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roosterforme · 4 months

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The Younger Kind Part 45 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is loving his life at home. Skittles continues to fit right in while you inadvertently insist on nearly finding the one thing Bradley wants to keep hidden. A family day at the beach followed by a night alone with you are the only things he wants to focus on right now. It would be great if that's what he was allowed to do.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

It was late by the time Bradley got home with Skittles, and you were pretty tired after assisting with an emergency at work. But Noah must have heard him pull into the driveway as he called out, "Daddy's back!" in the middle of coloring a rainbow turtle. He was out of his seat and heading for the front door before you could stop him, but it didn't matter, because you were anxious to see Bradley, too.

When you rounded the corner, he was kneeling on the floor and collecting Noah in his arms, a light blue bakery box on the floor next to him. You were used to seeing him with one arm around Noah while he held Skittles, but right now he was looking up at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention. It was remarkable that he still made you feel this giddy.

"Hey, Baby," he rasped. "You had a good day? Your emergency patient doing okay?" Then he stood up with his arms full and leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was still in his uniform, tall and strong, holding everything you cared about against his chest.

"Yeah. I had a good day," you replied, somehow managing to squeeze your way between Noah and Skittles to give him a kiss on the neck while he chuckled.

"Me too. Skittles got a clean bill of health," he whispered, and you could hear his stomach growling. It had probably been seven or eight hours since he had lunch, so you bent to pick up the bakery box, already craving a donut.

"That's good. Come on," you coaxed, tucking your index finger inside the top of his pants and earning a raised eyebrow as you tugged him toward the kitchen. "We already ate, but I'll heat up some leftovers for you while the two of you color."

"Daddy, is Skittles your best friend?" Noah asked as you set the box on the counter and took a peek. You gasped, because it was filled with crown donuts. You looked at Bradley over your shoulder where he was now sitting with his son on his lap.

"I think technically either Mommy or Aunt Natasha is my best friend, Bub."

You smiled as Noah sternly said, "No. It's Skittles. Mommy and Aunts don't count."

"Right. My bad," Bradley replied as he fiddled with something in his pocket. When he met your eyes, you noticed his cheeks were a little flushed as you bit into one of the donuts. "I got you a whole dozen this time."

"I see that," you replied, setting it down again so you could heat up a plate of food. "Did you run into Casey?"

"I did not," he replied as Noah handed him a green crayon. "It was just Skittles and I running up the credit card bill. That animal clinic is expensive."

"I believe it," you replied, taking a bite of potato from his plate to make sure it was hot enough. You'd always wanted a dog, but according to your parents, everything to do with pets was too pricey. They wouldn't even let you have a goldfish when you were a kid.

You set Bradley's dinner in front of him before grabbing the container of ants on logs out of the refrigerator for Noah. You arranged them on a plate in a zigzag shape before giving them to him, and he had one in his mouth before the plate was all the way set down. When you turned to get your donut, Bradley reached out and wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling you back to him.

"Princess," he whispered. "I love you."

He looked tired, and he was clearly in a bit of a soft mood. Maybe even sentimental. The way he called you his best friend a few minutes ago made you smile even now. But his dark eyes held so much devotion as he examined your face that you ran your fingers down along his cheek and let your forehead rest against his. You knew he was starving; you could still hear his stomach growling, but he made no move to release your leg to take a bite of his dinner. So you just stayed there, your lips brushing his every time you moved.

"I love you too, Daddy."

You grinned against his kiss as Noah crunched loudly on his carrot sticks. This was where you belonged. You could barely even remember the details of your tiny rental because of all of the richness of your home with Bradley. It was overpowering. Living with Bradley and Noah had a dreamlike quality that made everything better.

"You need to eat," you whispered, kissing Bradley one more time before returning to your donut.

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

"I want Skittles to sleep in my bed!" Noah was practically crying, his cheeks bright red with frustration as Bradley tried to get him ready to go to sleep. He was overtired and cranky, and right now he was inconsolable. "You said after she got her cast off, she could sleep in my bed!"

"Noah," Bradley said in his softest tone as his son's arms flailed in his pajama shirt. "I said we can try, but we can't force Skittles to do things. Do you understand?"

But he just whined, "I want her to sleep in my bed!"

Bradley sighed where he sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor, the engagement ring still tucked in his khaki uniform pants pocket. He didn't know where to put it. He didn't even know exactly when he wanted to give it to you. But he desperately needed to get it stashed away somewhere before he just proposed to you tonight, because having it on his person was making him feel a certain way about you. Maybe it was a good thing that Noah was kind of killing the vibe.

"Just get in bed," Bradley told him. "If you get in bed right now, I'll bring Skittles in."

He watched Noah launch himself into his twin bed and pull the blankets up to his chin. The odds that the pup would stay in Noah's room even for a few minutes were pretty slim. You had her out in the backyard right now so she could go to the bathroom, but the little pooch was almost glued to Bradley's side whenever he was home.

As soon as you walked back inside in your cute little shorts and tank top set with Skittles at your feet, Bradley bent and scooped her up. "Noah is losing his mind. Wish me luck." He turned away from you with a smirk and kissed Skittles on her head. "If you stay in there until Noah falls asleep and long enough for me to fuck my Princess, I'll give you a treat."

You were cracking up in the kitchen as he walked away. "You're bargaining with the dog!" But he knew better. Skittles wasn't just a dog, she was his best friend after all.

Noah's eyes lit up in the soft glow from the nightlight when Bradley entered his bedroom with the pup. "She got used to her own bed, okay? So if she doesn't want to stay, we can't make her." But Noah's arms were outstretched, ready to hold his pet, and Bradley got her nestled in under the blankets next to his little body.

As the dog looked up at him, concern for her new sleeping arrangement in her puppy eyes, Bradley bent to kiss Noah on the forehead and Skittles next to her bow. "Try to go right to sleep," he whispered to Noah. "I'm serious."

He just giggled in response as the dog licked his face, and Bradley did not see this little experiment ending well as he exited the room. He patted his pants pocket just as he had been doing all night. It took all he had within him not to open up the box and check to make sure your ring was secure, and he still didn't know where to put it for safekeeping.

When he entered his bedroom, he abandoned the idea of finding a good hiding spot when he found you in the middle of the bed wearing your paper crown. You looked so young and impossibly innocent with your glossy lips and your pajama set, but your filthy words betrayed you. "I heard you wanted to fuck a Princess."

He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked as he stood next to the side of the bed while you crawled toward him. "I always want my Princess," he whispered as your lips hovered just inches away from his zipper. When you looked up at him, every trace of innocence was completely gone, and you leaned in until your lips met his tip through his khakis. "Baby," he moaned, but before you could get his zipper down, he reached for your hands.

"What's wrong?" you asked as he pulled you up so you were kneeling in front of him.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is very right."

You smiled up at him as he kissed your lips softly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as plainly evidenced by the ring in his pocket right next to where your hand just settled. So as he guided your fingers up to his chest, he asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You laughed against his lips. "You're asking me on a date? We're already in a relationship."

Bradley's hands settled on your hips as he nipped along your jaw until his mouth was next to your ear. "Doesn't mean I can't ask you out. I got selected to fly in the air show, and I want you to be my date for the weekend."

"Really?" you gasped, your fingers tightening around his shirt buttons. "Noah and I get to watch you fly? And you and I can tour the children's hospital?"

"Mmhmm. I wasn't about to let you go with Jake. That man only has one thing on his mind when it comes to you."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, feigning pure innocence once again through your voice. "What does he have on his mind?" When Bradley responded by tucking his hand inside your tiny shorts and stroking your bare pussy, first you gasped, and then you laughed.

His touch remained soft and tentative as he slipped one finger down to tease your opening. "You see, he doesn't want you the way I want you."

"How do you want me?" you whimpered softly, kissing his lips.

"I want you with me for the rest of my life."

"Daddy!" you whined, kissing him desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew nobody else had ever spoken to you the way he did, but he also knew he'd never been in love like this before. This time, when you reached for his zipper, he let you have him. His shirt and pants ended up on the floor along with your tiny pajamas, and you welcomed him into your tight pussy as you told him you loved him.

"I have everything," he groaned as he made love to you as you peppered kisses along his flushed cheeks. "You're everything."

After you came for him, Bradley let himself indulge in filling you up while thinking about your belly all swollen and pregnant, and you reached for him just as Skittle came trotting back into the bedroom. Your soft laughter as Bradley curled up behind you had him laughing, too.

"The dog will literally do anything you ask," you whispered as she walked across the room and turned three circles around her dog bed before plopping down. "She stayed in bed with Noah long enough for you to fuck me."

"Dogs are man's best friend for a reason, Princess."

You snuggled in his arms for a few minutes, fingers laced with his as you kissed his forearm. Just as Bradley was starting to doze off, you said, "I'll check on Noah before I get ready for bed." He squeezed you tight one time before releasing you and rolling onto his back to stretch. "Ow!" you gasped when you climbed out of bed. "Shit! I just stepped on something hard in your uniform pants."

His eyes went wide as you started to bend down to investigate, but he vaulted out of bed. "I'll take care of it," he practically yelled, and you dropped his pants. The ring box made a soft thud as it hit the floor, and you gave him a strange look.

"Okay," you replied, glancing at him one more time before pulling your pajamas on and heading out of the room.

"Fuck," Bradley grunted, picking up the pants and rooting around in the pocket until the box was in his hand. He turned away from the door and snapped it open, revealing the most perfect ring he had ever seen. He was already obsessed with imagining it on your finger. But he snapped it closed again quickly and ran for the dresser.

He could leave it with his undershirts, but when he opened that drawer, he realized you were in that one a lot, often borrowing from him. He opened the next drawer down, but it was filled with your cute underwear, so that definitely wouldn't work. He reached for the bottom drawer which was filled with his socks, but he heard you coming back down the hallway, so he dropped the box and kicked it shut.

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" you asked as you plugged your phone into the charger, still eyeing him a little cautiously. Bradley realized he was just awkwardly standing there naked in front of the dresser for seemingly no reason, so he was definitely going to have to move the ring later.

"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing some clean underwear and kissing you as he walked past. "Getting ready for bed."

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

On Thursday, Bradley let you know that everyone was insisting on a beach day on Saturday, but when you texted Natasha about what kind of bathing suit she was planning on wearing, she claimed she might not even go.

"Well I don't know if I want to go if Nat isn't going," you complained to Bradley while you made dinner. "I don't want to be the only female there. In a bathing suit. That would be weird."

"She's going," Bradley said with an eye roll. "She's just being difficult, because she's trying to pretend nothing is going on with Javy. Besides, I'm not going unless you're going." He took the spoon you were holding out of your hand and spun you around to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without my Princess."

You let him kiss you and slip his hands underneath your top, trying not to moan as his calloused hands danced softly along your skin. When his lips skimmed along your cheek, you whispered, "You just want me there to help you walk safely across the uneven rocks and sand." You bit your lip as he eased his face away from yours to give you a cautionary look. So of course you immediately added, "Because you're such an old man."

One big hand slipped down and softly spanked you on the butt as you laughed. "Old or not, I can still get the job done. And that includes walking across the beach."

"Sure, Daddy. But I'll go, too. Just in case."

"Thank you. Now if you think you can be nice for a minute, I have something to tell you."

"I can be very nice," you said, kissing him on the tip of his nose before spinning around to check on dinner.

Bradley patted you on the butt before reaching into the refrigerator to get two beers out. "Penny offered to take Noah home after the beach and keep him for the night."

As he opened both bottles, your gaze drifted to where Noah was sitting on the kitchen floor, building blocks while Skittles basked in the last rays of the setting sun. You licked your lips as you watched Bradley press his mouth to his beer and take a long drink, the bob of his Adam's apple capturing your attention. "We'd have the house to ourselves for the night?"

He winked at you as he set his beer on the counter and pressed the other one into your hand. "Just you and me," he rasped, pecking your cheek. "And I can think of a few fun ways to pass the time."

Then he was on the floor with Noah, and Skittles was in his lap, but he kept shooting you his smug smile that you liked so much.

On Friday night, after Noah was in bed, you started to get things packed up for the following day. "Why do we need so much stuff to go anywhere?" you mused out loud as you found sunblock and beach towels.

"Oh, hell no," Bradley said, taking you by the hips and pulling you away from the tote bag you were packing. "First of all, you used to bring your textbooks over in that bag when you were babysitting, so it gives me an instant boner." You erupted into laughter as he held you against his chest. "But second, you drastically over packed when we went to the lakehouse."

You looked up at him over your shoulder. "I know," you whispered. "But I want Noah to have anything he might need or want. And you know how my parents were." You didn't like talking about them. They never understood you when you were a child, and that's why you'd moved out as soon as you could. They were also the reason you had a hard time spending Bradley's money even though he wanted you to be comfortable.

"I know, Baby," Bradley crooned, and you melted back against him. "I love how much you love Noah. And I hate that you never got to do anything or ask for anything when you were his age, but there's no need to go overboard for a beach day."

You nodded. "Well then why don't you help me pack?"

"I'd be happy to."

But you and Bradley spent more time kissing and laughing softly than anything else. His hands were all over you, just pulling you closer and trying to keep you there. "Let's go to bed," he whined for the third time, convinced you'd packed everything the three of you could possibly need. "I want to cuddle with you."

You nearly shrieked as he picked you up, leaving the pile of gear for the beach next to the front door, and carried you back to the bedroom. "Oh, you want to cuddle?"

He hummed and nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah. Let's save all the nasty shit for when we're home alone tomorrow night." Butterflies erupted in your belly as he set you down on the bed and climbed in next to you. "Let's cuddle."

You were wrapped up tight in his arms, Bradley's soft, even breaths tickling your neck as he whispered that he loved you. This was perhaps the safest you'd ever felt in your life. Nobody was going to hurt you here. Not now. Bradley would take care of that. And you would take care of him.

As you snuggled in to go to sleep, your eyes caught on the items lined up on the dresser. "What's all of that out for?" you asked softly.

"Huh?" Bradley grunted, probably already part way asleep. But you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at the purple USB drive, a pile of your underwear, your purple plug, your paper crown, and the bottle of lube. All sitting in a tidy row.

"On the dresser, Bradley."

"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he pulled you down flat again. "I started packing for the weekend, too. So to speak."

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

Bradley grunted, trying his best not to let you see how awkwardly he was walking across the sand. Not after you made the claim that he'd need you to hold his hand and guide him. You and Noah pranced ahead of him, but he was stuck carrying two bags, a cooler, an umbrella and a beach chair. And the temperature of the sand was roughly that of the surface of the sun.

"Fuck," he growled as the sand rushed into his flip flops and his aviators slid down his nose. How you were managing was literally beyond him. He just wanted to get this afternoon over with and get you back home and into bed. He had some plans for you, all of which were becoming more explicit by the moment as he watched your ass swaying in your purple bikini bottoms.

Literally the last thing he needed right now was to become aroused, so he just pushed your delicious looking rear end from his mind. Apparently you found the perfect spot, because you finally stopped and turned around to look for him. Then you laughed and left Noah with Nat while you made your way back to him.

"This sand is fucking hot," he complained before you could say anything at all.

You took one of the bags and the umbrella from him as you said, "It's August, Daddy. Of course the sand is hot. Do you need me to help you along? Or, I could run back to the Bronco and get your walker?" You started to turn in the direction of the parking lot with an innocent look on your face.

"You're really looking to get it tonight, aren't you?" Bradley replied, dumping everything next to where Noah was burying Nat's legs in the sand. You looked so pleased with yourself, and he thought about the ring that he had moved to the pocket of his dress whites that he'd picked up from the dry cleaner. They were hanging in the back of the closet, and he figured you'd have no reason to look there. Before you could run off, he pulled you in for a tight hug and said, "Stay out of trouble. Be a good girl. And I'll give you anything you want later."

Your lips met his ear, nudging his aviators crooked. "I love you." His fingers skimmed your skimpy bathing suit bottom as you joined Noah who had Nat covered to her thighs.

Javy was trying his best to casually toss a football around with Mickey and Mav, but he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was a good thing Bradley was absolutely convinced he was looking at Nat and not you, otherwise he'd have a problem. He left you next to the pile of everything you packed, intending to simply join the little football scrimmage that was going on, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, that's really nice, Bradshaw," Jake drawled. "You brought the family today. The little ball and chain, and the big ball and chain."

Bradley hooked his sunglasses with his index finger and dragged them roughly down his nose. "Funny," he said without emotion. "But you weren't calling her a ball and chain back in April when you tried to hook up with her in my kitchen."

Jake hooted with laughter, and it made Bradley's skin crawl. He was such a dick most of the time, and it was always intentional. "There's a difference between hitting a tight pussy and inviting it to live with you. I know the difference. You don't seem to. I'm surprised you didn't bring your dog along, too."

Bradley snapped. "What the fuck is your problem, man?"

Jake met his gaze, and Bradley was reminded without a doubt that Jake would love to get inside your little bikini bottoms just to say he could. "I don't have a problem, but it looks like you do." He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets, and Bradley turned to investigate. You were standing there, holding hands with Noah while you talked to a guy with blond hair. Upon further inspection, Bradley realized it was your ex boyfriend, Greyson.

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

Well, well, well. We actually hate you, Grey. If Daddy and Princess can manage to make it to their sexy night home alone, what would you like to read about? And I really hope that ring is well hidden until Daddy comes up with a plan. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 46

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luveline · 2 years

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I’m begging for more Golden Retriever Girlfriend with either Steve or Eddie- scraped knees? Doesn’t even notice, just too excited to tell their boyfriend about the butterfly they saw on their way over to see them…

I chose Eddie again cos I like him ♡ gn!reader | 1k words

The walk to Eddie's house is long but not boring. The trailer homes are dispersed over long stretches of green grass, so sometimes you see bugs. Mostly caterpillars, sometimes spiders, snails and slugs, ants, crickets if you're quiet enough.

Today, two butterflies. They swing through the air beautifully as if orbiting the other, pure white with wings as unremarkable and delicate as tulip petals.

They're distracting. You follow them for a short while until they fly too far to see and hurry the rest of the way to Eddie's home, rushing on toes up the steps into his trailer.

"Eddie?" you ask into the empty living room.

The bathroom door opens but he doesn't emerge. "In here."

You stride over and peer inside. He's spitting toothpaste foam down the sink, his hair in a tie, his eyes still droopy with fatigue.

"You get up way too early, you know that? I don't know how you can already have walked here when I got up five minutes ago."

"The weather's great," you say easily, pushing into the small bathroom though you shouldn't to wipe sleep from the corners of his eyes.

He bats your hand away. "Stop."

You stop and frown for the five seconds that you feel scolded until he grabs your fingers to give you a quick reassuring squeeze.

He drops your hand in favour of washing his face, cupping hot water in his hands to scrub at his nose roughly. You ramble mildly about the journey here.

"They were dancing, Eddie. I've never seen anything like it. They were really pretty..." you detail, distracted by his face, his lashes heavy with wetness.

He dries off with a towel. You reach around to the back of his head to pull his hair tie free and he sets his hands over your waist, a casual proximity as you run your hands through his curls. You're careful. You know how prone to tangles he is.

"I can feel you looking at my face," you say, trying not to breathe too heavily.

"Sure am, sweetheart."

You feel as radiant as a marigold under his appreciative gaze. "There. Perfect again," you mumble.

"Thanks."

You nod and move out of his reach, back into the cooler space of his living room. You do a little spin as you go, an unbearable amount of happiness in your chest as you pose in front of the couch, one hand at your hip and the other pointing at your still-tired boyfriend where he follows you.

"We have the whole day! What are we gonna do first?" you ask.

"Baby, what the fuck have you done?"

The smile slips off your face. He sounds mad enough to startle you and you drop your hands. "What?" you ask weakly.

His eyes flit from your face to your knees and he gestures to them. He looks wide awake. "You're bleeding. Sit down." When you don't move he takes your shoulders into stern hands and guides you backward. "Sit down! Jesus, sit."

You drop onto the couch and look down at your knees, surprised to see them all bloody and scratched. When you'd slipped on leaf litter walking down the main road into the park you'd assumed everything was fine despite the stinging pain, and by the time you'd seen the butterflies you'd forgotten altogether.

"When did you do that?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I forgot," you say, eyes blinking owlishly at his fierce expression.

Eddie spins on his heel to dig through a kitchen cabinet for his first aid kit, popping it open by the sink. "Piece of shit kit," he mutters, piling foil wrapped bandages into his hand.

He looks less formidable as he kneels on the floor between your knees, thumb probing the edge of your grazes one then the other, very gentle.

"You didn't tell me what happened," he says quietly, eyes on your knees as he sprays a small bottle of disinfectant over your knees with no warning and you flinch.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he says.

You blink back tears. "Stings," you say, giggling wetly.

He wipes your grazes with precise, almost calculated movements. One hurts worse than the other. "Sorry," he says again as he drops the bloodied wipes to the floor and rips a sterile packing open with his teeth – which is all types of wrong – and unrolls a length of white bandages.

"Hold the gauze, honey," he says.

You move your hands as he instructs, wondering if he's ever called you honey before. You're still deciding by the time he finishes, his hands in twin position just below your knees.

You brush your bandages together and smile. "They're white. Like the butterflies."

"Is that why you fell? Watching the butterflies?" he asks, sounding curious.

You laugh and weave your fingers into the soft hair at the back of his neck, dropping your face down. "I'm not that stupid. It was all the fallen leaves by the turning."

He smiles and clasps your wrists. "You're not stupid at all."

He doesn't give you time to argue as he stands and cleans the small mess he'd made fixing your bloody knees. You stand too, always trying to follow him despite limited places to go. Eddie's more than used to it by now.

"For future reference," he says, a certain roughness to his tone. "Don't wait ten minutes to tell me the next time you split your knees."

"Sorry."

He throws an arm over your shoulder and tugs you into his side, giving you a good shake. "Stop. I'm serious, stop. Be sorry about how you've been here twenty minutes and haven't asked for a kiss yet."

"I wanted to, but you got all scary about my legs!"

"I can be scarier."

"No you can't."

"No, I can't."

You share what feels like an especially private smile despite being on your own and drop your head into his shoulder. He rests his cheek atop your crown.

"You had blood down to your ankle," he murmurs. "You scared me."

"Can I have a kiss now?" you ask.

"You'll have to let me think about it," he bluffs, already leaning in.

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #x reader

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sqvishii · 9 days

Note

Ok Everyone talking about Silver cheat the reader or the reader cheat Silver. But I want to up the ante of pain and angst:

Imagine a reader (for this scenario fem Reader) being Silver's wife. That they both live in the kingdom of thorns having a happy and comfortable life. Although the reader could not return to his world, she was at least able to build a life in TWST with his current husband

So Silver, being one of the main guards of Mallues and the son of General Lilia. In some way or another he is someone who has a certain degree of power in the kingdom due to his position and lineage. So it certainly wouldn't be unusual for someone ill-intentioned to want to get something from Silver (either by stealing or getting forbidden information from the Draconia family or even Lilia) The point is that said person had Silver in his sights as he was technically "the least powerful" (Mallues being the king, Sebek being half-fae and Lilia being a former war general). Whether for any reason they manage to discover the traitor (Silver's work)

But said person manages to escape and is now searching for the Kingdom. The ill-intentioned person, wanting to take revenge on Silver, decides to take away what he loves most. So upon hearing rumors that Silver has a wife who some claim has no magic. The traitor finds the house and murders the reader.

Silver along with other guards are patrolling and looking for the traitor. But he has the feeling that something bad is happening so he tries to call the reader and try to inform her about the situation. But no one answers...even though he has dialed almost 25 times, his wife does not answer his calls. Panic-stricken Silver runs towards his home. Only to find his house damaged and his wife dead on the floor.... Silver gives a cry of pain that echoed throughout the forest. Silver who didn't rest until the damn thing was found

When the traitor is captured by orders of the king and his right hand is executed to death. The now widower who discovered that when his wife was murdered she was newly pregnant ...Now she is buried in the back of Silver's childhood home. Now the happy little home is only inhabited by a lonely knight who never remarried or had a family. Sometimes the home is visited by three faes who take care of their lonely human. 💔

Silver, who at the end of his days never took off his wedding ring and was buried next to his deceased wife's grave. Centuries later the small abandoned house but curiously the graves are still cared for and always have small flowers around them.

STOP THIS ANGST

will the both of you still meet in the next life?

silver wished, his last days were nearing as he stood above your grave, a fresh batch of your favorite flowers in his hands.

silver vanrouge and you. such a beautiful relationship bloomed between the both of you in which silver just couldn't help but fill his journal whenever he spent his days with you.

you made him so happy. so in love like a lovesick puppy who awaited your every order.

he remembered when the shyly held your hand during the first month the both of you were dating in night raven, lilia always chuckled at the two of you and always teased him about it.

now, you're gone.

and heavens did it hurt.

it hurt. extremely; the worst part? you were pregnant with his children.

he knew you were going to surprise him with the news once he got back home, that lopsided grin on your face as you excitedly jump into his arms, he was always there to catch you.

how badly he wished he went home when that gut feeling hit him.

instead of the sight of you with that giddy smile, your radiance and basically just you in general,

he saw you, laying on the ground as the bloody pool underneath you had spread around.

writting the last page of his journal with his signature, he buried it near your grave, how badly he wanted you to read it, how badly he wanted to see that smile on your face and the blush that burned on your cheeks once you saw the years he took to finish that journal for you.

but the least he could do at the end of his life was to have himself buried near you.

years have passed and the house was already withered. despite that, the poeple who walked by could only be left confused at the sight of the flowers growing in between the two graves.

a new era set in stone, silver had heard of a book about a man who spent his life writing his journal dedicated entirely to a single woman, he heard the story was pretty heartbreaking, really.

the plot was basically the man, being in college and finding the one he loved, a woman who was magicless, years passed and he becomes one of the main guards of a fae kingdom, though a traitor was among them.

that said traitor killed the woman without the man knowing, and the plot continues. though, silver had read only a quarter of the book.. he felt like he already knew what happened, as if he was the said man in the book, ironic.

having to be dragged along with his father and brothers to a museum, he could only find himself staring at a portrait, a man whos features looked exactly like his.

'silver vanrouge.'

..huh. weird. same name, too. apparantly, this was the man in the said book he read a few days ago.

.. he could only wonder who was the woman he fell in love with.

searching around the museum without lilia knowing, he eventually found the portrait that was actually just next to the mans. whoops, he didn't notice.

there was a lot of people looking, in awe of the beauty of the painting. he was too, the woman was breathtaking, no wonder the man had fallen in love with her.

going to the front, he saw a girl who looked exactly like her.

"..-ver? silver?"

".. [name]?"

lilia and malleus could only fist bump in the background, finally reuniting the long lost lovers once more.

#!! squish writes #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #silver twisted wonderland #silver twst #silver x reader twisted wonderland #silver vanrouge #silver x reader #silver vanrouge twst #silver vanrouge twisted wonderland #silver vanrouge x reader

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nolita-fairytale · 11 months

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Carmy as Your Baby Daddy | Social Media AU & Headcanon Series | part one

masterlist | part two now that i've finished my top gun: maverick series, it's me i'm back and gearing up for season two. after a bout of food poisoning, i finally cracked and am writing this pregnancy headcanon that i said i wouldn't bc my ovaries would explode (looking at you @allthefandomstogether). anyways, a huge thank you to @carmensberzattos who pinged many an ideas back and forth about carmy as your baby daddy and screamed into the abyss about this on a friday night. i'm writing this with my main character from the make your heart surrender-verse, but can absolutely read as a standalone piece. posting now because i'm so damn excited but i may go back and add some more things later.

oh and this a headcanon series now so. that part.

carmy as your baby daddy:

sometime after the wedding, you and carmy decide that you're ready to start a family. you're not trying but you're not not trying, meaning you've gone off of birth control but you're not carefully monitoring your ovulation cycle either. you both figure that it'll happen when it happens and if it doesn't, there are many other ways to make a family.

carmy never really thought about having kids until the two of you got together. after adopting your kitty together, carmy got to see a your more nurturing side and taking care of something together as a team made him think about how much he wants a family with you. after sugar has her baby it really ups the ante. seeing carmy become an uncle is what starts the conversation about seriously starting a family, and every time carmy sees you holding the baby, it's 'when our kids this, and when our kids that' for days after.

you swear it's food poisoning. after a somewhat questionable late night meal, you spend half the night vomiting while carmy works a later night at the restaurant. you text him to bring ginger ale and tums home. of course he comes through because are you kidding this man is a caretaker?!

you insist that you're fine and much better, even though you're absolutely exhausted. things are so busy at work for you (and have i mentioned the pregnancy fatigue) that you don't think much of it when a few nights later, you find yourself kneeling on the bathroom floor once again.

there are always little kids running around at the extended family gatherings and which led to your realization (when you first met everyone) that carmy is surprisingly good with kids.

it's not till a week or two later (after your little bout of 'food poisoning') that you're at cicero's place for a family birthday party that it hits you. one of carmy's cousins (not richie kind of cousin teehee) has just had a new baby with his wife. you've been catching up with ava, richie's daughter because you've become an auntie of sorts to her. you find some time to steal away for a some girl-time but when you return, carmy is holding his new niece/nephew in his arms.

the sight of him holding the baby not only takes your goddamn breath away as he stares long and hard your way, his blue eyes piercing right through your heart, but it's then that you realize that you're a few weeks late. it's like time stops as you look at him, seeing him coo at the baby with the softest look on his face. the realization hits you, clear as day.

"holy shit." is all you say, earning a few funny looks from the berzatto extended family and friends. "carm, can i borrow you for a second?" you and carmy find a quiet place to talk inside. "you okay, babe?" "carmy i think i'm-. what if i-. i'm late." "what do you-? like.. late late?" "now that i think about it, a few weeks late, honey." "yeah?" he asks you, totally in shock and eyes wide. "yeah."

the two of you make an excuse to leave the party as soon as possible, and hurry to the nearest drugstore to pick up a pregnancy test. you wait till you're home to take it. "do you want me to come in, sweetheart?" "no, carmy! i don't want you to watch me pee, you weirdo!" you answer, even though you know he's just excited.

the two of you are pacing back and forth, practically making dents in the floor with your footsteps for what feels like the longest two minutes of your lives. when your timer goes off, you're both simultaneously freaking out about the fact that you're lives are about to change forever, while also really, really hoping for a positive result. and as the fates would have it, the test is positive.

"holy shit. holy fucking shit. we're- you're-, we're gonna-!" carmy is ecstatic as searches for words. "we're having a baby, baby!" you squeal jumping into his arms." "god, i love you so much," he says, grinning at you as wrap your legs around his waist. "i love you too, carm. so, so much."

you literally get the biggest kick out of calling him your baby daddy: to friends and family, coworkers, random strangers, in restaurants, at the gas station. you'll take photos of him at the farmers market and post on your ig story referring to him as your baby daddy because you find it hilarious. carmy doesn't find it as funny (even though he secretly loves it) and he's cherry-tomato red when you tell the checkout clerk at the bodega across the street from your place that your baby daddy is going to pick up the tab.

everyone at the restaurant is so excited for you! even richie cries a little when you tell him the news. you hadn't really gotten close to richie until ava grew super attached to you, which opened up a whole new avenue and understanding for your friendship with richie.

ever since you found out you were pregnant, carmy always has bread and ginger ale on hand for your morning sickness. he started making you your favorite soft scrambled eggs with toast, but the chives have been way too strong of a flavor for a sensitive tummy. it's slowly become eggs & toast and then just... toast, which you promptly apologize for stripping away any kind of artistic freedom he may have previously had.

you get near compulsive cravings for certain foods, and carmy is always ready to throw on a jacket and run across the street when you get midnight cravings.

carmy hates seeing how tumultuous pregnancy has been during your first trimester. he's always ready with a hair tie or a glass of water for when you're done throwing up. okay hear me out: but carmy starting to wear hair ties because he wants to always have one ready for you. he'll even take off a morning with you or call your workplace if you need a sick day just so that he can take care of you. even if you don't need care, he just wants to spend time with you and be there for you while you go through it.

we already know that carmy is an acts of service king. he is the tenderest, most gentle partner and wants to be as helpful as possible. if you're sick, he wants to make you feel better. if the pregnancy hormones are raging against the machine, he's more than happy to let you be upset, or get you off by any means if the hormones go that way too. he'll sit on the bathroom floor with you and rub your back until you need to vomit again. he'll give you the best morning head of your life. he'll run a bath for you when you need one. he checks in every hour on the hour in your first trimester, which you appreciate, but eventually have to ask him to chill the fuck out.

speaking of physical changes, the pregnancy boobs are ELITE. carmy is always there to make you feel beautiful despite your rapidly changing body, esp when your clothes start fitting differently.

the first time your bump starts showing and you point it out to him, carmy cries. or maybe he notices it first and he's just like... weeping and you're like: babe r u ok? and then you realize that you're showing and carmy is kneeling and admiring your baby bump and now you're crying. sorry, but i don't make the rules it's just a fact that this is how it would go down.

carmy is so emotional about this because he realizes that he finally gets to build the family he didn't have and he gets to build it with you.

well this just hijacked my writing plans oops. part two will be more 'you & carmy pregnancy things' and part three will be birth & post-birth.

tagging my carmy taglist in the comments below!

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #Carmy as your baby daddy

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nexysworld · 2 months

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Summary: He warned you not to run. The consequences of trying to escape were made very clear - but you didn't listen, did you? Now you get to suffer for the choices you made. Alternatively: lots of monsterfucking with true form Sukuna.

Pairing: Sukuna x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Smut, MDNI, Monsterfucking, True Form Sukuna, Two Dicks 4 arms baby, canon typical violence (not to reader), descriptions of death/blood (not reader), dub-con (reader is into it by the end), tongue fucking, oral, Unprotected Sex, reader gets referred to as a pet, no use of y/n.

Read on A03 || Ask Box || Masterlists

AN: Similar to my Toji fic, this is the first time writing for Sukuna. Hope I did it justice.

“There you are, Little One.”

The deep gravelly voice tickled at your eardrums before the wall behind you crackled and exploded, sending debris shooting past you. Outside light from the city lit up what was left of the now destroyed building, where you sat on the floor stunned. Heartbeat in your throat, you dared to stand, forcing your stiffened body to turn and face him. “I told you, if you tried to run, I’d kill every person in the city.” He smiled lazily, recounting his own words, amused as you stiffened where you stood. He stepped closer, each footfall making the air feel heavier around you, forcing you still. “And yet you ran anyway.” His large hand cupped your cheek before patting it softly, the way one might a puppy on its head. “I can’t imagine you believed you could get away. So I assume you were looking for a display of power.”

‘No. No. Tell him no. He’s wrong.’ Your brain worked the words up, bouncing around your skull desperate for escape before halting and dying in your dry throat. Not so much as a whimper came out.

“And since you want to see my power so badly. I saved the finale of the show for last.”

It only took a second for him to leap from the floor of the building to the ground below, you in tow under his arm. The weightless feeling, you always hated it. Disorienting and nauseating. The world blurred, colors mashing together as wind whistled in your ears.

He tossed you onto the ground like a sack of potatoes, knocking the wind out of you. You pushed yourself up, the pavement rough under your palms. Not ready to make eye contact with him again, you scanned side to side. The city was in ruin, smoke and flames curling into each other as they danced around blocking the sky. What wasn’t burning or sparking with torn electrical lines, lay crumbled around. Specks that looked like ants littered the debris, your stomach threatening to come up once it occurred to you the ants were people. Bodies. Everywhere. The familiar feeling of saliva pooled in your mouth, you desperately swallowed it down, face tensing as you willed the feeling back. “You’re missing the most important view, Little One.” He cooed, turning your form to face the opposite direction. “N-no.” The words left you in an airy whisper. Three friends, lined up in front of you, forced to kneel down in a respectful bow. “Yes, actually.” This time he nuzzled into your neck from behind. “Look at them.” “Y-you can’t.” Your eyes squeezed tight, unwilling to look at the scene before you. “I can.” He brought his hand around you, squeezing your face to lift your head, holding you in position. “Open your eyes.” When you didn’t comply, he squeezed harder, a forceful grip that made you feel like your bones would shatter beneath his fingers. “Open your eyes, or I’ll start with their toes. Make you listen to their cries of pain.”

You complied this time, cracking one eye open, then the other. “Now then, who first? You pick.”

“I can’t –” You’d never heard a scream like that before. Sharp, like nails on a chalkboard before it died off into a pathetic sob. To prove his point, your friend’s foot was removed from her body, making her almost fall out of her bowing stance. In a panic you brought your shaky hands up to point at the same girl, not wanting her to suffer. “H-her.”

You could feel the way his smile widened as his cheek was still pressed against yours. You saw two painted fingers wave just slightly in your peripheral, and the boy next to her split open all over, the piece of him collapsing to the ground. You tried to turn your face again, but his grip held firm. “Wh-why?” “You didn’t ask properly, pet.” His words felt like ice in the pit of your chest.

Footless girl, fear-stricken, tried to run for it as she saw the remnants of the boy in the middle. A pathetic sight as she scrambled to her good leg, using a street rail to try and hop, blood trailing behind her. The same flick of his fingers, and her good leg was gone. Determined she continued, desperately clinging to the rail, pulling her torso along. “Yes, yes! Keep going, see how far you get.” Sukuna laughed as he watched the spectacle.

Her breath was so ragged you could hear it even at this distance, shocked that she could move at all with the blood loss. Her movements slowed as she reached the end of the rail. “Looks like you have nowhere else to go.” He mused.

And like that, she was gone too – head disappearing into thin air as if it never existed at all.

“And like that I’m bored.” He said flatly, your final friend combusting into a gush of blood before disintegrating. He didn’t even give the boy a second look. Your knees wobbled, if not for his grip you’d have hit the ground, brain too overstimulated to process. He said something to you, but it didn’t register, your vision blinking in and out before you ragdolled entirely.

*******************

You woke some time later, no real way to gauge how long – head heavy on your neck. Pawing at your sleepy eyes, you looked around not noting anything familiar. It was an older house, tatami flooring with a sliding door that was opened into the backyard. You could hear the thwacking of the bamboo fountain as it filled and emptied itself. Greenery and moonlight encompassed your vision, no sign of the city wreckage you’d been subjected to earlier.

Scanning down at yourself, you had been scrubbed clean. Tattered clothes replaced with a soft bathrobe, hair brushed and smelling of flowers. It felt wrong. Pampered and preened like a prized doll while your friends, no, while all of those people suffered. You wanted to scrunch up and cry, red faced and ugly. Force the world away while you wallowed.

“He wishes to see you now.”

Uraume’s voice made you startle, skin prickling as if it could fling itself right off your skeleton. You hadn’t noticed her presence or when she’d even entered the room. She didn’t give you the opportunity to reply either, yanking you up by the sleeve of the robe – your leash. You had no choice but to follow, using your hands to hold the fabric closed, not wanting to expose yourself to her, or the cold air. She took a hard right down a long hallway, then a sharp left – headed to the mainroom of the home, in the dead center. She finally let go of you in order to slide the double doors open, pushing you forward, and sliding them shut behind you. He sat in the center of the room on top of some colorful blankets. He was too far away and the room too dimly lit for you to see him clearly – but you could tell something was off. “Come here.” He commanded, head resting in his palm.

It was an automated response as you stepped forward, one foot, then another. A puppet on strings, hobbling forward. As his features came into view, you understood now why he looked so off. He looked less like Shuji now, that was for sure. An extra set of muscular arms were folded atop his lap, just beneath the regular ones. All four of his eyes opened, the left ones glowing red, skin distorted around them.

You froze. Just for a second, fear forcing your legs to bring you forward again until you were standing before him. Your hands kept their death grip on your robe, nearly hugging yourself. Sukuna straightened up where he was seated, all four pupils locked onto you. “What’s the matter, Little One? Don’t like my true form?”

You shook your head, not sure if the right answer was the truth or not. Luckily for you, it was. He laughed, amused by your timidness. “Very well. But I think you’ll grow to enjoy it, and all of its offerings soon enough.”

Not a clue what he meant by that, you stayed your position unmoving, staring back at him.

He looked you over one more time, scratching his chin. “Enough of this boring silence. Remove your robe.”

Your face went red at the commend, grip tightening further until the blood left your hands. It took only seconds to decide that the consequences of not listening would outweigh the embarrassed shyness you felt. Slowly, you pulled at the soft fabric – “Too slow.” Wind gusted past you, fabric shredding and hitting the ground, leaving you in nothing but the sleeves. You didn’t need to look down to know you were bare before him, your arms finally opening enough to let the remaining scraplets of fabric slide off of you and onto the floor. It was too reminiscent of your friend, the way he’d hit the ground in pieces.

He reached out one of his bottom arms, grasping at your arm to tug you forward into a sitting position on his lap. Both lower limbs came to rest on your hips, holding you there. His top left hand came up to your face, stroking it gently with the back of his hand. “Beautiful, pet. I haven’t seen a human with such captivating features in a very long time.”

His free hand snaked up your side before kneading at your breast. He pinched at your nipple, tweaking the perky bud, playing with it. The urge to squirm had you attempting to move your hips, still halted by his firm grip, the rest of your body still tense. “Hmm. You’re too stiff.” He let go of your breast, leaning back on his top hands to look at you again. “Relax.” “I can’t.” Your bottom lip wiggled, eyebrows coming together as you looked down at the monster beneath you. You weren’t sure what you wanted more, to cry, or to wail on him after everything. But you knew better than to do either. “You have nothing to fear from me, at least not now.” He added, releasing the grip on one half of your hips, rubbing your lower back tenderly. “Or maybe, it's not just fear.” He pulled you upwards slightly, so you were sitting more onto his stomach as he leaned back. “Regardless, you’ll be pliable soon enough.”

Both his bottom set of limbs smoothed up your sides, kneading at your breasts, thumbs rubbing gently over your nipples. Your toes curled slightly at the sensation, hands reaching forward to brace yourself against his chest. “That’s it.” He cooed. “Feels good, yes?” He replies, continuing to tenderly massage your chest. You nod, bringing your sight to his chest, unwilling to look him in the eyes while in such a compromising position. You were angry with yourself for reacting this way to him. You didn’t want him to garner any satisfaction, show any level or pleasure – and yet all it took was him playing with your sensitive tits to get you squirming.

Involuntarily you moved your hips, grinding against his abs to get some relief from the aching sensation between your legs. The hard muscles were an interesting feeling, the ridge of them bumping your clit with enough force to make you hiss with pleasure. His hands gave your chest one last squeeze before pulling away. Something wet lapped at you between your legs, making you whine before jumping with confusion. “You taste delicious.” Your head tilted to the side with confusion, before one of his hands pointed down. You followed the direction of the digit, another wet sensation against your clit made you jolt slightly before you finally saw the culprit. A mouth on his stomach, sitting squarely between his lower abs. It had no lips, but a large pink and slobbery tongue poked out, tasting at you. You watched as it licked against the entirety of your pussy, flat and slippery. It did it again, like licking ice cream. Confliction of disgust and pleasure melded together in your mind, nipples pebbling as your cunt squeezed together craving something to cling to as the muscle continued to attack your clit. The heady whine that flung from your throat made you feel pathetic, but your legs shook from the pleasure, thighs tensing around his stomach. “Much better, Little One.” He praised, sliding you back to where you were seated directly over the mouth’s opening. “Let yourself enjoy the pleasure.” The tongue stopped its movement, drawing away from your bundle of nerves, making you whimper disappointedly. You realized why it had retracted a moment later when it was prodding at your slippery hole before diving in. The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, much longer and thicker than a human tongue, yet not as stiff as a cock. It wormed inside of you, stretching you out gently, the tip easily finding that special spot inside of you. “A-hng!” You whined out feeling yourself cinch around the muscle that continued tasting your insides. His hands took purchase on your sides, grinding you down onto him again while his tongue fucked you. Your own hands grasping at his arms for support while he moved you effortlessly against him. Your breasts bounced with the movements, the tension between your legs threatening to snap at any moment. He could sense it before you. “Good. Good pet, cum for me.” He commanded, the tongue flattening itself inside of you against the spot that had you seeing stars. His hands moved you faster against him. Like a well trained dog, you heeded the command – white hot pleasure exploding from your core before spreading out reaching the ends of your nerves, skin tingling.

Panting, you let go of his arms, falling backwards from the heaviness in your limbs. He caught you easily, sitting up again while he cradled you before placing you down on the bedding in front of him. There was a tent in his pants, the large indentation straining against the fabric. Your eyes stayed glued to it, half lidded as your pussy leaked spit and juices onto the blanket.

By the size of the bulge you could tell he was big. Not surprising given he was barely human. What did make your eyes widen into saucers, was the sight of him undoing his fabric belt, freeing himself. One fat cock sprung free, the tip drooling with beads of precum already, twitching and pulsing with need. It was massive, but human-enough. Below it though, a second one emerged, equally as large and leaky as the one above it.

You stared at them, intimidated, fearful. “Now lets see.” He stroked the top one a few times, more precum pearling at the tip before dripping off onto the bottom one. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to have fun in this form. Should I breed you with both of them at the same time?” His top most eyes narrowed as he watched your response.

Wide eyed and afraid – exactly how he liked you. He laughed, taking the massive cock he was stroking and smacked it against your cheek a few times, leaving a sticking trail of precum. The cooling sensation of it, as it dried in the night air made you shudder.

That word though, breed. The thought made you bristle as if this situation couldn't get any more awful. “N-no. Please don’t. I don’t think I.. I don’t want to be bred.” Where the confidence came to speak in this situation, you’ll never know.

He laughed again. “You don’t think? Little One, your job isn’t to think, not anymore. Not ever again. You do as you're told. Like a good pet. Now, come here.” He motioned for you to come closer.

You didn’t move, looking up at him, a small act of defiance – or at least it was supposed to be. The reality was you were too disgusted and petrified to move. Tears were soaking your cheeks again, plopping against your knees before rolling off onto the blanket.

He raised a brow, curious at your reaction. “Why are you crying?” “Because I–” The words stopped again, choked up in a sob. You rubbed your fists against your eyes, swiping them away. “I can’t do this. Not with you. Not after….please.” “Not after what? If you’re going to accuse, do it with your whole chest girl.” “It’s not an accusation! You killed them! You destroyed the city!” You wailed, grabbing the blanket in your fists.

He dropped his cock to put the hand on his stomach, leaning back into a full deep bellowy laugh, clearly finding your outrage and tears hilarious. He finally calmed down, smile still stretched onto his features. His two upper hands cupped your face, the lower ones moving to drag you forward, closer to him, until your noses nearly touched. “Who made me do that?” He asked, mockingly. “Who knew the consequences of her actions, but chose to be a cowardly little mouse anyway?” “B-but –” “No buts. You ran. They died. It’s all your fault, isn’t it?” He cooed, smoothing your tears away from your eyes. “S-stop it.” “Stop what? Reminding you of your own misfortune? Tch. Can’t even take responsibility for your own ineptitude.” He rubbed his nose against yours, a bunny kiss. “This is exactly why you’re not made to think, Little One. Can’t handle more than a thought rattling around up there before you’re in tears. Pathetic. Cute but pathetic.” Yanking you even closer, he had you reseated on him, just above the two appendages between his legs. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll clear all the thoughts out of that head. You’ll only be able to think of me from now on, no more guilt. Sounds nice, doesn’t it?” He pat your head, not giving you the chance to reply, leaning down to lock his lips with yours.

It was a rough kiss, messy, but softer than expected. You let out a “mmph!” into his mouth when you felt the tip of his cock prod against your hole, still slicked up from the tongue. He let go of the kiss, a trail of saliva connecting you both. His hands gripped you, sliding you down over the shaft, the stretch too much at first. As if sensing your discomfort, his abs parted again, the tongue making its way out to flick against you as you adjusted to where you were seated on him. A new gush of slick pooled out of you as your cunt clenched around him while the tongue worked your sensitive bud. It felt good, incredibly good.

“See? Just give in.” He spoke through grunts, beginning to slide you up and down his length. Each time the head of his cock would press against your inwardly sensitive spot before gliding past to kiss your cervix. The tongue below continued to circle and lick at your clit as best it could, following the motions of his hands. You were weightless to him, no harder to manipulate than a fleshlight.

Legs trembling again, your back arched as much as would allow in this position, tensing like a bow string before that familiar tidal wave of pleasure crashed down on you. This time far more intense than before as the tongue kept lapping, his cock kept drilling. Your vision had white spots scattered about, each aftershock of pleasure made you squeal.

Every now and then, the bottom cock would slap at your ass as he glided you back down. The overstimulation nearly hurt with pleasure, a sensation you didn’t think possible to experience. A particularly hard thrust had you whine out again, this time tongue out like a panting puppy, just trying to catch your breath.

He adjusted your positions, this time so your back was pressed into the blanket, legs folded against you. It made the feeling of being full intense, like he was reaching into your ribcage and popping your lungs with each movement. One hand laid flat onto your stomach, splayed out as the outline of his cock disappeared and reappeared beneath it, before pressing down. The pressure was all it took to make you cum again, toes curling, arms clawing at his back to cope with the sensation. Whatever thoughts, worries, memories had been swirling in your brain were dumped out – replaced only with a comforting black numbness as you squeezed your eyes shut, snippets of Sukuna flashing in every now and then.

A few more quick thrusts on his end had him spilling into you, hot cum warming your belly from within, spilling out of your cunt from the overflow. His movements slowed, keeping a pace that was pleasing enough to ride out his own orgasm, but not too quick to overstimulate himself.

Tired. You were tired now, could fall asleep at any moment. He patted your cheek again to get your attention. Lazily, you turned to look at him, chest still heaving as you caught your breath. “I’m not done yet, on your belly.” The thought of getting to blackout on pleasure again made your sore pussy ache again. You beamed him a dopey smile, giggling, before forcing yourself to roll over. You ignored the tired ache in your limbs, lifting your butt up for him. “What a good pet.” He praised. “Learning so quickly.” Sukuna placed the second cock at your entrance, slipping it in easily. He leaned forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into your hip when you yelped. “Marked up, just for me.” He added. “My royal lap dog.”

You nodded eagerly as best you could, face squished down into the bedding. “Bark for me.” “Woof! Woof! Woof!” Humiliation didn’t have a spot in your fucked out blank brain.

“Good girl.” He said through a dry laugh, continuing to pound into you from behind. “Do it again.” “Woof! Woof!”

“Like you mean it, brat.”

You scaled up the pitch a little, bringing your ass back to meet his thrusts. “Woof!”

He rewarded your good behavior by leaning back on his legs, using all four hands to grip you firmly, rabbiting into your tight hole from behind at nearly and inhuman speed. Your front remained flopped forward, mouth open, drooling pooling against your cheek as a fourth orgasm was ripped from you. “That’s it. That’s my good pet, taking all I have to give you.” He grunted one last time before you felt the telltale twitch of the second cock told you he was close. It throbbed inside of you again, pumping more of his seed into your spent hole. He smacked your ass lightly. “What do we say?” “Th-thank you.” You replied dumbly, leg muscles twitching as your lower half slid off of his softening cock and down onto the bed. Your eyes were too heavy now to keep open even as you fought the impending feeling of sleep pulling you down. He said something else, but you didn’t catch what it was, slightly jostled awake by the feeling of being moved.

He’d laid you flat onto him, two arms holding you in place while a third gently stroked your hair and back. The warmth of his chest and the heavy heart beating sound were what did you in, finally letting that happy sinking feeling take over. No thoughts of anything, not even your slain friends as you curled up on him, out like a light.

#Ryomen Sukuna #Ryomen Sukuna x Reader #Sukuna #Sukuna x Reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #Jujutsu Kaisen x Reader #Sukuna x You #Sukuna x Y/N #Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfiction #Fanfic #Oneshot #x reader #Reader Insert #Sukuna jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader

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lovebugism · 11 months

Text

YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN, KID | the beginning.

summary: a year after the end of the world, you and steve share one cigarette and two confessions. (6k)

listen to: "as the world falls down" by david bowie

tags: f!reader, roadtrip fic, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, angst & comfort, post st4, selective canon divergence (some things happen, some things don't), reader goes by the nickname "scout" TW panic attacks, conversations about grief, steve harrington smokes but he's still hot, outfit inspo (not indicative of what r's body type/skin color/etc.)

a/n: kinda surreal that i'm posting this because it's something i've been working on/thinking about for Months. i put so much time and effort and tears into this series so pleasepleaseplease enjoy it! as always, let me know what you think! let's watch these two (sort of) friends run away and fall in love with each other, shall we? <3

JOURNALS | MASTERLIST | SPOTIFY

★。＼｜／。★

The beginning of the rest of your life starts in the murky alleyway outside The Velvet Lounge.

It’s pretty fitting, actually. You feel like you’re close to dying anyway.

The lightning strike of a panic attack comes first as a cold hand around your throat. The clawed talon of a long-gone monster strangles you — sucks all the air out of your lungs and leaves you gasping for a breath you know won’t come.

A second later and the light-up dance floor beneath your feet begins to sway. You blink, and it becomes the desiccated terrain of the Upside Down — again, and the glowing rainbow tiles return. Eventually, it becomes impossible to discern the real from the imaginary.

You feel a bit like the world’s caving in on itself as you stumble through the bustling crowd. The thumping of the heady bass strums throughout your body as you squeeze between a mob of sweatier ones. The merciless pounding makes you forget that your heart’s no longer beating.

The heavy breeze of a summer night smacks you in the face. There is no fresh air outside the buzzing nightclub, just more emptiness.

You lean against the brick wall, clutching desperately onto your chest as you stumble from the exit. The world around you starts to spin on its side, going blurry like you’re being pulled underwater.

You’re drowning, but none’s coming to save you.

To everyone else, you’re just a girl that’s had too many. The girl that’s lost too much.

You duck into the dark alley with the intention of withering away there.

A warm hand brings you back to life.

“Shit, Scout,” Steve Harrington curses behind you. “Are you— Are you okay?”

You’ve never heard the nickname leave his mouth so gently. You don’t think he’s ever touched you so softly, either. It’s all so foreignly tender compared to the war raging inside your skull — you think it would’ve made you weep if you were capable of catching your breath.

His presence is only startling in the sense that you hadn’t expected to find him there.

It was pretty much the reason you’d slinked through the dimly lit passageway in the first place — to die completely and utterly alone. The flickering orange lamplight and damp brick made this place more adequate for puking college kids, canoodling couples, and conniving Ted Bundy’s of the world. Not pretty Steve and his pretty clothes and his pretty hair.

You’re more humiliated at having been caught than you are alarmed by it.

You figure you really shouldn’t be. He’s already seen you at your worst. On your deathbed, crying so hard you puke, so far gone from the world that you’re practically a ghost — that kind of worst.

But for some reason, his wide palm on your shoulder makes you feel fragile. Small. He stands fathoms above you and you’re nothing but an ant under his sneaker — a little delicate thing he could crush completely if he wanted.

Instead, Steve holds you.

His long fingers cradle your trembling shoulder in a steady embrace. A warm reminder that you’re not alone in this gloomy alleyway that still thrums with life. That, in some ways, you’ve never really been alone at all.

“Yeah,” you answer finally, nodding but not looking over at him. You swallow through a tightening throat. “I just… I just need to, uh… to catch my breath.”

Steve eyes you with a gaze swimming with apprehension.

Your shoulder presses into the rough brick while your other hand clings desperately to your chest. Your fingers dig into the soft cotton of your shirt like you’re reaching for your thundering heart. Each of your breaths is ragged, forced, worked for. You grunt your way through every impossible inhale.

Facing away from him under the dim amber streetlight, he can barely make out your profile. He only gets glimpses of your scrunched face and the tear that glimmers gold on your cheek. But with his hand on your arm, he can feel the rapid up-and-down motion of your heavy breaths. Panic sizzles off of you and onto him like static shock.

“Yeah, it was getting kinda crazy in there, huh?” he says within a halfhearted laugh. “I didn’t know people like Duran Duran so much.”

It’s nothing more than a feeble attempt to get you to laugh.

And it works. Sort of.

You’d lost sight of Steve somewhere around the time “Girls on Film” came on. Nancy’s drunken hand pulled you to the dance floor, and every other tipsy woman followed right behind you. He hadn’t seemed to care much about dancing, though. He just sat in the corner booth with Robin until Vickie came by and stole her away. The last you saw him, he was sitting alone at the bar with a basket of chicken wings before disappearing entirely.

But he hadn’t disappeared, you figured. He was just here, in this eerily empty alleyway, trying to get away from it all just as much as you were.

Steve sees the corners of your mouth quirk upward in a grimacing sort of smile. A scoff sounds from your throat a moment later. He thinks that might be the sort of laugh you get from a girl who doesn’t have much to find humor in anymore.

Your newfound relief is his own.

“You okay now?” he asks once you’ve caught your breath.

You nod and settle back against the brick. The fabric of your shirt sticks to the prickly clay. “Yeah,” you repeat, more truthfully this time. “Thanks— Thank you.”

You’re forced to mourn the warmth of the broad hand on your shoulder when he pulls away from you.

He doesn’t stray far, though. He remains at your side with his back to the brick — his frame much taller than your own, broader too. His woody cologne swirls with the purer scent of a summer night and the distant smell of beer. He holds within him an air that can only be described as all-consuming. He’s exactly the feeling of everything warm despite the several inches that separate you.

Steve offers you the lit cigarette in his left hand, and for a reason you can’t name, his kindness takes you by surprise. You’ve fought a monster with the guy, but he still feels like a total stranger to you sometimes.

He sees you hesitate and thinks that this might be the first time either of you have been alone together. You don’t have anything in common except for the party. Without one of the members to accompany you, the fact becomes a heavier weight to bear.

It’s sort of like a peace offering — this half-gone cigarette. A ‘hey, I know we aren’t really friends, but maybe we could be.’

You take it. “Thanks…”

Steve watches you puff from the stick. You hold the thing between your thumb and forefinger, pinching it as you bring it up to your mouth. The huff you take isn’t a deep one, probably the fault of your still staggering breaths, but your eyes flutter shut on the exhale like you’re grateful for the nicotine fix.

He realizes then that he’s never looked at you before. Like, really looked.

Like a ghost, you tend to blend easily into the background, floating around in the shadows without ever being seen. You’re only out tonight because Robin and Nancy forced your hand, but in your darkened outfit — cropped tee, plain skirt, worn boots, all varying shades of black — you threaten to blend in with the night. You do it all with the finesse of a girl who’s all but disconnected herself from the world.

You catch him staring when you hand the cigarette back.

You don’t look weirded out by his prying gaze — quite the opposite, really. You cower under the attention, chin tilting toward your chest and a sheepish smile hinting at your lips. Embarrassed without any actual reason to be.

“Wanna tell me the real reason you came out here?” Steve asks you, covering the serious inquiry with a joking lilt.

Your brows furrow as you watch him bring the cigarette to his own mouth. He’s got this look on his face — raised brows, wide eyes, and quirked lips — almost like he’s teasing you.

You breathe out an awkward laugh.

“What do you mean? I just told you.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It looks more like you’re wincing as you shift your weight on your feet. “I just needed to—”

“To catch your breath,” Steve finishes for you, smoke billowing from his pink lips. The grey lingers between you for a moment before disappearing entirely. He nods with a lopsided grin before handing you back the cigarette. “Yeah. I heard you. I just don’t believe you.”

Your eyes go wide. He can’t tell if you’re shocked by his bluntness or if you’re embarrassed at having been caught so quickly. Maybe a healthy mixture of both.

Your throat tightens all over again. You swallow thickly as you turn away from him and it feels like you’re forcing down a too big pill. The back of your eyes burn with unshed tears, so many stinging needles that you force yourself to blink away.

And even though you’re just trying not to cry at the reality of the situation you’ve spent a year hiding from, to Steve it looks like you’re searching for a way out. Your gaze snaps to the opening of the alley where nicely dressed people bustle on the other side, their conversations far away and muffled.

He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable. He just thought you could use a friend, considering you were only just recovering from the windswept panic spell.

“Look. You— You tell me why you’re out here, and I’ll tell you why I am,” he offers, partly to make you feel better.

The other half of it, which he finds it startling to admit, is that he doesn’t want you to leave.

He’d spent fifteen minutes by himself in the dark — half comforted by it, half frightened. Despite his distant unfamiliarity with you, he’s weirdly comforted by your presence. Steve’s seen enough people walk away from him to know he doesn’t want you to join them.

You look at him again, more glassy-eyed than you’d been before. Your sniffle is nearly inaudible. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “You know… A you-show-me-yours, I’ll-show-you-mine kinda thing.”

It sounds a lot weirder coming out of his mouth than he expected it to. It makes you laugh, though, so it feels sort of worth it.

“That sounds really pervy,” you tease with a more sincere smile.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just— Maybe just ignore that last part, yeah?” he stammers stiffly, laughing softly at himself shortly after.

You finally take a hit from the cig between your fingers. Your gaze falls to your boots.

They were a gift from someone you knew a long time ago — someone you don’t know anymore because they’re gone.

It was a well-loved anniversary present you’ve worn every day since you got them. They’re a bit tattered now, obviously worn on the platformed bottoms. You don’t know how many times you’ve glued the soles back together now — or how many times you’ve tried to wash away the faded bloodstain by the laces that refuses to come out.

It’s as stuck there as the memories in your head are.

And even though you’ve never talked about it out loud, you think you could write a million words about how looking at the stain makes you feel — about all the thoughts that swirl within you at the sight of it and why you can’t throw them out despite it all. You’d write about the boy who bought them for you, whose name it’s still so hard to say — the boy who you loved who was gone.

It was just easier to shove it all down.

You kept your grief horribly discreet, like a poorly stitched-together wound.

If you couldn’t even burden yourself with it, why should you expect anyone else to?

But here Steve goes, offering to let that raging wound breathe.

Something about the ultimatum makes it more comforting. It’s a lot easier to tell a kept secret when you know another hidden confession is coming right after it. You don’t know if you’ll ever get this chance again — to shield your grief with someone else’s.

“Okay,” you answer suddenly before exhaling the gray from your lungs. You outstretch your hand to give him the cigarette back. You try to smile. “You first, though.”

Steve puffs from the stick before he answers you. For a moment, it’s nothing but muffled conversations and a stifled bass that rattles the brick. The quiet is noticeably less suffocating than all the quiets you’ve known before — less lonely now that you’ve got someone to share them with.

“I hate parties,” he summarizes with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you joke.

He flicks the end of the cigarette to dispel the ash. Grey specks fall to the damp concrete. When he hands it off to you again, your fingers brush his own. Your skin is much cooler than the humid summer air surrounding you.

“I mean, I used to like parties. I think,” Steve explains, still rather vague, gesturing with wild hands like you’re used to. “Really, I just liked to drink, you know? ‘Cause everyone liked me when I was drunk. I was the popular guy — Mr. Funny, Mr. Cool. But, uh… I guess somewhere down the line, I forgot how to have fun like that.”

“Forgot how to have fun?” you repeat with a sad sort of laugh. Your brows scrunch and your swim with sympathy. The streetlamp casts sharp shadows on his chiseled features, but he still looks at you so soft — eyes sweet with the tenderness he holds there and smiling just the same.

It’s hard to believe that the King of Hawkins High could’ve ever felt anything other than total elation when he had a whole ocean outside his front door on Fairview Lane.

“I think they have a name for that these days, Harrington.”

He laughs and turns to press his shoulder into the brick. He’s facing you now, and it feels much more like he’s looming over you.

You remain against the wall, still a bit overwhelmed by the presence of a boy who never would’ve looked your way a year or more ago. It takes everything in you not to duck away from him completely.

“Well, I was only having fun because I was drunk, right?” he elaborates, brown eyes a golden amber beneath the flickering light. They twinkle looking down at you.

“Sure…” you shrug to humor him.

“And, like, I can deal with the hangovers and everything no problem, you know, but the… The waking up the next morning. The remembering, I guess. Remembering everything I was trying to forget when I was drinking. That’s… That’s the worst part.”

You don’t realize how intently you’re looking at him at first. Every quirk of his rosy mouth, every twitch of his bushy brow, every glint of his chocolate eyes as he divulges a deeply held secret doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Behind all the pretty hair and expensive clothes is a boy much sadder than you could’ve imagined.

Something bigger had done a number on him. Something more than the end of the world.

His upturned gaze returns to you and you realize you haven’t blinked once.

You do a rather shit job of pretending you weren’t just staring. You haphazardly turn away again, handing him the cigarette despite not having put your mouth to it.

“Yeah, I— I get what you mean…”

Your words seem to surprise him. His brows pinch like he was more prepared to be made fun of than empathized. He takes the cig from you with an absentminded hand. It goes quickly forgotten.

“You do?”

“Well, not so much with drinking, but… It happens to me in the morning sometimes,” you shrug, feigning nonchalance, and trying not to seem like it’s a phenomenon you’ve experienced every day for a year and a half. “It’s, like, that split second of bliss right before the grief comes back, right?”

Steve blinks owlishly. Then nods.

“That half a moment where nothing bad’s ever happened to you, and it’s just the sun shining on you before the… the bad shit comes back again. Like it never even left.”

And Steve, who’s never met another person who could so easily understand him and that otherwise indescribable feeling so perfectly, is stunned into silence.

Maybe it’s his fault for keeping it all to himself, like a love letter he can’t bring himself to unfold. It’s entirely likely that he could find a million people in the world who’ve felt all the same feelings he’s garnered over the past couple of years. It still wouldn’t hold the same weight as being understood now — being understood by someone who’s been through the end of the world with him.

Being understood without all the empty words.

“Yeah,” he nods finally, clearing his throat. His cheeks glow red when he realizes he’d forgotten to speak because he was too busy looking at you. “Yeah, exactly— Shit!”

The sides of his fingers sting with a sharp ache. The cig in his hand drops to the ground, half the size of his pinky. There isn’t much left of it now, and that’s why it burns him so. It hits the concrete, more ash than stick. The skin of Steve’s finger blackens as it blazes.

“Oh— Are you okay?” you grimace.

Steve snuffs out the burning cigarette with the toe of his sneaker.

“Yeah, I— I just wasn’t paying attention,” he dismisses with the shake of his head, more so at himself than anything else. It’s the first time he’s had an actual conversation with you, and he’s already embarrassed himself twice. He’ll count himself lucky if you care enough to talk to him again.

“Your go, Scout,” he offers suddenly in a measly attempt to get the attention off of him and his blunder. He wipes the ash from his pointer and middle finger on his jeans. “See if you can out-miserable me.”

You roll your eyes at him, still smiling. “What is this? The trauma olympics?”

“C’mon. I’m kidding,” he assures with a lilt. He reaches out to nudge your arm with his knuckles and, like before, his touch is almost too soft for you to feel it. The act of platonic intimacy takes you momentarily by surprise.

His smile is crooked. His eyes glimmer with honey. “I was kidding,” he repeats.

“It was just that, um— that song,” you answer. It comes out more choked than you expected it to. “They started playing that song.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “What song?” he asks. Not pressing. Only curious.

“That one that… that Eddie played when I…”

“Oh.”

“I used to love that stupid song— I mean, obviously. It sorta saved me from what should’ve been an unavoidable death, so…” You manage to laugh at yourself as you ramble.

Steve can’t find it in himself to do the same.

He’d been terrified when it happened to Max — when the kid he was involuntarily babysitting started to float in midair, nearly succumbing to the curse of a monster that should’ve been make-believe. He was relieved when she fell back down again, but you? He was certain you were a goner.

You were too high up and Eddie’s guitar was too far away. The beginning notes of I Was Made For Lovin’ You were too grim and Vecna’s claws were in too deep. You were too distant, too banished.

For several agonizing seconds, you were destined to remain a stranger to him.

But here you are now, sharing cigarettes and secrets.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you shake your head at yourself. “But, um, anyway. Yeah. It’s just… Sometimes things will happen, you know? Like I’ll— I’ll hear a song or… I’ll see something that reminds me of him— of Eddie. And it’s just like…”

“…Like you’re in the Upside Down again?” Steve finishes gently for you when he sees that you can’t.

You nod, wordlessly for a moment, until the words catch up with you.

“Like nightmares, but when I’m awake,” you force through a closing throat. “And they’re so real. Like… I can— I can hear him. I can hear him talking to me, and I’m— I’m holding him, and I can feel him breathing, you know? He’s still breathing, but—”

You take a staggering breath in. For a moment, Steve’s scared you’re tumbling headfirst into another panic attack.

His attentive eyes flit between your scrunched up face and the trembling hands you hold out in front of you. You’re cradling something that isn’t there anymore. You look down at your palms with a horror that tells him you understand that, too — that the person you used to hold isn’t able to be held anymore.

“I can feel the… the blood. And it’s just… It’s all over me. And I’m losing him. I’m losing him all over again—”

You hiccup a measly sob when your lungs force you to take a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It puts an end to your rambling. You’re grateful enough for it. You’d already said more than you were planning to — more than you thought you’d say in a lifetime.

You think you must sound deranged, talking about a corpse like it’s still a warm body you hold every night.

In some ways, it is.

You sniffle and blink back burning tears. Your smile edges on sincerity. “So, what do you think, Harrington? Did I out-miserable you?”

Steve scoffs in the place of a real laugh. “I didn’t have a dog in that fight, did I? What you went through… I mean, I shouldn’t even be complaining.”

“Hey, c’mon,” you scold gently. “We both went through shit. It was all bad, no matter how you look at it. Just because we didn’t go through the same stuff doesn’t mean what happened to you is any less important.”

You just barely catch his cinnamon eyes going glassy before he turns away from you entirely. His stubbled cheeks blotch with varying shades of pink, glowing with an emotion he can’t keep hidden. He looks down at his dirty sneakers because he can’t bare to look at you now.

Understanding, that’s what this is. Understanding without all the empty words.

It’s still hard for him to believe them, though.

In the grand scheme of things, what happened to him wasn’t so terrible.

He wasn’t under any sort of curse. No one he cared about was irrevocably hurt, either. And he didn’t have to hold someone he loved in his arms while they bled to death — doesn’t have to feel like he’s still holding onto them a year after it all.

Despite the marred scars on his mind and body, Steve convinces himself that he has no reason to be sad — even though that’s not really how sadness works. Grief isn’t the kind of thing you can just will away, but he beats himself up when he can’t — when the heartache wins.

It’s a never-ending cycle. A loop he’s been stuck in since he was seventeen. A portal he was terrified would never close.

Now, at least, it feels sort of possible.

“You shouldn’t talk like that, Scout,” he jokes after the urge to weep has passed. He tilts his head to his shoulder and smiles a crooked grin. “I’m gonna start to think you like me.”

Without missing a beat, you retort: “Please, never ever think that. That would completely shatter my reputation.”

You both laugh with the knowing that it’s all just a joke.

You never had much of a reputation because you spent your whole life being invisible. You liked it best that way because never being seen meant nothing was ever expected of you. You’ll happily take someone you went to school with your entire life never knowing your name than any bogus Hawkins High royalty status any day.

Steve, better known by his title of King, wishes now that he’d taken a page out of your book. He learned the power of invisibility far too late.

“Who woulda thought, huh?” the boy sighs, chocolate eyes turned up to the velvet blue sky. “You and me… being friends.”

You arch a brow at him. “Oh, is that what we are now?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve scoffs like it’s obvious. “They didn’t tell you? You fight monsters together, and you’re bonded for life.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. I mean, why do you think me and Henderson are so close?”

“So you’re saying you would’ve never been friends if it wasn’t for the end of the world?” you reiterate with a challenging squint.

“That’s almost exactly what I’m saying. Yeah,” he nods with his pink lips jutted softly out. “If none of that shit ever happened, I’d still be that raging douchebag I used to be. My life would be… so much different.”

“Worse?” you press.

He thinks for a moment.

Without the whole end-of-the-world thing, he never would’ve met Dustin. He never would’ve gotten closer to Robin. Nancy never would’ve had a reason to break up with him, and he figures he’d have long settled down with her by now. They’d be that miserable couple that somehow manages to make it.

He’d probably still be friends with Tommy Hagan, too, getting drunk at parties he’s too old to be at. He’d still be the King Steve everyone loved and hating every second of it.

Fighting monster after monster changed him for the better. Even with its horror, how could he ever take that back?

He winces at the realization. “Yeah…”

“So you’d do it all over again?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“I think so, yeah.” Steve’s smile is shy as he ducks his gaze, peering at you through his lashes. “I’m a total idiot, right?”

Your brows pinch together as you shake your head. “No. I don’t think so… Actually, I think the end of the world looks pretty good on you, Harrington.”

He knows you don’t mean it how it sounds. He gets the feeling you’re talking less about his appearance and more about why he’s standing out here in the first place — talking to a girl he’s halfway known all his life whose name he didn’t know until she almost died.

For the same reason — the one that’s brought you to him and this alley — he jokes back: “It looks good on you, too, Scout.”

Again, you laugh with the understanding that you’re joking. For the most part, at least.

You’re both so weathered with grief, looking much older than your years, forced to wear your woe all over. For whatever transformation the trauma might’ve done internally, it hadn’t done anything on the outside than leave scars that won’t fade.

When the laughter subsides, a silence roars to life.

Not a total one. You can still hear the pounding bass from inside The Velvet Lounge and the muddled chatter of people coming in and out of it. It’s not a totally uncomfortable one either, which is far more than you thought you could ever say about talking to Steve The Hair Harrington.

But it’s still sort of heavy in its way. Likely with the idea of what the both of you know and of everything you’ve confessed out loud.

Now that it’s all out in the open, Steve’s got no idea how to move on. How is he supposed to joke around now? How does he say anything but sorry to the girl who holds all her grief in her eyes?

“Hey, Scout?” he calls quietly.

Your leftover grin hasn’t yet faded. “Hm?”

“I’m… I’m really sorry.”

The smile ebbs entirely.

“Why are you apologizing?” you ask with the shake of your head, almost flinching at the sudden condolence. “You didn’t… You’re not the one that killed Eddie.”

“I know. I just… I feel like I should— like I should say it, you know?”

“That’s the worst part about all of this, I think. Like… you lose someone, and no one knows how to talk to you anymore,” you confess, a sad smile hinting at the very corners of your lips — so soft it’s barely there. Your gaze falls to your boots again. “Everyone just feels so sorry for you all the time. All anyone ever wants to do is talk about what happened like I don’t have to think about it enough, you know? It just… It makes it impossible to move on.”

Steve winces. He can’t ever say the right thing. “I’m sorry—”

“Stop apologizing,” you tell him, laughing. “I’m not saying that— I’m just… I’m just saying. I think it’d be easier if I didn’t have to stay here. You know, where everything happened. If I could… Like, if I could just go, I think that maybe I could get better.”

“You could,” Steve affirms with a nod.

Your brows furrow. “Get better?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs, amber gaze flitting between your glittering eyes and his dirty sneakers. “And… And leave. You know, if you wanted to.”

The thought alone makes you laugh. “By myself? With no car? Barely any money?”

“You wouldn’t have to go alone,” he promises.

“Yeah?” you scoff, still grinning like it’s all a joke to you. “And who would want to run away with a girl with a broken heart?”

He answers without thinking and with a lopsided smile. “The boy with nothing to lose.”

Your smile fades with the heavy weight of his offer.

It isn’t just about running away. It’s about running away together — two people with nothing in common besides a mutual hatred for a dark wizard from the underworld, ditching a town that hasn’t done shit for them, and pretending like nothing’s ever hurt them.

And at first, you’re shocked. Who wouldn’t be with such an offer thrown at their feet? But then, and more than anything else, you’re confused. Why would Steve want to run away? you think to yourself. Why would he want to run away with you?

When the bolt blue finally dissipates, you’re left with a simmering feeling of disbelief.

Steve shouldn’t want this, and he shouldn’t want it with you.

“You’re drunk,” you conclude, smiling because it’s a joke again.

“Yeah. Maybe,” Steve shrugs with his gaze pointed to the sky. The stars are hidden beneath layers of light and pollution. They’re out there somewhere, but he can’t see them — not from where he is now. He looks back to you, a sheepish smile playing on his pink mouth. “But… I’m not.”

“Would you seriously want to leave?” you squint. With me, you keep to yourself, unsaid.

“I’ve, uh— I’ve been wanting to for a while, actually. Even before all of… this,” he confesses, waving his hand out into the ether. He grins in reminiscence, but not the fond kind. “My dad— he’s just been dogging me about work and college and everything, you know? I think he wants me to be the same big shot business douchebag that he is, and I get it, but…”

You lean closer to him, brows furrowed. “But what?” you press.

Steve exhales a sad laugh. “I really don’t wanna end up like my dad,” he admits — a thought he kept like a thorn in his side finally said out loud. “And I’m scared that, if I stay here, I will.”

“So you’ve just been looking for a way out. All this time?” you wonder aloud. While I thought you were on top of the world, you were wanting out of it.

Steve shrugs, then nods.

“And a girl with nothing to lose?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly to himself. “That, too.”

You turn away from him again, deep in thought. Steve mourns your gaze — its attentiveness more than anything, the way you look at him and seem to understand him without saying a goddamn word. He didn’t think that was possible before now.

You think to yourself for a moment. Mostly because it’s something you know you should think about before you do it.

How will you pay your way? Where will you go? What will you do when you get there?

What will your parents say when they notice you’re gone? How long will it take before they do?

Who’ll feed the stray cats outside the trailer park?

Who’ll leave flowers at Eddie’s grave once a month and clean it when it’s ultimately vandalized by assholes who still think he was a mass murderer sent from Hell to do Satan’s bidding?

There’s a lot of questions you don’t have answers for.

What little you do know, though, you’re certain of.

You know there’s nothing left for you in Hawkins.

You don’t have much family — especially not since Eddie — and your friends aren’t really your friends. Sure, Nancy invites you out from time to time, but she’d never call you to dish about secrets and shared trauma in this way. Sometimes you think they only include you because your boyfriend died, and they all saw what it did to you.

And you also know that there’s nothing holding you back but grief. To absolve yourself from it all, to finally move the fuck on, you’re going to have to leave it all behind. It’s not like you’d be missing much anyway.

You’re still a ghost because you live in a soul-sucking town full of people who only want to talk to you when it’s to remind you that the only person you’ve ever loved is dead.

Nothing has brought you back to life quite like this boy and his secrets and offer to run away.

You think you’d been an idiot to walk away from it. From him.

“Fuck it.”

Steve almost flinches at how feverishly you turn to face him again.

His brows raise to his hairline, honey eyes going wide at the abrupt nature of your sudden reply. “…Fuck it?” he echoes, not nearly as confident as you’d said it — just grateful that you’d said it at all.

For a boy who always expects rejection, your innate acceptance of him and his previously kept secrets makes his chest swell with so much warmth that it’s started to burn him. He can feel his ribcage turning to ash and his heart melting as he speaks.

“Fuck it,” you nod, more serious than he’s ever seen you.

You turn to face him fully, something you’d been too timid to do just minutes ago. You’re more sure now — of him, of this. The proximity between your bodies forces you to tilt your head up to look at him. Similarly, his chin falls to his chest to peer at you.

Tucked away in this alley, you’re made of shadows and shades of gold. The lamplight still flickers over your heads. The brick still shakes with the drumming, muffled bass. You don’t realize until now that you can feel your heart beating again.

“Let’s do it,” you shrug with a blast of hopeful anticipation swelling in your chest, more optimistic than you’ve been in a year. “Nothing to lose, right?”

Steve grins.

“Nothing to lose,” he repeats, reminding himself of the fact when reality starts to set in on him. Even if he fails, even if it all goes wrong and he’s waking up in his childhood bed a week from now, he can’t get any lower than rock bottom. Besides, now he’s got you to fall back on, right?

“Fuck it.”

★。／｜＼。★

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #yoyok

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year

Text

eyes on me, darling

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You knew that sending Loki raunchy pictures as you tried on lingerie was going to have consequences. You just didn't think that they would be coming your way so quickly.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, do not even think of trying me, i am not the one); mirror play; fingering; hand necklace; semi-public smutting(?); sexting; 1 cuss word [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

You'd be playing with fire if you did this. You knew that in your bones. And yet somehow you found yourself in the mood to push Loki's limits, fully knowing that he was in a mission debriefing being run by the master of "this entire thing could have been an email" Captain Steve Rogers and bored out of his godly mind.

Meanwhile you were out with Natasha and Wanda in Sugar Cookies Lingerie, the final stop to your impromptu shopping trip to prepare your attire for yet another one of Stark's extravagant charity galas. Of course, this particular stop was more for yourselves than for the benefit of anyone attending the event. A touch of fun to counteract the humdrum of the exercise itself.

Now here you were, donning a black babydoll made with a sheer mesh material and lace cups split down the front, kneeling on the large ottoman in the fitting area in front of a mirror, snapping a picture to send to your boyfriend. You sat back on your heels, thighs slightly parted, hand playing with the split mesh panels of the garment while all your hair was swept to one side. You kept your face hidden and when you were satisfied with what you saw on your screen you snapped the picture.

Considering wearing this to the gala. Thoughts?

While you waited for a reply from the god, you changed into another babydoll garment of the same materials. This time with no split down the front, a satin bow at the bottom of your cleavage, and set in his signature green. Just as you were adjusting the cups to support your breasts a bit more securely, your phone buzzed with a new message.

You should know better than to play with my composure, my love. You might not like the consequences.

"And so it seems I've awoken the beast," you murmured to yourself, quickly making a note to buy the black. A new message came in just as you made your way to the mirror again to send him a photo of the green attire, your breath catching in your throat in an odious sound as your screen loaded up a picture of his arrantly large hand grasping an obvious erection through the fabric of his trousers.

Now the act of sending salacious messages in itself wasn't a novel experience for you two; what was new, however, was that when you zoomed in on the photo to look at the floor, you recognized the carpeting of the main conference room.

He took it during the fucking debriefing, that horn dog, you thought to yourself as your jaw dropped to the ground, your mind quickly forming a response that could up the ante on testing his composure. You opened the front-facing camera and began recording a video, making sure to not record lower than your neck.

"Okay so I take it not the black one, Mischief?" you spoke into the camera before flipping the setting to the back camera pointed at the mirror, showing the new outfit you picked out. "How about this one then? Little better?"

You snickered to yourself once you stopped recording and sent the video over to him, reaching behind your neck to undo the ribbon holding the top half of the garment up.

A sharp gasp escaped you the moment you felt a cool hand wrap around yours, another going over your mouth as a tall frame pressed against you from behind. "Not a sound, my darling." A thrill ran through you at the sound of Loki's voice rasping in your ear. "You know what you were doing when you put this on, didn't you?" He moved his hand from your mouth to your throat, a heady feeling taking over you as you felt him squeezing at the sides.

He began to maneuver you both until you were facing the mirror once again, the image of the god with the sleeves of his forest green button down rolled up to reveal his sinewy forearms, towering over you in your currently vulnerable state of dress had you very quickly growing wet between your thighs. "Loki--"

"Answer the question, my love." You could both see and feel how he smirked against the side of your face, a delicious shiver running through your body as his eyes met yours in the reflection and pressed a deceptively tender kiss to your cheek. "Oh…" He dragged out the word with a low rasp, like he was trying to drive you mad from just the sound of his voice.

He was succeeding.

"This excites you, doesn't it?" You turned your head to face him, his question jarring you and filling you with a touch of mortification. "Oh, darling…" he cooed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his hand moving from your throat to rest lightly on your shoulder. "You need not be ashamed of what arouses you. Especially with me."

It felt as if it took all your strength to form the words. "It does," you breathed out, your breath catching as a brilliant smile stretched across his face. "Just a bit."

"Well then, my darling mortal, look back at our reflection then and enjoy the show."

You turned your gaze back to the mirror, your breath hitching in your throat as he placed one of your hands on his thigh, his free hand moving to lightly ghost across the lace covering your breast before cupping the clothed mound in his hand, the sight of the god closing his eyes and groaning in your ear before placing a kiss on your cheek nearly enough to make you come undone.

There was something about being able to watch what was happening to you as it was being done in real time that really struck a chord with you, stirring and intensifying your desire tenfold and reducing you to staggered whimpers of his name as his hands roamed your body, one of them already finding its way between your legs and meeting the soaked fabric of your panties.

A sharp moan escaped you as his eyes opened and met yours in the reflection, pupils blown out to turn his usually steely blue gaze a breathtaking onyx.

"Y/N??"

It was like ice shot through your veins at the sound of Wanda's voice outside your fitting room, making you clap a hand over your mouth as you suddenly remembered that you didn't walk into this store alone.

"Babes, are you okay in there? I heard a sound…Do you need help getting out of something?"

"Tell her you're alright or she will barge in here and we're going to suddenly have an audience, min kjære." Just as you lifted your hand from your mouth, Loki moved the fabric of your panties to the side and began to brush his fingers along the length of your slit, causing you to close your eyes as you struggled to silence your reactions. "No, no, my love. Keep your eyes on me. On us."

You followed his soft-spoken command without hesitation, knowing full well that if you didn't he would stop and leave you wanting until you did so. You took a deep, shaky breath and did your beat to answer your friend outside. "I'm fine, Wan." You hid your reaction to his fingertips ghosting over your clit with a barely convincing grunt. "Nothing I can't get myself out of."

"If you say so…" Her tone was so overtly skeptical, as if she already knew what was going on in there without either of you even making a sound. "I'll wait for you and Natasha out here."

Your hand gripped tighter at your lover's thigh, a scream dying at the back of your throat as you watched his reflection smirking at you before pressing a kiss to your shoulder and pushing his fingers inside you, easily finding the spot that had your lungs burning with the screams that you kept on tamping down as he lazily stroked at the soft flesh.

"O-Okay then I'll be out in a bit."

"Knowing her, Nat's probably sending pictures to Bucky." You inwardly groaned as Wanda's laughter floated into your fitting room, finding it nearly impossible to not react to her words with anything more than a half hearted 'Oh?' Thankfully, it was enough to keep her seemingly unsuspicious of you. "Yeah. Nice little reminder of what he's already got because that nepo baby Carter's trying to move in on her territory."

"Is she now?" Another moan went silent as the god moved his fingers inside you with firmer, faster strokes. As if he was actively trying to get you to break and expose yourselves to the sorceress right outside.

"Oh yeah. And I'd honestly suggest you send some to your guy, too." You gave Loki a pointed stare through the mirror, almost identical smirks finding their way to your faces at the suggestion. "I got a text from Jane saying that she overheard Carter setting her sights on Mr Mischief. Told her not to worry though because Loki's more whipped for you than Thor is for her," she finished off with a laugh.

You fought to stay quiet once more, your body falling backward against him as his free hand weaved through your hair and tilted your head to expose your neck to him, the heady feeling of his lips languidly gliding along the delicate skin further worsening your urge to moan. To beg for more. To even just say his name.

"That I am," he whispered against your skin. "There could be hordes of women surrounding me with their bodies bared and I'd only ever wish to look upon yours." Whimpers and moans died in squeaks at the back of your throat as his fingers picked up the pace inside you, stroking against that spot inside of you in a merciless pace. "Face me, min elskede."

When you turned your head to face him, seeing the way his eyes were a near perfect black and yet still shining with a tenderness he'd only shown around you stole the breath from your lungs. 'I love you', you mouthed, finding yourself unable to even sound out your sentiments.

"I love you, little temptress," he rasped before leaning down to press his lips to yours in an impassioned kiss that made you feel as if your entire body had been consumed by desire. By pleasure. By him. When you opened your eyes, you saw a flash of green washing over the room briefly before fading into something too imperceptible for your eyes. "I've silenced the room. You no longer need to hold yourself back."

A loud moan slipped through your lips as he pushed his fingers in deeper inside you, the heel of his palm pressing and rubbing against your clit with every movement being the catalyst that made you come undone, writhing against him as you rode out your release on his fingers, your sounds dying out as you came down from your high.

When your breathing began to even out, you felt his seiðr washing over you as he withdrew his fingers, not bothering to mask your smile as you began once again to change out of the babydoll, reaching up to undo the ribbon behind your neck. All the while he stood watch, sitting on the large ottoman with his legs spread in a silent invitation for you to come over once you were finished, shamelessly sucking your release off his fingers.

"I'm sure it goes without saying but that piece is coming home with you."

You let out a giggle at his words, fixing the skirt of your black sundress before stepping toward him and letting him maneuver you to sit on his thigh. "So I take it that's a yes for the gala?"

"Absolutely not." You could feel your arousal building again at the husked tone of his voice. "But tonight…when I see you at home, the flimsy little garment stays on while I ravish you."

A/N: Can you believe this is the 2nd last story for this collection? And tomorrow's finale is…well, I'm still writing it but I will have it ready for Valentine's Day I promise.

Translations: min kjære – my dear min elskede – my beloved

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress

Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @cheekyscamp @lokisgoodgirl @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration

#14 days of valentines collection #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #muddyorbs writes

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rachey899 · 6 months

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Why Can't I Be Normal?

Size shifter short story featuring my beloved OC Luke. Poor Luke has a bad dream followed by an emotional outburst; lucky he has his family there to support him. Approx 2.8k words.

The world was so small around him, he looked around at the destruction he had caused, buildings had crumpled under his destructive hands, flattened houses that used to belong to his neighbors, gone. He could hear screams, but they were distant, he didn’t know what happened, only that everything around him was broken and it was his fault. There were tiny people littered like ants for as far as he could see and they scattered around him, all crying and running away from him.

“Luke!”

The frightened ten-year-old boy scanned the chaos around his feet and his eyes landed on his mother, tiny, broken, bleeding and stuck under a large piece of debris, he reached down to help free her, but he paused when she screamed in fear.

“D-Don’t hurt me!” She sobbed, Luke’s heart was racing, she looked at him like he was a monster.

“Luke!” She called for him again with urgency, but he didn’t know how to help her without scaring her or hurting her further, his heart ached.

“M-mum, I-I can’t-.”

“Luke!

“Luke! Baby, wake up!”

Luke’s eyes snapped open, he was covered in a cold sweat and shaking like a leaf, he had been so scared, but it had only been a dream, just a nightmare. He stared at the ceiling that looked much closer than it should have been, his eyes only a foot or two away from the tiny light globe, his heart began to race again but he dared not move.

“Mum?” He called out carefully, he must have grown in his sleep, but how?

“Luke, try to stay calm for me, okay?” He could hear her small voice, but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from, he felt his body tighten again and he groaned in pain.

“Mum what’s happening to me!” He had never shifted in his sleep before and he was scared, his voice shook the foundations around him, and the ceiling got closer, his eyes widened, he was still growing, and he was still in the house, this was not good.

“Luke turn your head this way, I’m right here.” Her voice was closer now, coming from his right side and he turned his head carefully in that direction. His mother stood beside his face, brown hair in a frazzled mess from sleep swept her shoulders and she wore mickey mouse flannelette pajamas, they were her favorite, she looked worried but not scared like she had been in his dream.

“There baby, see, I’m right here, your okay, take some deep breathes for me.” Her voice was calm like water, and he instantly felt better, she had a way about her that kept him calm, and she was usually the one who helped him to shrink back to normal when he had bursts like this.

Still seeing her there beside him, so small in such a cramped space that was only getting smaller, frightened him, even her voice couldn’t stop the tight aches coursing through him.

“Mum I’m scared.” He whispered, letting the tears leak out of his large blue eyes, his fingers felt the floor beneath him, his bed utterly destroyed, and his toes wriggled in the broken plaster that had been the wall on the opposite side of his bed. He hadn’t outgrown the house…yet.

“I know honey, remember what we practiced, just focus and breathe.”

“Where’s Dad and Ivy? Are they okay? I-I didn’t hurt them?” His mind raced and his face paled at the thought of what he might have done, his little sister Ivy’s room was beside his, exactly where his feet were right now.

“They are both safe, they are outside. Luke, you need to concentrate.” She said this a little more sternly this time, her eyes the very same as his own focusing intently on him.

He nodded carefully and closed his eyes, he counted his breaths, in and out slowly. He winced as he felt another sharp tightening of his body and he opened his eyes again looking at his mother with fear dripping from him as he watched her shrink, becoming smaller and smaller before his eyes.

He felt his feet hit another wall and drew them up slightly, so his knees were touching the ceiling, not wanting to break through another wall and potentially completely destroy the house.

“I can’t. I c-can’t stop it.” He said urgently.

“Okay, listen to me very carefully, we’re going to get you out of here.” She took a step closer to him and he almost flinched back in fear, not out of fear of her but out of fear of hurting her if she got much closer.

“Luke, I want you to hold me in your hand-.” He was shaking his head before she’d even finished explaining.

“N-no, I can’t, I’ll h-hurt you.”

“You won’t, because you are gentle, I know you. Hold me in your hand and then with your other hand I want you to push through this wall here.” She gestured to the wall behind his head, there was a window there but much too small for him to fit through now.

“Can you do that?” She asked gently, he gulped unsure of himself but nodded anyway.

Carefully he moved his arm closest to his mother until he was in a position where he could touch her with his fingers. Then slowly he wrapped his hand around his mother as though she were one of his action figures before raising her up slightly and holding her securing to his chest.

He glanced down to make sure that she was unhurt, but she waved him on, urging him to keep going.

With his left hand he slowly reached up behind his head, careful not to bump the walls that were slowly closing in around him and gently pushed into the wall. His eyes widened at the small amount of pressure he had applied, and he’d created a hole already, so easily, his mother called for him to keep going.

Once he’d knocked down the wall completely, he was free to fit his shoulders through, and with great care using his feet and free hand, he wriggled himself along the ground through the hole and outside. Only when his feet had cleared the house by a few feet did he stop and sigh staring up at the starry sky.

He carefully lifted his hand from his mother, allowing her to climb off of him on her own, once she was safely on the ground and a good distance away, he sat up crossing his legs and surveying the damage. The house was still standing, for that he was grateful but the wall he had smashed through looked horrible, and he could see through the wall his feet had crashed through into Ivy’s room, everything was a mess.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered shakily, his hands lay limp in his lap and he wondered if it wasn’t a dream at all, maybe it was a reality, maybe he was a monster incapable of anything but destruction, he clenched his fists suddenly angry.

“Luke? How are you doing bud?” His father had come over to check on his wife and unique son, clutching a small six-year-old girl on his hip.

“I hate this.” He stood then without warning, shaking the ground beneath his parents and causing the horses over the boundary fence to whinny and flee from him.

“Why do I have to be this giant freak!?” He stamped his foot causing a small crater, his parents stepped back, giving the young boy room.

“And if I’m not a giant I’m tiny and useless!” He kicked at one of the oak trees sending it flying through the air and landing in a field off their property, he glanced at his parents, so far away and so small, he hated seeing them like this, it made him feel like a monster.

“Why can’t I be normal!” He was just about to kick at another tree, having felt better releasing his anger that way when he heard a small cry. It hadn’t come from either of his parents, they only looked on with wide eyes, his mother with her hand over her mouth and his father holding on tightly to a writhing child.

Ivy screamed again, thrashing against her father, tears streaming down her face, she was scared, her big brother had never scared her like this before, she’d seen him big, but he had always been so gentle with her. Why was he being so scary now? She wanted to run away.

She managed to loosen her father’s grip on her and land on the ground and then she ran away, in the opposite direction of the scary giant who was not her brother.

Luke planted his foot down carefully on the ground, sparing the tree as tears stung his eyes, he had scared her. Ivy, his sweet little sister that loved him no matter what size he was. She’d use him as a playground to climb all over when he was big, and carried him protectively when he was small, not letting anyone else touch him.

Seeing her so fearful of him broke his heart and he immediately stepped towards her, to follow her and explain that he would never hurt her.

“Luke don’t!” His father yelled below him, ignoring his father’s words, he stepped over both his parents and followed his sister to her favorite hiding spot, the tree house.

Ivy scurried up the ladder on shaky legs until she’d reached the safety of their tree house, this place was strictly off limits to grown ups and she knew the giant couldn’t reach her there, he simply wouldn’t fit.

Luke approached the tree house and knelt down in front of it, trying to peer through the small window to glimpse his sister. Ivy shrieked when a large blue eyed filled the window and she ducked down below the windowpane to avoid being seen.

“Get away!” She screeched as loudly as she could manage, she was tired and scared and alone, she wanted nothing more than for her brother to hug her and tell her she was okay, and brave. She didn’t feel brave right now.

Luke flinched at her words, they hurt his heart, his lips quivered, and he cried anew.

“Ivy I’m sorry I s-scared you, I didn’t mean to.” There was silence from within the treehouse, but Ivy opened her sweet brown eyes and listened to the sobbing giant right outside, sniffling herself.

“I was angry, I’m still angry but not at you, never at you. I’m mad at myself, I should be able to control this stupid thing, but I can’t, and I was so mad that I could have hurt you without meaning to. I don’t know what to do Ivy.”

Luke rested his head on the side of the treehouse, shaking the branches only slightly and being careful not to apply too much pressure afraid he might knock the tree down, he only wanted to be nearer to her.

“I need you.” He whispered through his tears.

Ivy listened as the giant began to sound more and more like her brother, and he was hurting, he was saying mean things about himself, and she couldn’t let that happen. It was her job after all to be brave for him and look after him, no matter what size he was.

She carefully stood back up again, her chubby fingers gripping the window frame, she peered back out of the window and was confronted with a freckle covered wet cheek. Carefully she reached out a hand to touch the warm slick surface before her, his tears smelled of salt and she felt him stiffen beneath her touch.

Carefully Luke moved back to look at his sister, her brown hair hanging in bouncy spiraled curls about her face, just like his own if he allowed his to grow longer. He could see the tear stains on her own freckled cheeks, and he allowed more of his own to fall free, he hated seeing her hurt so much, and even more knowing it was he who had hurt her.

“I’m sorry I ran away.” Ivy’s small voice reached his ears, she was twisting her feet where she stood and looking at him bashfully like she was admitting to doing the wrong thing.

He shook his head. “No Ivy, you were right to run away, I was being dangerous and I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do something like that again, I promise.” He raised a large pinky finger towards the window, close enough for her to reach.

She eyed the large digit and quirked a small smile, accepting the pinky promise by tapping it with her own impossibly small pinky against his. He smiled in return and sniffled softly letting his hands drop back down to his lap.

“You’re not normal.” Ivy said quietly, she had been thinking about what Luke had said when he was kicking the trees away and wondering what words she could use to make him feel better, and she thought of just the right ones.

“Your special.”

Luke smiled a little brighter upon hearing his sister’s words, she had been faced with a dangerous giant for a brother who had scared her into hiding but just as quickly had forgiven him and was doing her best to make him feel better. It was working.

“C-can I have a hug?” He reached out a hand, holding his palm level with the door of the tree house, asking for permission to hold her.

She nodded her head quickly with a grin and skipped over to the door where her brother’s large hand was waiting patiently, she stepped on board, her bare feet tickling his palm causing it to twitch a little under her.

Ivy stretched her arms out wide as Luke raised her up to his cheek, she clutched his skin like it was her lifeline and he brought his other hand up to press her gently there, reciprocating the hug in their own special way.

Luke felt a wave of calm come over him and his skin began to itch, Ivy’s hands on his face started to grow as he began to shrink back down again. Not wanting to let her go while he shrank, he held her with both hands circling her waist until she was the right size in his arms again and with renewed vigor, he clutched her to his chest tightly.

“You’re the special one.” He said to her as he placed her back on the ground, relieved to be back to normal, well as normal as he could get.

“Luke are you okay?” His father’s voice tore him back to reality and he turned to see his mum and dad walking towards them.

His parents had caught up to them and had been watching from a distance, letting the two have their moment. Karly had assured her husband that Ivy was the right person this time to help their son and she had been right.

“Yeah Dad, I’m really sorry about-.” Luke had started to say before David cut them off, waving away the apology like it had already been forgiven, all he wanted now was to hold both his children safely and he did just that, pulling them both into a hug.

“Thank you.” Luke whispered, tears spilling anew, he should be in huge trouble right now, not only did he destroy their house, but he’d kicked the trees down and scared the horses away as well as ignoring his parents when they tried to stop him from following Ivy. His father should have been furious with him, but he was so grateful that he wasn’t.

“Let’s get you both back to bed and worry about all this tomorrow, yeah?” Karly had joined her family in the hug at some point and embraced them tightly before releasing them and ushering them back to the house.

Looking at both the hole in his own bedroom and his sister’s, Luke glanced at his parents, unsure where exactly they would sleep that night, what was left of the night anyway.

“Can we sleep with you!?” Ivy was bouncing with excitement, their parents had been working hard at getting Ivy to sleep in her own room as of late, the two adults exchanged a look before coming to the agreement.

“Yes, you can both sleep with us, but just for tonight.” Their father relented.

Ivy bounced ahead of them straight through the hole in the wall like it was nothing and made her way skipping all the way to their parents’ room.

Luke wrapped an arm around his mother’s waist, snuggling his head into her chest as they walked, he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to roll into bed with his family and sleep for a week.

Karly leant down and kissed the top of his head, holding her son close to her.

He was special, and she would make sure no matter how others treated him and no matter what things could possibly go wrong or were out of their control, that he would remain loved.

I’m not crying your crying! Poor Lukey baby, no more nightmares okay!

#gt #giant #gianttiny #tiny #g/t #giant/tiny #gtfluff #size shifter #Luke #angst with a happy ending #angst

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remixunderdacover · 11 months

Text

We should all have seen the shower trend now right? Right. So here’s a funny fic of a TMNT 2014 verse.

Raph X FemReader

Shower prank!

Mis spelled words

Curse words

This is a fantastic idea cuz you have a half a bucket of ice water and how is the plan to use it… on Raph. Ok let’s admit this can go wrong way to easy but your gonna do it anyways.

No ninja skills what so ever but that don’t stop ya no no no no. Slowly opening the door just a crack at a time cuz your not gonna try to get caught. Quick tippy toes on the floor for fear of the much pressure on the floor for to long will make it creek.

You crack the door a bit more sucking in so you don’t bump the door. FINALLY INSIDE! The steam from Raphs hot shower rolls to you and through the open door witch will also be later used as your quick escape room that’s literally thirteen feet from the shower.

Tippy toes tip to the side of the shower while you line the bucket up and… dang it your short. Why must you come this far into the bathroom when your just now realizing you need to be two feet taller to get the bucket over the top of the shower- wait… hold up…

Light bulb problem solved. All you need to do is shove it over and run. Looking over your shoulder just being the lucky bean you are there’s a step stool, ok here you go stepping on the step stool lining the ice water bucket up with the top of the shower your plan of this fun and easy prank that hopefully won’t backfire is now in motion.

One… two… *Quiet deep breath* three…

The water bucket flakes in making patter sound when it bounces off the shower floor followed by a laugh of a now topped iced turtle. "Ah ha" Raph laughed as you quickly and as quietly as you so while trying desperately not to laugh until you could be out of the bathroom.

The sound of the shower curtains opening followed by a laughing cold Raphael. "You little sh!t" Both of you laughing as you almost made it to the door Raphs arm grabbed your shirt jerking you to him then wrapping his arm around your waist lifting you up and pulling you in the shower with him.

"Raph wait no no no no no no I’ll be, I’ll be good I promise." You reached for his arm to keep you from the still running water. "To late for that short stack" Raph turned the water to cold.

"Ok wait I’ll clean your room or I’ll train with you!" Raph shook his head laughing. "Oh you’ll be training with me alright after you clean off." A yelp left you as Raph dipped you into the cold water like a dance move.

"Holy crap that’s cold!" You clung onto him with your now dripping wet cold hair and shirt. "Yeah karmas a b!tch ant it." That smirk played on his face like he just hit a home run on a baseball game.

#tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt fandom #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt 2014

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erin-bo-berin · 2 years

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hi could i have Steve×reader where they are having a make-out session and Robin ends up walking into the room and everyone is just embarrassed? literally happened to me and my boyfriend and now his parents keep teasing us all the time 😩

Omg are you good? Cause I would DIE of embarrassment. 😭

Robin would definitely be embarrassed but the least embarrassed and just be teasing them because she’d just be like well this is awkward.

But I had the thought that this happens at Family Video and you drop by before his and her shifts starts to see Steve and Robin is gone to get coffees for them down the street and whatever and a little fun happens 😋

Caught In The Act

Steve Harrington x Reader (ft. Robin)

Warnings: Kinda smut? Idk just a heated makeout sesh 😉 (for anyone who isn’t into it)

The bell on the door jangled as you walked into Family Video.

The attractive, dorky, loveable sweetheart that you got to call yours, was already behind the counter, doing something on the computer. When he glanced up, his entire demeanor changed from frustration to happiness.

“Hey, baby,” Steve smiled.

“Well, hello, handsome,” you teased, leaning your arms on the other side of the counter from him, “Where’s Robin?”

“At the coffee shop down the street getting us some coffee. Our shift doesn’t start for fifteen minutes and I’m going to need the caffeine for motivation,” Steve groaned.

“Well, I’ve got some time before I have to head over to my study group. I can keep you company while you wait,” you smiled.

“Get over here then.”

His grin was wicked as you walked around to the entrance behind the counter. He almost immediately pulled your body towards his and kissed you.

Your giggles permeated the kiss and you kept trying to pull away long enough to speak, but Steve kept chasing your lips, pulling you back into the kiss. You finally got a moment to speak when his lips nipped your jaw, then found a place to suck on, on the canvas of your neck.

“Steve,” you chuckled, “Robin will be back at any point.”

“So?” he hummed against your neck, “Plenty of time to enjoy my girl.”

You squealed when he lifted you, setting you on the countertop. Then he connected your lips again.

Your arms wound around his neck, mouth lazily enjoying his before he upped the ante, kissing you as if he hadn’t kissed you for months. His mouth moved briskly against yours, tongues exploring, together.

His palms rested against the tops of your thighs, squeezing them gently before gliding them up and around to grab your ass.

He was positioned between your legs and you were at his level now, by sitting on the counter. He was shamelessly groping your ass and you shamelessly tugged on his lower lip, bringing it gently between your teeth. You always knew it drove him wild.

He groaned in response, kissing you harder. If you weren’t in sight of the entrance, you were sure more explicit actions would be taking place.

You were so lost in him, fingers tangling in his hair at the back of his neck. Neither of you heard the tinkering of the bell on the front door or hear anyone enter. You were too focused on one another and lost to the kisses.

“Well, this is awkward.”

You and Steve sprung apart so fast you’d thought someone had told you both that the other had the Bubonic Plague. You spotted Robin standing in the doorway, holding two coffees in her hands, a smirk on her face.

Your entire body flamed with embarrassment and Steve had the decency to look sheepish, too.

“How about next time, you go get the coffee and I’ll stay out here making out with someone?” Robin was full on smirking and happy to tease the life out of you two.

You would be more than happy if the floor opened up and swallow you whole.

“How long have you been standing there?” Steve asked, trying to straighten his clothes, running a hand through his hair.

“Long enough to hear you moan,” she shuddered, “I might need both of these in hopes the caffeine will erase that memory.”

You dropped your face in your hands, face hot.

“By the way, hi Y/N,” Robin said casually, sliding the takeout cup of coffee across the counter to Steve, “Nice to see you on our counter.”

“Shit,” you mumbled, hopping down, “Sorry, I just came in to say hi—”

“I don’t recall ever getting a welcome like that from you,” she quipped.

Oh she was never letting you two live this down.

“He started it,” you pointed guiltily to Steve.

“Hey! Way to throw me under the bus,” he mumbled, though he grinned sideways at you.

“Remind me to sanitize the counter before we open,” Robin said, taking a sip of of her coffee.

“Okay, that is my cue to leave,” you said, eager to stop dying of embarrassment.

“It’s your fault if I have to work with horny Steve all afternoon!” she hollered after you, “That’s the worst!”

“Dude!” Steve exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“You limp around like an injured pony. It’s pathetic,” she laughed.

“Bye you two,” you laughed, waving behind you as you headed for the door.

“I’m not through with you by the way!” Steve called after you, “We’ll finish this later!”

You had to chuckle at Robin’s parting remark.

“When I’m not around, either!”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic

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roosterforme · 11 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to regret showing up for Noah's birthday party once you feel exactly how awkward things are between you and Bradley. But when you witness his jealousy and learn that his hurtful words were more lies than truth, you agree to at least hear him out.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

When Bradley managed to pull his head out of his ass long enough to invite you to Noah's birthday party, he hadn't anticipated what it would be like if you actually came. You texted him back on Friday, letting him know you would try to stop by. But now that he and Nat were setting everything up, Bradley was feeling anxious.

Every time a guest arrived, he poked his head outside to see if your car was there, only to be disappointed. He wanted to see you. That much was plainly evident now. But he wanted to do way more than that. He missed you so much.

"She'll be here," Nat told him as she held Noah. "There's no way she's going to be able to live with herself if she disappoints this little guy. Isn't that right, Noah? Now pout at your dad."

Bradley laughed as Noah and Nat both made sad, pouty faces at him. "You're right. Nobody could say no to that," Bradley said, blowing a raspberry on his son's neck until they were both laughing.

Jake strolled in with two six packs of beer and looked around. "Happy birthday, Noah. Where's your babysitter, little dude?"

Bradley rolled his eyes in response, and just as he was about to say he wasn't sure if you were even coming, you opened the front door and met Bradley's eyes right away.

"Hi," you said softly, your arms filled with gift bags and treats as you shifted everything around nervously.

"Princess," Bradley said before he could catch himself. His heart was pounding as you bit your glossy lip anxiously and turned your attention to Noah.

"Happy birthday!" As soon as you said those two words, you had Noah's full attention, and he squirmed to get out of Nat's arms and run to you. Bradley watched you kneel and set everything on the floor so Noah could hug you.

"See? He needs her here. And I don't think he's the only one," Nat whispered as she shoved Bradley toward you. But Jake was right there as well, and Bradley knew for a fact that Hangman was interested in you. He'd been not so subtly asking about you since he saw the photo of you on Bradley's phone at the Hard Deck. The photo of you wearing your purple crown.

"You must be the babysitter," Jake drawled with a grin as he approached you on the floor with Noah. He was looking down the front of your little dress, Bradley just knew it. And when you looked up at him with innocent eyes, nodding and introducing yourself, Bradley was on the verge of kicking Jake out of his house. Because it looked indecent, the way you were positioned and the way Jake was easing himself a little closer still.

Bradley cleared his throat loudly. "I'll just take these into the kitchen," he said, scooping up the gifts. And that's when he noticed you'd made a whole container of ants on logs wearing party hats made out of lettuce. Bradley wanted to throw you over his shoulder and take you to his room, make love to you, and never hurt you again. He met your eyes, kneeling just a foot away from you while Noah pawed at you.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked far less pleased when you were looking at Bradley than you did when you were looking at Noah or Jake. He deserved that. He knew he did. He was lucky you even decided to come today to make Noah happy.

Oh god, Bradley wanted to take back every horrible word he said to you, but he couldn't. The damage was done now, just as he had originally intended. And he had to watch as Jake helped you stand and run his fingers up your uninjured arm.

"Hi!" called two of the moms of Noah's daycare friends as they walked in with their own kids, taking Bradley's attention away from you. He greeted them and their children, and ended up adding even more gift bags to his arms.

Then Mav and Penny arrived. Bradley let Penny take his face in her hands and pat his cheeks, something he probably wouldn't let anyone else do to him. And then she kissed him and asked, "How's the dating thing working out for you?"

Bradley laughed sardonically. "I've pushed that to the back burner, Pen."

"Yeah. Mav told me that Meredith is giving you a hard time. If there's anything we can do...?"

"I appreciate it. I'll let you know."

When Bradley finally went into the kitchen to put Noah's snacks in the refrigerator and set down the gifts, he froze. You had already made your way in here. Your back was to him, and you were talking to Jake. Bradley could hear your laughter in response to something Jake said, and he had never been so jealous before. He was so used to coaxing that gorgeous sound from your lips himself. Those glossy lips that Jake was eyeing up, no doubt thinking about doing something dirty to them.

Bradley's breath caught in his throat as you turned to glance at him over your shoulder with a bland look. He was so used to your flirtatious smile and bright, wide eyes being focused on him. God, he had taken it all for granted, and now you couldn't stand him.

And if Bradley thought he had been jealous a moment ago when Jake made you laugh, it was nothing compared to the outrage he felt as he watched Jake touch your waist. He squeezed you gently, letting his fingers dig into the fabric of your floral dress. All of the gifts tumbled out of Bradley's hands and onto the table, and you sidestepped Jake's grubby little hand to turn and look at him.

"One of my gifts is fragile," you said with annoyance, rooting through the pile to make sure it was okay. But Bradley was looking at Jake, and Jake was looking right back at him before his eyes dipped down to your ass.

"Seresin. Let's go outside. Now," Bradley growled, pointing at the sliding glass door off the kitchen.

Jake's little smirk grew as he said, "Sure thing, Bradshaw," and headed out.

Bradley slid the door closed with a thud and rounded on Jake. "Don't touch her."

Jake laughed heartily. "You fucking her, Rooster? Damn, you must be. Or you were." He paused, and Bradley could feel his cheeks heating up. "Maybe it wasn't any good for her? Because right now, she's not looking at you at all, man."

Bradley ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and clenched his fists. "Don't touch her, and don't talk about her. Don't even fucking look at her."

But Jake just cocked his head. "Hey, that's some great advice. And here's some for you. If you have access to a hot little piece of ass like that, you don't keep her tucked away in your house. You show that off. Let everyone know about it. That's what I'd do."

"Jake. Just stop." Bradley was fuming now, and also annoyed that he was letting Hangman get under his skin. But Jake was right; Bradley should have been showing you off when he had the chance instead of going on dates with the women from the app. Maybe then you and he would be in a place where he could be bold enough to ask you to stay with him in spite of Meredith.

"Why should I? Are you dating her?"

Bradley closed his eyes for a beat and let out a puff of air. "No."

"If you don't want her, why can't I have her?"

Bradley shook his head. "I never said that."

You opened the sliding glass door and poked your head outside, and both men stood at attention for you. "The pizzas are here," you told Bradley. "Want me to pay the guy with the money behind the TV?"

Bradley cleared his throat and glared at Jake for a second. "I'll take care of it, Princess," he said, pausing in the doorway with you. He had missed being this close to you, close enough to smell wildflowers. Your expression was softer now, almost that of an injured animal. He wanted to apologize for hurting you, but he settled for letting his fingers trace your knuckles before he pulled out his wallet for the pizzas.

You didn't flinch. You didn't back away. But that look in your eye grew a little sadder, and Bradley knew he had put it there. "Princess," he whispered, softer this time, and your lips parted before you turned and walked away from him and outside to Jake.

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

You were a mess. You shouldn't have come to the birthday party. All you wanted was to see Noah and bring him some treats, but it was killing you to be around Bradley, pretending like you weren't crushed.

And the second you had let your guard down, Jake started flirting with you. Which was fine. It didn't really matter. He seemed sweet enough even though he kept cornering you in conversation every time you tried to talk to Penny. You did manage to sneak away as Nat waved you over. But you could tell by the sympathetic look in her eyes that she knew Bradley had basically dumped you.

"Hey, Natasha. It's nice to see you," you managed with a small smile.

"I'm really happy you came," she replied as Noah ran up to hug your leg before returning to his friends. He had been hanging out with you more than anyone else, really. "And clearly so is the birthday boy."

"Yeah, well... I'm kind of attached to him, sadly," you said with a forced laugh. Then you asked the question that had been on your mind since you arrived. The one you were afraid to hear the answer to. "Hey, is Meredith coming?"

Nat's eyes went wide and she almost dropped her slice of pizza. "Hell no. Why would Meredith be here? In fact, I would go so far as to say that if she decides to show up, I will drag her outside myself and make her leave."

You were gaping at her. "She and Bradley aren't... talking? About getting back together? For Noah?"

Now she really did drop her pizza right onto the hardwood floor. "Who told you that?!"

"Nobody."

Bradley had lied to you about Meredith. But why? What would be the point in that? And if he wanted to hurt you, then why did he invite you here today? Why was he looking at you like he missed you and calling you Princess instead of ignoring you?

You bent and used your napkin to wipe up the cheese and sauce, and when you stood, Nat looked like she was about to rage. Without another word, she took off in Bradley's direction leaving you with so many questions swirling around in your mind.

When you made your way back into the kitchen to throw the napkin away, you decided it would be a good idea for you to just sneak out the back door and head home. You once again felt drained and undesirable and disrespected. It didn't really matter how badly you wanted to be here for Noah if Bradley wasn't going to be honest with you about what was going on. You reached for the container of snacks for Noah and set it in the refrigerator, and then you turned to find Jake right behind you.

"Oh!" you gasped, jumping awkwardly. "I didn't know you were in here."

His smile was so charming, you could do nothing but smile back as he said, "Just came in for more pizza, but found something so much nicer instead." He touched your arm again, and you rolled your eyes.

"You're a shameless flirt," you informed him, as if he didn't know that already.

"What? You don't like that?" he asked, taking a step closer.

You matched his smirk with your own. "Maybe I like a guy who can be subtle sometimes."

"Hey, that sounds like my good friend Bradshaw," he said, running his thumb slowly up to your shoulder. "But maybe he's a little too subtle? A little too reserved? You deserve to be set right on a pedestal. All out in the open."

You laughed. You couldn't help it. This was absolutely ridiculous. "No, I think I would prefer a throne. Like a Princess. In a castle," you told him, thinking about all the castles you and Noah had built out of blocks while wearing your paper crowns. Thinking about the times you and Bradley had been so comfortable together, talking on his couch.

"Okay," Jake drawled. "I like where this is headed. And if Bradshaw doesn't want you, I definitely do, Princess."

You opened your mouth to tell him not to call you that, but he was already leaning in and kissing you.

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

Bradley saw red. He never really understood that expression before. It never made sense. Until right now. It felt and looked like all of the blood in his body was obscuring his vision. And all he wanted to do was make Jake Seresin hurt.

Jake's hands were on your face and neck, and his lips were pressed to yours. Right in the middle of Bradley's kitchen.

Bradley just got finished being reamed out by Nat for being the world's biggest dickhead, so he was already on edge. Already looking to apologize to you and hoping you'd listen to him. But the sight of Jake kissing you was just one step too far, and he wasn't going to let this fly.

With three swift steps, Bradley was right there, grabbing Jake by the shoulder and pulling him away from you. The startled look in your eyes, and the way you were still holding your arms tight to your sides had Bradley shoving Jake against the refrigerator.

"I warned you, Hangman," he growled, but Jake just smirked and licked his lips like he was savoring the way you tasted. The fact that he now also knew how nice your lipgloss was had Bradley seeing double.

"Bradley, it's okay. Stop." Your voice was soft, and then he could feel your hand on his back through his shirt. He turned away from Jake and focused his attention on you instead, unclenching his fists.

"Come with me, Princess." His voice was deep and raspy, and when he wrapped his arm around your waist, you spun away from him.

"Bradley!" you demanded, a little louder this time.

"Please?" he asked, and when he leaned down and kissed your forehead in front of anyone who might be looking, you let him take your hand and lead you into the bathroom. When he closed the door, you leaned back against it and bit your lip in silence.

"What the fuck are you doing to me, Princess?" Bradley asked, his tone pleading. "I can't even look at you, baby. I can't even smell you without hating myself even more."

"Good," you whispered as your gaze settled on his lips. "Where's Meredith?" you asked maliciously. "I haven't seen her all day."

He knew now that you and Nat had spoken. You knew he lied to you last weekend. "She's not coming, and you know it."

"Why did you lie to me about her?"

He swallowed hard. "Princess, I'm so sorry, I-"

"Why? I don't understand! And why do you suddenly care about me today? You told me I'm not right for you. You told me you needed someone better. You said you didn't want this." You gestured to yourself and looked away from him like you were ashamed.

Bradley gently guided your chin with his fingers until you were looking at him again. "I fucking lied about that, too. You're the only thing I want." He eased himself closer to you, desperate to feel your body against his.

You narrowed your eyes at him and pushed on his chest. "You can't keep doing this to me. Leave me alone, Bradley. I don't have time to mess around with you. I know how much you hated doing that with me."

"We weren't just messing around, Princess," he said softly as he backed away from you. He was silently begging you not to open the door and leave him as he swallowed hard. "It meant something to me."

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tilted your head back against the door. He watched your fingers grab at the hem of your dress as you looked at him reluctantly. "Bradley," you whispered. "It meant something to me, too." The anger was gone from your eyes now as you asked him, "Why did you try to hurt me like that on purpose? If you want me, why would you do that?"

"I'm just trying to protect you." He knew he was pleading, and he knew you deserved to hear everything. You also deserved a hell of a lot more than he could give you, and he didn't want to have an hour-long conversation with you in his bathroom during Noah's birthday party.

"Protect me?" you asked softly.

"Yeah. I just want to protect you," he whispered, running his fingers along your bandaged arm. "Will you let me touch you, Princess?"

You reached for his hand, and Bradley let you take the lead. When you linked your fingers through his and gave a little tug, he went willingly. You pulled him close until you and he were breathing the same air, and he could feel your body heat.

"Protect me from what?" you asked softly, and Bradley had to brace his other hand on the door next to your head as you kissed the edge of his lips softly. "I don't need you to protect me. I need you to appreciate me. Show me some respect. I'm not stupid."

His heart was pounding at the feel of your lips on his skin. "I know you're not stupid, baby. I'm the one who can't get his shit straight. Not you. I'll tell you everything," he promised, panting slightly. "I swear. Just stay. After everyone else leaves, please stay. Let me explain? Let me be good to you?"

Your eyes were alert, examining his face, trying to make sense of everything. When your tongue darted out to wet your lips, you said, "Okay. I'll stay. But you only get one chance, Bradley."

"I won't fuck it up. I promise. I've missed you so much."

This time you kissed him square on the lips, pulling him closer still by your linked fingers. The soft fabric of your dress was rubbing along his hand, and he knew he would give you anything you wanted. But he had to know, so he released your lips.

"Baby, what the hell were you doing with Jake?"

You paused before saying, "Just talking."

Bradley shook his head at you. "No. Your lips don't need to be touching his if you're just talking."

You sucked in a breath as he brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each finger. "He kissed me," you whispered. "He called me Princess."

"No," Bradley grunted. "I call you Princess. And he doesn't get to kiss you. Especially not in my house. Tell me I'm better."

Your eyes flashed with sudden need. "You're jealous."

He nodded and kissed your pinky. "You're goddamn right I'm fucking jealous." The softest smirk touched your lips before Bradley leaned in and kissed you. "Am I better than Jake?"

You were smiling now, your eyes wide. "I can't believe you're jealous over me."

Bradley growled. "Am I better?"

"You're better, Bradley."

He covered your lips with his while you rubbed your hand gently along his abs.

"You're such a good girl. Too good for Jake."

"Bradley!" you moaned as he kissed you again. He couldn't keep his lips off you now. This was all he wanted to do. Just kiss you. But he needed to get out of the bathroom before he did something stupid again.

"I know, baby," he whispered against your cheek. "We're gonna talk later. Let's go back out there. And you can tell Jake that you're not interested in him."

You laughed softly. "You want me to go tell him that I'm not interested in him? Because you're jealous?"

Bradley just nodded again. "You go tell him, Princess. Now. And then later on we can talk more."

"Okay, fine," you whispered smugly, and Bradley opened the bathroom door. He watched you walk on slightly unsteady legs as you made your way toward Jake in the living room. Every couple seconds, you smirked back over your shoulder, and Bradley silently urged you on.

Jake eyed you up and down and then met Bradley's eyes as you spoke to him. He looked annoyed now. Bradley felt elated.

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

Bradley was jealous! He had lied to you about everything, and now he was jealous that you were giving Jake attention. This day was turning out so much better than you thought it was going to.

You took a deep breath, looked at Jake and said, "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression earlier, but I'm not interested in you. Not like that."

"Huh," Jake grunted. "Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed, Princess."

It sounded so wrong, hearing that nickname from anyone other than Bradley and Noah. "Please, don't call me that."

Jake's smirk, which was kind of cute an hour ago, was grating on your nerves now. You wanted Bradley to haul you back to the bathroom again, or better yet, his bed. His handsome face was all you could think about as you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye.

"You know, Bradshaw's alright," Jake drawled, and you turned back to him. "Just the slowest one to make his move on a girl. Don't wait around on him if you want more. He has more baggage weighing him down than anyone I've ever-"

You immediately cut him off. "Don't talk about Noah like that."

"Whoa," he said, chuckling and holding his hands up in surrender. "That's not what I meant. I mean the emotional kind. He's been through a lot. It slows him down, makes him hesitate. That's all I'm saying."

"Well thank you for your concern," you replied sarcastically. "But I think they are both worth the wait." You turned toward Bradley where he was talking to one of the daycare moms, and when you walked past him, you let your fingers trail along his lower back. He turned, and the look he gave you almost made your steps falter as you made your way into the kitchen.

If Bradley and Meredith weren't trying to work things out, if there was another reason why he tried to break things off with you, then you'd figure things out with him. And you wouldn't rush him. Because he couldn't stay away from you, and you couldn't stay away from him either. And you didn't want to have to try to fight it.

"Help me get the cake ready?" Nat asked when she saw you.

"Sure," you replied, opening up disposable plates and getting four candles ready for Noah. You had to keep biting your lip at the memory of kissing Bradley in the bathroom. You were distracted, and Nat must have asked you something.

"I'm sorry, what?"

She just shook her head. "I know Bradley is an idiot, but please, give him another chance. And you should stay away from Jake."

Had everyone seen him kiss you before? "I wasn't trying to-"

"When Bradley settles down, it will be for life. Meredith definitely stunted his ability to commit, but that fact still remains. Jake's got a different method, if you know what I'm saying. Not one to commit to a hairstyle, let alone a woman. So don't listen to him. Now, can you carry the birthday cake out to the living room?"

You just nodded slowly at her words and took the cake to Noah while Nat lit the candles. The room was full of people, and there were so many voices singing to Noah while Bradley stood next to you with his son in his arms. But it felt like just the three of you. Just like all the other times in Bradley's living room and kitchen. His deep voice warmed you everywhere as his fingers stroked up your spine when Noah blew out the candles.

"Did you make a wish?" you asked, and Noah's exaggerated nodding made you laugh. "I'm sure it will come true."

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

Bradley kept glancing your way as you and Noah opened up one of his new toys to play with on the living room couch. You liked his eyes on you. You liked his attention. You liked knowing he was jealous earlier.

"You want me to make you some coffee, Princess?" he asked, popping back into the living room as you and Noah raced cars across the floor.

"No, we're busy," you told him with a smirk, looking up at him. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning up with Nat and Penny?"

He took a step closer and said, "I just want to make sure you're not leaving yet?"

You shook your head. "You asked me to stay. I told you I'll stay."

Bradley grunted and went back into the kitchen, and a few minutes later, Penny and Pete came out. "You ready to go, kiddo?" Penny asked Noah. "You're coming with us for a sleepover." Noah looked up at her from his spot on your lap before he turned around to wrap his arms around your neck.

"That sounds like fun, Noah!" you told him, giving him a squeeze back. You were going to miss him so much. You'd already been missing him like crazy after just a week without him. Hopefully Bradley would help you make sense of things, because you didn't want to have to keep missing him or his son.

Noah gave you a kiss, and then Bradley handed Penny an overnight bag and scooped Noah up in a hug. "I love you. Be good for Penny and Mav." And then they were gone, and Bradley was looking at you on the floor in front of him.

Nat poked her head out of the kitchen as Bradley reached down to help you up with hopeful eyes. "How do you want me to wrap up the rest of this cake?" she asked, holding up a roll of aluminum foil. Then she looked between the two of you, and you stepped away from Bradley as she asked, "Wait, it's just the three of us left? Wrap up the cake yourself," she said, tossing the roll to Bradley and grabbing her bag. "Bye."

You watched Nat breeze out the front door without a backward glance. "What was that all about?" you asked, suddenly very aware that you were now alone with him.

He laughed softly. "She wants me to finish talking to you. Now, apparently."

"Well then, talk," you said, taking another step away from him toward the kitchen. "And don't make me cry again. If you do, I'm leaving."

He looked a little panicked, which made you feel like you were completely in control of things for once. He followed you cautiously as you went to investigate how much of the cake was left. Just when you turned toward him to reach for the roll of foil, Bradley set it on the counter and shook his head.

"I can take care of that later, Princess," he mumbled, caging you in against the counter and kissing you softly.

You moaned and reached for him immediately, kissing him back, he was still so sweet, and even less demanding than he had been in the bathroom. But then you jerked back, bracing your hands on his forearms.

"What's going on, Bradley? You're still all over the place. Tell me everything," you demanded, your volume rising with each sentence as he looked abashed. "Nat spilled the beans about Meredith. Then you told me you lied to me. You got jealous about Jake. But you sent me away in tears a week ago. Just...what the fuck?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have never said those things to you last weekend. I didn't mean a single word of it. I was just trying to protect you."

"You keep saying that!" you complained, pushing on his forearms until he let you move away from him. "But you're not saying anything at all." You ran your fingers along your bandaged arm. "And I already got hurt."

"Princess." Bradley followed you across the kitchen to the table, but you pushed on his chest and shook your head.

"Do not make me regret staying here right now," you whispered, and he took a deep breath. "Don't make me regret kissing you in the bathroom."

He stood up straight and ran his hands through his hair. His lips looked pouty and kissable. His cheeks were flushed like they had been earlier. But you were going to stand your ground with him.

When he didn't say anything, you pressed harder. "Talk to me." You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and looked at you intently, but he still said nothing. "I'm leaving."

"No!" gasped, reaching for you again, pulling you closer. You were going to protest again, but then he whispered, "I need you."

"For what, Bradley?"

His voice sounded soft, almost defeated as he told you, "Meredith wants custody of Noah."

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

Come on, jealous Daddy! Tell Princess everything! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 16

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ghoultrifle · 4 months

Note

Just read the pissboy phantom fic (which was great) and if you’re up for it, i’d love to see you expand more on Phantom’s idea of taking Rain (or whoever) out to water the plants.

Pissboy Chronicles Part 4 - (Soil) Enrichment Time

WC: 1.7k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Phantom takes Aether out to water the plants

Notes: It's piss, don't read it if it's gonna squick you out :) and to anon, I'm so sorry it's been over two months I hope you enjoy it >:)

CWs: PISS, humiliation, mentions of rope play, semi-public sex (masturbation)

Thank you to @herbal-quintessence for bullying me into finishing this and @mac-and-thefox for giving me all her plant knowledge !! fuck it @high-imperatrix piss tag

Read below the cut or on AO3

Phantom stands back to admire his handiwork. Aether, limbs tied to the bedposts, deep blue rope leaving raw marks on his lilac skin. A tale told through the abandoned wand and the streaks of white adorning his hairy chest.

“So good for me, baby,” Phantom says as he strokes a hand through Aether’s slicked back hair, “Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

Aether whines at the cold cloth being run down his torso, rivulets of the water running down to his spent dick, making him shiver. Sat on the bed, Phantom offers him a glass of water, “Aeth, you lost a lot of fluid. Fuck that was hot, seeing you all sticky ‘n sweaty, but you need to replenish.”

The first glass of water disappears almost instantly, sessions with Phantom really take it out of an older ghoul. The second glass he sips on while the younger ghoul cleans him up, quickly finishing that too. A third and fourth glass make their way past Aether’s lips and before he knows it, he needs to piss, badly. Phantom won’t deny it was his plan all along, he easily notices the telltale signs - squirming, clenching, rocking back and forth. It’s tantalising for the young ghoul. He wordlessly takes Aether’s hand and prompts the larger ghoul to start walking with him. Unfortunately for Aether, he thinks Phantom is still in aftercare-mode, simply helping his sore lover to the bathroom. That is until Phantom reaches the exit to the abbey, “Colour?” he asks. Aeth stumbles over his words, unsure where this is going. But with full trust in Phantom, he gives green.

The walk to the greenhouse is short, there’s no reason it should take the larger ghoul so long to hobble over. If anyone saw him, he’d have no excuse for his pained limp as he clutches his dick through his jeans. They’d see him, escorted by a smirking Phantom, small hands around Aether’s hips, guiding him. The older ghoul unable to think or walk straight, the overwhelming pressure dulling every other sensation.

“Can’t have you all filled up for nothing, Aeth,” he exclaims, “And don’t the plants look so dry. Like they’re begging to be watered, no?”

Aether shudders, the persistent ache in his bladder crying out for relief. It would be so easy to let go, to do as Phantom bids, but he can’t give in this easily. The plants do look dry; soil matted in thick clumps, dejected leaves laying their heads in defeat.

His dick lies bare in Phantom’s dainty hand, fighting the urge to relax. The soil on the floor is disturbed as Aether leg fidgets in desperation, willing himself to hold onto the last morsel control. The younger ghoul behind him can tell it’s getting too much, that Aether’s close to losing it.

“Let go, big boy, I’m right there with you.”

Aether strains, mind given up but his body still fighting, “‘m trying, Ant, just can’t get it out!” he whines in frustration, everything is telling him this is not the place to do it, screaming at him to find a bathroom.

Phantom hushes him, “S’alright. Here let me help you out,” he coos as he snakes a hand around Aether, fingers dipping into the bulge in his belly, draining the pressure.

“Hng fuck- it’s coming!”

“That’s it, good boy,” the younger ghoul asserts, taking Aether’s length in his free hand. It’s definitely a little chubbier than usual, a little more solid to the touch. It’s reassuring to know Aether’s also getting off on it despite his apprehension. Phantom will never not be impressed by the all-round size of Aether’s cock, not only a decent length, but strikingly girthy, enough to split Phantom open if the other wasn’t so careful in prepping him. Not that Aether tops often, but when he does he’s a gentle lover.

Aether is fully leaking now, all barriers down. Phantom holds him, guides his stream over the plants. First, the lavender, watching as the liquid drips down the buds one by one, collecting in a pool where it’s potted. The younger ghoul then directs Aether’s cock towards Mountain’s beloved foxglove plant, piss welling up in the bells before they tip over, showering the soil beneath in Aether’s shame. “Look at you, filthy thing, defiling poor Mountain’s plants with your piss.” Phantom smirks, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the bees never came back after what you’ve done to their home, you should be ashamed of yourself Aether.” Not that the older ghoul needs any encouragement to feel that deep-seated sense of shame that gets him hard like nothing else, but it helps.

The wires in his brain are most certainly crossed now, there is no going back. Relinquishing control, being vulnerable for Phantom like this has Aether’s cock kicking in the younger ghoul’s hand as his stream tapers off. Just as he’s beginning to relax, finally nearing the end of Phantom’s bidding, the younger ghoul stuffs Aether’s dick back into his boxers with such urgency that his stream is still strong enough to make it look like he’s wet himself. Aether’s always had a humiliation kink, that’s not news, but combining it with the mortifying ordeal of pissing over the plants and himself has his cock straining against his now wet boxers.

“Shit, Ant. What was that for?” he whines, “Was pissing all over the greenhouse not enough? Needed me to piss myself as well?!” There’s no bite to it, Aether knows Phantom can feel him chubbing up at the sensation of the warm, damp fabric against him, clinging to his dick. The last few drops are soaking into his pants as Aether feels a flood of warmth on his back, “Wha-”

“Shh Aeth, just enjoy it,” Phantom whispers as he dips his length further beneath the waistband of Aether’s boxers, revelling in his own release, in finally letting go of the desperation he tried his best to hide. And by the bewildered sounds from the ghoul in front of him, he thinks it worked. Bewilderment turns into arousal as what?!’s turn into hhnn’s.

“You know clothes are my weak spot, Aeth.” he says, grinning, “Need everyone to see just how easily you submit to me, need there to be evidence of it.” The pattering of droplets on the stone ground only fuels Phantom’s fire, ensuring no part of Aether’s trousers remain dry. Upon finishing, the younger ghoul neatly tucks himself back into his jeans, leaving Aether to marinate in the cocktail of their piss.

The walk of shame back to Aether’s room leaves him hanging his head as he contemplates which stain is more important to hide - front or back - both inflicted by Phantom. He settles on removing his sweater and tying it around his waist. There’s no rest for the wicked, however, when the younger ghoul insists they sit on a bench next to Sunny’s allotment. That Aether must sit down as is, get his tan sweater drenched in shame too.

It was easy enough to miss it on his trousers, the dark fabric masking just how wet they are, but since Aeth decided he can’t have anyone seeing, Phantom is hell-bent on making sure everyone knows just how much of a pissboy the older ghoul is. To see the usually calm and stoic ghoul in this state, taken apart by his master and forced to waddle in his soggy clothes like a misbehaved dog who’s rolled in the mud.

Aether would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying every second he spent with Phantom. Being teased, chastised for his pliability. “Putty in my hands,” the younger ghoul whispers as they’re sitting, waiting for the piss to soak into the sweater too. He gets off on the debasement of it all, especially at the hands of such a new summon, a ghoul he should be barking orders at, not the other way around. All Aether can do is whimper in reply, too far gone into submission to do anything else. He’s rock hard at the realisation that everyone will see him, hips rocking up just to get some friction on his trousers.

“Go on, I know you need to, I’ll watch,” Phantom says sweetly, placing a hand on Aether’s crotch, hearing the squelch as he scrunches his hand in the fabric. Aether moans, more loudly than he should, watching as the younger ghoul removes his hand and flicks the remaining piss right back onto Aether. He feels himself twitch as Phantom treats him like a mere towel to wipe his hands on, nothing more than an object.

“What are you waiting for, Aeth? Scared someone will see?” Aether can only spit out a small mhm before Phantom interrupts, “Come on darling, you’re so worked up it’ll be over quickly anyway. You’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

The older ghoul groans, reaching down to unbuckle his belt, shimmying his trousers down just enough to free his dick, but not so far that he can’t still revel in the humiliating sensation of wetness enveloping him. His cock is heavy in his hand, red at the tip, waiting to be stroked. In the corner of his eye he can see Phantom palming himself at the sight and it pushes Aether to start stroking. He tries to set a steady pace but his hand takes over as he watches it fly over his ruddy cock, smearing pre down the shaft. He’s hooked on the feel of his palm against the warm liquid on his shaft, listening to the slick noises as he strokes himself with fervour. It can’t be more than thirty seconds before it’s more than pre spurting from his cock. Aether’s head is thrown back, moaning with abandon, eyes screwed shut as he adds to the mess he and Phantom have already made.

He opens his eyes to find a dishevelled Phantom with a wet spot on his jeans that definitely wasn’t there before. “Hey! Don’t think you have the moral high ground just because you’re hot,” Phantom shouts, “You know this is my dream, Aeth, just take the compliment and wipe that fucking grin off your face before I piss on you again.” And Aether wouldn’t be complaining, but that’s for another time. For now, Phantom will gently walk him back to the dorms, smirking at their bandmates who give him a knowing look. Rain takes particular note, proud of his little pissboy.

#trifle writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #aether ghoul #piss tag #pissboys #cw piss #spicy tag #phantom/aether #aether/phantom #the band ghost fanfiction

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wereh0gz · 6 months

Text

Frigid - Oneshot

A thing I started a long LONG time ago that I never finished until today. Woe Dark Sonic be upon ye. Also Sonic and Tails brother momence <3

Word count: 2,488

It was supposed to be simple.

It was a routine thing. Eggman would begin causing a fuss, building some new factory somewhere and kidnapping critters to power his machines, Sonic would come and stop him. Sometimes his plans would go farther than that, much, much farther, but things were simple today. Just shut down the factory and save the animals.

Sonic was confident he could make quick work of Eggman today, especially since Tails was there to assist him. In fact, they were quickly able to shut down most of its operations, before the hordes of robots cornered them and led them deep, deep inside the factory.

Things went south faster than Sonic expected.

The two found themselves in a ginormous chamber, an arena of sorts, in which a behemoth of a mech sat, motionless. Eggman sat inside, a sinister smile on his face.

He brandished the Chaos Emeralds, boasting about acquiring them before Sonic. He had to admit, that was a smart move on Eggman's part. Laying low and snatching the powerful gems without his usual theatrics and gloating about his plans for takeover.

Sonic was sure he could still beat him, though. He always did. Tails, on the other hand, was much less confident. He cautioned Sonic, told him to think carefully before he attacked.

But they didn't have the time.

Eggman had placed each of the Emeralds into designated slots inside the mech. It lurched, coming to life as the Emeralds power ran through it. It stood up, towering high before the two heroes. Sonic rushed towards it, ready to bring it down. Tails followed.

They swiftly and skillfully dodged its barrage of missiles and lasers, avoiding its heavy metal feet as Eggman tried to crush them like ants under its massive weight.

They managed to land a few hits, make it stagger, but there wasn't so much as a single scratch on the thing. As time went on, its attacks became harder to avoid. There's so much, Sonic has a hard time keeping up.

"Sonic, look out!" Tails cried.

He barely gets a chance to react before he's shoved aside by the young fox. He hears a yelp as Tails is knocked back and hits the cold, metal floor. Hard.

Everything becomes a blur.

Sonic hurried to his little brother's side as he lay there, eyes closed, unmoving. The fur on his chest was scorched from the laser that hit him. As he tried to lift him up and get him to safety, Sonic noticed red smeared on Tails' head. Blood.

Time seemed to slow at the sight of Tails' injuries. Sonic felt his heart nearly stop, his blood running cold.

Eggman cackles. He gloats, mocking them, reveling in the fox's fall.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Sonic runs out of Eggman's line of sight, hiding behind one of the many pillars scattered throughout the room, supporting the ceiling. He gently placed Tails down, leaning against the pillar. His hands shook, blood boiling and rage bubbling in his chest.

He hurt Tails.

Sonic turns to face Eggman.

Suddenly, the heat of his burning anger, his panic and fear… disappears. His racing heart slows.

He breathes in slowly, and though his mind is racing...

He feels calm.

He looks up to the cockpit, staring Eggman in the eyes, face blank, expressionless.

Looking into his eyes, Eggman knew he'd crossed a line. And Sonic wouldn't spare him any mercy.

In a flash, he ran towards the giant mech, aiming straight for the cockpit, not holding back.

He jumps, homing in on the incoming missiles, launching himself at them one by one and forging a path through the air leading directly to Eggman.

He lands hit after hit on the glass shield separating him from the madman, causing the giant mech to stagger and stumble backwards. Each time he hits with more force, pushing himself further, punching harder. And yet, his assault barely causes any damage.

Energy sparks around him, the Chaos Emeralds reacting to Sonic relentless attack. Eggman yells out, cursing the hedgehog as an alarm blares inside the machine. But Sonic doesn't hear him.

He continues, homing attack after homing attack, punching and kicking with all his might, until a metal hand finally manages to swat him away, launching him far back into a metal wall. He falls to his knees.

Sonic felt the energy of the Emeralds flow into him, despite them being held in the giant machine. He called out to them, reached out to them subconsciously. Their power filled him, but instead of feeling the warm, golden force that turned him into Super Sonic, he felt something different.

Something dark, heavy, cold.

In the blink of an eye, Sonic appeared before Eggman, energy oozing off his quills like ink. White, empty eyes stared up at him, sending chills down his spine.

Before he could attack, Sonic disappeared.

The mech fell mere moments after.

Its metal crumpled under the hedgehog's brutal attacks, a deafening cacophony of clangs and bangs resounding. Dents and cracks formed on its shell, yet Sonic remained completely unseen, as he moved too fast for Eggman's eyes to follow.

The glass shatters. Sonic hovers over Eggman, his fur and quills having turned as dark as night and skin as pale and white as a phantom. The air grew frigid around him, frost creeping onto the remaining shards of glass on the cockpit. Tears slip down his cheeks and rise of his skin, frozen drops floating around him, twinkling like stars in the cold air. Yet his face was not one of sadness, but of precision, of cold, calculated rage.

The Emeralds rip themselves out of the mech, drawn to Sonic. They circle around him, their beautiful glow slowly becoming dark and dull as they drain the air around them of light and warmth. Sonic raises his hands over his head, black energy crackling in his palms.

"S-Sonic, wait-!" Eggman stammered, voice filled with terror as he attempted to squirm his way out of the pile of scrap that was once his mech. "It doesn't have to end like this! I-I'll turn over a new leaf, I swear!" He begged.

But his empty words fell upon deaf ears.

The mad energy forms into a giant orb over Sonic's head, a black hole of pure Chaos.

Just as he's about to let the energy blast Eggman into oblivion, Sonic hears a small groan. He turns to see a set of two fluffy tails behind the pillar, twitching as their owner weakly lifted himself off the ground.

"Ngh… Sonic?" Tails cried out weakly, pressing his hand onto his head.

The energy dissipates, the Emeralds slowly drop to the ground one by one, and Sonic descends.

Tails looked past the pillar, his eyes landing on Sonic, and the great destruction he had caused. He froze, eyes wide with shock.

"You… beat him? How did you…"

Sonic began walking towards the fox.

"Sonic? W-what's going on? Are you okay? Where’s Eggman?"

He stopped right in front of Tails, looking down at him, face devoid of expression. The air around him was so cold his breath turned to mist as it leaves his lungs. Tails shivered.

"S-Sonic…?"

Sonic knelt down and reached out a hand towards Tails's head. He flinched.

Without saying a word, Sonic wiped away some of the blood that had begun to dry on Tails's fur. His hand was frigid, the sheer cold could be felt through the fabric of his gloves. Yet, despite the cold, despite how rigid he was, Tails knew he just wanted to comfort him. He knew it was okay.

He closed his eyes and leaned into his hand. The cold eased the aching of his head, if only slightly.

Still silent, Sonic gently pulled his little brother into a hug. Tails noticed how, slowly but surely, the dark energy that stained his fur slipped off of him, and it gradually turned back to its usual cobalt. His skin remained pale, though, and he felt cold as ice to the touch.

Tails looked past Sonic's shoulder, at the giant heap of scrap. Eggman was nowhere to be seen, surely having retreated while Sonic's attention was off him. The Emeralds had disappeared, too. Either he took them with him, or they scattered after being used by Sonic. Whichever it was, it didn't matter much right now.

"Good Gaia, you're freezing…" Tails commented, but Sonic didn't respond. "C'mon, let's get going."

His grip on the fox loosened slightly.

"Sonic?" Tails gently patted his shoulder, but, again, there was no response.

Suddenly, Sonic's body slumped, slipping off of that embrace and falling limp onto the floor with a hard thud. Tails cried his name, but his voice was distant.

As he fell into the deep depths of unconsciousness, Sonic began to feel warm again.

Tails watched Sonic's unconscious form lying unmoving on his bed, watching his chest just barely rise and fall as he took in shallow breaths. Electrodes clung to the fur on his chest and head, connected by small wires to Tails' computer. The whirring of a space heater pointed towards Sonic broke the deafening silence of the room.

The hedgehog hadn't moved an inch in the past few hours, not since he fell unconscious, not even as he was carried back home, nor when his frostbitten limbs were bandaged.

Tails looked at the computer screen. It displayed multiple graphics, showing Sonic's vital signs and Chaos Energy levels. His temperature was still dangerously low, and hasn't improved much during his slumber. His heart rate was far slower than it should be, too, barely strong enough to keep him alive. The Chaos Energy in his body had been almost completely drained, and what little remained was negative.

It was a miracle he was still breathing.

Tails reached for Sonic's bandaged hand from under the warm blankets he'd been wrapped in. It was still and rigid, and fairly cold, yet not as much as it was before. His condition was improving, barely, but the improvement was far too little and came too slowly for his comfort.

"It doesn't make any sense…" Tails muttered, watching Sonic's sleeping face as he gently rubbed his older brother's hand, trying to bring it some warmth. "Your temperature should've normalized by now… why aren't you getting better?"

Sonic didn't answer.

Still holding his hand, Tails looked back at the computer screen. Nothing had changed, except his temperature rising ever so slightly.

He didn't know what else to do. He could take him to a hospital, but what could the doctors do that he hadn’t already tried? Plus, he wouldn’t want Sonic to wake up in a dreary hospital room. He knew how much his brother hated those places.

Tails sighed, before an idea popped into his head. He pushed himself up the bed, lying down and curling up beside him. He nuzzled his face near Sonic's cheek and let his tails rest over his blanket, just like they used to as kids. Except Sonic didn't return the gesture, remaining cold and unmoving.

Tails closed his eyes. He needed rest as well, and he wasn't going to get it by sitting there and watching Sonic sleep all day, wallowing in anxiety and letting his thoughts wander to places he didn't want to go.

He took a deep breath, and let himself relax. He'd be fine. He always bounces back, no matter what gets thrown at him. He just needed to have faith in him. Like he always did.

Suddenly, Sonic began to stir.

"Mnh…"

The fox shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide. "Sonic? Sonic, wake up!" he cried, gently shaking him.

Sonic grumbles, brows furrowing as he slowly turned his head away.

"Sonic, please…"

Sonic groaned. His entire body felt heavy, stiff, and…

Chaos almighty, he'd never felt hotter in his life.

Sonic tried to lift himself up and pushed the blankets off of him, startling Tails.

"Wait, Sonic, what're you–?"

"'S hot…" he mumbled.

"Wh- wait, no! Don't do that!" Tails frantically tried wrapping the blankets around him again. Sonic struggled, but he had no strength to fight back. "Sonic! You're still freezing!"

"Whuh…?" Sonic stared at Tails blearily as the fox pulled the blankets back over his shoulders.

"You're hypothermic, Sonic," Tails reiterated, “Feeling warm is actually a symptom of severe hypothermia.”

He could see the gears turning beyond his unfocused, half-closed eyes.

He sighed, before turning back to look at the computer.

Sonic's heart rate had gotten faster, and he was starting to see a notable increase in his temperature as well. That's good.

"Where… are we…?" Sonic muttered.

"We're back home. The mission was a total bust," Tails explained. "Do you remember what happened?"

Sonic stared for a moment, his mind still hazy. He shook his head. "Not much."

"I see…"

"Are you okay?" Sonic asked, looking at Tails' now bandaged head, "You, uh, hit your head pretty hard back there."

"Oh, I'm fine!" he brushed it off, like Sonic often did. "You should be worried about yourself! You nearly died taking on that weird, dark Super form!"

"Eh, what else is new…" he shrugged, not fully registering the last part of that sentence, "... Wait, dark- what...?"

Tails recalls the inky black energy that coated Sonic, and the frigid cold, the way the light and life was drained from the air around him.

"Yeah, it was like… the opposite of your Super form," he said, "Dark and cold. You were all quiet, and angry, and crying."

"... Huh." Sonic looks down at his hands, aching and covered in bandages, as he tries to think back. But everything is such a blur. All he really remembers is the heavy feeling and the frigid cold.

He rubs his eyes, unable to shake the tiredness that still fogged his mind.

"Well, it's all…" he yawned, interrupting himself, "... all over now, so… man I'm tired…"

Tails looked back at the monitors. His temperature was much closer to a normal range now. Still a bit low, but healthy. His Chaos Energy levels are still quite low, though, but he knows it'll take a long time for that to get back to normal. He would survive.

"We can… figure that out later. You wanna go back to sleep?" Tails asks as he reaches over to shut off the space heater.

"Mhm…" Sonic nodded, absently scratching at the electrodes stuck to his fur.

"You can take those off now, too."

"Oh, thank Chaos, finally." He ripped them off as quickly as he could, before lying back down and rolling onto his side, getting nice and comfy. Tails lies down, too, cuddling up to his older brother, who no longer felt like a stiff, frigid corpse.

"G'night bud…" Sonic mumbled into the pillow.

Tails smiled. "Good night, Sonic."

The two closed their eyes, Tails' fluffy tails resting over both as they drift off to deep sleep.

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #fanfic #sonic fanfic #fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #dark sonic #dr eggman #☆my writing☆#based mostly on my hcs abt dark sonic :]#yippeeee!!

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jhynka · 1 year

Text

- from here on out

part 1 part 2 part 3

genre: fluff, angst with and without comfort, series

pairing: suguru niragi x reader

sypnosis: you enter the borderlands with your 4-year-old son, Hotaru, the only goal you have is to find your husband and brother except who knows how they've changed and what they've done while you were gone.

CW: unedited

AN: hello hello!!!! another fic back at you again (two fics in two days?? Impossible!) anyway here's a fic where chishiya is ur brother , you're married to niragi and you both have a son named hotaru! now its GUARANTEED that you will get a part 2 since i already have it and i just need to polish it. anyway yuh hope you enjoyyy happy reading!

Entering the borderlands with your 4-year-old son wasn't easy. The both of you were at the pediatrician for his regular checkups while your husband was outside waiting with your take-outs. Birds chirped outside the hospital window with the amazing sight of Shibuya down below, citizens resembled little ants of differing colors, walking diagonally across the streets and collecting together in small groups at entrances of establishments.

The doctor spoke while measuring Hotaru’s height, “How are you these days Mrs.Niragi?’ she said still focused on the tiny numbers on the scale, smiling at your son. “Hotaru grew 3 inches since his last appointment! he's growing quite fast for his age, also starting to look a bit more like his father.” she teased, turning to face you as you gaze out the window.

You look back at her and Hotaru. “We’ve been great lately, Hotaru’s getting straight A’s at school, my husband recently got promoted, and my brother is about to graduate med school! Thankfully, everything just seems to have fit into place for the family.’ You replied, reminiscing on the past few weeks with a smile.

Your smile didn't last for long however, a glowing object suddenly appeared in the sky, causing the three of you in the room to acknowledge it. It grew larger and larger in the sky till you realized it was a missile-like object. Fireworks appeared confusing all of you. The three of you panicked and ran to the lower floors for protection. A loud bang was all that was heard until it was just a black void of darkness. You could only hope your family was safe and sound.

You awoke as Hotaru shook your body for any sign of life. Your surroundings were silent, eerie, and covered with the scent of gasoline in the air. “Mommy, Mommy! Everyone’s gone, I cant find Daddy or the doctor!” Hotaru said crying. You cupped his cheeks and assured him that everything would be alright.

The both of you walked around the abandoned, wrecked streets, trying to find another human being, and trying to escape. Eventually, a middle-aged man came running toward the two of you, his face planted with fright.

“Woman, it's not safe for you and your son here. Take these, the Beach will find a use for these when you get there. You both will be safe there. There's no time left for me.” the man said, handing you a few playing cards. Two of hearts, 4 of clubs, 7 of spades, and 6 of diamonds. He ran away again but stopped when a red laser from the sky shot him dead middle. The traumatizing sight for both of you sent shivers down your spine.

The two of you found a building with electricity and entered, still wondering what ‘the Beach’ was or where it is. You saw a small group of people, all of them looking like they know each other.

“Hello,” You said weakly. “do you guys know where everyone went?”. They all looked at you with pity, a woman in sunglasses couldn't even bother.

“A child,” A young girl with dreadlocks approached you. “I’m Kuina, I didn't know a child could be transported into the borderlands. Did you just arrive?” You nodded in response. The conversation was interrupted by a speaker suddenly bursting at full volume, with water suddenly cascading around you.

GAME RESGESTRATION CLOSED. THERE ARE NINE PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME IS ABOUT TO COMMENCE. DIFFICULTY: 4 OF DIAMONDS. GAME: LIGHT BULB.

The speaker continued to explain the rules of the game set before you. The words went from one ear to the other with the panic you felt, yet you only understood that you just have to figure out which switch opened the bulb inside the smaller room in the setting. The water flowed in quicker, causing you to have to carry Hotaru.

“I have an idea.” you blurted shakily. “Since we can only try one switch while the door is open, lets test a random one now. If it doesn't turn on, let's close the door and open another one for a while, then we touch the bulb for heat to see if it is switched on or not. If it's hot, then the answer is the switch we just pulled. If it's cold, then the answer is the final remaining switch.” You explained in a hurry, wanting to get out of the drowning water around you.

The 7 other people executed the plan successfully, leaving all but one woman who touched the wire on her own alive. Hotaru clung to you for safety, being frightened by the sharp wires around him. Kuina helped both of you exit, and offered you a ride to a sanctuary together with the rest of the players.

In the car, the other players introduced themselves kindly, except for the woman in the sunglasses called ‘An’ by the players.

“My name is YN Niragi, it's a pleasure to meet you all,” You said, “Hotaru, introduce yourself to the others” you guided your son in a whisper. “Hello, I’m Hotaru Niragi, I'm happy to meet you all.” He said blankly, tired of everything he’s been through for the day.

“Niragi?” An questioned, looking at Tatta and Kuina with glances you aren't sure what the meanings are. “You must be married I assume? If so, what's your maiden name?” She followed, looking at the front mirror to see you.

“Yes, I am. My name used to be Chishiya, why do you ask?” You said, with your head still low. An glanced at the Kuina and Tatta who had frightened faces, and Arisu who remained confused and quiet. “Things are going to get juicy at the Beach.” she replied smugly.

You arrived at a resort still holding onto your son, the only family you seem to have left. Kuina stayed with you, bringing you to someone she said ‘you might want to meet’. The three of you walked to the back of the resort, overhearing party music and people shouting from the inside, Hotaru was about to fall asleep when you see someone in the distance. Your brother?

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moosemonstrous · 5 months

Text

Inspired by @cicada-candy's brilliant comic 🥰 surround sound screaming coming later down the timeline tho 😶‍🌫️

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - foreign substance detected

He is… running. He has no idea where to, only that he has to keep going, the rage in his chest writing over the pain in his useless right arm. The corridor is familiar – it’s the hangar access. Robbie walked it for the first time, or the first time he can remember, only–

It feels like only a few hours ago, but time seems stretchy, inconsistent. He turns to aim a shot over his shoulder, hits one of the pursuing men square in the face – pure luck, Robbie isn’t left-handed, he’s never even held a gun before, why does he have a gun? Why are they chasing him? Doesn’t matter, he has to– he has to get to The Charger.

A sequence skips; he’s in the elevator up to the Conn-Pod. (What? There is no elevator, only stairs.) He can barely stand, blood pooling on the floor at his feet. Just a few more seconds. The pain is unbearable and he screams, kicks at the wall and that just makes it worse – he didn’t even realise he got hit in the thigh, too. He feels his eyes water, squeezes them shut just for a second – he’s not going to cry. No time to be a baby about a couple of scratches.

Opening the hatch is a two-arm job. That’s going to hurt. He throws his pistol down the walkway, hears it scatter away as more and more shouts join his pursuers. The techs will be trying to disconnect the power from the cockpit – but he’s faster than them, he’s done it a hundred times now. The whole set-up is still in place, still sizzling with the demon’s blood. Nobody had the balls to try and clean it up yet. All the better. Saves him having to hot-wire Pons into his spinal clamp.

Activating drift sequence, the AI drones. His HUD is cracked, covered in the black goo. Pilot One absent. Abort–

“Override code six-zero-zero-two-eight-five,” he barks. His voice is different, deeper. Older.

Override authorised. Relay gel deployed. Thank-fucking-God he didn’t bother doffing the drivesuit. Of all the things to be buried in–

No. He’s not going to die here. Engaging emergency connection protocol. Pilot confirm: yes/no. “Yes, damn it!” Stand by. Emergency connection in three, two, one–

Something drips on his face from the crack in the helmet. It’s not relay gel. The demon blood burns on contact. Beto’s arms will be–

Nothing. They won’t be anything, anymore. The drift feels like a vice around his temples without someone to share the load – Robbie thinks he might be screaming, but it doesn’t matter. He’s got control. When he lifts his arm, The Charger moves with him – and down on the people coming up the walkway. Soldiers, techs, it doesn’t matter. He has a date with the LOCCENT overlook, and it doesn’t matter how many fuckers he will have to crush to get there, to get to–

The burn spreads over the whole right side of his face, sharp and blinding. Doesn’t matter. The concrete cracks under The Charger’s feet when he steps forward, but the reactor is tripping up, making his movements stutter on relay. “Reactor status,” he calls out.

Foreign substance detected in the reactor core, the AI supplies in its stupid monotone. It sounds even slower than usual. Urgent maintenance recommended. Power levels at six percent.

Shit. He’s not going far then.

Doesn’t matter. Six percent is plenty to charge the shoulder cannon. He might not get to feel Ivanov’s spine snap in his jaeger’s hand, but he sure as hell will melt it as a second choice.

Shoulder cannon deployed. Confirm target.

He nearly misses it, the tiniest of movements from this high – ants crawling through the quarters access, and amongst them that stupid little suit. It’s too late to move, but he has enough power for two more shots, and it’s not like Rasmussen and the rest of the cunts on the bridge crew don’t have their own coming, either–

The Charger is unstable, the right leg damaged. It wobbles from the kickback. Robbie has to put his spine into remaining upright, nobody to balance him, but the top of the dome is now just a smoking ruin and falling debris. More and more parts light up in red on the HUD. Fuck this. He’s getting revenge if he has to tear the whole base apart. He survived this far. He’s not going to die here.

“Full power to shoulder cannon,” he commands, and turns The Charger to aim at the wall, towards the living quarters. The joints creak like they’re about to break apart.

Request denied.

“What?! Override code–“

Request denied. Message incoming.

“Cancel! Full power to cannon, now!”

Request–

The AI fizzles out, tripping over the q several times before going dead. His HUD flickers, like it wasn’t hard enough to see through the demon blood, fucking useless–

“Robbie!”

What? The pressure in his temples spikes dramatically. Blood pours down from his nose, and he tastes copper at the back of his throat. It doesn’t matter. He screams, forcing The Charger another step along, then another. He will get there, he will get that cannon working, he will drop it on those fucking traitors if that’s what it takes–

“Robbie-Robbie, wake up!”

Gabe.

Robbie sits up in the bed – no, a cot, where the hell is he? Medical. He’s in medical, he was– fuck, he can’t catch his breath, but that doesn’t matter. Gabe has his hands clasped around his ears, and he’s crying, and what the hell was that about?

You tell me.

“Gabe,” he rasps. There’s someone– a nurse. She’s got both hands on the back of Gabe’s chair, ready to wheel him out. “Gabe, what–?”

“Loud,” his brother sobs. “You screamed loud, I hate loud noises, are you okay?”

“I think Robbie needs a minute,” the nurse says, but Gabe releases his ears to grab Robbie’s half-outstretched arm.

“No, stay! Robbie, are you–“

“I’m okay,” he squeezes Gabe’s hand. His heart is pounding like he just ran a mile, but he has to keep it together – Gabe is calming down, his thumb running up and down Robbie’s, but he still looks a little shaky. He lets Robbie gather him up in a hug. “I’m okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I shouted.”

“We’ll see about okay,” the nurse mutters. Robbie scowls at her over his brother’s head. “You really need to stop moving, Mr Reyes, your neck is–“

There’s still a brace around his neck. Through the haze of the weird – weird – nightmare, Robbie remembers how impossible it felt to move last time he was awake. The doctor said healing will take a few days… but he feels fine. Maybe they were overreacting. “I feel better. What time is it?”

“Time for you to lie back down, now!”

Gabe doesn’t let go of his hand. Robbie is grateful the nurse doesn’t make him, even when it makes it a little awkward to get around the cot to check the readings on the cot’s panel. She’s pretty good at describing what she’s doing, too – have they been doing it for a while? How long was he out, this time? Shouldn’t Gabe be–

“Quit it,” the nurse threatens cheerfully when the soft beeping of the oximeter picks up in speed. “Deep breaths. Your readings are fine, I suppose you had a nightmare?”

“…Yeah.”

“Bad dreams are the worst,” Gabe squeezes his hand again. “Was it about the demon?”

Uh, no. Rude twerp.

Robbie swallows. “Yeah. Just a bad dream.”

#ghost rider pacific rim au #robbie reyes #eli morrow #hello gabe how do i shield you from trauma #yes he should be in school no robbie it's not your priority right now

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