pained moan, falling from your lips without permission.

“I know it hurts; I know. Almost there, try to breathe.” He soothes you, and the top slides towards him along your arm. He pulls it free, throwing it on the floor somewhere, his hands returning to your thighs.

“Sorry.” It’s automatic, ingrained. A reaction to pain, to fear, to the idea of being a burden, something that haunts you, every day. He ignores it.

“Ready for the next?” The turtleneck comes less easy, but the two of you are in sync like dance partners. The pain shoots up your arm when you move your neck again, and Simon wipes a few tears from your cheek, carefully leaning you back into the pillows and pulling the comforter down.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, the raw edge of surprise, horror, you’re sure, and you close your eyes. You can't look at him, when you know what he sees. You know what you look like. A roadmap of foolishness. Of weakness. You know the scars are plainly on display, still raised, still ugly. Like you.

He says nothing, only sits at your side, bed dipping with his weight. “I’m going to take your shoes off too, okay?” He narrates and asks for permission with each touch, pulling your sneakers free, satisfying thunk of each one hitting the floor, and then moves on to sliding the ice pack underneath you, wrapping it firmly but not too tight, ensuring it stays in place. He’s tender and slow, thoughtful, your eyes fighting to stay closed, brain and body starting to drift off into uncomfortable sleep. “Not yet, sweetheart.” There’s a rattle, two pills being deposited into your hand.

“What are these?"

“Paracetamol.” He turns the bottle, label out, word coming into focus enough to be verified, and you swallow them down with the glass of water in his outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” The croak stays lodged in your throat, and his eyes crinkle, the sign of a smile.

“Get some rest.” It’s comfort he gives you, leaning forward, pressing mask covered lips to your forehead. Comfort that doesn’t elicit a flinch or a sense of wariness, and you bask in the shine of the sun on your skin, holding tight to it, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

“Banky.” Pen demands, hands outstretched.

“No binky, it’s lunch time. Lunch.” Simon makes the sign for lunch, L shaped pointer finger and thumb, circling the corner of his mouth. He does it a few times, accompanied with the word again and again until Penny huffs and leans back, eyes wide. “You try. You try, lunch.”

“No!” She shrieks, and he shushes her, scattering some banana puffs across her tray.

“Shhh Pen. Bun is sleeping, remember?”

“Bunny seep?” She gives him the sign for sleep, or her sign at least, a palm dragging down her face followed by very dramatic closing lids. “Seep?”

“Yes, sleeping.” Simon makes the sign to acknowledge she was correct. “Good job.” He gives her a thumbs up, and she smiles, sweetness melting away some of the tense worry that's taken up in his heart.

“Puff?” She holds one out to him, but he shakes his head, pointing at her mouth.

“For you. Eat them, eat your puffs.” He signs along with the words, and she mimics him, food in hand, eyes lighting up when she finally makes it in her mouth.

He glances towards the stairs. You’re in the guest room, far enough away that Penny’s noise shouldn’t wake you, but still he tries to keep her preoccupied, distracted from making a fuss.

He wants you to get as much sleep as possible, this morning’s discovery of your shoulder unsettled him more than he’s frankly comfortable with, and the image of your swollen, battered face and neck leers and taunts. 

She’s safe now. She’s here. 

“Dada.” Pen calls, and he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips across his baby’s soft skin, wispy curls tickling his nose. 

“Love you, baby girl.” He signs it too, and she beams.

“Luh.” It’s supposed to be love, and though the word is a struggle, the sentiment is the same. He doesn’t care that she’s not quite got it yet, he’ll take every word, every syllable he can get. These moments, each moment with his child, Johnny’s child, theirs… is a gift, one he never thought he’d have until Johnny. A privilege.

His phone vibrates with a text message.  

>Simon

>Give me a ring when you get a chance. On the black cell.  

“Thought you were on vacation?” Kate sighs, click clack of keys echoing in the background.

“I am, but if I’m too idle I start to go crazy. The wife likes it when I have a project.” Simon pauses, cocking his head. Penny’s feet kick in the highchair, baby spoon banging against the plastic tray.

“Hang on, Kate.” He drags a kitchen chair over in front of her so he can sit, pinning the phone between his shoulder and chin to twist the lid off the applesauce pouch. “Shhh, here you go." Penny gurgles with a grin at the taste of the fruit, and he smiles back at her. "So, what’s the new project then?”

“The nurse.” Simon’s eyes dart to the floor above his head.

“It’s not a good time.”

“I can talk, you can listen.” She brushes him off, sipping something with ice and then continuing. “I found it hard to believe that a civilian would be able to scrub their footprint like this, so I did a little digging. The more digging I did, the worse my fixation became.” Like a dog with a bone.Simon holds his breath. “I just needed a key, and with those photos you provided, well, things just started unraveling.”

“Kate.” He growls because he can’t manage anything else. He’s trying to keep himself still, heart pounding in his chest. Penny coos, like she notices the shift in her dad’s demeanor, and he immediately attends her, thumbing at a smear of applesauce on her cheek.

“I found a SANE exam from a few years ago. Small hospital in southern Colorado, right over the border from Texas. Patient’s name is Jane Doe, but the photos are almost an exact match.” His stomach lurches, dark clouds shadowing his vision, world splitting into blood and rage. Violence.

He didn’t want to be right.

He wanted to it to be anything, anything but this.

Who? 

Is it the same person that choked you? Beat you? Tore your shoulder damn near out of its socket? 

His gaze drifts to Penny.

They'll need to loop Price in, immediately. 

“Can you send it to me?”

“It’s already in your email.” She speeds past, eagerly. “There’s more. I used the photo to run facial recognition on archives in neighboring states and got a host of hits from Texas. You’ll have to visually confirm, but if I’m right, I’ve got positive ID on your girl.”

“How?”

“School. She graduated high school a year before the rest of her class, ended up with a full scholarship to Rice University in Houston, Texas. Went on to get a bioscience degree and graduated from Rice early.” Pride flutters beneath his ribs, honeyed and heavy. Their smart girl. “She ends up at a different school for pre-med but drops out before the first year ends. Not sure what happened but she started an accelerated nursing program, and breezed through it. You should see her transcripts. I don’t think this girl has gotten less than an A+ on anything since kindergarten.”

“Send them over.”

“Already done. After that, she starts work at a local hospital, and then… nothing. Her paper trail stops. Her job disappears. She’s a ghost except for the sealed court records, and now the Jane Doe medical chart, but that didn’t happen until later. The aliases she’s used over the past few years, they’re in the wind. It’s really quite impressive. She’s either got a connection somewhere, or she’s CIA.” Kate is animated, talking quickly, and he interrupts her to get to the question that’s weighing on him, brushing off the latter immediately. You’re not a honeypot. He spots those a mile away.

“You know her name, then. Her birth name?”

“I do.” She’s silent for a moment, and then she gives it softly. First, middle and last.

He closes his eyes. He tries to imagine you as a girl, on the playground, playing tags with other kids, all of them shouting your name, or as a teenager, in a fight with a parent, one of them yelling your name. He pictures you as a uni student, with your friends, laughing and having a good time somewhere, one of them hollering your name over too loud music. You’ve had a whole life with that name, a whole story. You were a person with that name, and he tries to imagine the way it would sound on your tongue, on Johnny’s, even his.

You’re a ghost now, will you let them bring you into the light?

Will you let them help you reclaim it; the way Johnny helped him reclaim his own?

Kate subtly coughs on the other end of the line.

“Thanks, Kate.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll keep digging. Check your email when you get a chance.”

“Will do.”

“Oh! And the hotel, I sent that paperwork to your email as well.” He thanks her, again, tells her to try to enjoy her time off and hangs up just as Penny starts to fidget, unhappy with being in the highchair for so long without attention.

“Alright, lamb. Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He pulls her free, showering kisses all over her cheeks and neck that make her giggle. “Can’t be wearin’ your applesauce and pajamas over to John and Lou’s, can you?”

Johnny is anxious. Simon can see it a mile away, even before he gets in the room, he notices how he is fidgets, unspent energy and too much time to dwell culminating in an unsettled state.

So, when he kisses him first thing, he makes it long and slow. He drags Johnny’s bottom lip between his teeth, carefully taking his time until he’s sure his partner is half hard beneath his hospital gown and blanket.

“Si.” Johnny groans, and he relents, pulling away to cradle his face between his hands, taking him in, every line, every fleck of gold in his blue eyes, soaking up the healing, healthy glow that glimmers in his skin.

His doctor says it won’t be long now, until he can come home, and Simon is counting the days.

To have everyone, under one roof, feels like a fever dream.

“Missed you.” Johnny noses into his neck, and Simon reciprocates with a kiss to his temple, his cheek.

“Missed ye too.” He pauses, squeezing his hand. “Pen?”

“Alright. Grumpy this morning. Think she wanted to see you.” She did, he knows it, but he tries not to pile it on. Johnny knows their daughter misses him, as much as he misses her. They’re two peas in a pod, best friends, halves to a whole. They’re both suffering. “Went with Lou and John fine. I’ll bring her in the morning.”

“Good.” He nods, tilting his chin for another kiss, and Simon gives it without hesitation, basking in the warmth and familiar feel  of his skin.

When he clears his throat, he pulls away with a sigh. “How is she?”

“In pain. Shoulder is nearly torn out of the socket, and her neck is in poor shape. I had to help get her into bed, she couldn’t get her shirt off. Emotionally she’s… still got the walls up, but she let them slip for a second last night, before she let me help her. And I caught her crying in front of the fridge. Think the photos of Pen got to her somehow.” His stomach twists, new, horrifying possibility dawning on him. Do you have a child somewhere? 

“Did she get any sleep?”

“She hadn’t come down when I left to take Penny, so I assume so.”

“Good. She needs it.” Simon agrees. After injury, after trauma, body and mind need so much more care. More rest, more nutrients, water, protein. More love.

“Kate called.” He bites the bullet, fingers flexing against his knee. “She found a loose end and tugged it.” Johnny straightens. He’s every bit the solider, even laid up in bed. Waxy, soft features turn razor sharp and focused, except instead of his practiced steadiness, he’s chomping at the bit.

“Tell me.”

Simon does. He tells him everything Kate said, almost verbatim. Johnny’s face changes from worried to enraged when he finally gets to the medical chart.

“No.” Johnny’s whisper is faint, thin, papyrus. Brittle and broken, almost washed away, and Simon doesn’t blame him. The chart is horrific for them, was horrific for him earlier, turned his stomach until he thought he’d be sick.

He’s killed. He’s tortured. But to be there when Johnny revealed the handprinted tender skin on your neck, to be there when you cried out in pain last night, when he saw the scars on your body, the cigarette burns that were so familiar, to look at these photos and know that you’ve been brutalized beyond belief, makes his vision run red and his heart ache.

There’s a ghost in these photos. A different girl, but the same, a glimpse of what he saw last night. Still their bunny, their girl. He can see her, through the broken blood vessels and compound forearm fracture. He can see her past the swollen cheekbone and broken nose, the fresh burns on your stomach and torso. The doctor’s notes indicate that you said you were mugged, and sexually assaulted, but refused to finish the SANE exam and took off.

He's not surprised. 

The first time he saw the burns on your naked skin, he swore he could his mother’s screams, and for the hundredth time today, Simon thinks of her. He wonders, if she ever went to a hospital, if she ever begged anyone to help her, or them. He wonders if someone saw what was happening, how she was slowly disappearing, sinking in on herself, and tried to help. He wonders if she felt as alone as you seem to. If she too, became a ghost.

He looks at these photos and cannot fight the pain, the memories.

“Oh, Si.” Johnny cups his cheek, thumb soothing softly across his skin, trying to wipe away the tears that fall. He can’t stop them, not now, and Johnny does not ask, only holds him through it, lets him cry into his hands, pain and suffering of a small, frightened boy coming out of his body in broken sobs.

He won’t fail you. Not like he did her.

After minutes turn long, he takes a deep breath, pressing his lips to Johnny’s palm, and utters a promise as cold as death. 

“We’ll kill them. Whoever it is.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x soap #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader

[tvgals]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ IN EVERY UNIVERSE .

— when traveling across multiple universes, miles learns the two of you are together in every single one .

e1610! miles morales x black! fem! reader .

miles pants as he’s in a universe that looks eerily similar to his own, but he knows it’s not his due to the sound of his own voice ringing from his bedroom. miles soundly walks through the house — going unnoticed due to his invisibility — and peeks through his bedroom door to see you and miles sitting on his bed, you placing stickers on his face.

“just stay still!” you giggled, placing a heart sticker on his tip of his nose. “what are we doing this for again?” miles asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could but not being able to hide the amusement in his voice. “gotta take pictures of you for our scrap book, plus i can’t let these stickers go to waste.” you tell him, snapping a picture on your phone and smiling when looking at the results. “see! isn’t it cute?” you questioned your miles, a love struck look in his brown eyes.

-

the next universe was by far his favorite. miles walked around looking at the pictures that hung on the walls or were placed carefully on a table or shelf, it was pictures of you and him — about 10 years older — with two little kids, one boy one girl. miles was taken out of his train of thought when he heard the giggles of a little girl. he waited to make sure no one else was in the way and he poked his head in through the crack in the door, watching you put the little girl’s afro into two puffs held together with pink ribbons.

“is daddy gonna like my hair?” the girl asks you, looking up at you with curious eyes. “well i dunno. let’s go find out, yeah?” miles instinctively moved out of the way and watched you and the little girl walk into the room where older miles was, watching your daughter jump on the bed and ask — “do you like my hair?” just for him to respond with picking her up and telling her how much he loves it.

-

the last universe miles was able to travel to was interesting. in this universe, it was just you and him inside an assumed shared apartment. miles tip-toes down the hall to hear you laughing at something he said.

“miles, just put the mask on!” you tell him, a goofy grin on your face. “i’m trying! the wand is too small.” miles complains, struggling to get the mask on his face. “here, lemme do it.” you say, taking the wand from his hand and applying it yourself, watching miles look down at you with love. “there.” you say, proud of your work. “now, let me do your nails!” you grin, watching miles’ eyes go wide.

“like paint them?” miles asks, following you with his eyes while you walk around the bathroom and gather the clippers and clear nail polish. “kinda. it’s a clear coat and it helps with breakage and stuff.” you tell him, coaxing him to sit on the toilet seat. “it won’t show?” miles asks, sadness in his voice. “well why are you sad about it?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “i just wanna show everyone what good of a nail artist my girlfriend is.” miles says, a dopey grin on your face. “we can do blue afterwards, i promise.” you say to him, smiling right back.

-

and this universe, miles was finally home. he knocks on your door, being let in by your mom.

“what brings you over here, miles?” your mom grinned, leaning against the door. “is it okay if i stay over? mom and dad are working late and i don’t wanna be alone.” miles says, twiddling his thumbs. “of course! rio and jeff know you’re here, right?” your mom asked, letting miles in. “of course. thank you.” miles says, practically racing up the stairs and into your room.

“miles!” you exclaimed, seeing him walk into your room. “hey, y/n!” he exclaimed back, catching you with a grin when you threw yourself into a hug. “where’ve you been?” you asked, checking his face to make sure he was okay. “had to stay over at school, just some project stuff.” miles shrugged. “oh, and i brought some face masks and a new notebook!” miles says, holding up the bag excitedly. “what’s the notebook for?” you ask, flipping thought the pages.

“i thought we could take up scrapbooking.” miles grins.

-

a/n this was based off of an idea i saw on my feed and i can’t find it 😞

TAGLIST ;— @looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @kisminarii @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @princesslilisworld @mxspiderman2099 @marcelineormars @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @planetspiderzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie

#myatalks🫡 #black reader #im black #blkshoyo #e1610 miles #miles morales x you #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #atsv x reader #atsv x black reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv fanfiction #across the spiderverse

[beansprean]

time for exposition? no, time to look at him in his cute new outfit!

My Familiar’s Ghost Part 66

Masterpost

See new pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of vampire Guillermo sitting on a couch for a talking head. He is wearing black chinos, a red v-neck knit sweater with gold threading around the cuffs and neck, a gray and white button up with a heart pattern, black bat-shaped collar clips with gold trim and a gold chain, and new round glasses with gold arms and nose bridge. The lower third reads "Guillermo de la Cruz" with 'de la Cruz' crossed out followed by "The Great, New Vampire." Guillermo grins widely at the camera, fangs on full display, and holds his hands out in a ta-da pose. He says, "Sooo... I'm a vampire! For real!! I can fly, I can turn into a bat, and I even got to move into a real bedroom! Guillermo the Great is excited to get started on eternity!" 1b. Repeat, smaller panel. Guillermo sits with a giddy little smile, fists clenched excitedly over his lap, as he listens to the director offscreen who asks "So you don't have any memories of what your body was doing while you were separated?" 1c. Repeat. Guillermo drops his hands to his thighs and looks upward, smile turning a bit self-depreciating. He answers, "Um. No... I assume it was a lot of slaughtering, so. No loss, right?" 1d. Large panel, Guillermo waist-up in the bottom corner as his gaze goes far away, smile still in place but a little bit sad. Slightly embarrassed. He says, "I remember doing the ritual with Nadja and... reaching out... and then I don't know. I think I was dreaming. I woke up in the fancy room and... I was back! And a vampire!" Behind him are faded flashes of previous events: Nadja and Dolly sitting at the table while they explain the ritual; Guillermo and his soul reaching hands out to each other; Guillermo and his soul, who has taken the form of Nandor, pressing their palms together; the traffic light smashing to the ground and turning red; Guillermo pulling Nandor up into a kiss.

2a. Zoom out, Guillermo sitting on the couch. Offscreen, the director asks, "You don't think you're a ghost possessing a vampire?" Guillermo quickly straightens, head popping up and fingers lacing together over his lap. He replies, "I considered that! But possession feels different. When I was possessing objects in the house, it was like putting on a coat. I was me inside something else." 2b. Close up on Guillermo, the background turning into a softer version of his ghostly blue. He presses both hands to his chest and closes his eyes with a contented smile, continuing, "Now, I feel...complete." 2c. Zoom out again, angle slightly further left. Guillermo furrows his brow with a slight frown, one hand dropping to his lap and the other gesturing vaguely in the air as he explains, "I didn't realize how much not having a soul empties you out. But I've reconnected to it now, somehow, and to...um. Well." 2d. Close up on Guillermo as the director offscreen finishes his sentence: "Nandor?" Guillermo glowers darkly in response, shadows taking over his face as the background turns into rolling black clouds with angry strikes of lightning. /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #nandermo #mlm #vampire guillermo #guillermo de la cruz #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

[avrizl]

sometimes i wonder when you sleep,

are you ever dreaming of me?

- mike schmidt x fem!reader

- smut, dom!mike sub!reader

- you’re abby’s babysitter and you have feelings for mike, but he doesn’t know it

- authors note ; this is something short to hold you guys off as i’m writing something big that will most likely have multiple parts ( wink wink )

- word count ; 3.3k ( i am sorry )

- mentions ; there is a slight age gap ( 19 & 23 )

it was a late friday night as the wind was blowing and the stars were shining in the sky. you hear a jingle at the door and you know it’s mike coming home from the pizzeria again. you could tell he hated working the night shifts, and hated that he had to make you stay all night so you could watch abby.

he opens the door and hangs his coat on the door and kicks his steel toe work boots off exhaustedly. he throws his keys and wallet on the kitchen table and immediately slouches into the arm chair directly across from you laying on the couch. he asks, “did you sleep at all?” you look back at him, “kind of.. i’m not the greatest with falling asleep either way.” he throws his head back slightly in annoyance with himself because he feels like a burden keeping you here.

you direct your focus towards the kitchen, “i made dinner, there’s leftovers in a blue tupperware in the fridge if you want any. abby’s asleep and she ate dinner tonight.” mikes eyes soften at your gesture, “thank you, that means a lot and i’m glad she ate dinner.. what did you do to get her to eat?” he laughs. you respond, “i made spaghetti, you told me it’s one of her favorites..” you smile as you say this wrapped in a blanket now sitting up.

you stand up saying, “i guess i should start going-“ mike stands up with you in unison, “you don’t have to go.. you could stay if you like, abby likes when you’re here y’know?” you smile at his words, “that’s very sweet of you, but i wouldn’t want to be a bother and i have some things to tend to..” mike responds with a slight frown and dissapointment in his voice, “that’s alright i understand..” you say to him, “you need me to come over same time tomorrow?” mike answers, “same time tomorrow.” with a heartwarming smile. you never realized how cute of a smile he had until now. you gather your things and toss on your coat and beat up sneakers as you walk out the door.

mike heats up the dinner you made and happily enjoys it. he always loves when you make him dinner or lunch. he watches you pull out of the driveway and drive home. he starts to clean up after his meal and he then goes to check on abby, and she’s sound asleep. he thinks you’re an angel sent from heaven because she never eats dinner or goes to sleep under his authority. he thanks you every day for helping with her.

it’s the next morning and you wake up around 8:00 am, your alarm is blaring in your ear as you groggily rub your eyes and slap your clock a few times before it stops. you get ready to get some things done. you lace up your running shoes and zip up your windbreaker and tie your hair into a tight ponytail. as you’re on your run, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you check to see what it was, it’s mike.

you read the message and it says, “abby’s going to be sleeping over a friends tonight, you don’t need to come anymore.” you frown at the text, wishing you could still go so you could see mike. you respond with, “aw okay, i was looking forward to see you guys :(“ you then slide your phone back into your pocket and finish up your run. when you walk into your house, you check your phone once again to see a text from mike, “would you like to go do something.. like go out to dinner?” you jump around your living room and screech as you toss your phone onto the couch. you collect yourself and respond, “i would love to :)”

you start to get ready for dinner, even though you’re claiming it as a date. you take an everything shower and scrub your body with your signature scent until that’s the only thing you smell. as you step out of the shower you start your skincare and haircare. your face is covered in suds while your hair soaks up the mask you put in it. you dry off and wear your cutest set of underwear. it’s a black lacy bra with matching underwear that has colorful flowers on it. you rummage through your closet to find out what to wear and your eyes land on this scandalous black dress. it’s a halter that’s mid thigh length, covered in glitter, and very form fitting.

you text mike, “are you picking me up? if so what time?” he responds almost immediately, “yeah, i’ll be there in a half hour alright?” “sounds good to me :)” you start your makeup and you turn on your record player to get you hyped up for dinner. it’s the 1989 taylor’s version vinyl, it’s your favorite. the song suburban legends comes on and you are singing your heart out as you dust your face with blush and highlighter and before you know it, mikes in your driveway honking to say he’s here. you slip on your black heels and fix your hair quick and grab your clutch and walk out the door. you step into his car and he just stares at you, you respond? “what?” while chuckling. he just stares at you for a little bit longer, “i uh- you just look beautiful..” your cheeks are adorned with blush as you smile and look away. “you clean up nice too mike.” he replies, “thanks..” with a chuckle.

you guys drive to the spot you’re having dinner at and you think it’s amazing. it’s this high end restaurant on the west side of town and it’s known for its amazing food & drinks. the two of you take your seats and start to look at the menu. your server directs you to the alcoholic beverages, even though you’re not of age. you think to yourself, what they don’t know won’t hurt them but just in case you order a diet coke and mike orders wine. he laughs and looks over to you, “you thought about getting something right?” you smile, “yeah.. kidding! i’m only kidding” he laughs back at you, “you know i dont care right? i mean well.. it’s not the smartest idea but who cares.. teenagers always do dumb stuff, anyways what are you getting to eat?” you skim the menu, “i don’t know.. i’ve never been here and there’s so much to choose from!” your eyes are caught at the sight of seafood pasta. you ask mike, “what are you gonna get?” he thinks, “i don’t know either.. i’m indecisive.. maybe i’ll get the steak, you think that sounds good?” you reply awkwardly, “well um- i don’t eat beef.. so i would disagree..” he awkwardly replies, “oh sorry, i didn’t know” you say, “there’s no need to be sorry..” you both chuckle.

fast forward after dinner..

you’re in his car with the light on the radio turned down so you can hear each other, “tonight was amazing.. thank you for taking me out.” you say pushing your hair behind your ear smiling. “it’s no problem, i had a great time tonight too.” your mind is racing as you think of something to ask him and he can tell. “what’s got you so worked up?” your clammy hands fidget with your rings “i uhm- uh..-“ he questions, “hey are you alright?” as he places a reassuring hand on your knee moving his thumb back and forth. you look up from your hands and look into his beautiful hazel eyes, and he smiles at you with them. you smile back and mike continues, “you wanna head inside?” you nod in response. “alright cmon.”

he takes the keys out of the ignition and comes around to your door to open it and lead you out by holding your hand. you take your keys and press it into the lock and turn. as soon as you get into your house you kick off your heals to put your aching feet at ease and you throw your clutch and keys onto your table. mike responds with unlacing his dress shoes and placing them near the door and hanging up his coat. “i forgot how nice of a home you have, it’s very cozy and welcoming.” you sigh as you sit down on the couch, “thank you mike..” he sits down next to you on the couch leaning back and slightly man- spreading placing his hands on each of his knees. you stand up and your dress being unbelievably short, mike stares. you walk over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and you ask, “you need anything? water? a snack?” you guys have been out and about all around town after dinner and you are both exhausted. “a glass of water would be nice, thank you.” you bring his glass of water and slightly bend down to place it on the coffee table, and this dress isn’t anything short of revealing. mike glances quickly at your cleavage but looks away even quicker. you notice this and you cock an eyebrow at him and he immediately becomes red. you sit back down next to him and make small talk as you sip your water. “how has abby been recently, like with therapy?” “she’s been doing good, she likes her therapist so that’s good..” “i’m glad mike.. i’m happy she’s doing good.” you go to get up once more and he follows you and grabs your wrist, “wait where are you going?” the look in his eyes captivates you, “i’m just going to get changed, i’ll be quick i promise.” you give him a reassuring smile.

you come back to the living room in short pj shorts and a big t-shirt that hangs off of your shoulder. he stares at you in awe. “has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” he says with a light shake in his voice. “wh-what? what did you say?” he answers, “you heard what i said. has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? you’re so perfect y/n.. the way your hair just always perfectly falls to frame your face.. your beautiful eyes.. your perfect body..” this makes you blush like crazy, and he sees your face painted maroon. he turns to you and smiles, “i know how you feel about me, and i feel the same way. ever since you started babysitting abby.” you stutter at his words, “mike.. you really feel the same way i do?” his eyes dart around the room looking for words to say, "yes, why would i say it if i didn't?" your cheeks are immediately a rosey shade after he said this. mike starts to lean in closer, and he does the thing you've been dreaming of, he kisses you. you melt into his lips and his hands move to the small of your back and he pulls your closer. you don't believe this is actually happening, wondering if its all some sick dream your mind put on to torture you. you both pull away from the kiss staring at each other with stars in your eyes.

mike cups your face in his big calloused hands, "you're a really good kisser.." he chuckles out. you giggle and look away in response. he pulls your face to look at him, "you're a really special girl y'know that right?" he kisses you once more and your stomach is flipping and twisting in every possible way. his lips are pure bliss. he then suddenly grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder. you're surprised at his quick movements and strength, and its addictive. you protest by flailing around and hitting his back, but not hard enough to cause pain. you guys reach your bedroom and he flops you down onto your bed. he is now hovering over you with a smirk on his face with some kind of bad intent. his hands dart to your sides and he starts tickling you and you squirm and start yelling and laughing, "mike! stop i-it! i literally think i'm gonna die!" your giggles and pleads fill the room. he finally stops about after 5 minutes and your chest is heaving up and down desperate for a deep breath of air.

he creeps close to your ear, whispering, "the outfit you wore out to dinner made you look so good, made me want to find out what was underneath." mike plants a kiss on your neck and you shudder at this as you feel his hot breath on your neck. "mi-ke.." you plead as you feel him slowly slip off your large t-shirt. this reveals a black lacy bra underneath, "all for me hm? you wore this because you knew you were going to get ruined by me?" you whimper at his seductive words. his hands are all over your body, and his mouth is finding any place he can leave a mark on. you're squirming around at his delicate yet desperate touch. he whines, "fuck.. your body is so beyond perfect, it's even better than i imagined.." he's basically drooling at this point. his kisses trail down to your lower stomach and he looks up at you with begging eyes, this makes you want him even more. his hands are on your hips and your hands are in his hair. he kisses along your inner thighs but stops, and you're baffled. "wa-wait please don't stop." mike is now level with your cunt and he says, "i want you to beg for it. if you want me so bad you can beg for it." you moan at his words, "pl-please mike.. i'll be good i promise. need you so bad.." you babble out. "if you're such a good girl, on your knees." you comply almost immediately. you start to undo his belt buckle and he grabs you chin so your vision is directed towards him. "i didn't tell you what to do, did i? that's what i thought." you want him so badly you're aching for him, and his touch.

you hair is bunched up into a makeshift ponytail as you're bobbing up and down on him and slightly gagging, but only when you take all of him into your mouth. he's groaning and tipping his head backwards as he whispers out curses and praises, "oh my- fuhhckkk.. you feel so good, taking me so well." it's not long before he's telling you he's close. as he says this, you take him fully one last time and this sends him over the edge, causing him to release in your mouth. he strokes you face lovingly looking down at you shuddering, "you're such a good girl, my good girl.." as he wipes spit away from the corner of your mouth. as you take time to collect yourself after what just happened, he's gently stroking your hair. he's so unbelievably sweet and caring. he's always been like this, ever since you two first met. as you're calmed down he asks, "you alright?" with a darling smile, "yes i'm alright, thank you for being so considerate." he plants a kiss on your forehead and wraps his arms around you tightly, squeezing you in the tightest hug you've ever had. you giggle as you roll around on your bed.

now he's hovering over you and whispers, "now it's my turn to make you feel good." his hand moves past the waistband of your dangerously short shorts and he rubs slow circles around your bud. you moan at his touch, "mike.. please don't stop" he abides to your words and his hands feel like heaven on your heated cunt. he then fully removes your shorts and sees you have matching panties to your bra, "oh so you really wanted me to sleep with me? you want me inside of you that badly?" you whimper out, "yes mike.. i want you so bad i'm so desperate for you.." your words drive him insane and he takes off your panties and throws them with the rest of your clothes on your carpeted floor. your slick cunt the is all he sees and he's lost his mind. "you're already this wet for me? you're such a slut, but you're all mine." you stutter out, "i'm all yours, nobody elses." your words make him feel like he's in total control of you, which he is. he slowly starts to slowly slide himself into you and your breath hitches at the sensation of him. he asks, "you okay? is this comfortable?" you nod because you know you wouldn't be able to form words with him inside of you. he slowly moves in and out of your tight walls as they contract against him, causing him to groan in pleasure. his movements speed up and your voices grow even louder. "mike-.. oh my god please don't stop, m' so close.." he never thought about stopping once. his fingers dig into your sides inevitable to leave dark purple marks the following morning. his movements get even sloppier and faster, "m' close too baby.. just keep taking me like the good girl you are.." your walls tighten around him one last time before all you feel is complete ecstasy. your head goes back into the pillows as your gripping onto anything you possibly can as you moan louder than you ever have. he keeps going overstimulating you and a few pumps later, he finishes inside you panting into the crook of your neck.

he runs to the bathroom quick to get you a warm washcloth to clean up and as he comes back with the washcloth, he picks out clean clothes from your dresser. you clean yourself and then change into the clothes he offers. he cleaned himself up in the bathroom, but he still has nothing on. you question, "do you need something to wear? i have that change of clothes you left here in case of anything remember?" he nods and you get up and rummage through your drawers to find them, and you finally do handing him the neatly folded stack of clothes. he changes into them and flops down face first onto your pillowy soft bed. you laugh and sit down next to him stroking his hair, "you did so good babes, i'm so proud of you.." your hand moves down to his back to rub it and lightly scratch it with your nails. "you also did amazing baby, you make me feel so good.." he sits up and moves over to you to give you a kiss. you're lost in the moment not being able to think of anything else but his lips attached to yours. you pull away from the kiss. "i love you mike." "i love you too y/n, so much." you get up and stretch, "do you need anything to eat or drink?" he shakes his head no but you head to the kitchen anyways.

you walk back into your room and you see mike just looking around, "i never really took in your room before, it's really cute and it matches your personality.. and who's this blonde girl on all these posters?" you reply shocked, "taylor swift obviously! she's the best!" mike responds, "oh yeah her, her music's alright i guess.." "you GUESS?!" you both start laughing as you set down 2 glasses water on your nightstand with a bag of chips and sweets. "you wanna head to bed?" mike asks. you answer, "sure, i am pretty tired." you crawl under your mound of blankets and mike follows. you slowly wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head into his chest and he wraps around you in return. you both slowly drift off to sleep.

tags - @silversword7000

authors note - thank you all for the support i've been receiving over the week! i'm greatful for all the likes and reblogs it makes me so happy you guys enjoy my work <33 much love to you all.

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fnaf #michael schmidt #mike schmidt fanfiction #mike schmidt x y/n #fnaf #i love him #the baby #the masses #feeding you guys #insanity #i love mike schmidt

[bigdumbbambieyes]

tw mentioned abuse

Billy always wakes up before his boyfriend and probably always will. But, he’s not complaining — he loves waking up in Steve’s bed, tangled up in the sheets as he blinks the sleep away from his eye. As always, he immediately turns his head and spots Steve there, his face pressed into his pillow as he sleeps soundly. The rising sun peeks through the curtains, spilling across his boyfriend, highlighting his dark hair a soft brown against the blue bedding.

Shuffling over, Billy presses a quiet kiss to Steve’s shoulder before untangling himself from the sheets and getting out of bed, pulling up the shorts he borrowed from the pretty boy as he heads to the bathroom—

And runs into Mrs. Harrington, who’s wrapped up in her house coat with rollers in her hair, cup of coffee in hand.

“Oh!” She gasps, jumping and spilling some of her coffee on the floor, grasping at the fabric of her housecoat over her chest as she stares at him. After the shock quickly wears off, she’s chuckling softly and sighs, “Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he smiles softly, glancing down at the floor where the coffee spilled, “Was just gonna use the bathroom.”

“Yeah, of course,” she hums, but makes this soft tsk sound of disappointment as she reaches up to brush a blond curl back from his forehead, where he knows the bruise from his father is. With sadness laced in her voice, she whispers, “Again?”

“It’s fine, Mrs. H,” Billy mumbles as he looks at her again, gently pulling away from her touch.

“No, it’s not,” she huffs, anger replacing that sadness as their eyes meet. Steve has her eyes. Kind, but fierce. Caring. Worried. “Oh, if I ever run into your father again, I won’t be nice like I was last time.” Before she knew what he did to Billy.

But Billy smiles again, a little more amused, because she’s 5’4’’ and could be blown away by the wind if it were too strong of a gust, but she’s got a fighting spirit. He knows where Steve got that from, now.

“I believe it,” he hums, touched by the way that Steve’s family cares and how they care about him. They don’t have to, but they do, and Billy doesn’t take it lightly or for granted.

She gives him that sorry smile and places her manicured hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze, “You know you’re welcome here whenever you need it, Billy. Lord knows we have more than enough room for one more.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly with a nod, “And, thanks. Again.”

Another nod and she pulls her hand away, saying, “Coffee pot’s on downstairs,” before she heads down the hallway, back to her room to get ready for the day.

Looking down at the coffee spill, he lets out a soft sigh and frowns. If that had been his dad and Billy had made him spill his coffee, he’d be knocked upside the head. Or worse.

But, not here. In the Harrington house, he’s welcomed and wanted and the coffee pot is left on for him. He has a space here, whenever he wants it. And he always does.

As he’s wiping up the small spill, the door to Steve’s bedroom opens and his boyfriend looks sleepy as hell — eyes half shut, hair a mess, lines pressed into his skin from the bed. Billy stands and smiles at him, filled with warmth and affection as Steve waddles over to him and wraps his arms around him, pressing a kiss to Billy’s cheek as he mumbles, “Morn’.”

“Morning, peanut,” Billy whispers, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his mouth, then another to his cheek.

“Coffee?” Steve whispers, pressing his nose to Billy’s cheek, his eyes shut again as he struggles to wake up. It’s annoyingly cute.

“Mhm,” Billy hums happily in agreement.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #it’s my personal mission to redeem steve’s parents #to me they’re caring but they’re busy #and steve understands that but ofc he has his hang ups and they all fight like a normal family but there’s still love at the very core #and billy is welcomed into that little family circle #he loves his future in-laws 🥰🥰 #bambiwrites

[dabislittlemouse]

tainted angel🪽 (pt.3)

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 4

ෆ DABI X HAWKS’ LITTLE SISTER

ෆ cw: Dabi being a flirt and a pervert, corruption kink, smut and dubcon incoming, stalking

The dead silence of the night is always something that calms me down. When the whole city is asleep, that’s when I head out, walking on random dark alleyways and empty parks with no destination in mind, just to clear my head.

Though this time there was a destination. It had been 3 hours since the phone call with my angel, by now she should be asleep.

Unless she was lying to me. That will get her in trouble.

But no. As I reached her house and climbed on her balcony, the lights were already off. A grin forms in my face as I notice that the balcony door was open, letting the chilly breeze creep inside her room.

So inviting.

Entering inside, I can see some of the surroundings, my eyes easily adjusting in the darkness.

Ah.

There she lays, in a deep sleep wearing nothing but a silky nightie, her white fluffy wings smaller and spreading on the bed. Her pretty golden hair falling on her face, her breathing is slow and soft, my hungry eyes already fixed on the movement of her chest. She has to be a real angel, cause no human out there has ever looked this mesmerising. My scarred hand reaches to remove the hair off her face, careful to not wake her up. My finger caresses her cheek softly, then it goes down to her chin, and trailing lower, reaching her chest.

I can see her nipples perking through the fabric of her nightie.

You’re a fucking tease y’know that babe? Leaving the balcony door wide open, wearing something like this. You knew I was coming didn’t cha?

I reach closer, my face mere inches away from her figure, as I take in her scent. Fuck, the same sweet intoxicating scent as before. It makes me salivate, the sight in front of me is making it harder and harder to not do anything reckless right now.

I am more than capable to fuck her just like this, or play with her lovely tits while I jerk myself off. Until she wakes up, panicking and horrified at the sight of a stranger stroking his cock to her sleeping figure. Damn that would really traumatise you angel.

I need to be patient. Can’t have her scared off, running to her brother for help, where’s the fun in that?

“Oh, I’ll make you fall f’me” I whisper, my lips press softly against her forehead. “I’ll have ya question your morals and your sanity soon enough”

I reach to the pocket of my coat, grabbing a few small blue flowers that I picked while walking earlier. Thankfully they weren’t crushed. I put them right on her bedstand, a little gift for when she wakes up in the morning.

Before I make my way to leave I notice the amount of plushies and small figurines she’s collected around.

“Cute” I mumble to myself before disappearing in the night. She’s gonna have to tell me ‘bout her collection one day.

****

The tomorrow’s meeting was about all the support and supplies we’d be gathering on the upcoming war against heroes once Shigaraki wakes up. A bunch of boring crap really, but as a lieutenant I had to show up and pretend that I care. Didn’t get much sleep last night, and for some reason those bastards just looove to have meetings in the morning. Helps to start the day fresh they say. Buncha’ idiots.

My mind is filled with nothing but her.

Damn it doll, y’gonna have me lose this war if you don’t leave my mind. I’ll have to punish you real bad for that.

“Hawks, what a pleasure to have you back again!” ReDestro says. I sit back on the chair, a lazy smile spreading across my face at the sight of the number two hero.

I jerked off to your sister’s voice last night, hero. And you have absolutely no idea.

I cough slightly, trying not to laugh.

After the meeting ends, I reach for Hawks, throwing an arm around him as if we’re close buddies.

“Oh hey man!” he laughs nervously.

“Such boring meeting don’t cha think?” I say, pulling a pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I offer him one but he declines.

“Yeah maybe, but every meeting has its importance.” he replies and I just roll my eyes.

I remove my arm off him, my eyes fixed on his.

“How is your sister doing?” I grin, puffing smoke out of my mouth, directly on his face, which is irritated with annoyance.

“Since when do you care about her now? I told you to not bring her up” Hawks replies sternly.

“Man you’re no fun. M’just trynna have a conversation here.” I raise both my hands, but he knows better than to believe I don’t have any sick intention behind all of this.

“I made sure to warn her that day to stay far away from you” Hawks says.

“You warned her that same day?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yup. She has no business with you”

The same day she was warned. She ignored the warning and continued talking to me on the phone the other day, giving me the damn blue balls with her sleepy sexy voice. Angel, aren’t you naughty?

Not containing my thrill any longer, I head outside the PLF mansion, walking towards the forest. Outside it’s sunny, the brightness making me squint and almost killing my eyes.

I grab my burner phone, dialling her number. She picks up almost immediately.

You thrilled too huh?

“Rise and shine, angelface. Slept well?”

Of course you slept well. You lay there so pretty and peacefully, I saw you myself.

“Morning Dabi!” she says, excitement clear in her high pitched voice.

After a small chitchat, I decide to.. poke her a little.

“I hope you liked my gift~” I say and for a few seconds I was met with silence.

“…gift?” she mumbles in confusion, before letting out a small gasp. For sure her eyes fixed on the blue flowers that popped up out of nowhere in her nightstand.

“Stop with those jokes” she laughs nervously.

“Y’think I’m joking around? You wound me princess, after all that I went through to gather some pretty flowers just for you..”

Her breathing becomes irregular. Damn, did I scare you?

“H-How did you get them in my room?”

“How do you think?”

“Umm…”

Poor angel, you’re stressing out.

“By the way” I interrupted, changing the topic. I decide to not answer her questions, and just leave her be with her thoughts. “Hawks told me you’re forbidden from talking to me~”

“Y-yeah but..” she swallows. “He won’t give me any reason why. And also, I don’t need guidance anymore, I am not a child..”

“Exactly” I grin. “You’re a big girl. M’sure you’re more than capable of making your own decisions, right princess?”

“Yeah.. right” she says, doubt in her voice. “But anyways, about the flowers you still didn’t-”

“Oh shit, I gotta go. Talk t’ya later” I say, before hanging up.

I have in fact nowhere to go. I just wanted to leave her drown in questions without answers, in overthinking and confused emotions. As much as I want to get her and make her mine, I decide that to have her yearning for me and her poor little heart burning for me is way better instead.

Her brother won’t give her a clear answer as to why I should not be approached. She still doesn’t know how those flowers got there, her brother’s best friend would never do anything bad right? Like, getting inside her room in the middle of the night when she’s asleep, salivating at her like a depraved man. He would never.

But you’ll see much more of me soon.

I send her a text message, I need to move things further.

If she shows up, there’s no turning back.

Tags: @mostlyheinous @touyalove @awalkingshame @ch3rrykoolaid @dabihawksluva @syrenkitsune

#B.writes #dabi #touya todoroki #mha dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #yandere dabi #yandere #x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #keigo takami #hawks #hawks bnha #tw: smoking

[cowboydisaster]

I have a prompt idea if you're still looking for some! How about the reader finding and taking an itty bitty kitten that was orphaned and Arthur's real grumpy about it at first but then she finds him asleep on the couch with the kitten curled up on his chest and he's got a hand over it protectively or something. I know that's not really Christmas-y, but I thought it would be cute! Looking forward to all your writings as always 🥰

* ˚ ✦ Moonlight * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f! reader

word count: 1k

a/n: Sorry this was late, it's been a madhouse around here. Anyways, i love this prompt and it makes me want a house cat SO bad. i also love grumpy arthur and if you couldn't tell already, domesticity is my roman empire rn.

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: THREE days 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

“No.” Arthur growls, voice stern, resolve set. Your eyes are as big as dinner plates as you continue pleading and begging. Your lip juts out, even, testing his patience, shaking his resolve.  Arthur is notoriously bad at telling you no. When you’d asked for a second baby, he’d willingly agreed. When you’d asked for the house, and the farm, he’d made it happen for you. But this?

“Please, Arthur… Where else is he supposed to go?” You whisper so as not to wake the baby, sleeping soundly in her bassinet. 

“I don’t give a damn. Not here.” Arthur grumbles, placing his tools from work on the table. You follow him around the kitchen like a shadow as he opens and closes cupboards and drawers, putting away all his items from the day. 

Arthur is pointedly trying not to look at the little black ball of fur nestled in your arms. He’s afraid that if he catches a glimpse of those big, sad eyes, he’ll agree with you, and he’ll have an extra mouth to feed.

“Where’d you find it, anyways?” Arthur says, turning, sighing as you push the teeny kitten up towards his face, holding it under its little armpits. 

“I found him stranded on the road back from the market. Look at him, Arthur. He’s not well. We’ll have to feed him.” You plead. Arthur’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he stops and turns around. You nearly run into his back, stopping just in time. 

Arthur gets a good glimpse at the little feller then. He’s just a little cat, probably only a few months old. He’s far too skinny, and his jet black coat is ruffled and dirty from the elements. You hold the cat out to show Arthur, and then he sees the little, white, crescent-shaped mark that adorns his forehead, right between his blue eyes. Arthur releases the bridge of his nose, sighing grumpily. When his eyes crack open, and he sees your pleading face, perfectly matching the cat’s expression, he gives up. 

“Goddammit, fine. Jus’ throw him in the spare room, n’ I’ll find him some fish or somethin’.” Arthur says, rather dramatically, in your opinion. You hold the kitten close to your chest, your spare arm wrapping around the man’s neck. 

“Oh, thank you, Arthur!!” You smile, kissing him quickly before popping down from your tiptoes. 

“Yeah, well don’t get all cheery just yet. We’re tossin’ him back out in the snow as soon as he’s good and healthy.”

— — — 

The rocking chair swings back and forth quietly. Your hand gently taps your daughter’s back, and you hum quietly. She’d woken you and Arthur up in a fit, hungry, raising her little fists into the air and giving you both hell. But now, her little belly is full, and a peaceful silence has fallen over the house once more. The moonlight streaking through the windows tells you that it’s early morning, and you sigh at another night’s lack of sleep. 

“Easy, baby.” You whisper, quietly and slowly standing from the rocking chair, swaying her in your arms until you reach her bassinet. 

“Good night, my sweet girl.” You whisper sweetly, pressing a kiss to her little forehead, brushing some peach fuzz out of her face. 

You push the nursery door open quietly, eager to find your place next to Arthur in bed again.  But a few steps down the hall,  you stop in your tracks, a familiar voice coming from the living room. 

“Yeah, well you’re a right bastard, y’know that?” Arthur whispers, and you suppress a laugh, peeking around the corner. 

Arthur is sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. Laying on his chest, nuzzled against his thick arm, is the little kitten. He purrs loudly, eyes closed, awfully content in your husband’s arms. Your heart melts in its cavern at the sight, and you watch the scene play out with bright eyes. 

“The lady is puttin’ the lil’ one back to bed, I figure I might as well do somethin’. So, make no mistakes, partner. We ain’t friends.” He whispers to the kitten, but contrary to his harsh words, Arthur’s finger scratches gently behind the kitten’s ear, pulling deep rumbles and purrs from the little animal. A few moments go by with Arthur’s hand resting protectively on the little cat. 

“Y’know, you are kinda cute… But don’t tell the missus I said that. I don’t want her thinkin’ I’ve gone soft.”  

You suppress a chuckle. 

“I reckon we should call you Moon… cause you got a little one right between them big eyes.” Arthur hums, eyelids growing heavy the longer he rests on the couch. You clear your throat gently, making him aware of your presence before stepping into the living room. 

“Didn’t see you there.” Arthur says, sitting straight on the couch, cheeks tinted pink. 

“She’s asleep.” You smile, “I see you’re making friends.”

Arthur exhales sharply, a huff of a laugh, “Me and the cat? Nah, he uh– he wouldn’t stop hollerin’ so I tried holdin’ him.” Arthur excuses, hand still wrapped protectively around the sleeping animal. 

“Right.” You raise an eyebrow, “You comin’ back to bed, then?” 

Arthur hesitates, looking up at you, then down to Moon. 

“I’ll be in shortly, sweetheart. Just gonna stay out here a little longer with him so he doesn’t go wakin’ you or the kids up.”

You smirk, “Alright then, Arthur.” 

 A kiss is planted to his lips before you head to the bedroom, and he sinks back down on the couch with Moon tucked into his arm. 

Five minutes turn to ten, and ten to thirty. And when you wake up to start breakfast, your husband is still cuddled up on the couch. Snores fall from his lips, matching the time of little content purrs coming from Moon, sleeping in a little ball right on Arthur’s chest.  So much for not giving a damn. You chuckle to yourself.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445 [to be added or removed, shoot me an ask! :)]

#divider by cafekitsune #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 #rdr2 fandom

[lovebugism]

hi hello angel! i have a prompt request <3 “it’s nine in the morning, are you seriously already in swimming trunks?” with steve x punchy... i imagine some cute scenes by steve's pool, maybe some sm*t maybe not dealers choice ! i just love those two sweethearts

thanks so much for your request! and for giving me the opportunity to write more punchy x steve!! hope you like it!! — the one where steve buys his summer hating gf a bathing suit (1.9k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

No parents. Big house. The perfect concoction for you and Steve to play Old Married Couple whenever work permitted it. 

He closed at Family Video the day before while you slaved over a fourteen-hour shift — just so you could have the weekend off together. The aching bones, tired feet, and frustration-induced migraine were worth it, though. Because it meant waking up in the arms of your boyfriend without either of you having to be in a rush come sunrise.

And even though you remember falling asleep with Steve’s arm wound tightly around your waist — because you spent a good five minutes arguing about the way his palm laid on the pudge of your stomach — you wake up with the boy nowhere to be found.

You rouse before you’re ready to that morning, freezing without the furnace of Steve Harrington and furry chest holding you. You curl beneath his plaid sheets and bury your face into his navy blue pillow. The lingering scent of his musky cologne and floral shampoo does little to quell your yearning.

You decide to go on the hunt for the lost boy.

Still in your pajamas from the night before — a wrinkled Hellfire shirt, a rather modest pair of cotton underwear, and smudged makeup you were too tired to take off the night before — you trek through the empty Harrington household.

“Stevie?” you call for him. Your only answer is an eerie silence. You try again. “Steve?”

He’s not in the bathroom or the upstairs den. He’s not in the living room downstairs, either, or in the adjacent kitchen. He’s quite literally nowhere, and the feeling of affirmed loneliness settles like a brick in the pit of your empty stomach.

Turns out, No Parents, Big House was only fun when Steve was there to share it with you.

You convince yourself he’s probably out getting breakfast for the both of you and didn’t want to wake you up before he left — because he’s way too sweet for his own good. So you decide to busy yourself in wait for him. You pour yourself a coffee from the bubbling machine, sloshing the heady brown liquid into a Snoopy mug you found in the back of the cabinet.

The sliding glass door a little ways behind you whirs violently when it’s opened with a too aggressive hand. The sound of it makes your heart lurch with fleeting panic. Your head whips over your shoulder in the direction of the sound. Drops of coffee spill onto the marble countertop as you flinch.

Steve enters the house then, wearing nothing but a pair of red shorts and black sunglasses — his lean torso and accompanying umber chest hair totally on display. He’s beaming like the yellow sun outside at the sight of you. His honey eyes twinkle with mirth as his hand pushes his RayBans to the top of his messy hair. 

“Oh. Hey, babe,” the boy greets with a tightlipped grin as he shuts the glass door behind him.

With one hand on your racing heart, you shove the coffee pot back into place. “Where were you— It’s nine in the morning, Steve! Why the hell are you already in swimming trunks?”

Steve’s gotten used to how loudly you speak sometimes. It’s usually when you’re happy, sometimes when you’re angry, and on the rarer occasion that something’s frightened you. He likes when you’re enthusiastic and talking his ear off, though, because he hates when you get quiet.

If loudmouth, glittering, sunshine-coated Punchy is ever not talking, something very, very bad has happened.

“In my defense, I’ve been up since seven, alright?” Steve contends, laughing softly to himself. As he walks further into the kitchen, you see he’s adorned his outfit with a pair of rubber sandals. They flip-flop, flip-flop against the tile with every stride. “I went for a run, took a shower, got you coffee—”

He motions to the cardboard cups sitting side by side on the island countertop. The former has been relieved from its lid and most of the sugary content inside. The latter is still intently covered in attempts to keep it warm. In your fleeting alarm and distant heartache, your eyes completely missed them.

“Oh…” you hum quietly in response, still clutching the warm Snoopy mug in your cold hands. “Thank you…”

You walk the short distance to the kitchen island and set the ceramic cup on the counter. You pop the lid off the lukewarm coffee — already adorned with your usual two creams, three sugars combo. You pour the liquid into the mug until it’s filled to the very brim. Steve watches with a distant smile as you take a careful sip from it, mindful not to spill it.

“And since it’s such a nice day outside, I wanted to get a jump on it and head out there,” the boy continues with a shrug. He leans his head to his freckled shoulder as he grins down at you. “I was waiting for you to wake up so I could spend it with you…”

You mirror his too cute posture, tilting your own head and peering up at him through your lashes. Bits of mascara are still smudged around your eyes as you blink up at him. “Well, that’s very sweet of you, Stevie.”

He wraps you in his arms, two golden limbs winding around your waist. Your shoulder presses into the center of his bare chest when he pulls you into him.

He watches you take another slow sip of your milky brown coffee — always so attentive in the way he gazes at you, like he’s checking to make sure you’re okay. You don’t make a face like it’s burned you or like he’s gotten you the wrong order, so he smiles. 

“Go get your swimsuit on, alright? We’re poolin’ all day today, babe.”

“Ew, no. Gross,” you grumble, shrugging your shoulder as you halfheartedly writhe in his arms. “I wasn’t made to be outside, okay? I am not a creature of sunshine, Steven.”

His pink lips jut softly out as his brows furrow. “Hm. That’s weird. ‘Cause you’re my sunshine.”

Your nose scrunches up at him, obviously discontent with his compliment.

The look makes him grin. “Exactly,” he coos before leaning down to kiss the tip of your rumpled nose.

“I don’t even have a bathing suit here! Or, like, at all.”

“I bought you one,” Steve shrugs.

You squint at him. “No, you didn’t…”

“Yes, I did,” he singsongs. “It’s in the dresser with my swim trunks. The—”

“Bottom drawer,” you finish for him, still a bit monotoned with contempt.

It makes the two of you grin like a couple of lovesick idiots. There was hardly anything more domestic than knowing how someone organizes their wardrobe — sharing a part of it with them even more so. But the gooey, warm, marshmallow fluff thought is swiftly eclipsed by your distant disdain for the bathing suit he bought you.

It’s not even that it’s ugly or anything, because it’s actually quite cute. It’s made even cuter by the idea that your pretty boy got it for you — that he saw it and thought of you because he loves you. But it goes against everything in your personal Punchy Doctrine. 

You never really learned how to swim, and the sun is your arch nemesis in the summertime — because your pretty all-black outfits do not fare well in the heat. You hate bikinis even more. Mostly because you feel like they’re a direct result of the patriarchal male gaze and your body is nothing if not a symbol of protest.

But you do love Steve. And Steve isn’t like the assholes that used to ogle at you in your swimsuit or sneer at you for not having a flat stomach.

Steve loved you, and you loved him back, so you decide to humor him and wear it despite everything that tells you not to.

“Ooh,” the boy singsongs when you walk through the sliding glass door. He’s already sprawled out on one of the lounge chairs beside the glittering blue pool. He’s tossed a towel over the one beside him for you and preemptively dragged it several inches closer. You laugh as he announces to no one, “Look how pretty my girlfriend is!”

“Shut up,” you grouse and shut the door behind you.

The early morning heat is tolerable, but still all consuming. The humidity sticks to your bare skin with an inescapable grip as the sun pierces every inch of you it can touch. You’re already mourning the cold of Steve’s house. Not a creature of sunshine, indeed.

“Do you like it?” he asks, squinting at you through his sunglasses.

You cross your arms as you peer down at him. “Do you want me to answer that honestly or…?”

“It’s perfect for you! What do you mean?” Steve argues, his voice several octaves higher as he rises from his seat. He swings his legs off the side of it and uses his glasses to push back his wild honey hair. His hands gesticulate wildly as he continues. “It’s black — which I know is your favorite color — and it’s got spiderwebs on it because I know you’re into… spiders, and… weird stuff…”

“And what about the cutouts on the side, huh?” you tease in a lilt. “What’s that for?”

A boyish grin tugs at Steve’s pink mouth as his eyes flit to your hips. The high-waisted bottoms are slatted along the sides to reveal large sections of your skin. Your hips pokes out beneath them, not quite as slim as the designer intended. You wear your pudge with pride anyway, especially with the way Steve looks at you. His eyes twinkle with lust and adoration and sunshine.

“That was just a little treat for me,” the boy confesses with an innocuous shrug.

You scoff. “Right.”

“Well… for what it’s worth… I think you look really pretty, Punchy.”

You meet his sincere glimmer with a beam. Your eyes trail over his muscular form, marveling silently at the way his chest glitters golden beneath the sun and how his trunks bunch up to reveal more of his thighs.

For a second, you can’t believe he’s yours — that Punchy ended up with Steve The Hair Harrington. But then you realize that he is yours, and that you can kiss him silly because you’re his, too.

“You look really pretty, too, Stevie,” you gush as you launch yourself into his lap, a bit more aggressively than you intended to.

He huffs at your sudden weight, but hugs you back when your arms wrap around his neck. He eases the both of you back into the lounge chair, with you resting most of your weight on top of him.

“You plan on staying like this all day, babe?” he asks, laughing and hoping you’ll say yes.

“Yep,” you affirm before the words leave his mouth, half-muffled because you’re talking into his neck.

“Even if it gets too hot?”

“Especially if it gets too hot,” you joke. You pull back from him slightly to find the boy smiling at you, one eye squinted shut to hide from the sun. You beam back at him, brighter. “You’re too sexy not to hang on to, Steve Harrington. I don’t think I can let you go.”

“Good,” Steve hums back. His fingers squeeze the sides of your hips, warm and reassuring. “I don’t think I want you to me go.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #punchy x steve #stevie drabble #st drabbles #bug's summer fic fest!

[luveline]

Hi! Could you please write a daddy-daughter day with Roan and Eddie? Like Eddie and Roan listening to Eddie's music, going to Wayne's, and just doing cute things like when Reader went out with her friends please?

hi sweetheart yes I can, I loved this idea, tyty! dad!eddie x fem!reader, 3k (cw reader is tipsy at the end)

"Okie-smokie," you say, standing at the door with two options. "Ro, pink or silver?" 

You show Roan your earrings. Eddie crams his foot into his sneaker and ties the laces, listening as Roan deliberates your two choices. "I think you should wear the pink ones because you have pink gems on your bracelet." 

He can hear your smile. "I think so too. Thank you, lovely girl." 

"Roan, you have your shoes on still?" Eddie asks, toeing into his second shoe. He stands tall when he's done and brushes down his jeans. "Coat?" 

"I don't know where my coat is," she says. 

"I'll get it," you say. "It's in our room." 

"Okay. You have your purse?" Eddie asks. 

You laugh as you run up the stairs. "Stop doing your dad checklist! We have everything." 

Roan waits by the door in what Eddie believes to be her nicest outfit ever. He's been experimenting with elaborate hairstyles, and this one takes the cake. 

He'd woken her up early for a shower and washed her hair, some tactile bonding to start what's looking to be a great day. She'd nearly fallen back asleep, and again when he was drying it with the cold diffuser. After that he sectioned it and pulled two triangular sections from the front backward, and with the help of four rubber bands and a little bit of hair mousse, he secured it out of her face, curled and pretty. 

She's wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt under stiff black dungarees with black sneakers. You suggested white sneakers, but Eddie joked that he wouldn't make her look too perfect (her white sneakers are full of mud from when they went looking for frogs last weekend, and he hasn't told you yet). 

"Hey, can you get her, uh, her blue jacket? The navy one? I think her vinyl coat will be too uncomfortable with the short sleeves." 

You appear on the top step already holding it. "I'm psychic." 

Once Roan has been helped into her coat and Eddie's made sure you both have money and water, he locks the door to your (his) house with his key. It took him a long time to start calling it his house. Not that he ever thought you'd shoot him out of it. So far, there hasn't been a day since you got together where he worried it wouldn't last. 

And here the kissing begins. 

You might pretend otherwise, but Eddie knows you're jealous of today. Not in a cruel way, the envy isn't eating you alive or anything, but he knows you wishes you could come, and he also knows you know that's not how these kinds of days work. If you're with them, Eddie would have to share his attention. Alone with Roan, he can pour it all in. You're not so codependent as to resent that, and you're happy for them. But again, you're jealous. 

"Why did I make plans?" you ask him, your hands bunched in his t-shirt. 

"Because you'll have fun," he says, dipping his head down to kiss you. 

You smile and lift one shoulder. "I will. You have fun too, okay?" You bend at the waist to kiss Roan's cheek. After a moment, you kiss the other. "My big girl, you look so grown up today, we should've taken more photos." 

"I think ten was enough," Roan says.

"It wasn't," you and Eddie say at the same time. You sigh morosely, though it's not entirely genuine. 

"Okay, I love you both. Say hi to Uncle Wayne for me." 

"We love you," Eddie says. You pout and get in your car. You've parked behind him, so they stand waving at you as you leave. "She loves you so much," Eddie says to Roan. 

Roan shrugs her shoulders, pleased and trying to be humble about it. "Dad," she grumbles. 

He puts Roan in her car seat and they drive to Uncle Wayne's for lunch. It's not far, but it's enough to listen to Roan's tape, featuring her current favourite song, a nonsensical rock song called 'She Don't Use Jelly' by The Flaming Lips. It's not Eddie's taste but it's worth it just to listen to Roan shouting along to the song, her building excitement before she gets to sing, "He uses maaaa-gazines!" 

After that is Sheryl Crow. Eddie wants to switch the tape to something harder but Roan's already singing, and it's so funny to hear her sing 'All I Wanna Do' that he can't make himself change it. He rolls down the windows so she can feel the wind on her face and she dances in her seat, tripping over the words with gusto. 

Sheryl Crow is all your influence. As soon as the song ends he pops the tape and drives the car at a crawl. He's had Roan's favourite, and then yours, but now it's time for real music. He isn't raising no prep. 

Roan is more than used to rock music. She loves it most of the time, though her taste complicates as she ages. Eddie puts on a tape you made him painstakingly at Christmastime full of ripped live performances, the sort of music you can't find on CD yet. The very first song is 'Sad But True', Metallica live from Mexico, '93. Roan bobs her head up and down with the beat. Eddie literally could not be more proud, better when she pulls out her air guitar and challenges him on who's best. 

After almost crashing the car into the picnic bench on Wayne's front yard, Eddie pulls Roan out, and grins as she races up the steps to the door. She doesn't knock —Wayne's home is Eddie's home is her home. 

"Uncle Wayne!" she bellows. 

The smell of sausages and fried onions is inescapable. Eddie loves Wayne, and he loves his extra special hotdogs, but he can already sense the mess Roan's about to make. Ketchup stains have defeated half her wardrobe over the years. 

Wayne's turning from the stove with a huge grin. He wipes his hands on a rag and chucks it at the counter, bending down with his arms opening to catch Roan as she sprints at him. 

"Oh," he groans, "Hi, Roanie. Where have you been? I told your dad eleven thirty, and it's almost twelve." 

"We had to help Y/N find her nice pants," she says, wrapping her arms around Wayne's neck. 

Wayne gives her a grandfatherly squeeze, adoring but nonchalant. 

"We didn't have to help," Eddie says, "but she made breakfast, so it would've been mean to not help." 

"Still sounds like dad's fault," Wayne says. "Yeah?" 

"Yes," Roan says, turning in Wayne's arms to beam at her betrayed father. 

Wayne kisses her head and puts her down. He asks how you are, to which Eddie can answer honestly. You're good, and you're very happy lately making wedding arrangements even though you don't know what you're doing for lots of it. Roan is still torn on whether she wants to be the best man or the maid of honour. You'd been winning, until Eddie told her she could still wear a dress as best man. 

The hotdogs are ready for eating straight away. Unlike Eddie, Wayne is prepared for Roan's mess. He pins a bib around her that he's had since she was two with a rabbit on the front. It should've been trashed a while ago, but in a show of quiet love, Wayne scrubs it spotless every single time she wears it. The white background is still a bright white. 

They eat hot dogs and talk about nothing. Wayne and Eddie see each other every single day, but Wayne and Roan definitely don't. Now that she's getting older, there's been talks of consistent sleepovers. Eddie doesn't want Wayne to spend all week in work and then have her on the weekend because, while she is an absolute delight, Roan is also hard work, and especially on Fridays when she's tired. But Wayne wants to have her, and Roan loves him more than anything, so sooner or later Eddie's going to have to say yes. 

He won't lie, he could use the break. But not tonight. 

"Dad," Roan says, fried onions and bread falling down her front and back onto her plate.

"Yes, my rude girl?" 

She licks her lips. Wayne tilts her head back to wipe her mouth clean with a paper towel. "Thank you, Uncle Wayne. Dad, can we get a movie tonight?" 

"Yeah, babe, we can get a movie, but I thought you wanted to go to the Hawk?" 

"There's no space for talking in the Hawk." 

"And you want to talk to me," he summarises. 

"Duh. Wayne, can I have more smustard, please?" she asks through chews. 

Wayne meets Eddie's eyes as he squirts mustard on her hotdog. It's a look Eddie didn't know he wanted to see until Wayne started giving it, a mixture of she's funny and you're raising a good one, kid. 

Eddie cleans up the hotdog mess before Wayne can stop him and they dawdle, not wanting to leave but with things to do. They're ten minutes late for their manicure appointments. 

The Hawkins manicurists are slightly judgemental middle-aged women who love Roan. They've seen her a couple of times, once when Eddie had been on a few dates with you but was far from your boyfriend, and Roan wanted, "Pretty nails, like Y/N," after she'd seen your painted nails for a wedding, and then a couple of times after with you, but it's been a while since he was here, and the new young nail technician surprises Eddie. 

"Hi," she says, smiling at Roan, "I know you, don't I? You and your mom came in a couple of weeks ago. How did your gems last?" 

"They came off when we went waterfall walking," Roan says, sounding exuberantly pleased by this. 

"Wow, waterfall walking, that sounds fun!"

"Yes!" 

Eddie grabs Roan under the armpits to help her into the tall chair. "It was fun until her wellies split. She had cold feet." 

"Oh no. What do we want today, miss adventurer? The same as last time, or are we trying something new?" 

Roan looks up at Eddie. He takes a seat beside her, her coat in his lap. "Whatever you want, Ro. No, um, extensions though." 

"No, I wouldn't suggest it," says the nail tech. "Maybe I can show you some pictures and you can see if you like something? I can do whatever you want me to." 

Roan ends up asking for nails that look like the ocean. The nail technician is an artist, creating a beautiful illusion of real water on her nails, and colourful sea creatures on the nails big enough to accommodate them. 

"Are you bringing your wife back soon?" the nail tech asks, covering Roan's skin with her hand as her nails cure under a UV lamp. 

"She's not married, yet," Roan says. 

"She's my fiancé," Eddie says mildly. He kind of liked wife better. "And she doesn't let me spoil her often, so probably not." 

"She couldn't stop talking about you," the nail tech says. "And you," —she nods at Roan— "I was kind of jealous. I'm still jealous. I hope my baby comes out as pretty as you." 

"You're having a baby?" Roan asks, gasping, almost knocking over the UV lamp. 

"I am! Yeah, I am, she's not coming anytime soon though. But by Christmas I'll have her." The nail tech brings a buffing file to Roan's pinky finger and sands against the edge gently. "She better be as nice as you, miss adventurer." 

"I think Ro might be one of a kind," Eddie says. 

Roan smiles at him as though he's hung the moon. 

They visit the video store after the nail salon, hand in hand. Roan is more than ecstatic at the aquarium on her nails, and it's making her sweet. She walks as close to Eddie as she can without stepping on his shoes, and doesn't let go for anything. Or, almost anything. 

"Steve!" she shouts when she sees him, Harrington himself bent over the kids aisle arranging movies. 

"Oh, no," he groans. Roan runs full pelt at him and he pretends to almost fall over. Roan laughs and tugs him back up, and he says thank you with a short hug. "Hi, Roan." He looks up to see Eddie, and glares with a mock disdain. "You. Where's my spirit level?" 

"Your–" Eddie's lips part, and then snap shut. "My bad, Stevie. I still have it, I swear."

"Well give it back, I want to mount my new TV on the wall and I can't because you never answer the phone." 

"I do," Eddie protests. 

"No, you don't, I think I've spoken more to Y/N since you moved in with her than I've spoken to you. Which, actually, I prefer her. And I want you to invite her to my housewarming party next week." 

"Am I invited, too?" Roan asks. 

Steve smiles at her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Of course you are. Robin's going to bring Mr. Stink too." 

Mr. Stink is Robin's big fat tabby cat. Roan loves him so much she cries every time she has to say goodbye to him.

Eddie and Steve hug and only pat each other on the back once, which is progress. Having guessed why they're there, Steve pulls them into the backroom to show her all the new kids movies, and lets Roan pick as many as she wants to put on his account. Despite his hug and his party invitation, Of course you're invited too, Steve glares at Eddie fiercely from across the checkout counter. "Do not bring them back late, Munson. You cost me six dollars, last time." 

"And I tried to give it back to you," Eddie says, the bag of movies hanging from his elbow, Roan the other. 

"Don't insult me. Bye, my favourite Munson, make sure you bring me a nice drawing for my new fridge," Steve says. He speaks much more kindly to Roan than he does Eddie, but Eddie doesn't think for a moment that Steve doesn't like him. They've just always been like this. 

"Okay! Tell Robin I miss her, please, and Mr. Stinky." 

"Anything for you. Bye, bye," he calls. 

Eddie waves at him and they stroll out of the video store like kings, Eddie with all their movies and Roan with one of the huge bags of ready popped popcorn. She's walking on sunshine with every step, nearly skipping by the time they reach the car. 

He doesn't understand it. Eddie's just Eddie. He doesn't get it, but he has a moment when he's strapping her back into her third car seat, knowing one day she's gonna be so tall they can get away with a booster seat. One day she won't need a car seat at all. He just loves her so much he can’t handle it. 

"Show me those nails again, babe," he says. 

She pulls her wrist up, her fingers hanging down, and says, "Lookit." 

He loves her. She learned it from you. You'd done it as a joke, Roan does it because it makes her feel cool. 

"Gorgeous." He pulls her hands into his. "What else do you want to do today?" 

She shrugs. Eddie strokes down a crop of windblown baby hairs with a licked thumb, waiting for her to decide, but she must get distracted. She reaches out to do the same to him, moving his hair behind his ear. 

"That's for me," she says, looking at the little 'R' behind his ear. 

"Yeah, that's for you. I was going to get your full name, but I couldn't take the pain," he lies. 

Her nose wrinkles in amusement. "Then how did you get the big ones on your arms?" 

"I was less of a crybaby when I had those ones." 

"You're not a crybaby, dad," Roan says, giggling.

He pouts and sniffles at her. "You really mean that?" he asks tearfully. 

Roan pushes his shoulder lightly. 

"Did you decide what you want to do?" 

She nods vehemently. When she tells him what she wants, Eddie really could burst into tears. 

You're a little tiny bit tipsy when you come home that night. You try not to show it, but Eddie knows you better than he knows the back of his own hand, and as soon as you sit down he's taking big sniffs of you to make sure you know you've been found out. 

"Stop, you're like a puppy," you grumble fondly. "Wait, where's my Ro?" 

"Bathroom. Come here, let me take your shoes off." 

You lift a tired foot into his lap. "I had, uh, a margarita. And a cosmo, too. It was happy hour!" 

"Sweetheart, I couldn't care less what hour it was as long as you had fun." 

You preen, your face swinging into his shoulder. One of your earrings jabs his bicep. "Did you have a good day with Roan?" 

"We had a great day." He struggles to get your shoe off as you slide down his arm. "Maybe my favourite day with her I've ever had that wasn't with you." 

"Really? I'm so happy. Oh, wow, what? Nice nails, handsome." 

You pull his hands into your lap. They're painted in a uniform black, but there's a clownfish painted on his thumbnail. "They're super goth," you say. 

"You think so?" 

"The clownfish is a choice. Can I get one too?" 

Eddie kisses your flushed cheek. "Yeah, babe. The nail tech tried to get me to have a seahorse–" 

"Bit on the nose." 

"Exactly," he laughs. "Exactly. But our day was awesome. She was such an angel, and she must've made everyone smile everywhere we went, she–" Eddie sits up, speaking with pride in every word. "We went to Wayne's, and the nail salon, and the video store because she said the movies aren't good for talking and she wanted to talk to me, and I asked her if she wanted to do anything else, and she said," —Eddie squeezes your thigh— "she'd do anything as long as we could have a hug." 

"She has you in the palm of her hand," you laugh, looking up at him with eyes nearly closed. 

Roan skips into the room, hands dripping water, and catapults herself over the armrest back into Eddie's lap. Without asking, she dries her hands on his t-shirt. 

"Hello, princess," you say. 

Roan drags the half-eaten bag of popcorn over to your side. "Hi. I saved you some." 

You take a handful of popcorn and promptly spill it down the front of your shirt. Roan helps you by picking them off of you and eating them, cramming her mouth until her cheeks have chipmunked. 

"Don't do that, you'll choke," Eddie says.

"I won't," she says, little bits of popcorn spraying him. 

"Ro," he laughs, his hand held over her mouth, laughing so hard it wobbles her in his lap. 

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[viaoverthemoon]

Can I request some relationship fluff with vendetta Leon. It's just been so long when I have read some good fluff with that man. For some reason people rarely wanna make fluff fanfic for him🥲. So I request you please🙏. It's all upto you what on what scenario you want. Also don't feel pressured to write this. I just really love all your stuff so🥰🥰❤❤❤

Aww this is so cute 💕Thank you for requesting, my love!

Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: On a rare lazy rain day, you can't help but think of a few memories ; You and Leon relax on a lazy day and make another memory.

Content: Husband Leon, just a whole lotta fluff on a rainy day!

Enjoy!

Memories

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

The moment you woke up this morning and the heavy sound of rain from outside the house had flooded your ears, you knew today would be a lazy day.

And turning to see your husband still in bed next to you only made you happier.

You were reluctant to get out of the bed, but your bladder had other plans. You look over your shoulder at Leon, curled around you with his arms around your waist and fast asleep.

You turn in his arms and move his brown bangs from his eyes, caressing his cheeks and admiring his beauty.

This man, who has been through so much life-threatening trauma physically and mentally, somehow manages to look like a child in his sleep. Well, aside from the light stubble along his jaw.

You think back to the first day you'd met.

He'd spotted you in a coffee shop and approached you with a flirtatious smile.

His pickup lines were so bad, and you honestly tried so hard not to laugh. Although those efforts went right out the window when he went to lean on a wall and knocked over a nearby coat rack. He'd scrambled to pick it up and apologized to the shop owner before turning back to you with flushed cheeks.

How could you reject him after that?

Oh, and then there's when he'd proposed!

He asked you to marry him at a park. But before he could pull the small velvet box out, a child appeared out of nowhere and ran over the back of his leg with a bike.

The mother was mortified and apologized profusely. Leon assured her it was alright (even though he limped for the rest of the day) before returning to you.

Only when he reached for the ring again, the box was gone!

The two of you along with Chris, Carlos, Claire, Jill, and Rebecca, spent all afternoon looking for the ring. But it wasn't there.

Leon was devastated. He looked on the verge of tears as he quietly apologized. But you'd told him it was fine, and a ring is only a ring. You don't need one to ask someone to marry you.

So, he pulled himself together, got down on one knee, and proposed to you without a ring.

Of course, you said yes.

Oh, and the box was on his motorcycle the whole time.

These memories are ones you hold closest to your heart. There's good, and there's bad. There're even moments of in-between.

But the moments of the two of you are forever.

So, you always make the most of what you get.

"Why're you staring at me?"

You blink away the memories and stare into his bright blue eyes.

"No reason..." You shrug and kiss his forehead. "I just love you."

His grip on your waist tightens and he smirks. "I love you too, (y/n)."

He goes to nuzzle into your neck, but you laugh and push him away. "Leon- I have to pee!"

"No."

"If I pee in this bed, you're cleaning it up."

This makes him pause before letting you go.

You laugh and slip from the bed to handle your business as he groans and flops around on the mattress.

❁

The smell of hot chocolate and vanilla candles wraps around you delicately, like a blanket.

You both sit, you curled against Leon and his arm around you, as the tv plays old cartoons.

"I like making memories with you."

Your words take him by surprise. "Yeah? Well, I like making memories with you too."

You hum and lay your head on his shoulder, fiddling with the rim of your mug.

"We'll keep making memories together, right?"

Leon kisses the crown of your head before laying his head there. "We'll keep making memories for as long as we live."

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

This is kinda short, sorry!

I like the idea of Leon just being a silly old man when he's not working. He just needs a break :(

I hope you liked it! Lemme know what y'all think!

-Via 💕

#viaoverthemoon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil #re4 leon #leon s kennedy #re4 #leon fluff #leon kennedy fluff #x y/n #resident evil x reader #x reader #reader insert #resident evil leon #resident evil 4 #fluff #gn!reader #gn!y/n #gn!mc #gn reader

[kisakis-boyfriend]

I'm so glad your requests are open again! Hopefully this counts towards the winter theme, but I was hoping to request the reader going on a date with Hakkai, going to see holiday/winter decorations, when they get home the reader suggests they warm each other up with their bodies, making sure to explore every inch of him to ensure the 'cold' has been thoroughly worked out of him.

Pairings: Hakkai x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Hakkai, a bit of cockwarming, teasing

Genre/Format: Smut & fluff; Oneshot

Author's Note: This is a cute idea! Hakkai is so much fun to tease too, what a cutie 💙

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Even with the sun shining brightly on the glittering snow, it was still rather cold outside. Cold enough for the two of you to see your breath as you chatted in front of the food stall. Laughter filled the air when Hakkai's teeth chattered together as he tried to speak. You teased him for this, but before you could say much more the same thing happened to you. Which in turn caused Hakkai to tease you right back, placing his hands on his hips and sassing you while you smacked his arm playfully

Walking around carrying a cup filled with a nice, warm drink to prevent your fingers from freezing off, you and Hakkai strolled through the city admiring the beautiful holiday decorations strewn about the various shops and buildings. There was even a massive Christmas tree set up in the middle of the shopping center! Adorned with all sorts of ornaments in red, green, gold, silver, and even some blue

Everything is so gorgeous this time of the year. Definitely worth the freezing noses and cheeks that plagued the two of you. It was so worth it to see Hakkai's eyes sparkle, pointing at the snowmen and other snow sculptures created by the large crowd of people. Crude sculptures crafted from the hands of young children, simple snowmen thrown together on a whim, and a handful of highly artistic sculptures from some very talented individuals

As fun as your day has been, you did have to head home eventually, lest you two turn into living ice sculptures yourselves...

The door to the Shiba house closed and you stepped inside, following Hakkai. A burst of warm air hit your exposed skin and it was absolutely heavenly. “Ugh that feels so good. The vent is blowing right on me.”

Hakkai gasped softly, quickly heading over to where you were standing. “I need some of that too! Seriously, I can barely feel my face!” Both of you giggled at his remark, rubbing your ungloved hands together while you let the heat work its magic. Seeing your boyfriend like this — with red cheeks, lips parted in a sigh — caused your mind to wander to a dirty place. I mean, when else would Hakkai be flushed and moaning the way that he was? You can't be blamed for thinking of that!

“I know of a better way to warm up...” You mumbled, swiftly pulling Hakkai's scarf down so you could capture his cold lips in a kiss– He had no time to react as your hands traveled to the back of his neck, grazing against the hairs at his nape. Removing his scarf and tugging at his winter jacket. Having cold fingertips made it a bit difficult to unzip the coat, but you managed regardless, stripping your boyfriend of his layers and literally taking his breath away

“Mmm, mmph~ W-wait, y/n....” Hakkai tried to say between your heated kisses. “What're you doing...aah!” A cold hand found its way underneath his shirt, causing him to yelp from the sudden change in temperature on his skin. It does feel good though; firm hands all over his back and chest, exploring his skin as if it were uncharted territory and your fingers were the ships sailing forth

At some point, you had to pull away for air, gasping and panting into Hakkai's open mouth as you explained, “Heh...you wanted to get warm, right?” Your partner tilted his head, eyes half-lidded already. “Just trust me, ok? I'll warm you up nicely~”

Before he knew it you had dragged him over to the couch and pushed him onto the cushions, stripping the two of you down to nothing, then throwing a large fuzzy blanket over both of your bodies before crawling on top of your boyfriend. Your lips soon found Hakkai's neck, earning such cute whimpers from him while you hungrily kissed the tender flesh. Sweat has already begun to cling to his skin from arousal, building up most prominently on his back and the palms of his hands

“Hey, I need ya to warm something up for me, babe. Think you can do that?” Your question registered about halfway in Hakkai's fuzzy brain, nodding along with a breathy “O-ok–”

Without warning, Hakkai's hole stretched around something big and slightly wet; surprising the poor guy so much that his voice cracked. Arching his back and whining as you fully slipped inside

“Ooh shit– God you're so damn warm inside, Hakkai. Mm, I love it~ ” You moaned, just taking a moment to stay still and relish in the warm, tight walls of your baby as he so kindly warmed your cock up. Hakkai's hands wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you down towards him for more kisses. Of course you obliged him, letting more of your weight lay on top of his body like a weighted blanket, rubbing his chilly shoulders until the skin felt warm again

After you parted for more air, you moved down to caress more of your boyfriend's body; sliding over his toned abs and stomach and admiring how strong Hakkai was. His thighs were next; squeezed within your grasp so adoringly. His thighs were too perfect, especially when they were within range of your mouth~ Your nails scratched the insides of Hakkai's thighs and he let out a slutty whine, unable to stop his hips from jerking

“Baby, darling– Isn't this nice?” You asked, cupping Hakkai's cheeks and rubbing them with your thumbs. He hummed a content response, holding onto your wrists and nuzzling his face into your warm palms. Between your body heat and the large blanket surrounding yourselves, he was sufficiently warmed up now

“Told ya! Told ya I would warm you up nicely. Gotta make sure your insides are warm too~” You teased, humping his ass a little bit. Even the heat from your cock inside felt blissful; Hakkai's walls clung onto the gland deliciously as it throbbed every so often. But he was growing impatient...

“Please...”

“Hm? What is it, baby?” You heard something come out of Hakkai's mouth, but it was kinda muffled and said under his breath

“Please...y/n...s-start moving already–” Your boyfriend whined, wiggling his hips against your dick. His glossy eyes peered into yours; like a sad puppy begging for treats. And how could you ever deny that adorable face of his?

You scoffed playfully, leaning down to nuzzle your nose against his. “Anything for you, love. Anything for you~ ”

#my writing #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #hakkai shiba #hakkai smut #hakkai x reader #sub hakkai #male reader #dom reader #top reader #tokyo revengers #winter specials ❄️ #requested #oneshot #tokyo rev x male reader #tokyo rev x you #hakkai x you

[biteofcherry]

Eva, I am sorry to inform you that this guy:

Is not amused by your bratty behavior, not at all, honey, and he thinks that maybe he needs to find something better to do with that smart mouth of yours. 👀

Bratty? Me? 😇 I think Andy's been too stressed with work and in fear of him suffering a heart attack I simply did my best to defuse the tension and make him relax. Like a good, loving girl that I am 😌

Charm and defuse

Andy Barber x female reader

summary: You thought it was a great idea to pick your husband from office after watching him work so hard for the past few weeks. Andy was so tense, coming back home late each night. So really, surprising him should make him feel a little better, right? Well...

warnings: established relationship; Dom/sub undertones; possessive Andy Barber; smut-t-y bits ahead;

You feel a little bad.

Mostly embarrassed. And giggly.

There's a champagne hiccup, too.

And feeling bad, yes. The bad part is important. Especially when Andy's face clouds with that stormy look, muscle in his jaw ticking as he stares you down.

He shouldn't be staring you down, you think. You're his cute, beloved wife and you came here to make him happy. You almost frown at him, but remember that Andy's hand gets heavier when you frown at him.

Well, sometimes you do it on purpose, because the sting of his slap can feel amazing.

Something tells you now wouldn't be the right time to aggravate him further. You're in enough trouble as it is. Not your fault, truly, but better not point that out.

Pity that your mouth doesn't cooperate with the tiny non-drunk particle in your otherwise tipsy brain.

"Don't glare. It's your fault." You blurt. And frown. Oops.

Andy arches a single eyebrow as he takes a step forward. He moves quietly, yet each step feels like it thunders along with your heartbeat. Which stopped for a few seconds when Andy came into his office.

Your plan was to come to Andy's office in the evening, so you could surprise him after his last meeting and perhaps be a little naughty on his big, polished desk.

Which is why you came in nothing but lingerie under your cobalt blue coat and with a bottle of champagne - some expensive sparkle that Andy kept in the small wine cellar at your house.

But Andy's meeting was running late. Really late. To the point of you getting bored out of your mind.

So you opened the bottle. A few sips wouldn't harm anyone and you'd be more relaxed to make a sexy pose on Andy's office couch to welcome him when he returned.

Half a bottle later he did return.

And you were spread on his couch in nothing but lingerie and jewelry, sucking a finger into your mouth when Andy walked in.

With three other man right at his back...

You're not sure if he was more pissed that those men saw you like that, or that you cursed and giggled and waved your fingers at them.

He barked out something harsh to them and closed the door to his office (more like slammed them). Andy's eyes never leave your form, even as you stumble from your sprawled-like-a-whore position to a more lady like.

"Explain, please," Andy slowly takes off his suit jacket, "how is it my fault that my wife flashed a body that belongs to me to other men and downed half of the bottle of Krug that I saved for our wedding anniversary?"

He drapes his jacket over the back of a guest chair and starts rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Which makes your brain sidetrack and your thighs clench.

"Maybe if you weren't so busy with a boring meeting, you'd get to your wife sooner and do something about all this!" You gesture at yourself and pout.

"Oh, I'm about to do something about all this." Andy's voice is a snap of leather, sending shivers down your spine at the though of that potential outcome.

"Okay!" You jump up, swaying slightly as the bubbles fizzle in your head again.

You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your panties, about to tug them down your legs, when Andy's fingers clench around your wrists and pull your hands away.

"You're not getting the part you like, honey," his breath is a hit, cruel tease against the shell of your ear.

"Not until I've had my fill."

He twists your arms behind your back and binds them with his tie. Then he's pushing on your shoulder, forcing you to kneel down. Sliding a foot between your knees, he kicks them wider apart.

Keeps his shoe dipped right under your clothed pussy, too.

"You downed that champagne so eagerly and spread yourself like a cute little slut-" Andy tilts your chin up with one hand, unfastening his pants with the other- "You will swallow me as eagerly and rub yourself on my shoe like a good girl."

When you don't react, too mesmerized with the sight of his beautiful, thick cock springing free, Andy squeezes your chin.

"Won't you?" He asks, holding your gaze.

"Yes, Sir." You wet your lips and grin. "I like the taste of you more than champagne, anyway."

Andy snorts, but eases his grip on your chin and instead cups your cheek as he guides his cock between your parted lips.

"Prove it, brat," he challenges, holding the back of your head as he pushes himself down your throat.

When you start rocking your hips against his foot while tonguing the underside of his dick, Andy groans in relieved bliss.

Lord knows your presence is always what he needs for his day to be better, even when you're being mouthy or getting into trouble. He loved your surprise visit and if it wasn't for the unexpected witnesses, he'd take your giggly, tipsy ass for a ride on his desk - just like he knows you've been dreaming.

But other men saw the treasure that you were and since Andy can't punch them and gouge their eyes out, he has to take it out on you.

Besides, it wouldn't do good if he didn't punish you for being careless.

Sensing your rhythm increasing, Andy stills with his cock halfway in your mouth and taps his shoe against your inner thigh. You gaze up at him, swallowing a hum around his length.

"You don't get to cum." He commands and your pupils widen.

Your whine resonates along Andy's cock, but you slow the motion of your hips. You're not particularly happy with this punishment, but you guess you'd be even less happy with the repercussions for your disobedience.

Then again...

"Don't even think about it," Andy pats your cheek. "Disobey and you won't be cumming for a month."

"Be good," he caresses you with the back of his hand and pushes deeper into your throat, "and I'll reward you for being my good girl."

"My good." He starts fucking your face harder. "Thoughtful. Frisky. Wife. Oh fuck baby! That's it! Keep going. Keep-"

It takes all remnants of your will power not to orgasm when Andy does. It's fucking hard to do, because the grip on your head and the twitching of his cock on your tongue is a great turn on.

Maybe Andy's conditioned your body to react this way to the mere taste of him, but you have to lift your hips completely up from his shoe, because the slightest pressure would undoubtedly tip you over the edge.

Andy pulls out when he's still spurting, smearing last splashes on your chin and cheeks. Then thrusts into your mouth again.

Long minutes later Andy lifts you up on your feet. He unties your hands and helps you into your coat. Your body is still buzzing with need, panties sticking to your slick folds.

He doesn't clean your face and holds your hand in his as he marches you out of his office into his car.

#stargazingfangirl18 #Siri #Andy Barber x reader #Andy Barber x female reader #Andy Barber x you #Andy Barber imagine #charm and defuse

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

your writing is incredible! do you mind writing something about dilf dave mustaine corrupting young female reader

Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy my writing!

A/n: I got, like, halfway through writing this and then had a better idea on how I could've answered this request but I didn't want to rewrite it because I still liked the story so I hope you still like it just as much :3

Warnings: Smut, unprotected pnv, oral(male receiving), fingering(reader receiving), if you think I missed anything please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

The sunset strip. Many things come to mind at the sound of that title. Band startups, drinking and drugging, all things surrounding rock, punk, metal and all sorts of other kinds of music. This was the scene, and you were finally here.

After high school you skipped out on the gap year and went straight to getting higher degrees. After those years of extra gruelling homework you took your break, taking a well deserved time off before heading into the workforce.

This being your year of true freedom, a kind you probably won’t get close to again, you went to the one place you’ve always wanted to be. The sunset strip.

Now, you weren’t much of a party person. When all your friends were out at someone’s house you were at home studying, reading, a few jobs on and off. The whole crowded place was not something you wanted. But the sunset strip was where you wanted to be all that time. Even though it was way out of your comfort zone.

You looked through some of the clothes in a store you found called ‘Retail Slut’. The clothes were of all kinds and you were quite happy to be digging in all of it, unique smells and all.

In the back there was a small stand of records which you thought were pretty cool. While you were going through them a tall man with ginger hair came up to the table and seemed to be pretending to look around at the albums. You caught him glancing at you a few times and he eventually spoke up.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he said, “new to town?” He had this friendly presence to him. His smile was warm and he had the cutest glasses on. He wore this cute brown coat and light blue jeans. Fall incarnate. A fallen leaf on a frosty day.

“Just visiting, I grew up watching everything happen here and I’d never been.” You explained. The man nodded in understanding. You picked up an album with a hammer in a red and black frame titled ‘Kill ‘em All’. The ginger haired fellow took it from you and put it under another stack of albums further down the table.

“I’ve listened to some of their shit, you wouldn’t like it.” He stated, glaring down at the assortment of other records.

“How would you know what I’d like?” You asked, crossing your arms around your chest. The man looked up at you. He eyed you from head to toe, biting his lip as he did so.

“There’s a band playing just around the corner at a bar I like.” He walked around the table to stand in front of you. “Care to join me?” He asked, holding a hand out for you to take. You hesitated for a moment. You’ve never done anything like this before, running off with a stranger to some bar. Right into a party? No one ever would’ve taken you for the type, least of all yourself.

But this was the strip, and you came here to be free. So you took his hand and he led you out of the thrift store.

You walked down the streets hand in hand. You kept scanning around at everything happening, all the laughing, smiling faces. Rock posters everywhere, record stores, guitar shops. Everything you’ve dreamed of.

“I’m Dave, by the way.” The man said. You’d been trying to work up the courage to ask but the words kept fizzling out before they came out of your mouth. “In case you were wondering what name to call out tonight.” You thought about it for a moment, trying to think of a scenario where you’d need to call for him when it clicked as to what he was referring to. Your cheeks heated up and your gaze fell to the ground as you entered a dark club.

Dave threw an arm over your shoulder, keeping you close in the crowded area. Being so close to him you could smell his cologne. The stench of the club nearly covered it but you managed to focus on it. It helped keep you calm in this unfamiliar scene.

The ginger walked you through the club and sat down at the bar. He ordered you both ginger ale. “Unless, the lady wants something else?” He offered. You shook your head and the bartender walked off to make your drinks. “Not a drinker?” He asked, half leaning on the counter.

“I’m not even a partier.” You replied, almost exasperated. The bartender returned a few moments later with your drinks. You thanked them and reached for your purse. Dave gently pushed your hand away and handed the worker some cash.

“Pretty girls don’t buy drinks, doll.” He told you, taking a sip of his drink.

The two of you got to talking, having a few more non-alcoholic drinks and just chatting your time away. This was much more pleasant than the stories of parties you’ve heard all your life. This was nothing compared to the scene you’d come here expecting, but it was a much appreciated one.

Dave’s hand found its way to your knee, slowly moving higher and higher. You decided on a leather skirt and fishnets to go along with your red tube-top and thrifted leather jacket. His fingers were dipping under your skirt, just enough to have your stomach fluttering.

Finally, after hours of teasing you with his touch that was barely considered innocent, Dave leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Why don’t you come with me for a minute?” He held his hand out for you to take, and you did.

The ginger led you through the crowd and to the bathrooms. He tried to pull you into the mens room but you stopped. “I-I can’t go in there.” You said, glancing around to see if anyone was looking at you. They weren’t, all of them too preoccupied with the show on before them, all wasted and having their own fun.

“Come on.” Dave groaned with a smile. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” He urged, gently pulling you into the bathroom.

He got you on the counter, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your hips. Your lips crashing against one anothers, tongues dancing together and exploring each other's mouths. Dave was pushing your skirt up, bunching it around your hips. You could feel him hardening as he would grind against you, short and harsh rotations of his hips.

Dave’s hands began to wander. He’d run the tips of his fingers over the inside of your thighs, sending shivers up your spine and knotting your gut. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” He mumbled against your lips when his thumb finally pushed against your panties. He pushed the thin piece of fabric to the side and slid a finger through your folds. That alone had your back arching in anticipation. “Fuck me, you’re so fucking wet.” He mused, starting to kiss down your neck. Nipping and sucking the tender flesh and leaving love bites. You screwed your eyes shut and your mouth fell open in soft sounds as Dave slid a finger into you.

He curled his finger against your gummy walls, pressing against that special spot inside you. Your eyes rolled back and you gripped his shoulders. “Such a sweet thing, huh? Never felt this before, have you?” He hummed as he pumped his long, thick fingers in and out of you. He started slow, letting you get used to this new sensation before he picked up the pace. The sound of skin slapping against wet skin rang through the small, tiled room along with your whimpers.

“Oh, fuck, please! Please, fuck, I c- I can’t.” You whined, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. Dave then pulled his finger out of you, taking away any pleasure you had just been feeling. You stared at him with wide sad eyes and a pout. “Why would you do that..?” You asked, your voice shaky and weak. Dave looked at you with an apologetic, pitying look.

“Oh... Is my baby needy?” He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, gently caressing it. “All sad and pouty because she doesn’t get to cum yet?” He ran his fingers through your hair and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t worry, daddy’ll take care of you.” He pulled you off the counter, your knees buckled and you fell to your knees on the cold tile in front of him. You stared up at him with that same wide-eyed stare. “You just have to do something for me first, sweetheart.” Dave said as he unbuckled his belt.

His pants fell to the ground, leaving him in his boxers which had a prominent bulge from his cock. “Go on, doll, make daddy happy.” You were hesitant at first, gaze flickering between him and his eyes. You brought your hands up and dipped your fingers under the waistband of his boxer, gently tugging them down until they fell to his ankles with his pants.

Dave’s hard member hit you in the face after being brought out from its confines, traces of pre already sticking to your cheek. “I-I’ve never...” You trailed off, not sure whether it was because you were distracted by his dick or that you just didn’t want to finish the sentence.

Dave’s hand went to your face again, holding you by the chin to tilt your head up so you’d look him in the eye, though your gaze flickered to his lips a few times as well. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.” He mused, wiping the liquid from your cheek. You gave a weak nod and opened your mouth for him.

The ginger slowly guided his cock over your tongue, letting the weight lay on the muscle for a moment before he went further. His hand was still on your head, holding you in place for him. He was only about halfway in when he stopped, letting you get used to just that. “Watch your teeth now, doll, but give it a suck, would you?” He said in that same soft voice he’d been using with you all afternoon and now into the night.

You did as he told you to, your tongue traced the veins on the underside as you hollowed your cheeks for him. You pulled your head back a bit to pay more attention to his tip and he let you, for a moment. Before you knew it he was slamming his hips to meet your face, fucking deep into the back of your throat at a brutal pace. You gagged on him and the tears that had been pricking your eyes fell in streams down your red cheeks.

Your knees and throat hurt but Dave didn’t stay like this for long. He didn’t finish but he pulled himself out of your mouth and pulled you up off the floor. He pushed you up against the counter with your back facing him so you’d be looking into the mirror. The ginger stared down at your exposed ass, hands firmly planted on your hips as he spread you apart. His thumb pushed the fishnet and your panties aside so he could feel just how wet you were, all for him.

“Fucking gorgeous.” He hummed. “All pretty and mine.” He said, and with a quick tug he ripped your fishnets, then your thin underwear. He lined himself up with you and pushed in, bottoming out without giving you time to prepare yourself.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, drool slipping out of your puffy and bruised lips, tears rolling down your hot cheeks. You didn’t care, anything besides Dave’s cock stuffed deep inside you was beyond your comprehension right now. You loved the feeling of him, the way he hit every spot that had you seeing stars, the way he held you so close to his chest.

After letting you adjust to him for a moment or two he wasted no time in setting a fast rhythm, thrusting into you without a care in the world. He groped your chest and bit your neck, leaving red and purple spots in his wake as his hips slammed against yours. You weren’t processing any sounds you were making but based on the expression you saw staring back at you you could imagine they were pretty loud, all lustful moans as Dave slid in and out of you, his head pressing right up against your cervix.

The knot came back full force when Dave started circling your clit and quickly burst. You screamed out for him, creaming around him. Your juices dripped down his cock, your ass and thighs getting coated as well while the liquids made their way to the floor which was already covered in a layer of other fun times. However, Dave didn’t stop. His thrusts were relentless as he kept bucking his cock into you.

“Fuck-fuck, so pretty, so pretty just for me, so tight around daddy’s cock.” Dave praised, landing a harsh smack on your ass, then another and then a third, each one drawing a yelp from you. Dave took your hair in his hand, bunching it into a makeshift ponytail so he could pull your head back to force you to look into the mirror. “Look at that, look at my little slut, all fucked out on daddy’s dick.” Your eyes were fluttering, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out but you managed to keep your standing.

Dave began losing his rhythm and just sloppily fucking into you, doing anything to reach his own high. The coil in your gut returned, this time you got to see how that looked on the outside. Dave behind you with his long, ginger hair sticking to his face and your shoulders from sweat. You watched the way your ass shook every time he rammed into you, you saw the small bulge in your stomach. Dave saw it at the same time and smiled a wicked grin.

“Look at that, all ready to have my babies, are you?” He teased. You let out a loud, sultry whine and Dave’s eyes rolled back as your walls squeezed him. “Oh, fuck~ Do that a few more times and you just might, dollface.” You continued to watch the bulge appear and disappear only to reappear right after over and over, bringing you over the edge once more.

Your body shook and your knees buckled. You clenched around Dave bringing him to his own release. Thick, white liquid shot into you and the ginger bent you over the counter, pressing down onto you as he kept bucking up into you.

He kept going a few more seconds before pulling away. He pulled out of you and watched his cum seep out of your hole. You looked back at him, then to the floor where the liquid fell. Dave saw the pout on your face, the one you hadn’t even realised was there, and pulled you into a hug. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ll get you good and pregnant next time.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. “I can bring you back home right now, would you like that, dollface?” You smiled back up at him and nodded, your eyes closing as you melted into his warm embrace.

#Megadeth #megadeth smut #megadeth x reader #megadeth fanfiction #dave mustaine #dave mustaine smut #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine fanfiction

[laurrrelise]

mike schmidt headcanons

i’ve never posted before but i’m a huge jhutch fan and i had fun writing these :)

mike is absolutely a cat person. the only reason they don’t have a cat is because he was too embarrassed to look “un-manly” and buy one himself. he found one outside at one point, and kept trying to get abby to want to take it in and keep it, but she didn’t really want a pet to have to take care of so mike just let it go. mike leaves leftover food outside for it when he remembers, and stops and spends time with it when it’s lingering outside his porch.

he likes to surprise abby with new toys, even if he doesn’t have the extra money for it. her favorites are dragon action figures and stuffed animals (polar opposites ??) and he finds cool smaller ones at the dollar store. she can tell the difference, but pretends not to notice to make mike feel proud of himself. she also likes them, anyways.

mike drinks a lot of water. he drinks almost nothing but water. he very rarely drinks alcohol because he was invited to a high school party at one point, got super drunk, then jumped on a pool table and tried to do a backflip. he broke his leg and was humiliated, and vowed that he’d never drink again. (not completely true, because he goes for a beer once in a blue moon, but it’s so rare that it barely counts.)

him and abby have a 15 year age difference, but she takes care of him just as much as he takes care of her. when he’s super tired after work, she reminds him to brush his teeth before he goes to bed. she brings him a blanket when he falls asleep on the couch. she grabs his keys when he leaves them on the dining table, the kitchen counter, his nightstand, or her dresser, and puts them on the coat hooks so he’ll never lose them. she picks up on when he’s having really really hard days, and even though it’s hard for her, she eats for him.

(i’ve realized this one really isn’t canon, but i don’t care, it’s cute and i want it) mike has curly hair. abby doesn’t. neither does their mom, or their dad, or their little brother, garrett. (he’s older than abby, but shut up and let me have this) abby is jealous of mike’s curls. so, reluctantly, mike taught himself how to curl hair. he found a cheap curling iron at the convenience store down the street from their house and practiced on himself, burning his hands like crazy, and hiding it from abby. the first time he successfully curled her hair, she gave him the biggest hug and ate her entire dinner without having to be begged.

mike loves cleaning. he hates waking up early, but he doesn’t mind when he gets to turn on his music and spend an entire morning cleaning the house. he also really loves his music. he loves divorced dad rock. nickel back, green day, smash mouth, the black keys, etc. he loves putting a cd (he burned some illegally, abby helped him) into his boombox and blasting it at 7 a.m. he’ll walk into abby’s room, nodding to the music and singing along confidently, waking her up and laughing with her when she makes fun of him. but, still, she helps him clean.

abby is really good in school. she has to be, because mike is a bit of a bumbling idiot when it comes to math and english etiquette. the last time she asked him for help on her homework, even though it was just simple multiplication, mike ended up staring at the page for ten minutes before calling his neighbor to ask if she could help because he was “busy”. (he was bored out of his mind, but he couldn’t figure out what 36x5 was, and was too embarrassed to admit it.)

mike loves sweets, but he prefers his coffee bitter. he has a chocolate stash that he keeps on top of the kitchen cabinets for when abby is really good. he also has it because chocolate is his #1 craving when he wakes up in the middle of the night.

mike loves when abby draws him. sometimes, he’ll find her looking at him while she’s coloring, and he’ll hold the pose for as long as he possibly can to be a useful reference to her. he will never criticize her art. drawing is abby’s comfort place, so even when he’s so upset with her that he could rip his own hair out, he would never even think to insult her artwork.

mike despises shopping. in fact, he despises spending money, which is mostly due to the fact that after his mom died and dad left, he’s never had much of it. and he hates the fact that he has to give so much of it back to a government that hates him. so, to make up for it, he prefers thrift stores. not goodwill, essentially a corporate office that helps no one but it’s filthy rich CEO, but small, local thrift stores. the kind that are always filled with volunteers, whose profits exclusively go to keeping the shop running and a small cause, like dental care for youth in Guatemala or starving kittens who would be put down without proper funds to keep them alive. he likes knowing that his money is going to a good cause, even if he hates handing it over.

mike does, however, love picking out the clothes. he scours through the kids’ section for the brightest pairs of overalls, t-shirts, cardigans, skirts, and sneakers. he loves the look on abby’s face when he finds her a pretty sundress, because the smile that so rarely appears is filled with such innocent bliss. for himself, however, he moves as quickly as possible. he pretty much exclusively wears old hoodies, sweaters, jeans, and work boots. as long as it’s comfortable and in a size medium, it works for him.

that’s all for now but i love thinking about this man so i’ll probably end up writing more eventually 🤷‍♀️ who knows

anyways have a good day <3

#mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt smut #jhutch #fnaf #fnaf movie #headcanons #josh hutcherson #im losing my mind i love mike so much #abby schmidt #he and abby have the cutest relationship

[mamayan]

I'm here to ask for more Mirio filth if you're taking requests ml🧎🏽‍♀️

Wishing you a happy birthday love ♡

“Mirio…!” Your squeal of pleasure and shock echoed, the bathroom reverberating the sound in the foggy damp space. The erotic noises your body was making nearly rivaled the rivets of water on tiles as the shower droned on.

He couldn’t answer, because it would mean dragging his face from your dripping folds, where his tongue had been continually lapped at your puffy clit as he worked to draw another orgasm from you.

You had no where to go. Your stomach against the bathroom counter with your torso draped over, forearms resting on cool granite and sweat causing you to scramble for purchase. He was behind you on his knees, working his aching cock with one hand and using the other to spread your ass so he could feast on your cunt like the birthday cake you’d shared earlier.

Your pro-hero lover more excited for this day than even you, awake before the sun could even dust the horizon with color and making you breakfast. Then it’d been time with friends and family, his eager and jovial smile brighter than anything as he swung you from place to place all day. Filling your birthday with the sounds of laughter and cheer, celebrating the gift you were to him.

He’d pulled you aside closer to evening, pulling you taunt against his muscular chest and wrapping you up to whisper in your ear his wicked intentions for later.

“Sunshine, when we get home, should I give you a reward for how good you’ve been for me?” It had sent shivers down your spine, making you achy and needy for when you’d both be alone together. It only amused him, the way you hastened the night to a close to escape with him back to your shared home. Boldly dragging his hand under your dress once you’d entered the car, so his thick fingers could feel how you’d soaked through your underwear. It nearly made him feral, his signature grin strained and leaning towards a snarl as he easily tugged the fabric covering you to the side and slipping a finger into your velvety soft heat. “I spoke about giving you a reward sunshine, but I think you’re begging for a punishment like this,” despite his words he happily fingering your tight hole while you mewled in the passenger seat, legs spreading wider to let him slip a second finger inside. It hardly mattered that your slick was soaking into the leather beneath you, your core tightening as he curled his fingers and pumped quickly in and out of you, shiny arousal coating his hand as you cried and came for him just as the vehicle slowed to a stop.

His blue eyes were hidden behind closed lids, but his smile was nothing short of tight and strained as he unbuckled your seat belt for you, hoping out of the car and coming around to your side to open the door.

He yanked you out, pulling your dress down and bringing you in for a searing wet kiss, his tongue waring with your own as he almost danced you into the house. Then he’d ate your pussy on the kitchen table before feeding you left over cake, before he speared you on his thick cock and made you ride him until you creamed his dick too.

When he’d filled your cute cunt up, he’d taken you into the bathroom with intentions of a shower and massage for you but…

“Mirio m’gonna cum—!” You wanted to get away, your overstimulated clit almost painful to the touch as he gently licked and sucked, your dripping hole begging to be filled again.

When his palm connects with your ass, you’re gone. Clamping down around nothing, your cunt spasms and soaks his face, his tongue happily drinking you down as you moan and cry out, eyes opening for a brief moment and seeing your reflection in the steamy mirror.

You looked debauched.

“So good for me aren’t you sunshine? You want my cock again?” He’s standing up to his full height, placing a hand softly over the dip in your spine and pushing you further down as he sees where you’re looking.

“Oh? You see your own gorgeous face and get star struck?” He chuckles, pearly teeth reflected through the mirror as he lines his soft squishy tip up with your tight entrance. It was when you looked down to turn and see behind you when you felt his other hand grip the back of your neck and turn your head back. “Nuh uh, go ahead watch me fuck you sunshine, I want you to see how messy I can make you.” He finishes his sentence but surging forward, cock easily stretching you out and filling you up again.

This time you see your own face too. How your pupils seems to dilate as he begins a brutal pace of bullying your poor slit, thick veiny rod hard like steel as he shoves himself inside you like he’s angry. Your mouth hangs open as you cry out, fingers gripping the counter like a life line as he shifts his hand on your back down, digging his fingers into the pudge of your hips to keep you from hitting the counter too hard.

He kicks your legs open wider, making you gasp as he sinks even deeper, nudging up against your cervix as a thin line of drool slips from your lips, his hands keeping you in place as he fucks you.

“That’s it baby, go ahead and let go for me, I got you.” His blonde hair is tousled from your earlier love making, your hands having fluffed it up further and caused it to fall a bit into his eyes now. He merely shakes his head, concentrating on fucking as deeply as possible into you now, watching his dick get crushed each time he thrusts inside your slick heat. His muscles contract, but when he picks up the pace and has you nearly delirious, your eyes catch yourself again.

“So beautiful sunshine, you gonna let me fill you up again?” He laughs gently juxtaposed to his rough handling of your abused cunt, his hips never faltering as he sweetly coos as your fucked out face. He can’t tell if you nodded or if it’s from the force of his thrusts, but as his balls draw tight, he can only grit his teeth as your cunt bursts and grips him like a vice, your walls milking him as you cum.

“Shit, there you go, that’s my girl,” he pants, still moving his hips as best he can with how tight you’re gripping him, moaning as your face drops to the cool counter top as your orgasm washes over you. He’s filling you up seconds later, groaning loudly as he pushes his twitching tip right against your womb while he shoots his load.

“Hey sunshine, you doing okay?” He lets you rest a moment, softly smoothing over the skin on your back as you catch your breath.

“Mm,” is all he gets, your cute lazy response all he needs to help you up as he takes you over to the shower.

He props you against his chest while letting the spray of warm water wash down your skin, his head tilting down so he can capture your lips in a more intimate sweet kiss than earlier.

“Happy birthday sunshine,” he whispers.

Post dividers by @cafekitsune

#happy birthday! #Mirio Togata #Mirio Togata smut #bnha Mirio smut #mha Mirio smut #request filled #bnha smut #mha smut #quick Drabble #Mirio fluff

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Holiday Magic

Gator Tillman x GN Reader, friends to lovers, fluff( no pronouns used for the reader [lemme know if i missed any tho just in case] )

Summary: It's Valentines Day, Dot and Wayne and Scotty are all out of the house. It's just you and Gator and the cupcakes you're making. Oh and the massive crush you have on your best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings: blind gator (if that's one), food and eating, slight mentions of past abuse, very small, like one or two sentences of it.

{ Also these are some of the songs i was imagining. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. }

🍒🧁🍒🧁🍒🧁🍒🧁🍒

"You guys have fun!" You say, smiling as Dot shrugs on her coat, Wayne kneeling to tie his shoes by the door behind her.

"Oh we will hun. And think about what I said." She ducks in to hug you, squeezing you tight. You smile and shake your head.

"Now none'a that. I'm tellin you he feels the same way." She pats your cheeks, you crinkle your nose at her, she does it back and laughs.

"I just...can't. Cuz what if-" you lower your voice and lean closer, worried your friend might hear you, though he's all the way upstairs,

"What if you're wrong? And I say something. And it just makes thing weird? I don't-" you take a deep breath, shaking your head again.

"I'm not sure I could handle things being weird between us. Just because I went and fell for him like an idiot. Ya know?" You shrug.

"Oh hun. Don't say that. You're not an idiot. And I'm not wrong." She smirks, that little twinkle in her eyes that you love so much. Wayne stands with a small groan behind her and puts his arm around his wife, smiling at you.

"She's right ya know. He's definitely sweet on you. Just try. Be brave. We know ya are." He smiles, nods encouragingly. You take a deep breath and then groan loudly, both of them laughing at how flustered you are as they head for the door.

"And hey," Dot turns, points at you, face serious.

"I know he can't see you. But you look cute enough to eat." She nods to your outfit. Just something a bit nicer than what you usually wear, nothing terribly fancy.

"Thanks." You mutter, looking at the floor.

"And I'll try... I guess... Maybe." You look back, smiling sheepishly at them. They laugh and wave as they head out the door. You lean in the doorway as they get in the car, waving again as they back out of the driveway. You shut the door and lean against it, hoping their valentine's dinner goes well. And the movie after it.

Dot had told you she and Wayne would be out late. And Scotty was at a party at a friends so you didn't have to take care of her tonight either. It was just you and Gator. And your baking. Dot offered up her oven to you, and her kitchen, when she learned you loved to bake things. And you'd been using her kitchen ever since.

You were mixing your last batch of cherry chip cupcakes when you heard Gator coming slowly down the stairs. His feet moving with precision, finding each step carefully before setting his foot down on it. You peeked around the corner, watching him, always worried he'd fall. But you'd only seen him trip once, the whole time you'd known him. He got around well once he knew the layout of places.

His blue bandana was wrapped snug around his eyes, hiding the scars you knew were there, but had only seen once or twice. He didn't like people looking at them. Or him, really, all that much. Not because of that. So he covered them. And you didn't mind not seeing, you just wanted him to be comfortable.

"They leave already?" He called when his foot hit the floor and he was on solid ground again. He adjusts the bandana, fingers pushing and tugging at the edge of it as his feet shuffle toward the living room. You look away, moving back to what you're doing.

"Yep! Mom and Dad are off on their date. Scotty's at a little valentine's party. Which is adorable to me, we never did that when we were little. I mean maybe at school but not at each others houses." You smile as you pour the cupcakes and set the tray in the oven, twisting your timer and setting your bowls in the sink as Gator moves into the living room.

His fingers twitch at his sides as he moves. And you know it's because he's fighting the urge to reach out and feel his way around. Dot had told you he did that. Hid and changed the way he got around when people were watching. You smile to yourself as you watch him, arms crossing over your chest.

"And you should have seen the little tux she was wearing. I've never seen a tiny human look so dapper." Gator's head tilts toward the sound of your voice, a laugh falling past his lips at your words.

"She's not that tiny." He scoffs, shaking his head, standing in front of the couch hesitantly. Like he's not sure he wants to sit or not.

"She's tiny to me. It's like when you're a senior in highschool and you look at the freshmen coming in, and it's impossible that you could have ever been that small. They're just babies!" You exclaim, hands flailing in front of you. He laughs loud this time, reaching down to feel the couch before plopping down onto the soft cushions.

"They're like fourteen." He argues, still chuckling.

"Yeah. Fourteen year old babies!" You concede. He snorts again, shakes his head, soothes his hands over his thighs as he sits. You can see the small smile still on his face, like he's content to just sit there and argue with you. And he is. And so are you. It's an easy rhythm you've both gotten used too. The teasing. And the joking.

"Want me to put the radio on?" You ask, already reaching for it before he answers you.

"Yeah sure. Whatcha makin'?" He asks, head tilting, nose sniffing exaggeratedly at the air. Your nose crinkles as you hold back the urge to laugh at him. Sitting there sniffing the air like a curious puppy.

"Cupcakes. Cherry chip. Chocolate frosting for the top. And I'm thinking maybe cherry frosting filling for a few. But I haven't decided." Your brow furrows as you look around the kitchen. One batch already cooling. Almost ready to frost once you get it all mixed together.

"Hmm. Chocolate covered cherry cupcakes." Gator hums, his head tilting.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. I didn't even realize." You mumble, wiping at your forehead with the back of your hand. You're sure your covered in flour and batter and frosting. Not that it matters, because he can't see you to make fun of your mess anyway. You hear him chuckle behind you and turn to see him shaking his head at you again. You huff loudly and he snorts at you, his smile growing.

You just stand there. Watching him. And you know you shouldn't. Know it's rude to stare. You know he doesn't like it. But you're not staring because of his eyes. You're staring because... of him. Just him. You've been finding it harder and harder to not stare lately.

The more you've gotten to know him, the more you'd liked him. And you'd watched him grow, since he got here, the new boy next door. Showing up after all the trauma with his family. A trauma he and Dot shared. And he'd been angry, and hurt, and in pain.

But you babysat Scotty for them during the week when they couldn't be home early, so you'd been around. Didn't ask too many questions, though you wanted too, and he seemed to like that. Seemed to relax around you. And when you did eventually start asking questions, he'd answered them. Mostly. Best he could.

You'd watched him grow, into himself, and into the family. And the way he was with Scotty always melted your heart. He never called her Scotty, always "kid" or "kiddo" or "bookworm". But the way he smiled and laughed with her. The way he let himself be tugged and guided gently around the house by her, completely at her beck and call, made your insides all warm and gooey.

He was your best friend. You knew that. You hadn't had many growing up. But he was a good listener. And a good talker too, once he got going, and felt safe enough to. You could listen to him talk for hours, and you had, day after day. Sitting in his room late at night, just listening to him talk and watching as his hands moved when he got more passionate about things.

You wanted to grab those hands sometimes. Just snatch them out of the air and hold them. Maybe press gentle kisses to his scarred knuckles and whisper how much you loved watching him talk. How much you loved listening to all the wonderfully weird ideas he had sometimes. Loved how creative he was even though he tried to hide it. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him.

But you never did. Never managed to find the courage. Just sat on his bed and watched him. Like you were watching him now. Sitting on the couch, his head moving slowly side to side as the radio played some love song. He was more a metal guy, but it didn't seem to be an issue today.

The timer ringing behind you on the island startles you out of your thoughts with a loud gasp. You huff a startled breath and grab it,  twist it off, and grab the cupcakes out of the oven. Turning it off and leaving them to cool. You mix the frosting for the first batch. Cherry and chocolate. You decide you're gonna fill a few.

You work quietly, filling and frosting, humming along to each song that plays. Not really paying attention to them all that well. Your tongue sticking out as you concentrate, trying to get the little swirl in the frosting just right. You're starting on the next one when Gator speaks again, for the first time in you don't know how long.

"Do you just know every song?" He asks, you almost drop the cupcake in your hand as your back straightens at the sudden noise.

"What's that?" You ask, looking across the island at him, he's turned on the couch, head resting on the back of it, one knee pulled up onto it, and if he could see, you know he'd have been watching you this whole time.

You look at him for a moment, navy sweatpants and a soft grey shirt, his socks mismatched, like always, courtesy of Scotty, you're sure. He looks so soft, relaxed, his hair falling in his face a bit. He smiles at your question, amused that you didn't hear him through your concentration.

"The songs. You've been humming to like, all of them." He nods toward the radio as the song changes again.

"You know this one too?" He asks, lips twitching against his arm on the back of the couch, head resting there as he waits for your answer.

You let the song play a little, listening, and of course you know this song too.

"Yeees." You drawl, setting the cupcake and the frosting piper down, licking some cherry frosting off your fingers.

"Of course you do." He snorts into his arm. And you know he'd be rolling his eyes if he could.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't know it was illegal to enjoy music in this house." You scoff, wiping your hands on your apron and crossing your arms as you watch him smile brightly.

"It's not illegal. But jesus. Every song?" He asks, shaking his head again.

"I like music! What's wrong with that?" You ask, taking a step around the island, toward him, you feel like you're always moving toward him these days, needing to be closer.

"Nothing!" He says, laughing as he raises his hands in surrender.

"It's just- I guess I just never knew anyone who liked that many songs and different...uh... what's it called. Like different types'a music I guess." He says, his hands tucking around his leg on the couch.

"Different genres?" You ask, taking another step, the song on the radio is slow, makes you want to sway to it. You're fingers itch with need. The need to touch, and hold, and move.

"Yeah that!" He snaps his fingers, points at you. You smile. His own smile wide with excitement that you knew what he meant.

"I just like all kinds of music. Different genres have different things to offer ya know?" You say, leaning your hip against the island as you watch him nod.

"Right. Yeah. Makes sense. You like rock and stuff too?" He asks, teeth digging into his lip.

"Yep. Love it." You say, popping the p, and smiling when he smiles, the two of you mirroring each other though he doesn't know it.

"Cool. It's not really, Valentines music though I guess." He says, slowly, eyebrows scrunching as he thinks about it.

"I don't know. There's a few ballads that'd be good I think. For rock people." You shrug, push yourself off the island as the song changes yet again, another slow song, another one you know. You watch him nod again, teeth still worrying at his lip, he looks nervous. And that's what does it, for some reason.

You take your apron off and walk over to him. You watch him track your movements through sounds, "looking" up at you when you end up standing in front of him. You look down at him for a moment, watch his tongue peak out as he licks his lips.

"Gimme your hand." You say, almost whisper.

"What for?" He asks, his voice tight, he's on edge, suspicious. Your heart aches for him, and for what he's been through to cause that feeling.

"Don't your trust me?" You tease, knowing he hates pity, always. Responds better when you put a little bite into it. The teasing he's good with. He tilts his head, like he's trying to hear your intentions.

"I um... I mean yeah. I do." His hand raises off his leg a bit, but not high enough to reach yours, stopping mid air. Uncertain. You smile, reach down and take his hand carefully.

"Here. C'mon. Come with me." You give his hand a little tug and he stands. You stumble back a step at his sudden proximity and he huffs dramatically.

"Where are we going? Aren't you cookin' or somethin'?" His voice is laced with annoyance, but you know he's just nervous, worried, that you might be pranking him. And you hate that he still thinks that way. But you don't hold it against him, years in a prison hospital ingraining that feeling deep.

"I'm just frosting now. This is more important." You tell him, giving his warm hand a squeeze as you pull him toward the space between the kitchen and the living room. A nice little open space, perfect for what you need. You stop and face him, take his other hand in yours as well. You watch him swallow nervously, his fingers twitching against yours.

"What are you doing?" He asks, his voice soft, and small.

"We. Are gonna dance. If- if you want?" You ask, shoulders jumping, hands twitching nervously in his. He licks his lips, eyebrows jumping on his forehead, popping over the bandana before disappearing again.

"Dancing? Right here?" He asks, sounding unsure.

"If that's okay with you? I know all the songs remember? It's nice to dance. And not just hum along sometimes." You breath out a small, nervous laugh, you heart pounding in your chest. Hoping he doesn't push you away, or tell you it's stupid, or something else equally horrible and embarrassing. His lips twitch, just the smallest amount, but you see it.

"I don't... really know how to dance." He says, his brows furrowing again, bunching together beneath the blue bandana.

"Only time there was ever dancing was at church sometimes. And no one ever really wanted to dance with me. So I don't... sorry." The apology is automatic. A thing he does. Not as often now. But he falls back on it. When he thinks he's done something wrong. He apologizes.

"It's okay. Dancings not so hard. Here." You move his hands slowly to your waist. And then move your hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

"And then we just- sorta move. Just sway with the music." You say, starting to move. He moves with you, fingers pressing into your hips as he smiles at you. He tilts his head forward a few times, like he's trying to look at his feet, before he straightens back up.

"Don't know what the fuck I think I'm lookin at. Not gonna see nothin." He mutters, and you know he's talking to himself, mostly, but you laugh anyway, and it makes him smile, makes him braver.

He moves closer, arms moving around your waist, holding you close. You smile too, bite your lip and move your hands. Let them fall over his shoulders, resting your arms there instead.

"See. You're a natural." You tell him, huffing a laugh, his nose scrunches and he nods at you. You can see his cheeks flexing, like he's squeezing his eyes shut tight or blinking hard. Or trying too.

You take a deep breath and move again, press closer, settle your head on his shoulder, your nose nearly pressed against his neck. You feel him trembling against you, feel the shakey breath he takes before moving his hands up and down your back genlty.

"I'm doing okay?" He asks you after a moment, both of you swaying slowly.

"Perfect." You pull back, eyes on his face.

"You're perfect." You whisper, eyes on his mouth. And if you were braver, you'd kiss him. But the dancing seems to be where your bravery ends. You move your hand, from the air behind his head to the back of his neck, your fingers tucking into his hair there. He sighs, seems to melt into you.

"I'm really not." He says, and you can hear that self depreciation that he hides so well.

"You are to me. For me, maybe. I don't know. But I-" your breath catches in your throat. His head moves to the side, listening, always.

"You what?" He asks, and you can feel his breath on your skin you're so close now. His hand moves up your back slowly, and then up under your arm, it finds it way to your neck carefully, his thumb brushing over your jaw.

"You what?" He asks again, insistent, his head dipping closer, his hair brushing your forehead. Your fingers twitch in his hair, against his neck, you know he can feel it.

"I just. I think maybe that I-" you cut off again, take a deep, frustrated breath. He smiles then, hums a laugh.

"You love me." He says, his head moving closer, his nose brushing against your cheek. Your heart pounds, your hands have to be sweaty, and warm again his neck and shoulder where you're holding him tightly now. He doesn't seem to mind.

"Wha- I didn't- I mean i'm-"

"You love me." He says again, cutting you off. And he's, oh you know that look, he's smug now. Lips twitching up at the corner, his thumb moves over your jaw as he smiles.

"Well you love me too." You huff, brows crinkling as you frown at him. A laugh bursts out of him. His arm still around your waist tugs you closer, you're chest to chest now and there's no way he can't feel how fast your heart is beating. He's still smiling, and now he's nodding.

"Yeah. I do. I do love you." He whispers into the the small space between you.

"I know. I- I love you too." You say, softer now, watching his face, that warm smile fading to something else. A look of concentration moving over his features.

"What? What's wrong?" You ask, your hand moving to his forehead, fingers pressing into the crease between his brows, soothing it. He softens under your touch, leans into it when your hand moves to his cheek. He shakes his head, once.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, so soft, so earnest. You nod. Forgetting he can't see you, rolling your eyes at yourself.

"You just said you love me and you're asking if you can kiss me?" You breathe, a giddy laugh punching out of you. He shrugs, nods.

"Yeah. Asking for permission's always good right? Or does it- does it ruin the moment?" He asks, face going serious again. You bite your lip, move your hand further into his hair and smile when he sighs at the touch again.

"It doesn't ruin the moment. Just makes it better. I think." You tell him, curling your fingers in his hair.

"Good. I'm glad I didn't ruin it." His voice is thick with emotion, and your chest aches as his hand moves from your neck to your mouth. His fingertips moving gently over your lips, his thumb following them, you press your lips into his thumb and watch him smile as he leans closer, his thumb moving away the second before his lips touch yours

It's just a soft kiss. A sweet, warm press of lips against yours. Gentle and full of care. And it's everything.

His hand on your back pulls you closer and you gasp, he smiles against your lips and then his tongue hits your bottom lip, moving genlty, asking for permission. You sigh into his mouth and press closer, letting him in. His hand finds your hair, fingers moving against your scalp softly before his fingers get tangled and he groans into your mouth. You laugh into his and then you're pulling apart, reaching back to untangle him as you both laugh.

His head falls to your shoulder once you free his hand and he groans again.

"Sorry." He moans, you rub his back and pull him close, swaying from side to side again as you hold him.

"It's okay. It was funny. Kind of perfectly us." You sooth. And then he's standing straight again, his hand finding your face slowly, thumb settling at the corner of your mouth, like a guide in case he needs it again.

"You taste good." He says, like that's a normal thing to say, like it didn't just make your knees weak.

"Um... I do?" Your nose scrunches, doubting him.

"Mhm." He hums, dips forward, presses his lips to yours again and pulls back.

"Like cherry frosting." He says, smiling again, thumb moving across your lips.

"Oh. Yeah. That makes sense." You nod, your voice a little higher than normal. He nods, presses his forehead against yours, stays there.

"Need any company while you frost the rest of them?" He asks, his voice soft between you.

"I'd love some." You nod, take his hand in yours and guide him towards the kitchen.

"You'd love some. More or less, than you love me?" He teases as you park him next to where you were working. You groan at his question, pushing your hand against the smug look on his face.

"Oh. More and more as we speak." You tease as he laughs and swats your hand away. You swat back at him and he catches your hand easily, sight or no, his reflexes are great, and fast, he tugs you to his chest, hand wrapped around your wrist.

"If I stop talking. You'll love me more?" He asks, his voice pitched low as he snakes his other arm around your waist. You shake your head, dip your free hand into the frosting, two fingers covered in chocolate.

"Don't ever stop talking." You say, moving your hand slowly, so he doesn't clock the movement.

"And I don't think I could love you more than I already do." You say, sweetly. He smiles, starts to lean in for a kiss and you smear the frosting across his cheek. His mouth drops open as he freezes.

"Oooh my god. What did you just do to my face?" He asks, sounding the most offended anyone has ever sounded. You snort, grab at his neck when both his hands let you go, held up in the air by his shoulders.

"Made it better." You say, pulling him toward you and licking the frosting off his face. He makes a strangled sound in his throat and you smile and shove gently at his chest as he grabs for you.

"Now behave. I have to get them finished before everyone gets home." He pouts dramatically, and sighs. But he stays back, and you watch him bring his fingers to his cheek where you licked him. Just a press of fingers before he sniffs, realizing you can see him, and drops his hands again.

"Here. This is for you." You take one of the cupcakes your frosted earlier and place it in his open waiting hand.

He peels the paper off genlty, feels for a spot on the island and sets it down before taking a big bite. There's frosting on his nose but you can't even focus on that because he moans so loudly as he chews you feel your cheeks flush.

"Jesus." You mutter. And he smirks at you.

"Asshole." You grumble, smiling when he laughs around a mouthful of cupcake, his lips covered in crumbs and brown and pink frosting. You can't help yourself, you grab his shirt and tug him into a kiss. The little surprised noise that catches in his throat is the best sound you'd ever heard.

"Now you taste like frosting." You say agaisnt his lips.

"You callin me sweet?" He teases, licking at the frosting on his lips, you bring your hand up and wipe at some with your thumb.

"I'll call you whatever you want." You say, licking your thumb clean. He leans into you then, nuzzles into your neck.

"Promise?" He whispers into your skin, his arm circling you again and tugging you close. Your move your fingers through his hair, press a kiss to his head.

"Promise." You whisper back, smiling when he hums into your shoulder and rocks the both of you back and forth gently.

You finish the cupcakes with him by your side, both of you humming and singing along with the songs that come on. You get them moved to the table, setting them out in a heart before Gator drags you away to sit on the couch, his arms around you as you watch a movie, describing what's happening for him. You lie a few times, just to make him laugh. And he does, he buries his face in your neck and laughs and holds you tighter when you tell him what really happened.

Dot and Wayne come home and find you alseep on the couch, wrapped up in each other. Holding each other and snuggled close, safe on their couch. In their house. Together. Both of them smiling as Wayne lays a blanket over you before they head upstairs.

"I knew they'd figure it out." Dot says, smiling as they crawl into bed. Wayne shakes his head as he tugs the covers up.

"I did too ya know. Just don't know how you always know exactly when these things are gonna happen hun. It's like a sixth sense with you or somethin." He clicks off the lights and Dot curls into his side.

"It's holiday magic that's all." She sighs, cuddling closer.

"Oh. And you owe me and Scotty twenty bucks." She tugs him closer, smiling into his chest as he laughs and holds her close.

Tag list ( do i do those? Not usually but i got peeps that need to see it 🤣🤣): @jozstankovich @friendly-jester

#gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman fic #gator tillman x gn reader #mine #my writing #my fic