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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Simple Math / Part Six

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches. Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life. Simon does some digging.

“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”

Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML.

That was only an hour ago.

He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him.

“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“

“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses.

“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.”

“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise.

It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet.

“I dinnae need-“

“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist.

“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses.

“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs.

“Alright.”

“What’re you doing after this?”

“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?

“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.

“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt.

“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.

“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”

“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.

Nothing like a seven am beer.

Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.

“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.

“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.”

You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.

You were so, so wrong.

“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.

“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”

“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”

“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”

“No days. You?”

“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”

“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.

“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

>Make it home from work alright?

>It’s Johnny, by the way :)

The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.

“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.

“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”

“What?”

“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.”

Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.

“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”

“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.

“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.

Your beer goes sour in your stomach.

“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.

You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.

By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.

It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines.

>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!

A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.

>Get some rest.

The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.

Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.

He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.

Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.

He won’t be your patient anymore.

He won’t… be your patient anymore.

The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.

This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery.

So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright.

This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake.

They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you.

You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own.

It’s for the best.

You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.

Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional.

Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will.

“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.

“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny.

“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer.

“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on?

“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.

A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.

“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus’… I’m havin’ a bad day.”

“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.

“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face.

“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.

“Ye think so?”

“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.

“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”

“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Doesnae count. I was high.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”

“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now...

“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”

“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“

“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?

You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well.

"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.

“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.

“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?

“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”

“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number?

Of course, he knows, he started that group text.

Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-

“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”

“Y-yeah.”

“We, bunny? We.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?

“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”

“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.

“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”

“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.

“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.

"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.

“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.

Fuck. You’re so fucked.

Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.

Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.

Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest.

He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.

So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.

His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.

>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.

> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?

>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.

>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck.

Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way.

>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.

Simon, Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse? I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from two years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to. You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name. I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging. -K.L.

There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.

Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from?

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

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doveypink · 7 months

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unexpected surprise [satoru gojo]

summary: satoru seeks your help in raising a child. word count: 0.7k warnings: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff/crack, dad!gojo (to megs and tsumiki). a/n: it’s my birthday! as per tradition, i like to write something for myself (as if i don’t always…). i have a longer gojo fic in the works, so take this until then!

“So what do you think?”

Satoru grins at you, his pearly white teeth blinding your eyes.

“It’s… something,” you reply, unsure of how to translate the thoughts running through your mind.

You sense Gojo’s impatience, giving him a lopsided smile when his eyes narrow. You poke his cheek—right in the dimple, which makes him smile wider—and you sigh.

“It’s a lot of responsibility to raise a kid,” you say firmly.

“I know,” he says with confidence. “Do you think I’m not responsible?”

“You have to be serious about this,” you assert, carefully stepping around his prior question. “This isn’t a joke. You can’t use your powers to save you if you fuck up. This is a little human we’re talking about.”

“I know,” he insists, whining a bit. “Come on, I wouldn’t ask you for help if I didn’t think we could do this.”

You tap your foot a few times, considering your boyfriend’s suggestion for a moment. Then, softly: “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod.

“Okay!” Satoru repeats with a cheer, scooping you up in his arms. You groan, but you can’t help smiling a bit. He sets you down and puts his hands on his hips. “Well, I hope you’re ready to meet him.”

Your boyfriend turns around, walking to the door of his apartment. You freeze, staring at the man with wide eyes. “Wait, what—?”

“Surprise!”

Gojo interrupts you to swing the door open. Standing outside the apartment is a little boy, no older than six years old. His scowl is partially obscured by the mess of dark hair on his head. You stare at the boy, mouth agape, while your boyfriend beams at you.

“Ta-da! Introducing… Megumi Fushiguro!” Satoru waves his arms around dramatically, presenting the child to you in the manner that a game show host announces that a player has won a new car.

Your eye twitches in irritation at Gojo, but you push it aside for the time being. You kneel down to Megumi’s height, holding out your hand and telling him your name. The boy reluctantly shakes your hand before dropping it back at his side. He seems deeply disinterested in the situation.

With a gulp, you ask, “Hey, so… How long have you been standing out here?”

“What time is it?”

You glance at your watch. “15:47.”

The boy pauses. “Two hours.”

A gasp escapes your mouth. This time, you can’t help the glare you point at Gojo. “Satoru, what is your problem?” You hiss.

“What? What did I do?” Your boyfriend asks cluelessly.

You continue to glare at him as you usher the small boy inside to sit on the couch. “Are you hungry? I’ll get you a snack,” you say quickly. Rushing to the fridge, you find a cup of applesauce and hand it to Megumi. He takes it wordlessly, tearing the lid off the container and helping himself.

Next to you, Gojo pouts. “But that’s my applesauce…”

A slow turn of your head shuts him up. You drag your boyfriend into his bedroom, hissing at the man. “You’re doing a terrible job of convincing me that you can be that boy’s legal guardian.”

“We are his guardians. This is a joint operation,” Gojo corrects you.

“I literally just agreed to this!” You shriek.

“Well… I may have told the higher-ups that you already said yes.” Your boyfriend scratches his head, casually shrugging his shoulders. “I guess it’s a good thing you did, huh?”

It takes everything in you to withhold from grabbing him by the shoulders and flinging him out the window. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to be calm, and speak.

“Satoru. I will help you raise this boy. But you have to promise you won’t pull any last-minute surprises on me again.”

“I promise,” your boyfriend grins, kissing your nose. For the briefest of moments, you feel relieved. Then he continues: “But there is one little thing I forgot to mention…”

The door to the walk-in closet swings open behind you. You yelp, jumping into Gojo’s arms. A little girl, maybe a year or so older than Megumi, nervously peeks her head out. She waves, smiling sheepishly.

Your boyfriend repeats his act from earlier, introducing the girl with a sparkling grin and a goofy voice: “Introducing… Megumi’s big sister, Tsumiki Fushiguro!”

You drag a hand down your face. Parenthood is not for the weak.

#dove writes #c: gojo #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #reader insert

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nope-body · 2 years

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#when I say that every time I practice driving with my dad it ends in tears I’m not exaggerating #I’m planning on baking cookies and needed some ingredients that we don’t have and wanted to run to the store #my dad said sure as long as I drive #even the slightest mess up is criticized and he always sounds upset or irritated or angry #which then makes driving harder because I have to focus energy that should be on driving on not crying and managing my emotions m #and more energy on responding to him and not breaking down #and more energy on processing what he’s saying and fixing it and learning for the future and #the energy I have left to drive? after I’m shaky and distressed and trying to do ten things at once?#it’s not enough energy to drive perfectly (which is the only way my dad will accept it)#to put salt in the wound he used this as further proof why I can’t get my license yet #before we left to go to the store he was complaining about how it would be easier if I just had my own license #when I told him that he always sounded irritated and that’s why I always drive so poorly he gave me the non apology of #‘well I’m not! I’m sorry you feel that way.’#which is why I’m currently in my room #I’m crying because this entire day has been a series of difficult conversations with him #(not that he thought they were difficult or that an outsider would think they were. he just keeps bringing up points from the past that are #deeply tied to my trauma and that trigger me)#happy father’s day! /s

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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months

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teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2

summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner

wc: ~800

A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴

prev. next

"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.

"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."

"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."

"You actually saw him in class?!?"

Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.

"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.

"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"

"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.

“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”

“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”

The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:

‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.

‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’

‘Freakishly quiet’.

‘Secretly joined a gang’.

That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.

Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.

As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.

Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.

When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.

You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.

“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”

Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.

“Yes, Mr. Morales?”

“May I please use the restroom?”

A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.

“Go ahead,” Jones relented.

The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”

Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”

“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.

Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.

You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.

Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.

Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.

"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.

You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"

"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."

" 'Think' about what?"

"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"

The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #moralesanhour

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roosterforme · 4 months

Text

At Least Twice a Day (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32

Warnings: language, mentions of smut, mention of injury

You loved having Goose and Carole stay with you and Bradley. His mom always taught you a new recipe, and you could tell how happy it made Bradley to spend time with them. Especially Goose.

The guys were out walking Tramp after dinner, and you were helping Carole make a cake in your kitchen as you kept pausing to look at your engagement ring which used to be hers.

"He'll take good care of you," Carole mused out loud as she cracked some eggs. "Not that you can't take care of yourself, of course. But he'll give you anything you need or want. That's just the way he loves you."

Her words made you feel gooey. "That's the way I love him, too."

Your future mother-in-law's beaming smile left you wishing Bradley would return from his walk so you could touch him. You just always wanted to be touching him. "Chocolate frosting?" Carole asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"Yes. As long as Goose likes that."

She laughed and tossed her head back. "Goose has never meet a food he won't eat."

"Sounds exactly like Bradley."

Once the pretty cake was cooling and the frosting was ready to go on it, the front door opened, and Tramp bounded in ahead of the guys. "It smells good in here," Bradley murmured as he made a beeline to give you a hug. He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled your cheek against him. "Well this is a warm welcome."

"I missed you a little bit," you whispered. You made sure Carole and Goose looked distracted as you said, "You told me you'd make some more time for me all week. I want it real bad." You sent him a little pout just to reinforce things. It was hard to be as intimate as you liked when his parents were visiting.

His response sounded a little stern. "I know. I've been tired. And a little preoccupied. Don't act like you aren't getting it, Baby Girl." You pressed your lips together, because he'd actually taken the time to go down on you this morning before he got dressed. For almost thirty minutes. And it had been really good. "Now what smells so delicious?"

You patted his belly; he was still trying to get in shape again after his horrific accident during his last deployment a few months ago. "I don't think you should eat too much cake, okay. You told me to make sure you were making healthy food choices."

Bradley sighed and said, "If you make it, I'm going to want to eat it." He sounded a little snippy, and you knew it was because he loved his mom's recipes, but you'd stand firm.

"Just one small piece. I'm going to ice the cake, and we can all eat it tomorrow before your parents fly home to Virginia."

"Fine."

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

Bradley knew you were probably a tiny bit annoyed with him when you excused yourself early to take a shower and get ready for bed. But the cake looked so good, and he wanted to eat it even though he did tell you not to let him have too many sweets. His parents were on the couch watching a movie together when he changed into his gym clothes as he heard you get into the shower. Since he had his weight bench in the garage now, he should be using it every day.

When he walked into the living room on his way to the kitchen to make a protein shake, he felt two pairs of eyes on him. "What?" he asked, turning toward the couch. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well..." Carole began, already cluing Bradley in to the fact that this would be an irritating conversation. "We couldn't help but notice that you got a little bit snippy with your fiancée earlier."

"Oh here we go," he muttered in response, running his hand through his hair. "How much did you hear?"

They shared a look before Carole asked, "Are you sure you're pleasing her in the bedroom?"

He froze in place and barked out an annoyed laugh. "We are not having this conversation. Absolutely not."

His dad put a hand on his mom's shoulder, but that didn't stop her. "Oh, yes, we are. We have always been very open about sex, Bradley. It's nothing to be ashamed of!"

Bradley looked at her bright blue eyes before glancing at his dad. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to talk about sex with his parents even though he was well into his thirties, it was more that he wasn't sure how to defend himself right now. "This conversation is not necessary. She was being dramatic."

Carole scoffed in response. "It's not dramatic when you're letting your partner know you need something, Bradley. She's going to be your wife!"

"Yeah," Bradley barked. "And she's already getting it at least twice a day most days!"

Goose choked on his sip of tea.

"Oh," Carole said softly, but she looked a lot calmer now as Bradley shook his head. "Well, that's good."

"Mmhmm," he hummed sarcastically with his hands planted on his hips. "I am fucking my fiancée regularly. She's plenty satisfied. She just likes being a brat. But thank you for your concern." He turned toward the kitchen, nearly forgetting what he was planning on doing in the first place. "Jesus," he grumbled as he grabbed his protein powder. "The fucking audacity."

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

When you woke up the next morning, Bradley was still sound asleep, so you made your way to the kitchen to start breakfast for the four of you. The coffee was brewing, and you were collecting ingredients for some pancake batter when you froze. Half of the cake was gone. "What the fuck?" you gasped, and that's when you saw Bradley walk in. "You ate the cake."

He frowned at you. "No, I didn't."

"You did!" you accused. "It's half eaten! You ate it out of spite!"

Bradley raised one eyebrow and asked, "Are you serious right now?"

You spun when you heard Goose clear his throat, and you turned to see that Carole couldn't even look you in the eye for some reason. "Good morning," she said as she reached for a mug. "Goose has something he needs to tell you."

"I ate the cake," he said. "It was delicious. I had one piece, and then I couldn't stop eating it. And then the next thing I knew, half of it was gone."

"Oh," you replied softly. "Well, that's okay. Why don't we just finish the cake for breakfast?"

"That sounds lovely," Carole replied, barely meeting your eyes.

You took a deep breath and turned toward Bradley. "I'm sorry, Roo. You can have a much cake as you want, I shouldn't have told you not to eat it."

He leaned in closer and whispered, "I'll have a little slice, Sweetheart. And I'm sorry I haven't been as attentive this week as I usually am. If you want me to fuck you nearly constantly, you know I will."

"Shhh," you hissed. "Your mom is already barely looking at me right now!"

Bradley laughed as his parents took the cake and coffee into the dining room. "That's because I told her you're a needy little thing who wants me balls deep inside her all the time."

"You did what?!"

#is it working for you?#roosterforme #b&bg #if you ask emily #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine

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murdrdocs · 5 months

Note

i just wanna think about how step brothers rafe would blackmail you because he caught you sneaking back into the house after a party you were told not to go to.

what could you possibly do for rafe so that he doesn't go and tell ward and your mom

your foot lands on a creek in the floorboards and instantly, as if on cue, your body freezes. you wince under your breath, squeeze your eyes shut, but the damage is already done.

in fact, you figure that the damage was done once you'd snuck out of your bedroom window hours ago, when the sun had just started to set and day bled into night.

"where've you been?"

the voice comes from your left, probably in the living room, and it's one that causes frustration. you sigh, roll your eyes, and weigh if it's worth arguing. unfortunately, that choice is made for you.

"you went to that party, didn't you? wearing that." rafe spits his last words out, as if your outfit of shorts and a cropped tee were something completely inappropriate whenever his sister –– your sister –– wears the same without any comments.

you turn towards him, voice already laced with venom before you even speak. "it's none of your business, rafe." you add the same emphasis to the end of your words just as he did.

"oh but it is my business. dad specifically told you not to go."

"your dad, rafe. ward's not my dad." you can see him getting even more upset. getting irritated, which is an emotion that doesn't wear well on rafe. it fits too tightly too quickly.

he stands from his seat in the armchair, approaching you almost menacingly. but you refuse to submit. you push your shoulders back, puffing your chest out and hardening your eyes to stare up at him.

"you're living under his roof," his pointer finger, long and dexterous, circles around in the air. "you're spending his money." he stares down at you over his nose, gaze virulent. his top lip curls. "treat him––treat us––with some respect."

your eyebrows lift in an amusement and shock mix. "us? i think i respect sarah and wheezie just fine."

"me."

"and why would i respect you? i don't owe you anything, rafe, especially with how you treat me." you go to turn away, done with this whispered conversation, but rafe catches your elbow before you can escape.

"you don't owe me anything, huh? i wonder what would happen if dad found out that you were sneaking out?"

you shrug, pretending to be uncaring. "i'm an adult. and again: he's not my dad."

"okay." rafe lets go of your arm. "then you can say goodbye to that monthly allowance. no more credit card. no more shopping trips. this was the third time you disobeyed him, right? and what did dad say..." rafe puts a finger on his chin and pretends to think. "something about three strikes and you're on your own."

your facade cracks, your eyes fall. because rafe's right, as annoying as he is. you stare up at him, defeated.

he sees that he's won, pink lips curling into a victorious smile. his hand comes to your hip, hooking in the belt loop of your shorts and pulling you closer with the curl of a finger. your chest thuds into his but rafe doesn't falter. he instead stares down at you, his other hand pressing into the exposed skin between your top and bottoms.

when he speaks, he leans down, whispering into your ear and speaking each word clearly. "unless you're willing to make up for it. to show me some respect."

#stepbro!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafesworld!#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #celeste writes obx #rafe cameron

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chrisevansleftpeck · 1 year

Text

Growing and Healing

Word Count: 900

Content Warnings: Prison mention, pregnancy discussion, implied smexy, angst.

Summary: You and Spencer vow to not have kids until you’re out of the FBI, but after a case of looking after a kid with his wife, things change.

Spencer had just spent the last case with you, holding watch at the victim’s family's house for hours on end. He watched his wife play tea-party, dress up, and Just Dance with the family’s seven year old girl while her mother was stuck in the station and honestly, he just fell deeper for you.

You settled into bed your first night back home, pulling the warm covers up to your chin and snuggling into Spencer’s chest. Everything should be perfect except he for some reason laid awake, staring at the ceiling as he ran his fingers through your hair. You picked up on Spencer’s irritation as he didn’t reach for a book to distract himself, just glued his eyes to the ceiling.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, propping yourself up on Spencer’s chest so that you could look at him.

“Nothing,” Spencer hesitated. “I’m going to bed.” He suggested, gesturing his hand around to you and him resting in bed together, lights off.

Your heart stung a little at his random passive-aggressiveness. “Okay.” You mumbled, sinking back down into his chest. The two of you sat in the haunting quiet until finally he groaned as he pushed his hair back.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. You listened as his heart sped up beneath you, thumping against yours. “I’m- I’m just confused.”

You sat up beside him at this, flicking on a dim lamp sitting on your bedside table. “What’s confusing you, Spence? We can talk it through.” You offered, biting at your nails slightly. Spencer never got like this and whenever he did, it was usually mom-related.

“I just- just- I know when we got married we agreed on something-” Spencer started.

You finished his sentence like verbatim from your memory, “No kids unless we stop working for the FBI.”

“Yeah,” Spencer looked down as he took your hand in his, squeezing it nervously. “Well I just thought I’d be able to do that, but watching you play with that girl and bake with her and doing all of it with you it’s just- well it’s just a lot harder than I thought.” Your husband deflated further, frowning as he twisted your wedding ring around your finger.

“I know.” You whispered softly, stopping his finger over your ring then looking up at Spencer. “I know. But it’s selfish, isn’t it? I mean- for us to bring someone into the world we live in. And after prison, oh my god, Spencer-” You never said Spencer, only Spence or baby or some pet name. But you were scared half to death at how badly you wanted this and of going against your better instinct.

“Y/n,” Spencer swiped his thumb over a tear that had fallen down your cheek, unknown to you. “I won’t put myself on the front lines anymore, I’ll let someone else be the bigger person, I’ll never touch dilaudid again and-”

“I’m not worried about you being in the front lines, doing our job how we’re supposed to. I’m worried about another accident, one of us not coming home one day.” You cried, thinking about how not fun growing up without your dad was.

Spencer didn’t say a thing at that, he just let you hit home, wrapping you in his arms and cradling you in his lap. He sat with you until you stopped crying and your breathing regulated. “I’ll take the part-time job.” He finally decided, shocking you.

“What are you talking about?” You sat up, brows furrowed.

“They offered me a part-time job after prison. Half-time professing in Virginia, half-time working cases.” Spencer explained, running his fingers through your soft hair before leaning in close to you. “I want a family with you a lot more than I want this job. And I don’t want either of us breaking a vow just so we can get our cake and eat it too.”

You nodded, holding your face in your hands before gathering yourself. “I want to leave the BAU.” You ripped the band-aid off and let the conversation flow. You told Spencer you were unhappy with all the killing and death. You told him how you felt about everything, leaving him completely shocked that he didn’t see through you.

“I didn’t know that at all.” He whispered, looking down. You grasped his hand again.

“Because I didn’t want you to yet. And you know what? Having a kid gives me a perfect excuse to grab a job at a bookstore, take it easy for a minute, get a therapist maybe. Make room for a baby Reid.” You smiled softly, Spencer breaking out in a smile too at the thought of a baby Reid, of his own child with you. You made that life sound so good.

“Are you sure?” He looked up at you finally, quivering with something between nerves and excitement. Spencer leaned in to hold your face, waiting for an answer.

“More than anything.” You whispered, placing a kiss on his nose before Spencer pulled you onto his lap, you giggling. “Ah!”

“Let’s get a head start then, shall we?” Spencer asked, cupping your blushing cheeks. He still flattered you daily, even after all this time.

“I think we should.” You whispered into his lips, connecting softly and allowing him to take over, kissing you all over as you smiled widely. You wanted to start the next chapter of your lives as soon as possible.

#dad!spence #dad!spencer #criminalminds #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer reid #spencerreid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spener reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid angst #Spencer Reid x Fem!Readr

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roadkillremi · 8 months

Note

Quote 24 smut with billy pleas🩷🩷

I can do that!!!

24. "I wouldn't imagine breaking your underwear rule." (Billy Loomis says this to Sydney Prescott)

Masterlist 300 Event

Billy Loomis X F!Reader

Summary: after a long day of "busy" work Billy wants some company. Reader and Billy are 18+

Warnings : MINORS DNI, smut, p in V, unprotected, Billy kinda pressures?, He has a knife, language, he uses that knife to carve his initial into you, a bit of praise.

You read a book in your room while your music played. You softly hummed to yourself flipping through your book. A soft knock interrupted you, you looked up and walked towards your window. You moved your curtains over to reveal Billy looking into the window. You softly smiled and opened your window.

"Billy. It's 9pm." You leaned towards him. He smiled, "I know. It's more fun this way.". You moved to the side to let him in. He climbed through and looked around. You had music and movie posters on the walls. He always found it interesting to look at them.

"Let me guess you got done at Sydney's and had to go to your secret affair?" You gave him a look. Billy shook his head, "I didn't come from Sydney's.".

"you just came to a losers house for fun?" You tilted your head.

You weren't part of his friend group, and you had no desire to be part of it. You met Billy through Randy Meeks. You were a frequent customer of Bradley's video store. You had a routine, Friday you get food, get a movie, and pass out. Billy seems to figure out your routine and joined you one night. You were scared you were just another girl. You heard the rumors about Christina, you didn't wanna end up like her. So you told him you wouldn't sleep with him, which made him more eager to see you.

He softly smiled at you, "You're not a loser...". You shrugged, "Just a random girl Billy Loomis is visiting.". He looked down, "You're not... Random.". You sighed, "Billy I was joking-".

"I told you I.. I like being around you.".

"So that's why you ignore me at school? It makes total sense." You argued. You shook your head, "I told you im not some... Some-".

"slut?" Billy asked looking at you with a smirk. He stared at your exorcist poster, "I know you're not.".

"What do you want Billy?" You asked softly. He looked at you and slowly scanned your body.

"You."

"I told you I can't ... You're dating Sydney!" You said putting your hands to your face.

"When did you start caring about Sydney?!" Billy scoffed.

"Last I checked her and Tatum teased you." He added. You looked up at him, "Shut the fuck up.". You stood up, he softly smiled.

"See? Sydney's not like you. She cares too much... About herself... she's a push over too. She's always scared and shit. But you... You don't care. You like the dark stuff... Like me...".

"Then break up with her." You crossed your arms. Billy shook his head, "I told you it's difficult, her mom died.".

"I'm aware." You muttered. Billy stepped closer, "I just need you... It was a rough day okay?!" His voice grew more irritated. He sat on the edge of your bed and stared at the wall ahead of him.

"My dad... He's an asshole... You understand that... You're mom left too..." Billy tried to shove his emotions back. You stepped towards him, "I know... I'm sorry...". He hugged your torso burning his face in your stomach. You ran your fingers through his hair, "I'm sorry I fussed at you. I'm just... Worried.".

"I know." He glanced up at you. You looked over at your TV, "Do you wanna watch the exorcist?".

"We watched that last time...".

"it's my favorite." You whisper. He nods, "sure.". You turn on your TV and set up the Exorcist. Once you sat by Billy on your bed you leaned on his shoulder. He'd slowly start kissing your head, then cheek, then neck. You breath a bit heavier and grab his arm.

"What are you doing?" You asked softly. He looked at you, "I'm kissing you.". He then gently kissed you on the lips. You gave in to him leaning into his touch. His hands slid behind your back and he pushed his body towards you more. He positioned you beneath him as he continued to kiss you. His hand moved towards your pajama pants. His fingers wrapped around the elastic, you backed your face away from his.

"Billy..."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't dream of breaking your no underwear rule." He sounded annoyed.

Your stomach noted, he complained about Sydney being the same way in the past. You took a Shakey breath, "No..". He looked up at you, "I want to tell you I'm ready.". His eyes went wide and then he smirked. He kissed you before sliding off your pajama pants.

"That's my girl." He whispered. You grinned, His girl... You grabbed his face pulling him into a kiss. He grunted lowly, he pulled away to examine your face. You gently smiled at him, he sat up unbuttoning his blue shirt. You leaned up slightly on your elbows to watch him. He stared directly in your eyes as he took off his white t-shirt. Your eyes traveled down his slightly toned body. You sat up and took off your shirt as a response. He smirked laying you back down. He trailed his face down your neck. You felt his nose slightly touch your skin. He kissed your collarbone a couple times before biting it. You gasps your hands clinging to your bed. Billy softly chuckled, his laugh vibrating onto your skin.

"Billy.." you softly whispered, he looked up quickly.

"Yes?"

"I..I'm scared.. n-not scared but nervous..". You looked off to the side. Billy smiled, "It's okay. I'll take... Good care of you.". He leaned back down to kiss your collarbone. His hands slid to your hips, "So beautiful" he muttered. He sat up pulling a pocket knife from his back pocket. He flicked it open cutting the sides of your underwear. He threw the piece of fabric to the side. Your eyes widen at the scene, your heart pounded. He started unbuckling his belt and taking off his jeans.

"Gonna take real good care of you..." He whispered. You watched his knife carefully, he glanced up at you and then looked at the knife. He smiled, "Not scared of this old thing are you?". You shook your head, "No." You gave him a small pathetic smile. He leaned closer to your face, "Are you scared of me?". The blade contacted your thigh, you jumped a bit.

"No.". He smirked, "You really are something else" he softly chuckled. He kissed you before returning to his position. He took his boxers off revealing himself to you. You stared down at him unsure of how to respond.

It sprung up against his stomach and was easily 7ish inches. Your eyes widened and you looked up at Billy.

"Don't worry.." he rubbed the tip in-between your folds. "It'll only hurt for a moment." He smiled. He soon thrust himself in, causing a loud gasp. He quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"Don't wanna wake up your folks now do you?" He whispered. You shook your head no, he smiled and slowly thrusted. You tried to relax your body giving into the feeling. His hand was still planted in your mouth while his other gripped your hip and held his knife. He looked into your eyes showing no sympathy. He breathed heavily sometimes letting out a grunt.

You hand grabbed his wrist to the hand covering your mouth. He grinned down at you, observing you like a piece of art. He slowly removed his hand from your mouth.

"I.. wanna.. hear you.." he said in between breaths. Your breathing was jagged and your body was tense. Your eyes rolled back as you arched your back. His arms wrapped around you back. He pulled you closer using your position to use you more. Billy groaned watching your face contort.

"so good..." He mumbled watching you. You moaned in response, you reached for his shoulder to grab on for support. A coil twisted in your stomach as you got more intense.

"Let it happen." Billy whispered knowing you were close. Your legs spasmed as you whined. Billy gently laid you back down, "Good girl." He smiled. He took his knife carving a B into your hip. You hissed softly, "What was that?". Billy just smirked and got up putting his clothes back on.

"You're leaving?" You whispered. Billy looked over "We have school tomorrow. But.. I promise I'll break up with Sydney by the end of this week.". You nodded, "okay. Bye Billy..". He leaned down to kiss you, "Bye.".

A week later

"Billy Loomis visited you?"

"Yes.. but I didn't know!"

"Did he mention anything?"

"He.. he mentioned breaking up with Sydney at the end of the week."

"Is that all?"

"He told me not to go to the party... I didn't know why.. well.. I do now."

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dckweed · 4 months

Text

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND ➺ bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut.

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

part one: here

PART TWO - THE FAKE INSTAGRAM

After the whole fiasco of snorting water out of your nose and scaring the poor man half to death, Bob insists on taking you to the quaint coffee shop on the corner of the street you guys lived on, just a few steps away from the front doors of the apartment building. Reluctantly, you agree, curious to know more about the predicament your neighbor had gotten himself into. He lets you have a few minutes to throw a cropped zip up hoodie over yourself, and a baseball cap to help shade the still slightly visible bruise on your face before you meet him in the hallway. He had clipped Cosie to her leash and the excited little furball was yipping excitedly when you stepped out of your home, closing the door behind you.

“Hi Cosie baby!” You say excitedly, your voice sweeter than honey as you crouched down to her level to excitedly scratch her behind the ears like she loved. “You being a good girl for your dad?” You ask teasingly, you knew she could never be bad, and Bob practically treated her like a princess anyway.

“Always is..” Bob says, his accent drawling out a few of the syllables in a way that you just loved to hear. God, you thought to yourself, this man could record an audio book and have everyone swooning. “You ready?”

You smile, straightening up. “Yeah, lets go..”

He was truly a gentleman you noted, he held the door to the apartment building, and the coffee shop for you as if it was second nature, only humming in response to your simple thank you, and when he pulled the chair out for you at the small table on their outdoor patio, you hoped that he didn’t notice the blush on your neck and face. Were you really so used to guys that were such brutes that you got flustered by basic acts of kindness? He hadn’t argued with you too much on paying for your own drink, letting you do it after a small squabble..or maybe you really didn’t give him a choice..you had already payed with your phone while you were arguing before he had even gotten his wallet out of his back pocket.

“So,” You say as he sits across from you, looping Cosie’s leash to the more shaded side of the table. “Can you elaborate on the whole girlfriend thing for me?” Now it was him who was turning red.

He fidgets awkwardly with his hot, black coffee for a moment, those eyebrows knit tightly together again. He clears his throat before he speaks. “I kind of..already told all of my friends that we’re dating.” He says, you lean back in the chair, your head tilted slightly towards the sun as you listen to him. You enjoyed the warmth on your face.“I..i don’t know what came over me..we were all drinking, and they said something about dating it somehow turned to me..and i just..i’m so tired of Hangman and his fucking manwhore whorier than thou attitude and always teasing me for not going on dates all the time..”

“So you told them you were dating someone?” You ask, seeing where the story was going. You could tell that the story alone was irritating him by the was his hand clenched around his coffee cup and the tightness around his mouth, the tick in his jaw. You wondered how long he had been putting up with this ‘Hangman’ guy.

Bob nods. “And then they asked her name, and at the time the only thing i could come up with quickly enough to not seem suspicious was Sunny..so..” You laugh a little bit, this man was adorable, and obviously gentle even though he was clearly upset by what he was talking about. You liked that about him, you decided.

How could you not help him? And really, what could it hurt? “How long would you need me to be your girlfriend for?” You ask, bringing the straw of your iced latte to your lips, moaning softly as the heavy caramel flavor hit your tongue. You could drink it forever. You see his body sag a little at your words, a little more relaxed.

“Just long enough to make it believable.” He states, eyeing you from across the table. Cosie’s cold nose pokes your leg and you happily reach down and scratch her head, giving the little baby all the attention she wanted. “A couple of nights out with my friends, obviously, and im sure Nat will want to hang out with you one on one..” He says, actually thinking of the scenarios that would most likely take place. “A couple of official work events, probably, I would say, a few months..”

You turn your attention back to him, lips pursed. A few months? That would land you around the beginning of the year..through Christmas..you had agreed to go home for the holiday’s this year. You arched a brow as you thought. It would look good if you brought a man home to your family, especially a man like Bob, they would swoon all over him..you wouldn’t have to spend the whole week hearing your grandmother tell you that you should be married already, or have a family like your brother and sister.. “Okay, i’ll help you out, but only if the fake boyfriend thing can be used in my favor too..” You say. He nods immediately. “So..rules?”

The two of you talk for a couple of hours at the coffee shop, the little table filled with the occasional laughter as you talked about rules of the arrangement, and what would need to be done. Later on you found yourself on one side of your couch, Bob on the other as the two of you tried to work out a schedule.

“Can you meet with me and the crew at our usual bar tomorrow night?” He asks, looking up from his phone at you. Natasha and Jake were blowing up the group chat about meeting you and it was slowly driving him insane. He had about forty text messages from this morning until right that moment.

You shake your head. :”I have work tomorrow night, but i’m off Monday.” You say, looking up from your own phone. You had been texting your sister about your plans for the Holidays. “My sister wants to know where you’re from, and what you do and i dont think she’ll take ‘navy dude’ as an answer” Bob looks at you, slightly offended.

“Navy dude?” He asks, setting his phone down for just a moment. “Sunny, i’m not just a ‘navy dude’, i’m a weapons system officer. I control the weapons and radar in multi million dollar government aircraft.” He looked completely offended by your terminology and you struggled to hold in a giggle at the way he was explaining his official job title to you. “..and I’m from Montana.”

“That explains the accent.” You say, texting your sister back.

Bob scoffs. “Accent?” He’d never been told he had an accent before. “Where are you from? This is basic stuff we should probably know about each other if we want people to believe this, you know?” You hummed in response, he was definitely right. “Also, Phoenix wants to know what your instagram is..”

“Well, that depends on how much you want your friends to know about me.” You say, setting your phone down to look at him. He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed again. You have the sudden urge to reach across the damn couch and smooth the area with your thumb, but you resist. “Don’t look at me like that, you know what i mean. Are they the judgemental type?” He opens his mouth, as if to protest and say no, but then closes it and gives a slight nod. “Okay, so fake insta it is.”

It was a good thing you already had a fake instagram account for your grandmother and other family members because it made it a hell of alot easier for you. “A fake instagram? Won’t they think something is weird if it doesn’t have any pictures of us together on it?” He asks, not fully sure of your plan. You roll your eyes and maneuver yourself so you’re laying in Bob’s lap, looking directly up at him.

His entire body goes stiff and you can’t tell if its from surprise or from being uncomfortable with your proximity, but you don’t move and after a few moments his thigh muscles untense. He smells good, you realize as you breathe in slightly. “My fake account isn’t exactly fake, okay?” You say, opening the instagram app on your phone and switching it to your second profile. “It’s just not the one I use mainly that i post on for my friends or well, if you were actually my boyfriend, you, to see..”

“Then what is the point of it?” He asks looking down at you, his accent flowing smoothly through you. His voice was a little quieter now that you were so close to him, and in all honesty you didn’t mind it one bit.

You chuckle, giving him your phone so he can scroll through it. “I normally use it for my grandma and other family members, so they won’t have a damn heart attack..they already don’t like my line of work, there’s no need to go killing them with some pictures.” Bob hums in response, scrolling through a few of the posts. “It’s the extremely tame version of my main account.”

His phone pings again and he grunts, rolling his eyes. Before he can even try to hand you your own back, you grab his off the arm of the couch above you and thank god that it was already unlocked. You gasp at the text. “Hangman wants proof that im a real girl and not just a figment of your imagination.” You say, an idea coming to mind. You roll off of his lap and quickly stand, pulling him by the forearm to his feet as he makes a disgruntled noise.

You lead him down the small hallway, past your bedroom and into your bathroom (which was thankfully not its usual disastrous mess of makeup and lingerie scattered everywhere). “Okay, stand there..” You grab him by the biceps, shocked at how solid they are because he honestly didn’t seem to be overly buff to you, and position him exactly where you want him.

“Sunny, what’re we doin’?” He sighs, letting you move him around every which way. He had to admit, he liked the way you grabbed his arms, the way you squeezed at his biceps. He tried not to let his mind linger too much on it though, tried not to notice the way that your fingertips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake every time they lingered anywhere on his bare skin.

“Taking pictures, duh.” You say as if it should have been obvious. You turn around, satisfied with his position, and face the mirror yourself, positioning his arm around your shoulders and over your chest as you press back against his surprisingly solid body. You weren’t exactly a short person by any means, but there was definitely a noticeable height difference between you and him. Your head just barely cleared his shoulders, his chin able to rest perfectly onto of your head. It made for a cute photo, you thought and you pretended not to notice the goofy smirk on his face as you captured the photo as stealthily as you could, leaning back into his chest as his chin rested on top of your head, his arm over your chest and your hand wrapped around his forearm as you took the picture, acutely aware of his hand just over the waistband of your lululemon pants.

You hum, thinking about what other positions would be cute enough to send to his friends and post to your fake insta account, you wanted to hard launch him to your family too if you were hard launching to his friends. You turn the camera of his phone front facing, and set it up to take rapid photos on a timer before you abruptly turn around and jump up, locking your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Smile at me.” You say, as your hand snakes up into his hair. You didn’t really have to though because he was already smiling at you in surprise as you leaned your forehead against his. “I didn’t think you’d be able to hold me.” You giggle suddenly, and the sound makes his smile grow wider as he adjusts his hands so they’re fulling on your ass, supporting you as he drops his head to your shoulder.

The whole ordeal of the photo session takes about fifteen minutes or so, and when you’re finished you lead him back out into the living room. “Sorry to jump on you like that, but i had to catch you off guard, i wanted it to look believable.” You say, sitting back down on the couch. He only hums in response, taking a spot next to you as he watches you pick through your favorite photos in his camera roll to text to yourself.

“You’re awfully good at that,” He ques, watching you edit some of the photos you had sent to your own phone, before you compose an instagram post of the best ones. “I always just take them and post them, i never thought that filters really mattered..”

You chuckle at the man, shaking your head. “What’s your instagram, bobby?” You ask, using your nickname for him as you type out a caption for the post.

“Oh, uh,” a slight blush heats up his neck and face and he clears his throat before responding. “It’s @thewizzo ..natasha actually came up with the handle.” You type it into your caption, eyebrows furrowed. You’re about to ask him what the hell a wizzo is when he answers it for you. “It’s uh, well, sometimes its a nickname, or another acronym for WSO..”

“Oh, snazzy..” You say showing him the post. It was a series of four photos and a small, but cute caption.

“Is it Bobby approved?” You ask. He gives you an affirmative nod and you hit the post button, knowing it would only be a matter of minutes before your sister and brother blow up your phone. “Okay, well, here’s to our fake relationship!” You say, attaching the photo of Bob holding you with his hands on your ass to a text with your instagram handle and sending it to his friends group chat.

The phone pings before you’ve even handed it back to him.

Hangman: holy fuck she’s real. Phee: shut up you moron, im following her rn!! Rooster: …wait i thought i was imagining this conversation last night Payback: oh, shit..way to go Bob!!

taglist!

@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar

@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks

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lutewife · 2 months

Note

luci with a short ma le reader the uses as an arm rest please?

Shorter!reader, male!reader, reader has anger issues, Lucifer is a smug mf, mutual pining

Warnings: Silliness all the way

Notes: I gotchu darlin'. My first ever male reader request, finally!! Sorry if it's too short (get it? short haha...), I have writer's block rn, so it's hard for me to even get to work 🥹🥹 But I cannot leave my requests hangin', so have it, nevertheless! Enjoy.

First of all, damn how come you're shorter than Lucifer?

Well, at least you're taller than Niffty, that's something. I'm sorry

The demon wonders that too when he first meets you. Considering that the first thing you do is...

Laugh at him.

"Damn, who would've thought that the king of hell would be this..." You gesticulate with your hand. "...Small."

You have the nerve to behave like that towards him, I'll give you that.

But the sight of Lucifer standing next to Alastor, who's a freaking giant compared to him is just too funny.

Until the irritated monarch comes up to you.

Everything would be fine, if it weren't for that you are MUCH shorter than him.

Damn it, genes!

The sight from above would be even funnier; an angry duckling, just looking up.

But he wasn't looking up, he was looking down. And he was fucking terrifying.

But hot.

You were just about to say "Sorry, daddy", but bit your tongue.

That would be kinda gay.

And a death wish to the boot.

But to your surprise, you weren't dead — yet. Instead, you felt something resting on your head.

Which was his arm.

How the tables have turned...

"Sooorry, couldn't hear you from down there, what were you saying?" He exaggerates smugly and leans into you even more, causing you to bend under the weight.

Oh, come on! You're not even that short! (You are.)

You try to free yourself from the fallen angel's strength, but fail miserably, as his smile widens even more.

So this is your life now...

From now on, whenever Lucifer visited the hotel, he bullied you, mercilessly.

Although the demon wouldn't admit it himself, it was only because he took a liking to you and your snarky behaviour.

That's why he loved turning it against you.

You were drinking with Husk? Lucifer sat next to you and used your head as an arm rest, causing you to slouch in your seat, comically.

You were trying to decorate the hotel with everyone and couldn't reach somewhere?

"Hey, dumbasses! I can't reach the place you made me 'decorate'!" You yelled with irritation. Why was the world always against you? After Angel told you to chill and Charlie apologized a little too much, Lucifer appeared. "Dad?! What're you..." "Don't worry sweetie, I got this." After saying this, he immediately scoops you up and using his wings, he flies up to the place (or rather much higher than it was needed). You blush furiously and swear him out in every language you know, just to hide the fact, that you like being bridal carried by him a little too much. Gay. "Y-You! You dumbass king! You, you, you...! You dumbo! Dumb bitch!" "Stop struggling! Is dumb the only word you know?!"

Anyway, you try to break free, and it ends with you falling on Lucifer and him falling face flat on the floor. Ouch.

Well, to put it mildly, your relationship was... Funny. One day, you were vibing in the library, as usual. But you couldn't reach the book on the last shelve, even after standing on a stool. Great. (Un)fortunely for you, Lucifer was just looking for you. Seeing you struggle as always put a smile on his face. "Need some help with getting that?" "Shut the fuck up. I can get this myself." You jumped up on the stool, but with no result. You tried to do it more times, but it was the same. "Sooooo?" God, you wanted to wipe his stupid, smug grin off his face. But you didn't have a choice. Bearing yourself, you groaned. "Get that for me." "Couldn't hear you from down there, what did you say?" "I'm... I'm literally higher than you, now." He ignored his obvious slip up and you sighed. "Can you..." You groaned again. "... Please, get that for me?" When you still didn't receive a reaction, you asked, as if on the verge of irritation. "...Seriously?" "Yes." He straightened out. You facepalmed, cringing, but said it either way, in monotone voice. "Oh, the all mighty and incredibly hot king of hell, please, for fuck's sake, GET ME THE BOOK!" Wow. You really had stroked his ego with that. Apart from the last part. "Gladly." In a blink of an eye, he flies up and, as if teasingly, leans on you to reach the shelf. Unfortunately, the stool you were standing on wasn't a very stable thing. So naturally, you fell down. And it looked painful. Lucifer hadn't expected that in the slightest, probably forgetting his strength. So when you let out a pained groan, he starts to panic. Blabbering incoherently, he fails to notice that you are okay and have literally stood up a while ago. Your irritation has now reached its peak. Who gave him the right to be this fucking cute while being so annoying at the same time?! You pull the literal king of hell by his bow tie to reach your level. Your noses were basically touching at this point. You definitely were intruding his personal space, but your anger was stronger than your common sense. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up." You whispered harshly. And as if subconsciously, without even feeling the movement of your body, you pulled him into a kiss, in which you expressed all of your pent-up frustration. Utterly flustered Lucifer didn't even know how to react, so he just gave into your heated frustration. After a while though, you move away and look into his confused eyes, slowly realising what you did. You turn around, not to show your undoubtedly too red face. "You are so fucking annoying, dumbass." You just say, trying not to voice break while doing so. You quickly run away from the situation, leaving the profusely blushing Lucifer completely flabbergasted. And then... "LET'S FUCKING GOOO!" You just cheered, being able to be finally honest.

End notes: Maybe it's not any good, but I tried to cook up something a little different! I hope you've enjoyed this lil' drabble and stay tuned for new posts!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin x reader

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queenimmadolla · 2 years

Note

NEED MORE PENNY AND DAD!EDDIE ITS SO CUTE

yeah, this little family kind of owns my ass now so i’m glad you love them! and thank you for being my first request, i literally dropped everything i was doing cause i wanted to get this out tonight! sorry if the formatting is shit, posting on mobile is weird for me. will tweak any mistakes tomorrow!

Look Who’s Talking

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: eddie takes his three year old shopping. obviously, cuteness ensues. **sequel to Penny for Your Thoughts**

warnings: none, i think. oh, except PREGNANCY WHAAAAT.

gif by corrodedcoffins

“We’re gonna get you some cool new threads, pretty girl. I’m thinking slacks.”

The look Penny gave him made him snicker, her eyebrows furrowed together as she eyed him like she regretted not being able to opt out of this. Sure, she had no idea what slacks were, but clearly she was not fond of the word.

Penny was in need of some new clothes, the now three year old was beginning to outgrow most of her wardrobe. She even had little high waters, and that made his eyes water. His baby was growing, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Normally, shopping was a family activity but you were incredibly irritable lately and Eddie figured you could use some alone time to relax. You hadn’t protested too hard when he offered to take Penny to pick out a couple of new toddler ‘fits. Now that she didn’t demand a nipple every once in a while, it was easier to take Penny places with him.

Like the outdoor shopping center, a recent addition to Hawkins.

“Can we get snacks, too?” Came her cute little voice as he unbuckled her from her carseat.

She’d always been a bit of babbler from the moment she started trying to communicate, was speaking a couple of broken phrases here and there a little after she had turned two but it wasn’t until after her third birthday that she figured words out. Like really well. Scarily, well.

Penny went from baby talk and referring to herself in third person to asking him if he could sit down with her on his lap so she could tell him about how ‘tiwed in the hawt’—she still had trouble with her ‘r’s—she’d get when she spends her day making a city with her building blocks before her bedtime only to wake up and find the city back in her toy box. All her hard work gone.

From just ‘Daddy, no eat Penny’s toes! Penny’s toes not fo’ eatin’ to ‘Daddy, why awe you twying to eat my feets foe? Thewa not vewy yummy, not wike ‘spetti.’, all within the span of less than a year. Broke and warmed his heart. She immediately clung to him like a baby koala as he pulled her entirely out of the van and shut the door, letting her dad press a multitude of kisses into her still baby fat filled cheeks. “Yeah, we’ll grab something on the way out.”

“You got a big nose, daddy.” She also had no filter, something you both had to be incredibly cautious about because it wasn’t a matter of if she would repeat something. It was when. And Penny had already told Wayne how ‘fuckin ‘cited’ she was with her approaching promotion.

Eddie smirked at the memory of last Christmas and the way you’d immediately disappeared into the kitchen—because it had totally been you that fucked up—as he made his way to the kids clothing store you bought most of Penny’s clothes from. The bell above the door sounded as they entered, and Eddie crouched down to set Penny on her legs.

He loved holding her, but he wanted to get her comfortable with walking around in public, and a confined setting—while she had a lot more of her impulses under control, the need to immediately run free and wild when her parents put her down in most settings was still hard for her to ignore—such as a store was the perfect opportunity. He just couldn’t take his eyes off of her or he’d have a heart attack.

“Alright, lucky Penny. What colors are we thinking about for your fall wardrobe?” He asked, pulling something tan and fluffy off of a rack for her to inspect.

She reached a little hand up to scratch at her head, fingers gripping the curls for a moment as she tried to figure out a way to convey to her daddy that what he was holding up was very ugly.

“Uhm, I dunno. Not that. Maybe Gween? I wike gween, and yellow. And pink. Owange is a hawd colow, huh daddy?” He had no idea what she meant by that, but he agreed nonetheless. His baby was always right.

Eddie put the ugly article of clothing back, letting Penny wander around to whatever caught her eye.

Except, she just kept walking, didn’t even bother looking at anything. “What about this one?” He asked, pulling a random little green sweater out for her in an attempt to catch her attention. Before he could even get a good look at it, she was letting out the most dramatic of little screams.

“DUCK! WOOK! WOOK, DADDY! ’S A DUCKIE!” She pointed at the embellishment on the front of the sweater, and sure enough, it was a duck. And not even a cute little cartoon one, it was an embellishment of an actual duck. Eddie knew it was her latest obsession, along with city construction, but he hadn’t realized the form of it didn’t matter to her.

“Alright, we found our first pick.” He double checked to make sure it was the right size before letting her hold onto it. The way she cradled it to her chest, mumbling gibberish to it reminded him a lot of Gollum. Two minutes later she got tired of holding it, so it ended up thrown over his shoulder.A blue blouse, a pair of pink overalls, pink sweats, pink pants, three pairs of little jeans, an orange sweater, two care bears shirts, three packs of socks—those she wanted to hold, cradling them like babies despite the fact that Eddie knew how much she hated socks—and the green duck sweater later, Eddie was pretty satisfied with their little shopping haul.

Penny had kept up a continuous stream of commentary ranging from her opinions on the selections to fleeting thoughts she had a couple of ‘yestertimes’ ago with absolutely no relation to their bonding time, but it was still endearing to Eddie. Everything she did, was. Eddie absolutely adored how random she was. She’d be going on and on about how ducks aren’t scary like chickens, how you promised her you’d protect her from them forever, then she’d remember he existed or something because she’d turn around and hug his leg—and she put her all into hugs—giving his jeans a kiss before looking up at him with those big, beautiful brown eyes. His eyes looking up at him through a face so similar to yours.

Fuck, you guys made a whole, perfect little human together. That’s all the proof he needs to know magic is real.

“I wuvs you, daddy.”

His heart wouldn’t ever not melt for her.

“I love you, too, baby.” He choked out through the emotions making his throat feel tight. “Daddy loves you so much.”

“Yes.” Is all she said, leaning up on his leg for a few moments before she was off again. Eddie followed immediately after her, eyebrows pinching together in confusion for a moment. Something didn’t feel right. Something was missing.

“Penny.”

“Yes?” She responded, curls bouncing as she felt the need to start trying her hardest to hop along instead of walk.

“Where are the socks?”

“Yes.”

After they’d double backed around the store and found the pack of socks—Eddie only needed to watch her glance nervously at a certain shoe box a couple of times—he figured it was check out time.

So did the woman who rang them up, only it wasn’t just the clothes she was checking out, her blue eyes raked over his frame with lust clouded eyes.

“She yours?” The blonde asked, folding all the little articles of clothing before placing them into a bag.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s response was bleak, doing his best to mask his annoyance. He had gotten used to being hit on when it was just him and Penny, but it didn’t mean that he liked it. The thought of any women thinking they could take your place—whether they know you existed or not—in his and Penny’s lives made his blood boil.

“Figured. She’s cute. Must have got it from you.” And he really hated it when they did it right in hearing range of his daughter.

He glanced down at your little mini me, relieved to see her distracted by something in the display case that was eye level with her.

“She looks more like her mom,” Eddie took great satisfaction in seeing how red with embarrassment her face got. Served her fucking right, hitting on guys with babies with no knowledge of whether or not they’re going home to someone.

“O-Oh, she must be really beautiful then.” She didn’t look back up at him as she rang him up, and before Eddie could hand her the money, a chubby little hand started tapping at the glass display.

Eddie popped down in a squat to Penny’s height, mouth breaking out into a wide grin when he realized exactly what it was Penny had decided she wanted.

Oh, you were gonna lose your shit.

“Honey, we’re home!” Eddie announced as he unlocked the front door, the bag of clothes in one hand, and Penny in the other arm.At the sound of their arrival, you put the ice cream you’d been eating straight out of the carton back into the freezer and made your way towards the living room to greet them.

The overwhelming amount of cuteness stopped you short.“Oh my god.”

Eddie had his sunglasses on. Paired with the dark long sleeve and his leather jacket, it was a dangerous combo. You would have jumped his bones if it weren’t for the real attention grabber in his arms.

“Imma medohead, mama!”

Penny’s curls were significantly more wild when compared to how they were before the two of them had left, she had what looked like cinnamon smeared around her mouth and all over her pink ‘Girl Power’ shirt. But it was the mini pair of sunglasses on her face that did you in.

Identical to her dad’s.

They were fucking matching.

If you weren’t already waiting for the current bun in your oven to be ready, you would’ve been setting it to preheat for tonight.

But wait, there’s more.

Eddie leaned forward to give you a thorough—but kid-viewing friendly—kiss before he pulled out another small pair from the pocket of his jacket.

“For whenever our little guy decides to make his entrance.”

May whatever God is around help you.

“Don’t move, I gotta get the camera.”

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libby-for-life · 2 months

Note

So, can you do a sick one-shot with Adam and Lucifer? Maybe Adam has a fever and Lucifer reluctantly takes care of him. But then he starts to hallucinate things. Stuff that makes Lucifer question things about what he believes.

Oh? A challenge, hu? Since you didn't specify if this was my version of Adamsapple, I'm just going to assume that this is more traditional Adamsapple and go from there.

Sinner!Adam under contract with Lucifer.

Lucifer stood before Charlie with a sigh, feeling irritated. "Are you telling me that there isn't anyone else who can take care of him? I don't have time to deal with a whiney brat who is probably faking all this just to get attention," he grumbled. The devil was not convinced that Adam was genuinely sick. He wouldn't put it past him to fake it to receive special treatment.

Charlie replied, "Normally, I would take care of it, but I have a lot of paperwork to deal with." She gestured towards her desk, which was piled high with papers, making Lucifer wince. "Vaggie is busy with Niffty, Angel Dust and Husk are working, and Alastor is not an... option."

Lucifer shivered at the thought of Alastor taking care of Adam. The devil was under contract to protect the idiot from harm, but it would end badly for Adam if Alastor was involved. "Alright, I'll do it," he said, resigned.

"Thank you, Dad!" Charlie beamed at him, making him feel a little better. Teleporting to Adam's room, Lucifer hoped to catch him in the act of faking it but found himself in a dark room with the curtains drawn. The only thing he could see was a lump on Adam's bed.

Frustrated, the devil snapped his fingers, and the lights turned on. Adam let out a whimper, making Lucifer roll his eyes. "Oh, stop it. Nobody is buying this pity act," he said sternly.

When he got no reply, he growled again, "The hard way it is then." He stomped over to the sinner's bed and ripped the blankets off him. "Get up now!" Lucifer was done playing games. If Adam was going to continue acting this way, he didn't mind using force to beat some sense into him.

However, to his surprise, Adam didn't yell, swear, or even glare at him. Instead, he let out another whimper. This time, Lucifer actually looked at Adam and saw just how different he looked. His gray skin had an ashy color, his breath was labored, and his shirt was missing, revealing how sweaty he was. It was clear that Adam was genuinely sick.

Lucifer felt slightly guilty for making Adam uncomfortable when it was clear he was miserable with a fever.

Placing a hand on the sinner's forehead, he hissed at the heat. "Oh, you are sick, aren't you?" He murmured. "Alright, let's sit you up."

Soon, Adam was propped up on pillows, wrapped up in comfortable blankets, and looking at Lucifer with dazed eyes. The devil knew that the demon wasn't truly seeing him due to his sickness.

Gently draping a cool cloth onto Adam's forehead, he noticed how the sinner's eyes followed his every move.

"You're so beautiful...." Adam slurred.

Lucifer froze and looked at him confused. "Hu?" He must've been really out of it if he was complimenting him.

"Beautiful...so beautiful. I can see why she left me...I didn't stand a chance."

Lucifer grimaced when he realized that Adam must've been talking about Eden. Whether it was Eve or Lilith he was referring to was still being questioned in Lucifer's mind.

"Let's not waste your energy." Lucifer finally said.

Adam whimpered again but he continued talking. "Lilith was beautiful too...but she didn't like me...why did she not like me?"

"Maybe because you were a narcissistic dick who wanted to control her?" Lucifer said with a glare. Any kind of sympathy he had for the sinner was gone. How could Adam even ask that?!

Adam shook his head, clearly too out of it to understand that the devil was insulting him. "That's not what she said..." He slurred out. A look of sadness came over Adam and, to Lucifer's growing discomfort, looked like he was going to cry.

"She told me I was disgusting...that she didn't want to stand next to someone so ugly." Lucifer was too stunned to speak. What?

"She didn't like me talking. I talk too much. She liked to gag me when she couldn't stand the noise. It hurt...." Adam was now crying, big tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Lucifer immediately asked. If he hated how Lilith treated him, especially if it hurt, then why didn't he make her stop? Adam certainly never backed down from a fight. In fact, he was usually starting them.

"I wanted her to like me..." Adam replied with a groan. His breathing seemed labored. "If I did what she wanted...then she'll like me....even if it hurt. Even if it made me cry." Adam furrowed his eyebrows, his hazy eyes looking into the distance. "No...she didn't like me crying. She said it was annoying and ugly so I don't do it anymore." It was ironic with the tears streaming down his face.

Adam turned his golden eyes to the devil who flinched at the devastating but resigned look on his face. "I guess I didn't do it good enough...she found someone better...someone smarter...."

A large hand cupped Lucifer's cheek. "Who can compete with angels?" And then he passed out. Lucifer didn't know that he was holding his breath until he started gasping. What the fuck?

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #sickfic #oneshot #lilith

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rinhaler · 1 month

Text

Get Your Passport, 'Cause We Runnin' Off

CHAPTER SUMMARY : the day of the big trip has arrived, and you're stuck with your bully for the whole ride there. maybe he'll be nice for a change...

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, PG chapter tbh, daddy kink mention??, attempted/thwarted bullying.

WORDS : 3.9k

notes : every friday was a funny joke right guys? right?

LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride tomorrow?” Gojo queries as he helps fill your fridge and cupboards with food he picked up for you. It's his way of an apology without actually saying the pivotal words. He told Yuuji he’d look out for you, and he will keep his promise. A few groceries are bound to make him look good in both your eyes and the eyes of your boyfriend.

“Yeah I’m sure. Toji is picking me up from here and then there’s a coach to take us out of town for our field trip.” you inform him.

He offers a smirk and silences himself as he continues to empty the bags. It's a devious look, and you know he has something to say. You aren't sure if you even want to know, but there's just something so irritating about Satoru Gojo that makes you think you'll die if you don’t pry whatever it is out of him.

“Could the reason that you’re declining my offer be that I don’t have what Toji has?” he wonders. You quirk your eyebrow in confusion; hoping it will prompt him to continue. “I mean, Toji has a perfect doppelgänger, right? A mini me, closer to your age.”

“What are you implying, Gojo?” you speak, an accusatory tone bleaching your words.

“Do you… like Megumi?” he inquires.

You wish you never asked.

You can’t help but scoff at that. He couldn’t have found a more inappropriate tree to bark up. Like Megumi? You can barely even stomach looking at him. He’s evil incarnate and, quite frankly, you hate him. You’ve tried being nice to him. You’ve tried being cordial. There isn’t much you haven’t tried to make your life easier when it comes to Megumi, nothing works. So liking him is completely out of the question.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” you laugh, helping him with the last of the shopping so that you can shoo him out quicker. He watches you frantically pick everything up and put it away, he can tell what you’re doing.

Did he touch a nerve?

“I’m with Yuuji,” you halt, a revolted look in your eye informing him of your now soured mood. “I mean, are you… stupid? Megumi has been bullying me since he moved into my art class, actually. So, maybe you should—”

“Alright, alright. No need to get defensive.” he snickers, pulling a lollipop out of his jacket pocket to suckle on as he heads towards the exit.

“I’m not being defensive. You’re being annoying.”

“Yeah? Well why is it that you’d rather take a ride with Papaguro over me. Is it him you like?” he pushes. It’s like he’s trying to make you snap.

“I. Have. A. Boyfriend!” you remind him, yet again, “Toji is hot, yes, in a friend’s dad calling you kiddo type of way. I guess. But he’s just that, a dad. He treats me like his own kid, and I have no interest in him passed being friends.” you explain, hoping to satiate Gojo’s curiosity enough to make him drop the subject.

“Do you call Yuuji daddy when you fuck? Giving off major kink vibes right now, sweetheart.”

“Get out.” you demand.

“Huh? Wait I was just—”

“Out! Gojo, out! You’re done. Get out of my house.” you tell him with a completely straight face. He holds his hands up in surrender as he makes his way towards your front door to leave. You’ve never met anyone as insufferable as Gojo in your life. Not even Megumi is as bad as him. You watch him from your door as you see him walk towards his car. When he opens the door, you decide to offer him some parting words. “Toji doesn’t like you very much, it’s like he doesn’t trust you. And I’m not sure if I do either.”

“Do you know what Toji did to his own kid? Abandoning him after his mother died?” he questions.

“Yeah. I do.”

“And you trust that guy and not me? Tch.” he sits behind the wheel and starts up his car. “Thought you were smarter than that, babe. I’ll see you around.”

The wait for Toji to pick you up is nauseating. It’s your first ride with both him and Megumi in the car. The younger Fushiguro had opted to catch a ride into school with his sister when he heard the news of Toji becoming your new chauffer. But with Tsumiki at work and zero desire to risk taking the bus and missing the coach, his dad became the safest option.

He sits in the back, much to your surprise, giving him the freedom to manspread across the backseat. Toji couldn’t coax many words out of you, your nerves were shot. Of course you said good morning and told him that you were doing okay, but that was as much as he could get.

“Be nice to her today, shit head.” Toji orders. He laughs when he feels Megumi kick the back of his seat in protest.

You shake it off. Everything. His voice, Megumi’s defiance. It all crumbles away as you look out of the window and pretend you’re a cloud.

“Looks like rain…” you sigh. They both hear you, but neither of them comments. The sky couldn’t be bluer and the sun is blaring down. Even the sidewalks are hot to the touch if you were to walk on them with bare feet.

“I’m serious Megumi. No funny shit today, best behaviour.”

“Tell him I’ve been nice to you so he shuts his fucking mouth. I’ve not been giving you any shit, have I?” Megumi speaks, kicking the back of your seat, eagerly awaiting a response. You sigh, and smile. But why should you keep covering for him? Today is going to be hellish whether he leaves you alone or not.

May as well get him in trouble with his darling dad.

“Are you counting when you locked us in the bathroom together? Or the other day when you when you called me an entitled bitch? Besides that, no. You’ve been so lovely to me ‘Gumi.” you hum, continuing to look out of the window.

The argument that breaks out between them goes completely over your head. The only thing on your mind is the sky. You wonder what colour the sky is where Yuuji is right now. Will he look at it and think of you, too? What is the sky like for him? Are you even on his mind? You wish he’d call, you long to hear his voice.

“Little bastard. I know you’re stupid, but I’m wonderin’ now if you’re fuckin’ deaf too. Because I’m sure I’ve told you to quit picking on her.” Toji scolds.

“I’ve done worse. Snitch.” he mutters under his breath.

“Listen to me, Megumi. Leave her the fuck alone. I won’t tell you again. She hasn’t done shit to you so stop making her life difficult for no God damn reason. Thought Yuuji was your friend, so what the fuck is all this for?” Toji continues as he keeps looking in the mirror so that he can stare at his son. It goes ignored as Megumi slumps back into himself and plays his music through his headphones loud enough to deafen the world around him. “Why didn’t you tell me about all that shit he did, princess?” he asks. You shrug your shoulders, ignoring him similarly to how Megumi was.

What a pair of brats.

He lets you both out of the car and stops you both from going anywhere before he says what he needs to say.

“You. Best fuckin’ behaviour or I’ll kick the shit out of you when you get home.” he warns his son as he ruffles his hair. He leaves right after that, heading in the direction of the coach eager to get a good seat. “And you, princess, call me if anything happens. I’ve got a meeting later but other than that I’m free. I’ll drive down to wherever the fuck you’re going and pick you up myself if he acts up.”

“I’ll be fine, Toji. Enjoy your day.”

“Yeah, you too.” he smiles, “Have a safe trip, kiddo.”

You feel yourself smiling and blood rushing to your face at the new nickname he’s bestowed upon you. It wouldn’t have made you as giddy if not for your meaningless conversation with Gojo.

Kiddo, huh? How embarrassing.

Maybe he was right about you having a daddy kink, after all.

You’ll have to let Yuuji know when you speak to him.

The coach is full of students and teachers, and most of the best seats are taken. Though, you do manage to find two unoccupied seats together, you manage to snag them before anyone else does.

Megumi is a few rows ahead of you on the opposite side of the bus; you catch him looking over his shoulders a few times at you. A furious deathly glare in his eyes, clearly still bitter over you ratting him out to Toji this morning.

He’s sitting alone, too, like he often does.

It surprises you that the mean girls of your class aren’t fawning over him.

And almost as if you summoned them, you feel a tug on your hair from behind. The redhead. The blonde traps you in by the window as she takes a seat beside you. Your heart is racing.

You’re sick of this.

Sick of them.

Sick of everything.

And having these two harass you the entire way is going to make this an even longer journey than it already is.

“Maybe we could ditch the group and have some cocktails.” the redhead jokes from behind you. “We had a great time last time we all got drunk together, right?” she snickers, earning a laugh from her friend in the process.

They become stiff and polite in an instant, and you don't even notice. You're too focused on using the window as your escape once more, imagining yourself as a drifting cloud with the hope it'll help you drown out their cruel words for the rest of the journey.

You gasp when you feel fingers digging into the fat of your underarm, gripping harshly enough to make you yelp.

“Get off me!” you shout.

You assume it's one of the girls trying to hurt you.

But you're wrong. Very wrong.

It's Megumi.

Is he trying to rescue you?

He tilts his head in the direction of the seats he's sitting in, telling you that he wants you to come with him. Noting that Megumi often chose words over actions, you decide he was the lesser of two evils and go with him. You pick up his backpack that he used to save your seat and get yourself comfortable beside the window.

“Is there a reason that you two keep bugging her? I asked you for one favour that you couldn’t even fucking follow. Are you trying to make up for it?” Megumi wonders. He speaks in hushed tones, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.

“We’re doing it for you, babe! We know you hate her, and—”

“I’m not gonna fuck either of you, y’know? I was using you. And I didn’t fucking ask you to do anything for me after the club. Leave me and leave her alone.”

They both look at you with disdain. You can’t help but laugh, quickly covering your mouth and looking out of the window to disguise it. Their expressions are too funny not to laugh at.

They're acting as if you casted some witchcraft over Megumi to make him turn on them. If they had any common sense, they’d realise he is just an asshole who uses people to get what he wants. His thigh rests against yours when he sits back down. It’s nice, for some reason, feeling caged in by someone as threatening as Megumi.

He’s done this before in a way that sent fear directly to your heart. He did it to intimidate you.

But this… is different. It’s protective.

His head rests back against the tall back of the coach seats as he listens to his music. His head lolls to the side, and for whatever reason he decides to open his eyes.

And, of course, he’s greeted to the sight of the girls. His eyes roll and he proceeds to flip them off, clearly done with entertaining them for a second longer.

“Why did you do that, Megumi?” you ask, genuinely curious as to why he decided to save you from them.

“Shut up. Listenin’ to my music.” he hisses back.

You shrug your shoulders, knowing it’s best not to push him. You reach down to pick up your sturdy tote bag and pull out a colour by numbers book and a pack of felt tip pens.

You hear him scoff when you pull down the tray on the back of the seat in front of you so that you can start to colour in. It goes over your head, though, instead of making a biting remark you simply flip him off with a smile.

You hear him clear his throat and turn his body away from you. His eyes flutter closed, and you can only assume he’s trying to nap. It’s fair enough, you think, the coach trip is three hours long. Maybe he didn’t get much sleep last night.

He grunts as he turns back to face you. Though he seems a little disoriented. Does he realise he fell asleep? He’d been lightly snoring for ten minutes.

He looks down at your colouring book, grunting in disapproval as you continue doing your best to remain within the black lines.

“God I fucking hate you.” he mutters.

“Excuse me? You’re the one who dragged me over here!” you snap back.

“Yeah, that was before I knew you were the type of person to colour things in wrong. Why is the fucking dolphin purple?” he laughs a little as he speaks, clearly amused with himself as he berates your colouring skills.

“I like purple. It’s cute!”

“Give me a page, I��ll show you how it’s done.”

“Huh?”

“Give me a page.”

“You want me to rip out a page of my brand new—”

“I’m bored! Give me one to colour in properly.” he demands.

You flip through the pages heading towards the back. There are a few pages you want to do yourself, so you refrain from tearing them. He studies your face and the changes in expression as you see pages you like and want to keep for yourself. Until finally, you find a page with a lion in the wild. It’s so cute, you almost don’t want to give him it. But before you can change your mind, he snatches the book out of your hand and tears it out carefully himself.

“Hey!” you object, but it’s too late.

“Shut up. You’d only ruin it anyway. You know lions aren’t green, right?”

“You shut up.” you moan at him, returning to the page you’d been colouring and dipping your fingers into your pack of felt tips to get another pen. You barely blink before they’re missing from your hands and have been stolen by Megumi as he fishes around looking for a colour he needs. “Those are mine!”

“Heard of sharing?” he responds.

“You’re meant to ask if you can share.” you inform him. “You are the worst art student I’ve ever met. Don’t you have anything of your own?”

“Just shut up and colour your stupid purple dolphin, princess. Be a good girl and share your pens.” he teases as he begins to fill in the lions fur in a golden yellow.

You cannot stand how easily he can get into your head. Because now you are second guessing yourself and your decision. Maybe a purple dolphin wasn’t the brightest idea. But you do like purple! It takes more than a moment to calm the storm in your mind as you battle against his words and your feelings.

There are tons of artists who used colour ‘incorrectly’. Henri Matisse’s Femme au Chapeau springs to mind in a vividly clear image. You decide that you won’t stop there. Every single colour you are about to choose will be ‘wrong’. Why not make the sea pink and the trees blue? Maybe the sand will be red and the sky yellow? It’s your God damn colouring book that you paid for with your own money.

Colouring alone passes an entire hour. Megumi can’t believe his eyes when you show him your finished page. You have a prideful look on your face. And he nods. Is that… approval?

“I actually don’t hate it.” he tells you.

“Thanks. I think?”

He presents his own, looking slightly disappointed in comparison to yours. It’s wrong, but so very right. It’s fun and exciting to look at. His, on the other hand, is boring. It’s how it should be, but it isn’t as entertaining as yours.

“Give me another one, I wanna make it like yours.” he demands.

“A please wouldn’t hurt once in a while.”

He takes your book from you, looking for a page he’d like to colour in. His fingers hover over an elephant you had your eye on. You’re begging that he doesn’t tear it to colour in himself. You scrunch your eyes as you prepare to hear the all too recognisable sound of paper ripping. But instead, a simple ‘tch’ leaves his lips as he flips the page.

“Please may I take this page?” he asks, pointing at a bear in the woods. You nod, grateful that you have the elephant all to yourself. You both get to work, and you are both filled with glee as he begins to colour the friendly brown bear in a sky blue colour. You decide to colour your elephant red, although you regret it almost instantly. You hope you’ll be able to fix it.

“So, you still haven’t told me why you saved me from those girls.” you remind him, prodding for information as to why he decided to be your knight in shining armour.

“So?”

“Why did you rescue me?” you bluntly ask.

“Why did you rat me out to my dad this morning?” he questions back. It steals your breath for a moment, you have no idea what to say.

Why did you do it? You’re just mad at the world, you suppose. He hadn’t actually done anything particularly awful. Nothing to scare you or force a lump in your throat, so you had no reason to tell Toji. But you did. You’re suffering without Yuuji. Why should you be the only miserable one?

“Why did you call me ‘Gumi?” he torments with a sinister smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry about this morning. And, thank you for saving me. It’s been tough since Yuuji left, and—”

“I don’t care.” he tells you, pulling his headphones back over his ears as he starts to colour again. You shrug, assuming you won’t hear from him again until he finishes his up-and-coming masterpiece. “You piss me off, y’know?”

“Feelings mutual, trust me.”

“Listen. I’ve never had a friendship with a girl before. I just sleep with ‘em, normally. But you’re not a dumb cunt on legs like the rest. I wanted to try with you, for Yuuji, but you’re so fucking nosy.” he informs you.

“You’re disgusting. You’d known me all of two minutes and decided I was a good for nothing whore. I didn’t do anything to deserve any of the things you did to me.” you tell him, doing your best to keep your volume lowered so nobody around would be able to hear you.

“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t like talking about my personal life with anyone and you just… you know. Anyway. My dad’s a selfish asshole but he’s trying, and that’s because of you. So I suppose I should be thanking you for that, at least. And he wants me to be nice to you, so that’s why I saved you. I’m sure if you grew a fucking backbone you’d be able to handle them yourself.”

“I used to have a backbone until you started bullying me and destroyed my confidence.” you whined at him, earning a chuckle.

“I said I’m done with you, with that. I don’t know why I’m so desperately craving Toji’s approval but here we are. I can’t help but hate you, but I’ll have your back when it comes to those two. And… if I’m mean, I’m just fucking with you.”

“Shut up.”

“If my dad likes you there must be something off about you. He’s shady. Dangerous.” Megumi tells you. You shake your head, dismissing him.

“Toji is a big teddy bear. He doesn’t scare me, but you do.” you hum. “You’re fucked up and you know it. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you and I’m sure it won’t be long before you’re making my life hell again.”

“Teddy bear? Ugh. You’re not fucking him, are you? My dad?” he fake gags as he thinks about it a little longer than he intended.

“Why do people keep asking if I have a crush on your dad?” you whisper to yourself. But, you’re a fool, because of course Megumi heard you. He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your accidental statement. “Gojo.”

“Fuck sake, those two. Ignore him, they’ll both do anything to one up each other.” Megumi huffs, a disapproving shake of his head punctuating his statement.

“So you go way back with Gojo too, like Yuuji? How do you know him?”

“See, nosy.” he scoffs. “A story for another day, maybe. Or just ask your new best friend Toji when we next carpool.” he mocks you, finally blocking you out with his headphones again as he pours all of his focus into his bear colouring.

It’s such a small world.

How have you found yourself falling into this tight knit circle of family and friends who all seem to know each other? It’s crazy that they are all so close and yet so far.

Megumi and Toji are father and son but they are practically worlds apart in terms of closeness. Yuuji hates Megumi like he thought he never could. The Fushiguro’s are both related to your ex Naoya. And Toji, Yuuji and Megumi all have a connection to Gojo.

Megumi mentioned that Toji is shady and dangerous, but you don’t get that vibe from him at all.

Gojo on the other hand has an incredibly seedy aura about him. He’s sweet to you, sure, but why? Just because Yuuji told him to be? Is anyone really that nice? It’s like he’s going above and beyond to make both you and Yuuji happy. You can’t tell how Megumi feels about the white haired menace, but you know that Toji loathes him.

Why?

What the fuck is going on with the men in your life?

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Note

hiii i’m thinking you do 1/4/25 with rafe!!

maybe rafe and y/n broke up but rafe really didn’t have a say bc the reader broke up with bc he was toxic and or bc of drugs and he rlly misses her and constantly try’s to get her back, and then maybe the story can end in soft smut.?

if you don’t choose to do that it’s ok!! ❤️❤️

‘’I don’t care we broke up, I still love you.’’ + ‘’Tell me this love is worth the fight.’’ + ‘’Don’t push me away.’’

I sort of forgot about the smut part, I'm sorry anon

—

Spring was coming up, so you were helping your parents getting the country club ready for the new golfing season.

You spend the whole afternoon at the golf shop and the adjacent stock room, tidying the rental equipment and ensuring nothing was missing or broken. The person who put everything away last fall did a terrible job and now you were the one fixing their job.

After sundown, there was a knock on the glass door of the golf shop. You turned around, expecting your dad, but instead your gaze fell on a pair of blue eyes you hadn’t seen in a long time. Your throat went dry, unable to look away from him as he walked in.

‘’W-what are you doing here?’’

Your question could come off as rude, but you were genuinely confused to see him at the country club. His whereabouts of the past months were unknown to you, but you knew he had left the island since he didn’t attend Ward’s birthday dinner event or the annual golf tournament.

‘’I'm visiting for Wheezie's birthday.’’

Visiting. That confirmed he had moved out.

‘’How are you doing?’’ you asked. He looked more posed and clear-headed than the last time you saw him.

A soft smile curled on his face. ‘’Better than I ever was.’’ His smile fell and he pulled his eyebrows together while biting his lip. ‘’I…I’ve been to rehab in Charleston. I haven't touched any drugs in six months.’’

The last time you and Rafe spoke was about his addiction. That conversation — and the bag of cocaine you found in his jacket — had been the final nail to the coffin for your relationship. Addiction changes a person and cocaine had turned Rafe into a completely man; the person you called your boyfriend was no longer the man you fell for. You put up with it for a while, knowing the real Rafe was underneath, but the mood swings, the irritability, the constant lying and the violent behaviors had led to your and Rafe's end.

Now, he was standing before you, sober.

‘’That’s great, Rafe,’’ you said, proud of him. Recovering from addiction must not be easy.

‘’Yeah.’’ He fidgeted with the sleeve of his gray zip up, seeming a bit nervous. ‘’I'm seeing a therapist now. She's good.’’

‘’That’s great.’’

‘’It's strange to be home. To see all that I left behind, all that I ruined.’’ His eyes shifted to you. ‘’In rehab, we’re encouraged to apologize to the ones we hurt during our addiction. My mind would always go to you.’’ He stepped forward, closer to you, and took your hands in his. ‘’I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’’

You glanced down at your hands together. You missed the physical contact.

‘’I need to stop trying to please my dad and go live my life. So, here I am, trying to gain back what I’ve sabotaged.’’ He brought your intertwined hands up to his mouth and kissed them. ‘’Give me — us — a second chance.’’

‘’I don’t know, Rafe…’’ You stepped away, but Rafe didn’t let you.

‘’Don’t push me away. I get why you did it the last time and it was a valid reason, but what drove us apart is no longer part of my life.’’

It would be so easy to fold and give him a second chance, but you had given Rafe so many second chances that you weren’t sure if you wanted to take the risk again. He was sober now, but a lot of addicts fall back into their old demons.

‘’I don’t care we broke up, I still love you. And I know you do too. If you didn’t, you would’ve told me to go away when I showed up at the door.’’

You sighed, torn between listening to your heart or protecting yourself from another possible-coming wave of pain. ‘’Of course I still love you, but—’’

‘’Then give us a second chance. Tell me this love is worth the fight.’’

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx @sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13

#Outer Banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron x you

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thelittleangel · 1 month

Text

Cowboys are frequently (secretly) fond of each other

Part 2

Tags: Dean Winchester x Cowboy! Reader, fluff, flirting, male reader, soft romance.

Warnings: possibly OOC, no use of Y/N.

Taglist: @wraith-posts @waywardseraph @agroovygoose @pumpkinhead666

He looked at me, then at my father, then back to me. I focus on my hands on the table. My father was the first to speak. “I’ve been tracking this thing for a while.” I open my mouth, choking on the lump in my throat. “What is it?”

My father looks over at me. “A vampire.” I start thinking back to all of the evidence of the last case. “But that doesn’t make sense. It was an animal that was killed, not a person.”

“Son, with all due respect, I've been on this case a lot longer than you.” I looked up at him in shock. “How long have you been in town, dad?” He looked over at me, his expression kept neutral. “How long?” I demanded. His expression turned into something more solemn. “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks? And you didn’t even try to make contact with me?”

“I knew you wouldn’t want to get involved.”

I felt my expression morph into that of anger. “You’re my dad! And you’re always moving around, so it’s not like I'm ever going to see you unless you’re passing through.”

My father’s face crumpled into a face of sorrow and irritation. His eyebrows scrunched into an expression of anger. “That wouldn’t even be a problem if you had never left the life.”

I scoff, my eyes stinging with tears. I managed to put a smile on my face. “And here I thought you supported me. Guess I was wrong.” I grab my coat and hat and leave the bar. I put my hat on my head and stepped outside, but then stopped when I realized that someone drove me here.

I put on my jacket, and the door opened behind me. “I don’t want to talk to you, dad.” but a different voice answered me. “Good thing I'm not your dad. You sound like a spitfire when you’re angry.”

I turn around and look at Dean. I study his face for any changes, but it’s mostly the same. Still the same freckles. Still the same stubble, the same eyes. God, I adore those eyes. I could never get tired of those eyes.

I study his expression yet again. He’s hurt, confused, but there’s still some affection there. “I’m so sorry.” he blinks. More confusion.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I could have told you.”

He steps closer to me, his expression going soft. “Baby, we didn’t know. It’s ok.”

I laugh.

“What?”

“I didn’t know we were using pet names this early in our relationship.”

His expression brightens considerably. “There’s a relationship?”

My face begins to copy his grin. “There could be, but I'm gonna need your name first.”

He sticks out his hand for a shake. “Dean. Winchester.”

I shake his hand and gently pull him close to me. He smiles and rests his forehead against mine. I look into those green eyes and breathe in his scent. He smells like gun smoke and leather. The love in his eyes is so pure and so intense.

“Hey. what do you say we get out of here?”

I let out a girlish giggle and take his hand. We ran back to his car and got inside.

He turns the heaters on, putting our hands in front of it. We smile at each other for a soft and warm moment.

I gently take his head into my hands. Looking at him now, those green eyes are all I see. I could see the most beautiful forests in the world, but they wouldn’t be Dean's eyes. I lean away from him and take off my hat, gently placing it on his head.

His laughs, tilting the hat. I look deeper into his eyes. His face sobers up, looking deeply into mine. He gently slides the hat off. His hands find their way to my waist. He pulls me onto his lap.

“What are we going to do about the vamps?”

My hands are on the back of his neck. “I think that’s a problem for the future Dean.”

A goofy grin slips onto my face. “What about right now Dean?”

He smiles, and the dying sunlight hits his eyes in that way that makes them glow.

He leans forward, with a smile. “I’m sure he can think of a few ideas.”

I lean with him. I place a hand on his cheek. I feel the smile drop from my face. I look into his green, green eyes for what feels like an eternity.

Our breaths begin to blend into each other, becoming another beautiful product of us. His eyes became half lidded, his expression going soft. I rest my forehead against his, closing my eyes.

“Hey.”

I open my eyes. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure you want to be a part of my life? I’m not gonna lie to you, there’s always crap going on.”

My grip on his face becomes firmer. “I want this. All of this. I want your crap, your bad days. I want your sadness and your joy too. I want to share your life with mine. I want to be a part of your life. I want you.”

“And I want all of yours.” He holds out his pinky. “I know it seems like a cliche, but…promise?”

“I can think of a better idea.”

I pull him into me, our lips crashing together.

I feel the rest of the world fall away, and all that’s left is him and I.

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