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#'where ya going? to the kitchen? to the kitchen for treats??'
televinita · 1 year
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I know it's only because she lives in eternal hope of Treats, but absolutely obsessed by the way that EVERY time my husband gets up from his desk or the bed and leaves the room, if our cat is awake she immediately jumps to her feet and goes trotting after him, glued to his heels like the world's most loyal dog.
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writersdrug · 13 days
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bartender ghost who takes one of your tables who was argumentative and rude after you begged and bargained with him (he only caved when you said you’d ask soap)
Omg he'd totally think he could make you work for it too - you come up grumbling how table three is being so rude and they sent the food back twice, and they're treating you like you spat on your food or something.
"They'd be much nicer if you took them." You say, leaning over the bar.
"An' why's that?" He replies, pouring the contents of a shaker into a salt-rimmed glass.
"You look like you could set them straight."
"'N that's a good thing?"
"You're not afraid to be mean!"
"You jus' smacked the life out of four uni kids last week."
You huff, dropping your forehead against the bar. "You're mean..."
"Y' jus' said I was."
"Pretty please?" You beg, looking up at him. Simon has to steel his gaze to the shaker, pouring liquor and bitters and ingredients into it as he refuses to look at you. You got him last time with this trick - he'd caved like a tower of cards. But now, he's prepared. His eyes don't meet your pout (or your breasts pushing up against the bar), instead focusing on the drink before him.
"Not happenin." He says, shaking the drink with a strong arm. "This is your job, remember?"
You sigh and give up the act. "You can't even say anything to them?"
"Like wot?"
"Like- I dunno, just go as them 'is everythin' ok?' Like you do, you know, all scary."
He chuckles. "Ya got t' stand up for yourself, luv. Can't fight your battles."
You groan in defeat just as Soap pops out from the kitchen, placing two plates of food in front of you. "Got tae bring out yer own scran, Bonnie - 'm not yer food runner."
"Johnny!" You exclaim before he can disappear back into the kitchen. He gives you a quizzical look.
"Could you bring it to the table for me?"
Simon stops pouring the drinks, frozen in his spot.
"I jus' said nae!!"
"Please? They're being assholes about the food-"
"Oi, lower your voice." Simon barks, and you shoot him an apologetic wince.
"They're gonna complain about the food again if you don't talk to them yourself."
"Bullshit, I'm not doin' tha'."
Ghost smirked behind his mask. Taught Johnny well.
"I'll give you half of their tip."
Soap paused. "Nae, gimme the shot where ye slap me after."
"Deal!"
"No- no deal-" Simon growled, putting his drinks on the bar. He's not letting you drench Soap in water and slap him across the face, because he knows the lad will be more turned on than a lightswitch. "Fuckin' animals you two." He grabs the plates, and glares down at you. "'M not doin' this for you again."
"I won't ask again - promise." You giggle, and he wants to be mad at you, he wants to hate the sound... but he'd make a fool out of himself a thousand times, over and over, just like this, to see you looking up at him with that smile - you know you've got him wrapped around your finger, he fears, grumbling as he goes to have a chat with the bothersome table.
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earthtooz · 1 year
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fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou
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during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.
the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.
“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.
your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.
“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.
“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.
“were ya waitin’ for me?”
you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”
“almost nine.”
“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”
his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”
“it’s okay, i get it.”
“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.
“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“
“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”
bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-
“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.
when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.
but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.
and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.
bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.
he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.
if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.
you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.
the second time, you wake up confused.
the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.
you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.
then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.
"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.
next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.
you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.
"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"
"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.
"promise me you'll never do this again."
cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"
"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."
you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."
he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."
"that's not realistic."
"watch me."
"okay then, deal."
there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.
(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.
you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.
you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.
you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.
you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)
the third time, you cry too.
it's your wedding day.
when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.
it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.
up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.
more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.
thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.
a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.
"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."
you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.
"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.
"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.
"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."
"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"
"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."
"i didn't know you could be a poet."
"only for you."
"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."
"i'll always be yours."
you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."
"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."
"your tears are dangerous."
"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."
"like i said, i can't wait."
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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opiopal · 2 months
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imagine the brothers constantly going and trying to bribe MC into doing stuff with/for them.
the anti lucifer league trying to pull a prank and want MC to help? they better offer something REAL good in return for MC's lies.
Mammon needs help covering up one of his schemes? he better be ready to buy them a treat for it.
literally anything that would get MC in trouble needs a bribe for them to agree to it.
eventually it starts overlapping and a small argument breaks out in the HOL because they all got in trouble with lucifer.
mammon: WHAT! who told ya!?
mc: guilty
everyone stops and turns to Mc, they all stare until Mc shrugs and explains.
mc: well.. at first asmo offered to take me shopping in exchange for taking pictires of him during RAD for devilgram, which at first sounded nice but then belphie and satan offered to take me anywhere I wanted in exchange for texting lucifer that something was wrong so then he would panic and rush into a trap set by them, which I was gonna refuse cause it was a little vauge, then levi offered to buy me any game I wanted to keep me from telling lucifer that he knocked over a candle while chasing mammon which got wax everywhere on a rug, before I could even decide what I wanted Beel offered to take me to hells kitchen to not tell lucifer that he ate a hole in the wall while sleeping, then mammon asked me to cover for where he was at the night previous since he was at the casino and offered to buy me anything, which I was gonna agree but then Lucifer took me to buy me an exclusive cake to tell him everything thats been going on.
mammon: YOU RATTED US OUT FOR CAKE??
levi: jeez what you, beel?
mc shrugs: hey at least he bought me the cake before asking me to do something for him, thats on all of you
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 months
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The Husband Effect
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Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...
Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)
Word Count: 2,200ish
Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff
A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!
__________
“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”
“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”
“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”
“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.
“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”
“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.
“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.
“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”
“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”
“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.
“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”
“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”
“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”
“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”
“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.
“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.
“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”
“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.
“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”
“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”
“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”
“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.
“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. 
“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.
“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.
“Please hurry Sam.”
One Week Later
“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”
“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”
“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.
“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”
“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”
“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”
“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said. 
“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”
“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.
“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.
“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”
“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”
“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away. 
“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”
“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”
“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”
“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”
“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.
“I promise, Y/N.”
“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.
“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.
“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”
“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean. 
“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.
“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.
“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”
“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”
“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”
“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”
“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”
“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“
“I do feel loved,” said Dean.
“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.
“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”
“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.
“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”
“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.
“Cool with it?” you asked.
“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”
“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.
“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.
“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”
One Year Later
“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day. 
“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”
“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”
“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.
“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.
“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”
“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”
“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”
“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.
“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.
“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”
“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.
“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.
“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”
“You got something special planned?” you asked.
“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”
“You read my mind.”
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yopossum · 26 days
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JOEL SAT ON ME AND I CONSIDERED IT AN HONOR AND A PRIVILEGE
My contribution for @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits On You challenge is complete!!
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Main Masterlist
Married!Joel x wife reader - M - 18+ only, weight gain talk and appreciation, drunkenness, Joel is a big ol love bug who wants to squish his perfect wife (you)
Snug
You were curled up in your old green tufted armchair, had just finished a chapter of your book, and were debating making another cup of tea when the tell-tale squeak of the front steps accompanied by heavy footsteps and drunken muttering alerted you to your husband’s return.
“Mmm, gotta… fix… ‘s not safe… gonna… gonna get hurt… not my baby…. Ah shit… where’s my…. ‘S still unlocked?”
With an aggressive jiggle of the knob, Joel came crashing into the house, stumbling over the toes of his boots and looking up bashfully.
“Hey handsome,” you smirked. “Have fun with Tommy?”
“Not ‘s much fun as I have with my beautiful wife,” he slurred, pointing a wobbling finger your direction. “Thas you, baby.”
“Thanks for the reminder, Joel,” you laughed. “You two had a bit to drink, it sounds like.” You set your book down on the coffee table alongside your empty mug and stretched your arms up to the ceiling, yawning.
“Jus’ a few, darlin’. Missed you too much, had to come home t’ ya. Need t’ see you. Alllllllll the time. Thas how much I wanna look atcha.” The booze stretched his twang out, slowed his speech, words sloshing and swinging from his lazy tongue like it was a porch rocker on a hot summer day. It wasn’t often Joel let himself relax, and it was a treat when he got loose like this.
God, you adored him.
“You hungry, babe?” you asked your bumbling hunk. “I left you a plate in the microwave in case all you two had was whiskey and peanuts.”
Joel groaned appreciatively. “Fuuuck, honey. How d’ya always know jus’ what I need? What’d I ever do t’ deserve you, hm? Funny, so damn smart, so kind, you’re gorgeous. Smell good. Perfect fuckin’ pussy…”
“Go get your dinner, Romeo,” you cut him off with a snort. With an over-the-top wink, Joel sauntered into the kitchen. You watched him go with a grin, admiring (honestly, ogling) the delicious way his jeans hugged him and the flex of his broad back under the snug green plaid shirt he favored.
A few years in, and marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed over all a happier person. The only drawback, to him, seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. Regular meals, fewer hours out at the job site, more time spent enjoying life’s small pleasures. Add in plain old aging, and some body changes were inevitable. God knows you’d had plenty of them yourself.
You knew Joel was a little sensitive about his pants fitting a bit tighter, the buttons of his ancient flannels straining slightly more than they used to over the swell of his belly. But where these changes made Joel frown at his reflection when he caught himself in the mirror before a shower, or sigh when he had to punch a new hole in his single belt, they had no negative effect on you whatsoever.
To your husband’s surprise, you were ravenous for his softening body. Your hands often found their way to his pockets to palm his plump ass through the denim, to the hem of his shirt to stroke the round warm underside of his stomach, to pat and squeeze his thick thighs. When he came inside you each night (and most mornings) and tried to hover over himself your body to kiss you after finishing, you often yanked him down on top of you, relishing the crushing weight of your husband enveloping your form like the world’s sexiest, most affectionate weighted blanket.
You couldn’t get enough of him, so having more Joel to love? A blessing. And when he loped back into the living room, his plate heaped with the dinner you’d made earlier, wearing a smile wide and dopey, you were happy that the most hardworking, self-sacrificing man you’d ever known entrusted you with his comfort.
He plopped onto the sofa, a little harder than he probably meant to, and sat his plate on the end of the coffee table nearest to you.
“Looks so good, sugar, you’re amazin’. Fuckin’ girl of my dreams. And you *married me*! Wow. Wowwwww.” The tips of Joel’s ears and the rounds of his cheeks were peony pink, his eyes glassy with both drink and adoration. He took a forkful of the pasta and vegetables from his plate and opened his mouth around it with a moan. “Baby, mmmmfff, Jesus,” he mumbled through chews, eyes closing in ecstasy as he ate.
“Sober Joel is going to be mortified when I tell him about Drunk Joel’s table manners,” you snickered. You unfolded your legs and reached a foot towards the couch, poking at him in the side with your pointed toes.
“Naw,” he said with a dramatic shake of his head, swallowing his bite. You couldn’t help but track the way his Adam’s apple slid along his tan, taut throat, and despite his hazy state, he clocked it immediately. “Y’aren’t gonna tell that asshole anythin’. Jus’ our little secret, sweetheart.” He licked his lips, tongue poking into the corner to catch a spot of sauce that lingered in his mustache. “I’ll make it worth your while, promise this Joel knows ‘xactly whatcha like,” he hummed, eyes gleaming and dimple pitting deep in his rosy cheek.
“I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re drunk, Miller, if that’s what you’re getting at.” You cackled when he scowled, sticking out his lower lip in a nearly-irresistible pout.
“But what if I want to real bad, Miller?” he huffed, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “I’ll letcha have your way with me any damn day, honey, please. I’m achin’ for ya.” His eyebrows curled up in a pitiful plea, his big brown sad puppy dog eyes in full force.
You leaned forward in your chair, planting your feet on the ground. “I’ll have my way with you when you’re not plastered, I swear.” Joel dropped his head in disappointment, whining.
“Jus’ love you so much…” he murmured at the floor. “Wanna show you… take such good care ‘a me, make me feel so good… best wife of every wife, give me the best life…”
Your heart was full to burst. “Come here, you big sentimental sap,” you said, sitting back and opening your arms to your pathetically endearing enormous drunken husband.
Rather than walk, Joel slid from the couch cushions to the floor with a thud and proceeded to crawl on his hands and knees across the rug, stopping at your feet and looking up at you sheepishly through long dark lashes.
You gestured to your lap. “Up.”
Joel clambered from the ground, dropping himself solidly into the cradle of your body (eliciting a breathy OOF as he knocked the wind from your lungs) and curling up like a pillbug against your chest. The chair creaked in fruitless protest. You struggled to catch your breath and adjust your legs underneath him, but managed to encourage his head into the crook of your neck so you could nuzzle into his soft silvered curls, press kisses to the lines across his forehead. Your arms didn’t fit all the way around him, but you snuck them in at his waist and ran your thumbs back and forth along the meat of his hips.
Joel burrowed his face into the space above your collarbone, nudging his nose up against your throat and humming softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the dip there. “Thas’ real nice. Love you s‘much,” he buzzed into your warm skin. Your ribs couldn’t quite expand enough to take your regular breaths without effort, and numbness was prickling your thighs and asscheeks, but you made no effort to move.
“‘M not hurtin’ you, honey, am I?” Joel’s quiet voice was already honeying over with the pull of slumber. His breath slowed and evened, inching its way toward soft snores.
“Not at all, sleepyhead,” you assured him, whispering warmly into the smooth shell of his ear, giving it a gentle nibble before laying your cheek against the top of his head. “You’re perfect.”
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witchthewriter · 7 months
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Poly141! | Mission Pixie Dust
Okay so... I was making up scenarios in my head as I was falling asleep last night and I made myself cry ... so I obviously had to share...
Poly141; the four men are your husbands and all deployed at the same time, leaving you home with your three kids at the beginning of the school holidays.
This turned out longer than I thought it would but I just had to write it out. I love Poly141 AND them being dads :')
Da = Johnny
Papa = John P.
Dad= Simon
Daddy = Kyle
School holidays had just started, and your three pups were buzzing as soon as they came home. Bags were thrown on the floor, school shoes unlaced and scattered around the shoe stand. They knew the rules, but first day of school holidays meant they were allowed to get a little wild.
Your oldest, Paesha, had just turned eight and her father was obvious. Thick curls, dark skin and warm brown eyes made it plain to see. But all your husbands loved her the same. In fact, she had a special bond with her Da (Johnny).
Malachai, your second, could have been any of the three other men's. Light brown hair, fair complection, and utterly/overly protective of his sisters. He had been born a year after Pae.
And your youngest, Felicity (known as Flick), had started her first year in big school. She was known for having exceptional blue eyes.
None of your husbands wanted a DNA test, they thought it useless because everyone treats the children with the same love, compassion and warmth.
Throwing your keys on the counter (Paesha picked them up and placed them on the hook). You rubbed the bridge of your nose and tried to quell the longing in your soul. You didn't know if it was worse when the kids were gone or with you. Being completely alone let the terrible thoughts attack but you didn't want your kids to miss out on having their fathers'.
Calming the oncoming tears, you turned around and asked, "who wants pizza for dinner?"
"YES!" Yelled Mal, a fist punched in the air. Paesha nodded her head enthusiastically while Flick did a little happy dance.
Paesha halted and squinted at you, "Not homemade right?"
After dinner arrived, the four of you sat on the large dark green couch. Your two ex-military dogs, Moth and Teddy, sat on either end of the lounge.
Turning onto the streaming service, you found the exact movie you were looking for. The 2003 version of Peter Pan.
With the lights off (except for the kitchen, the kids were still scared of too much darkness), you watched as one of your cats jumped into Pae's lap. Barnaby started purring instantly. His fluffy white tail settled around his body.
The seven of you settled in. Your four human babies snuggled up to their mama, smiles already on their faces.
When the movie had finished, your kids still wouldn't go to bed.
"Oh wait, I know why it isn't working - we don't have the pixie dust!" Flick pulled on your sleeve with a huge gap-toothed smile.
You had been watching as they jumped around the room. Lights flicked on, bodies flinging from one couch to another.
"I know! But ... we don't have any in the house..." You grumbled.
Paesha was staring dreamily at Peter Pan, a cheek resting against her face. "Where do we get some?" Her head turned slightly to look at you, her eyes nearly heart-shaped.
"Ugh-" god trying to keep childlike wonder alive was bloody difficult. Like a sign from the Universe, your phone started to ring.
All three kids ran over to it, knowing exactly who was calling at this time of night. Swiping the screen, four familiar faces popped up.
"Da! Papa! Dad! Daddy!" Smiling through the screen, the men had been just as eager to see their kids as their kids were to see them.
"Hello little munchkins, ya been good for mum?" Simon greeted first. His mask was off and no black could be found around his eyes. He never showed that side to the children.
"We're going to fly!" Flick chirped, her arms outstretched and running around.
"You're - what?" Price said with a slightly panicked face.
"But we need pixie dust," Malachai explained. Shaking his head like this was obvious information.
"I introduced them to the ... live action Peter Pan," you explained and a smile of regret grew on your tired face.
"Oh honey," Kyle replied, understanding the situation. He was the first of the men to.
"But we don't have any and we have to go buy more!" Pae said while leaning against you.
"Eh, pixie dust ...?" you heard Johnny mumble in the background.
"Oh! I have an idea!" You said with a faked expression, "why don't the Dada's get us the pixie dust!"
The chorus of cheers was heard throughout the house. Alerting the the tired Moth and Teddy.
Kyle shook his head. And Price's nose flared. Mum: 1 - Dads: 0.
"We'll bring back the goddamns finest," Simon said. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
"See! You heard Dad! Now get your butts' upstairs and in bed."
"Yes ma'am!" They said in unison (a nickname they'd heard their father's use one too many times.)
Once the kids were upstairs, your face dropped.
"I miss you guys," you whispered into the phone. The tears welling and spilling down your cheeks.
"We miss you too," John said, his words strangled with his feelings.
It was always hard to hang up.
It hurt.
But tonight's farewell felt like the hardest. You could just imagine how the scenario would've played out if their father's were there with them. With you.
'Can't always get what we want,' you thought bitterly.
"Not long now," Kyle said. You stared at his eyes and then his lips. God how much you wanted to kiss him.
"You better make sure you bring back some fucking pixie dust or there'll be a riot."
"Aye, Laswell definitely knows someone-" Johnny replied, giving you a wink. "Miss you gorgeous." He always tried to uplift the mood. And it nearly always worked.
You fought out of your misery, knowing the four soldiers couldn't bear to see you upset. And as they said their goodbyes, you said so in return.
"We love you, our precious wife. We'll all be together soon."
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I'm gonna throw up rn thinking about work tomorrow 🤪
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zablife · 3 months
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I'll Never Learn
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Benny Cross x gf reader
Benny Cross Masterlist
Summary: Benny's always taking off without warning so Kathy advises you to break up with him and move on with your life. When he returns from his latest trip, you have a decision to make.
Warnings: physical argument (Benny would never hurt you, don't worry), angst with a fluffy ending
The evening shadows were creeping over the houses along your quiet street, reminding you another day had passed without a word from Benny. You stubbed out your cigarette before turning to face another dinner for one in front of the television. By now the familiarity of the routine had almost numbed you to the aching loneliness, but not quite.
Just when you thought you'd forgotten him, there were always little reminders of Benny somewhere, like the back of the kitchen drawer when you searched for a spatula this morning. You'd sobbed over a matchbox from the bar where you'd met Benny, fingertips lingering over the raised print as Kathy passed you the mixing bowl along with some well-meaning advice.
"I hate to say it, honey, but he's not worth it. I mean, he's out there doin' God knows what. Should be here with you once in awhile, right? With all you do for him," she shook her head, indicating toward the pots and pans.
"Find a man who's gonna treat ya right. It's the least ya deserve after puttin' up with this nonsense for a year," she said, patting your hand sympathetically.
You allowed the memory to float away with the lingering smoke, fingers closing around the edge of the front door when you heard it. The unmistakable rumble of an engine rattling the glass in the windows and the fragile heart you were trying so desperately to heal. Taking a deep breath to quell the ache in your chest, you found a flame of rage catching fire instead of the passion that you used to feel upon his return.
Whipping around to face your boyfriend, you found him at the steps, staring up at you with a sheepish grin.
"I'm home, baby," he announced softly, waiting for you to fall into his arms. Those faded baby blues trained on you in hopes of forgiveness you'd given so many times before, but this time you couldn't, the words Kathy had said hours earlier ringing in your ears.
"Benny, don't," you warned him, holding up your hand to stop him from giving whatever bullshit excuse was going to tumble from his lips next. Leaving him standing on the porch with a look of confusion creasing his brow, you stormed inside to gather your things.
His hesitation only lasted a moment before taking the stairs two at a time to run after you into the house. As his foot collided with your suitcase, his voice swelled with urgency, your name echoing off the walls. Bewildered at the sight, he uttered, "You're leavin'?"
"I can't do this anymore Benny," you informed him, hands crossed over your chest as you stared blankly at the floor.
"Do what?" he asked mindlessly, only catching on when your gaze shifted to the door. "You're mad cause I took a ride?" he asked incredulously. "Johnny asked me to--" he began defensively, but you weren't in the mood.
"While I'm here?" you shouted, the frustration building inside you as he stepped closer.
"Where else would you be, darlin'?" he asked with a nervous laugh, never having seen you like this before. He was on edge, unsure how to take this sudden turn in your behavior.
Blood now boiling after his flippant response, you looked up at him with fire in your eyes.
"I'm always here waiting for you to come back" you fumed, throwing up your hands as you added "....or not." Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you willed them not to fall as you explained, "I need somethin' more. I want you home from now on."
There it was, the ultimatum you'd been afraid to give before. After all, you weren't married, but if he wanted you in his life, this was how it would have to be.
Benny stood so still, you could scarcely tell if he was breathing. He blinked back at you slowly, nostrils flaring as he growled, "You can't tell a man somethin' like that. Look at Betty. She don't tell Johnny what to do!"
"Well I'm not Betty!" you retorted.
"You sure ain't," he seemed to agree, breathing out a heavy sigh as he turned away.
"You're an asshole," you seethed, pacing to the kitchen. "Kathy was right, you don't appreciate me and you never have."
Catching sight of the chocolate cake you decorated with little cherries on top, something inside you snapped.
"You don't care about anything!" Without another word, you reached for the cake plate at your elbow and threw it against the wall. Flinching as it shattered, Benny's hands grasped your shoulders to keep your arm from reaching the stack of plates next to it.
As you struggled, you fell to your knees, dangerously close to the broken shards that glistened under the fluorescent lighting. Benny pulled you up as you hissed out a warning.
"Get off me," you spat through clenched teeth, a look of fury in your eyes, but his muscular arms had already encircled you. Thrashing against him, you bucked and kicked at him, but he was too strong for you.
"Stop fightin' me," he barked, backing you away from the shattered glass to the adjacent wall. You couldn't hear anything except the sound of rushing blood in your ears and your own labored breathing as he pinned you against the peeling wallpaper. His right knee wedged between your legs and his hip dug into yours as he brought your arms above your head to immobilize you.
Your heart slammed against your ribcage, close enough for the reverberations to carry through to Benny. It was then he truly saw the pain beneath your eyes as hot, heavy tears collected along your lash line.
"Baby...baby, please, don't," he pleaded, face pinched in anguish. For a moment you thought a tear might trickle down his cheek as well.
"Is this wh-what we are now?" you asked with quivering lip. "Two people who can't even talk to each other without a fight?"
He drew in a deep breath to steady himself, head shaking softly before he could find the words to reassure you. Then his voice rumbled up from his chest in the soothing way you knew and loved.
"We're not like that and we never will be," he promised, eyes piercing into your soul with such earnestness, you ceased all movement under him.
Relinquishing the tight grasp he held on your wrists, he rocked back, allowing you to drop your hands to your sides as he cast his eyes downward.
"Kathy was right, you know, I don't deserve you," he said, voice dripping with guilt. He reached out slowly for your left hand, sliding his fingers between yours as he admitted, "You're too precious for a man like me."
"Oh, Benny," you sighed, chin tilted toward the ceiling tiles. He could be charming when he wanted to be and that had always been your downfall.
"But Kathy don't know anything about the way I love you." He murmured, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand reverently. "You mean everything to me and I'm gonna show you." His touch was so gentle, you could have closed your eyes and slumbered there in peace, forgetful of all the days before, yet something deep inside still tugged at you.
"I want to believe you, but you make it so hard sometimes," you admitted, chewing your bottom lip nervously. He tilted his head to listen carefully as you poured your heart out to him.
"You don't know what it's like to worry day and night if I'm ever gonna see you again. And I don't know if it's because you're hurt or in jail or..." you stopped to swallow the lump in your throat "or if you just don't love me anymore."
He ran a hand through your hair, large palm resting at the nape of your neck as he nodded in understanding. "M so sorry I ever made you think that."
You fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket as he said something you hadn't expected to hear. "That's over now, alright? No more."
"What did you say?" you exclaimed, eyes shooting up to meet his.
"No more takin' off. I want to be here with you. If you'll stay too?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at your suitcase with trepidation.
Your eyes followed his to the bag, staring for a long moment as you considered your decision. However, if you were honest with yourself, you'd already made up your mind. "I'll never learn," you muttered under your breath.
"Is that a yes?" he asked hopefully, leaning into your gentle nod to steal a kiss.
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ellatoone7 · 6 months
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Comfort in Chaos
Alexia’s favourite girls series
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Alexia picks the pieces up after a fight
“Isabella Maria Putellas get down here right now!” You had told your daughter countless of times to put her dirty plate into the dishwasher and yet you are looking at said plate. Emilia and Alexia send each other curious looks from where they are lounging on the couch. 
Your sixteen year old trudges down the stairs with a scowl plastered on her face and an attitude that is not going to get her anywhere in this conversation. “Why would you say I called you down here?” You sternly asked, crossing your arms and trying not to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. Bella shrugged as she nonchalantly leaned against the wall, “Isabella I won’t ask you again!” The threat flew over her head as she rolled her eyes, “Will you please just put your plate away, that’s all I’ve asked you to do.” You pleaded on the verge of tears, you were extremely tired from your day of work and nobody seemed to be on your side. 
Alexia picked up on your tone and knew that this was not going to end well. Isabella however didn’t even bat an eyelid to your pleading, “Emilia didn’t put hers away.” You took a deep breath, “Your sister helped make the dinner.” Isabella scowled as she glared up at you, “No, no voy a guardar mi estúpido plato de comida!” You were taken aback by her sudden burst of anger and you knew you had to put your foot down. “Ya está, up to your room and don’t come out for the night. You’re grounded, give me your phone.” 
Isabella scoffed and stomped her foot much like she used to do when she was younger. “You are the worst, Mami would never treat me like this, ¡Te odio!” The words rattled around the house as it fell silent. Isabella looked taken aback by her words as she caught her breath, regret starting to seep into her but she was still angry. Alexia quickly made herself known, “Habitación ahora.” She firmly told her eldest, Isabella went to argue, “¡Ahora!” The sixteen year old knew better than to argue when her Mamí was mad so she retreated back upstairs. 
“That was mean.” Isabella heard a small voice as she started up the stairs, Val was clinging to the door of the living room as she looked up at her sister with an unsure look. “Lo sé.” She sighed regretfully as she hung her head. She wanted to apologise straight away but she was stubborn. Meanwhile in the kitchen Alexia was trying to assess the damage. She watched as you went back to washing up seemingly unbothered to anyone else but your wife saw straight through the façade. It was obvious in the way that your shoulders tensed and the deep breath that was released. 
You walked passed her, picking up the plate that was the cause of all this and aggressively starting to wash it. “Vale, no come here bebita.” The blonde sighed as you dropped the plate to fall into her arms. Her strong arms were wrapped tightly around you as she kissed the top of your head, “It’s okay, she didn’t mean that.” You Cleary didn’t believe her as you hummed non committedly. “I am a terrible mother.” You decided as Alexia’s eyes widened at your confession, “Basta, eres la major madre e Isabella lo sabe. Fights happen, we’ve fought does that make me a terrible wife.” 
You gripped her jumper as you breathed in her comforting scent, “No, you are the best wife.” Alexia smiled gently, wanting to bring you as much comfort as she possibly could. “So what does that make you?” Her large hands rested on either side of your face as yours stayed firmly gripped in her hoodie, “A good mother.” Alexia tutted softly before correcting you, “The best mother and the best wife and the greatest woman I have ever known, we are the luckiest girls on earth to have someone like you in our lives, vale?” You leaned up to kiss her sweetly, trying to convey just how much you adored the mother of your children and your soulmate. 
“She is so grounded.” Alexia sighs as she looks up at the ceiling where your daughters room is. “Yeah right, as if that will last.” You chuckle before pulling yourself together. It was then that you noticed Emilia hovering by the door, concern etched all over her face. You nodded her over and suddenly she was standing right in front of you. “You okay mommy?” Your twelve year old asked as she glanced up to your wife for reassurance. Just like she had with you Alexia managed to calm her daughter down with a few strokes to her hair, “I’m okay Meels, prometo.” She nodded before pouting cutely, “Am I going to be grumpy when I turn thirteen.” You had to stifle your laugh as your wife reassured her that she was already grumpy and that nothing would change. 
“By the way Dani’s a sleep under the table again and Val painted all over her face.” Emilia said as she left the room. Alexia winced as she turned slowly around to where you were glaring at her playfully. “She can sleep with you tonight while you sleep on the couch.” You teased as her eyes widened, rushed pleas as she grabbed a towel and prepared to wake up the three year old that was sure to be grumpy. 
Isabella was in fact let out of her room not even an hour after the incident with a warning and a tearful apology to her mom. 
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peachsukii · 6 months
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Okay I’m back I’m sorry your writing is like cocaine to me idk you’re awesome-
Bakugou x reader where they’re on a mission and it involves a teams of heroes to dress up like Dynamight to confuse the enemy??? Just like Bakugou’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend decked out in his gear like 😭😭😭
but like picture like reader trying to fit Bakugou into a version of her costume too-
Ohkay I’m going even further now- Bakugou and reader wearing formal wear modeled after each other at a Hero’s gala to debut their relationship to the world???? I can just imagine after the mission they just really like wearing each other’s stuff-
Anyways you’re amazing have an amazing day!!
I’m so so sorry this took me so long to get to! You’re the sweetest!! 🥰 thank you so much for rec and coming back! I’ve enjoyed the ideas you’ve suggested so much and hope you like this one. 💖✨
Substitute Gear
『 ♡』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | lovers (bf/gf) ꒱ ⇢ bakugo and reader are joking around in their apartment one night when they decide to try on each others costumes! this leads to a fun inspiration for the upcoming hero gala as their agencies recommend for them to reveal their relationship officially. Why not do it in style?
꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ no cw minus cursing | fun & fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~1.1k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
“Ugh, what an ugly shift,” you complain as you’re walking through the front door of your apartment. You’re kicking off your dirty boots in the entryway when Katsuki comes to greet you.
“Long day?” He asks, analyzing how filthy your hero suit is. It doesn’t stop him from giving you a light peck on the lips to welcome you home.
“More like what didn’t happen today. A kid threw up on me, and when I washed that off, some asshole bled all over me when I cuffed him! To top it all off, I tripped and fell into the mud while in pursuit of a robbery. Head first!”
As you’re rattling off the laundry list of shitty things that happened during the day, Katsuki’s silently instructing you to take the suit off. He spins you around, unzipping the neck piece and carefully removing all of your components and accessories.
“I broke my damn helmet in that fall,” you groan, wiping dried dirt from your cheek.
“Better than your head, dumbass,” Katsuki counters. “Ya got extras, no use cryin’ over one of ‘em.”
You shimmy the suit off of your shoulders and pull out of the material one limb at a time.
“You’d think as heroes, there’d be a professional laundry service or something,” you complain, letting your suit crumple on the floor. It comically puffs out a dried cloud of grime.
Katsuki stifles a laugh. “Weird way of sayin’ I do all your laundry. Get your ass in the shower, you reek.” He smacks your barely-covered ass to get you moving, continuing to snicker to himself as you waddle down the hallway.
───
After a long and hot shower, you emerge from the bathroom with a dramatic haze of steam following you.
“Ya done yet, peach? Dinners done,” Katsuki calls from the kitchen, dishes clattering as he’s prepping plates for the two of you. You scamper down the hall to meet him in the kitchen, a delicious aroma filling your senses when you approach the stove. He hands you one of the plates of beef and peppers stacked high on a bed of rice.
“Mmm, you even made me extra peppers!” You chirp, flashing him a cheesy smile. He grins in response and slips past you to sit on the couch.
The news channel is droning in the background during dinner, the news anchors excitedly discussing the upcoming annual Hero Gala - the glitz and glamour side of it, anyways. The Gala itself is an enormous event to celebrate Japan’s hero society and to announce the year’s hero ranking; however, everyone treats it as one extravagant event, red carpet and all.
“I’ve never been to the gala before,” you say before taking another mouthful of rice. “I never qualified to attend until this year. I’m kinda nervous to be…debuting us, if I’m being honest.”
Your agencies had caught wind of your relationship - rather, Katsuki’s assistant accidentally caught you two kissing in his office - and wanted to use you as an opportunity to introduce the “new hottest hero couple.” Agencies care about appearances and tabloid drama just as much as actual hero work. What's hotter than a top hero dating a lower - much lower - ranked hero?
The gala is in two weeks and the two of you haven't settled on what to do about it.
“Th’ agencies wanting to use us as an attention grab is fuckin’ stupid," Katsuki mumbles, brows scrunched in frustration. "Who gives a shit who we're dating? Doesn't affect my ability ta do my job."
He had a point, of course, but that didn't make you any less nervous about it. You were being pressured to have an extremely public date and let "fans" know that Dynamight was off the market. The thought of fans metaphorically bashing your head in wasn't ideal, but whatever gets "ratings," right?
"We might as well just show up in each others' costumes," you joke, rolling your eyes as the news anchor shifts topics to the latest update on another nonsense story.
"That's...not a bad idea!" He shouts, putting his plate on the coffee table and excitedly jogging down the hall to the bedroom. "Where's your backup suit?"
"In the closet, why? There's no way your muscular ass is getting in that tight suit."
"No, dumbass! C'mere!"
You place your plate next to his and get up from the couch, waltzing to the bedroom to see what he's on about. Both your hero suit and his are laying on the bed next to each other.
"What if we swapped colors?" He asked, pointing to the suit designs. "You wear mine and I wear yours. That'll give the media somethin' to yap about."
That's actually...a brilliant idea! The media would absolutely eat up the "bad boy" Dynamight strutting into the gala with his partner's color pallet, especially because your colors were pinks and purples.
You raise an eyebrow to him, smirking as you begin to imagine him in a sharp pink and purple suit. "You do look good in pink, the few times you've worn it."
Katsuki cackles and winks at you. "Course I do, I make anythin' look good."
He immediately calls his agency to request the garments - they agreed wholeheartedly and offered to fund both outfits.
───
The night of the gala has finally arrived! There are plenty of news crews from all channels present, huddled around the main red carpet entrance. The scene is bedazzled with flashing camera lights, the shutter sounds of multiple cameras capturing photos in tandem. Your complimentary custom outfits are pristine and Katsuki's hand is in yours as the limo pulls up to the gateway, giving you a soft squeeze to gather your attention.
"It'll be fine, sweets. Jus' follow my lead, 'kay?"
You nod while taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Thanks babe."
The limo attendant outside skips to the door, opening it for the two of you and ushering you to the entrance. You're both standing in line behind other heroes awaiting their turn to enter the building, attention already building in your direction. A few minutes go by before one of the hosts motions for the two of you to proceed to the entrance.
Your heart is racing, threatening to burst right through your ribcage as the hot spotlights are covering the two of you. Cameras are flashing rapidly, waves of unintelligible shouting invading your senses - "Dynamight! Over here, look this way!" "Just one this way, you two!" "To the left, please!"
Katsuki's jaw is tense as his eyes are roaming around to satisfy multiple camera men, the resting glare he normally sports on patrol adoring his features. Your attempting to keep a soft smile, posing and waving gently. Suddenly, you're tugged into Katsuki's side, his hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his personal space. He spins you to face him, cupping your chin and dipping you backwards as his lips grace your own, holding you in place.
The world around explodes with surprise, the peanut gallery clamoring with questions about the two of you - "Are you two an item?" "Oh! A higher ranked hero and a brand new one!" "What a scandalous amount of PDA!"
When you part, he pulls you back to his side and keeps his hand on your waist while the two of you continue into the gala together. The paparazzi outside are tailing the two of you as they're stopped at the door, shouting for answers as he flips them off over his head.
"Told ya it'd be fine. Now let's fuckin' eat and enjoy the damn night."
thanks again for the suggestion @queenpiranhadon ! ✨
527 notes · View notes
uniivrz · 6 months
Text
mic'd up
katie mccabe x reader
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+ summary: reader, still on the acl squad, has been approached by the arsenal media staff asking if she'd go mic'd up in the stands for one of arsenal's games.
+ warnings: ACL injury mentions right off the bat. swearing. made up game (arsenal v tottenham). reader really embracing the WAG life.
a/n: i came across a video of katie during one of the covid matches, and due to the empty stadium you could hear everything she said— and that's where i got this idea :) my first post, hope you enjoy!
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like any other football player, you hated the dreaded three letters that would take whoever was the unlucky soul out of the game for a long while.
of course it had always been a fear in the back of your mind, you just never thought it would actually happen to you.
that day you went down on the pitch had been one of the worst. not just for you, but for katie as well as the rest of your arsenal team.
everything had been fine. arsenal was up by two, and half time had just ended. it was around the 52nd minute, when a purposely bad tackle from a chelsea player left you on the ground, clutching your knee as you attempted to keep the tears at bay. (only to fail).
some time later you were holed up in one of the physio rooms of the stadium, when katie came in, the look on your face confirming her worst fear.
honestly, it was getting quite scary how many arsenal players were getting ACL injuries.
she had been by your side for all of it, constantly making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed, as well as driving you to and from appointments.
the downside meant you weren't able to travel with the team for away games, forcing yourself to be holed up in your flat you shared with katie— often inviting the rest of the ACL squad over to watch the game together, knowing you'd be insufferable on your own.
luckily for you, today was a home game. you woke up before katie that morning, hobbling down the stairs on your good leg, (and nearly eating shit in the process), you'd prepared her a proper breakfast, consisting of pancakes, bacon, & eggs.
the brunette soon appeared in the kitchen behind your unsuspecting frame, an adoring smile crossing her face at the sight of you lightly nodding your head to whatever song came from the speaker on the marble counter.
nearly jumping out of your skin at the feeling of two strong arms wrapping around your waist, your body relaxed as you registered the familiar feeling of katie, her arms clad in her arsenal training jacket.
you leaned into her touch as you finished up with the bacon, her thick irish accent rang through your ears as her nose brushed against your neck gently. "you should not be on your feet,"
rolling your eyes fondly, you forced yourself to suppress a smile. ever since your injury, katie had been treating you as if you were a porcelain doll— going to break at the slightest touch.
while sometimes it became a little overbearing, it warmed your heart for her to be this protecting with you, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.
"i was cleared to walk without my crutches, katie," your giggled, relishing in the ticklish feeling of her light breathing against the back of your neck.
"still. ya should have waited for me." she murmured. "i could have carried you down here."
you rolled your eyes once again.
for the first few weeks/months of your injury, she had insisted on carrying you everywhere. from the bed to downstairs, from the front door to the car. no matter where it was— she wanted to carry you. wether it was bridal style, your legs wrapped around her waist, or giving you a piggy back, she didn't care.
after breakfast was finished, you rushed back up to change. you settled on one of katie's hoodie's, along with her jersey which you threw on top, and a pair of her sweatpants. nearly everything you wore was hers.
when you'd returned downstairs, she grinned widely at the sight of you dressed in her attire, and couldn't restrain herself from letting her hands roam your body as you shoved your feet into some sneakers.
"oi hands off, mccabe."
the ireland captain chuckled, tapping your rear end before you stood back up, sending you a cheeky wink when you glared at her.
arriving at the emirates with your personal chauffeur, the two of you made your way through the grounds, greeting any staff members you'd passed by and waving to the media staff as you each made your way toward your separate destinations.
you had a brief session with a physio to assure everything was still fine and dandy with your knee, whereas katie was heading off toward the locker room with the others.
as you left your meeting 15-ish minutes later, you had been wandering the halls when you were stopped by one of the media staff, claiming they had a task for you.
since you were going to be in the stands again, they had asked if you would go mic'd up, thinking it'd be a fun video idea for arsenal's youtube channel.
you agreed quickly, thrilled at the idea. they had informed you that there would be a camera a little ways away from you, to capture your reactions in both your voice as well as your actions.
one of the members clipped a small square microphone device to the collar of your (katie's) jersey, as another member held a camera and recorded your actions.
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Youtube
Y/N L/N MIC'D UP • ARSENAL V TOTTENHAM
Arsenal 578K views 6:38
0:00
[Camera fades in from black to show you, stood in one of the many corridors of the Emirates Stadium.]
grinning, you gripped your shirt and pulled it closer, "we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! can you hear me?" you asked, looking into the camera that was recording you.
[Laughter is heard around you before the scene cuts and fades into a brief black screen. When it returns, the camera is unfocused, going in an out before focusing on you, looking at the camera as you don't realize it's recording.]
"is it going?" you asked with a dopey smile, the cameraman behind you nodding. "right. hi, i'm y/n l/n and today i'll be mic'd up as i watch tonight's game." you giggle, pointing at the microphone clipped to your shirt before you make your way toward your seat.
[Camera follows you down the hall before cutting to you sat with Beth, Viv, and Leah, the former two sat in the row below you. You pull a small, barely noticeable box out of your pocket. The camera zooms in on your hand, revealing the box is actually a miniature uno deck.]
"i know how we can pass the time," you grin micheviously.
0:45
[Camera cuts to the four of you playing uno, Beth and Viv swiveled in their seats to face you and Leah above them. It catches Leah attempting to peek at your cards before you shove her head away, the scene then switching to a new clip of the four women arguing.]
"absolutely not, beth cheated!" leah yells, hands dropping dramatically onto her thighs with a loud smack.
"you fucking wish! you just suck williamson!"
[Viv is seen trying to keep the peace as you laugh loudly, the four of you gaining looks from surrounding match watchers— only for them to look away at the sight of four of arsenal's own. Your laughter becomes louder as Leah slams her tiny cards aggressively onto your thigh, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair with a pout.]
"oh, cheer up captain," you pout mockingly, reaching to pinch her cheeks between your fingers.
1:02
[Camera cuts to the teams walkout, briefly showing Katie McCabe before turning back to you, a large grin on your face, never failing to leave.]
"that's my girl!" you shout, hands cupped around your mouth to make yourself louder. "let's go number fifteen!"
1:39
[Cuts to you leaned back in your seat with your arms folded. An amused look is on your face as you shake your head. Camera pans to the big screen as Katie's name is shown, a yellow card next to it.]
"it's been like thirty minutes and she already has a card," you giggle to yourself before sighing fondly, a gentle smile on your face. "that's my girl."
2:06
[Different camera shows Katie sliding her foot in front of a Tottenham player, successfully and cleanly retrieving the ball from her feet before panning to you with your elbows propped up on your knees, head resting in your hands.]
"oh my god, she's so hot." you sighed absentmindedly, momentarily forgetting about those surrounding you and the microphone attached to your collar.
[Beside you, Leah bursts out laughing, the sound picking up through your mic as the blonde discretely turning to the cameraman who has now directed it toward her, pointing at you before fake wretching.]
3:21
[Camera shows you jumping up out of your seat, annoyance clear on your face as your hands are perched on your hips.]
"oh, come the fuck on! that's so clearly a foul!"
4:38
[During halftime, the camera follows as the four of you briefly leave your seats to join the girls in the locker room. The cameraman does not enter, only filming the door, however you can be heard from inside.]
"north london is what?!"
"north london is red!" an irish voice answers you.
"hell yeah it is!" you reply, then followed by the sound of palms smacking against each other.
another voice cuts in, "alright, simmer down you two!"
"oi! put her down, she's fragile!"
4:50
[Camera cuts to you stood with your hands on Katie's shoulders, giving her your usual half time pep talk, brushing stray fly-aways out of her face as she smiles at you. The sound is cut off, so the viewers can only see the motion of both players' lips moving as you speak to each other, the final thing being Katie moving toward you, scenes changing just before any PDA is shown.]
5:47
[Camera pans from Katie running around the pitch celebrating, arms in the air and then back to you, the four Arsenal players chanting together, you being the loudest and most enthusiastic of the four.]
"we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! i just don't think you understand! she plays out on the wing! she hits it with a zing! we've got katie mccabe!"
6:25
[Video closes out with you and Katie stood outside of the stadium, her arm wrapped around your shoulder as you do the outro.]
"that was me mic'd up, i hope i was entertaining enough for you all. thanks for watching." you grin shyly, waving with both hands. "leave a comment if you think katie should get mic'd up next."
[Katie laughs before kissing your cheek affectionately, the brunette waving bye with her free hand before the video fades to black.]
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Instagram Posts
ynln
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Liked by victoriapelova and 51,094 others
ynln Watch me go Mic'd Up as I watch Arsenal Women's recent match against Tottenham!
Video is out now on the Arsenal Youtube Channel and the Arsenal Instagram Account!
— view all comments
katie_mccabe11 It's a good one 😉
⤿ bethmead_ We know why you think that 🙄
username petition to get yn mic'd up again, sign here
⤿ username signed
⤿ username signed
⤿ ynln signed
leahwilliamson Alternate title, YN thirsting over Katie for 6 minutes straight 🤢
⤿ katie_mccabe11 Jealous are we, Williamson?
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Twitter/X
ynsmccabe that new video arsenal posted of y/n l/n is now my favorite thing
⤿ the clip of her and katie in the hall OMG
⤿ mccardlover no because they literally the only couple ever
⤿ meadema99 leah getting upset over beth cheating in uno after she literally tried to look at y/n's cards 😭😭
username pls the amount of bleeps they had to add to this video because of yn 😭
⤿ username never heard someone curse so many times in 6 minutes
katiespelova oh i need more mic'd up videos with the rest of the team now
username if my relationship isn't like katie's and yn's i don't want it
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490 notes · View notes
Text
Follow You Anywhere 10
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: back to work but still hurting.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You’re grateful only for the reprieve of Sy’s shower. He spends at least an hour in the bathroom but it’s not nearly enough time to figure this out. He’s not going anywhere and you have no way of changing that. And with how things are going, it won’t be long before you’re entirely trapped with him. 
The helplessness suffocates you. You slowly get up, needing to do something, anything to keep your thoughts from spiralling further. Or him. 
You go to the kitchen and pull out some chicken. Even with your recent shop, what you have won’t last. Not with two people. You marinate the tender breast as you pull out the jasmine rice and your mini rice cooker. Everything you have is built for one, it’s another reminder that he’s invaded your life. 
The bathroom door opens and you stay hidden in the kitchen. It’s only as he calls your name that you poke your head out. You don’t want him to think you’ve tried to escape again. Imagine that, escaping your own life. 
“Here,” you squeak and your mouth hangs open. He stands in only a towel. It’s low enough that the trail of hair along his stomach grows thicker just above the knot. Your lashes flick and you cough, “just starting dinner. Jerk chicken and... and rice.” 
“Sounds delicious,” he grins and runs his fingers through his beard. “Much better than field rations, eh, Aika?” 
He whistles at the dog and she perks her ears up. Sy sighs and drops his arms, smiling at you dreamily. Your eyes wander to the scars all over his body; a thick raised one along his ribs and smaller ones flecked along his shoulder and a line on his lower stomach. 
“I’ll get dressed,” he rubs his hands together, “can’t be eatin’ in my towel, huh?” 
“Sure, uh, I... I’ll be in here.” 
You go back into the kitchen and stare at the rice maker. You see the reflection of his scarred mind in his body. Again you can’t help the rent in your heart. That sympathy that underlines your fear. He’s a tortured soul but not one you can soothe. You don't know where to begin. 
You put the chicken in the oven and set the rice to cook. Next you look for a veggie. Broccoli. Standard. You’ll add a bit of seasoning. You’re not very hungry, even as the aromas rise in the air. 
“God, it’s hot in here,” Sy growls as he appears in the doorway that opens to the dining space.  
“It’s the oven,” you say as rinse the head of broccoli, “sorry.” 
“Ah, you know, it’s not half so bad as the desert,” he chuckles, “Aika knows. The way the sand gets all in your mouth and—and everywhere else.” 
“I can’t imagine,” you murmur, “wouldn’t be a day at the beach, I’m sure.” 
“Mm, no,” he agrees as he leans on the wall, “not a bad idea. I could take ya down for a beach day. We could get some good pictures. A few videos.” 
“Maybe, I don’t know,” you focus on your task. You put the broccoli on the cutting board and pull out a knife. 
“You want me to get that, sweetie? Don’t wanna cut yourself now,” he pushes away from the wall. 
“No, I got it,” you line up the knife and chop the head in half. He winces. 
“It’s dangerous, you got a smaller one?” 
“Really, Sy, I’m fine,” you insist as he looms closer, “let me just get dinner ready and you can sit--” you hiss as you pull your finger back at the sudden slip. 
“I told ya,” he accuses as he grabs your hand and examines it. His grip is iron and you don’t resist. There’s no blood. 
“It was just my nail,” you wiggle the top of your finger, “please--” 
“Let me do it,” he insists and reaches for your other hand, “give me the knife, sweetie.” 
You hesitate but hand it over. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous about it. Still, there’s no sense fighting over sharp objects. 
“We gotta work together, don’t we?” He says as he chops.  
“Sure,” you agree thinly. 
You turn to get a sheet pan for the broccoli. You’ll dress in oil and some spices, maybe a bit of lemon juice. As you lay parchment paper over it, he drops the knife in the sink. 
He remains, crowding you as he watches you work. You spread out the little branches and drizzle them over. You put them in beside the chicken and rinse off your hands. You dry off and glance over at Sy. He's watching you. 
“You really don’t have to stay out here,” you say. 
“I like being around you,” he grins, “still can’t believe it’s real.” 
Me neither, you think. 
“Well, all that’s left is the waiting,” you set a timer, “so...” 
“Ah, well, s’pose we can do that on the couch.” 
“Oh, well, I was gonna get the laundry together,” you say, the excuse popping up spontaneously. 
“Why don’t you wait ‘til tomorrow?” 
“Right, uh, I wanted to get it done. I need to get back to my commissions tomorrow.” 
“Mmm,” he hums flatly, “you work too hard.” 
You withhold a mean thought. He hasn’t mentioned work since he showed up. What about that desk he was talking about? You know better than to challenge him. You’ll keep the peace as long as you have to. Get through dinner then worry about the real test; bedtime. 
“Alright, let’s sit,” you relent and reach for his large hand.  
It’s not an affectionate gesture, merely appeasing. You can still hear his voice booming and the thump his skull made on the wall. Not to mention the state of his face and the dent in your wall. You can’t forget what he’s capable of. You can’t deny that you’re lucky he only hurt himself. 
He lets you guide him out of the kitchen and you try not to show your reticence. You won’t think of what happened on the couch last time. Besides, you can’t leave the food to burn. 
💗
You eat at the table. It’s an excuse for some space. As you waited for the timer to save you, you were trapped in his embrace. His constant touching and cooing. You should be flattered when someone tells you you’re pretty and perfect but he just makes you want to combust. 
You can hardly stay still. You clear the table and tidy up what mess is left in the kitchen. You can hear him prowling in the other room. You wipe down the table and peek up as he stops to watch you. 
“Almost done?” He asks. 
“Sure, uh, I’ll finish and get washed up for the night.” 
“Washed up?” He echoes. 
“Brush my teeth, wash my face, all that,” you explain. 
“Oh, yeah, makes sense.” 
“What about Aika? She need to go out?” 
He stops and looks at the dog, still laying at the door. 
“She should,” he intones grimly, “I’ll take her then.” 
He disappears into the bedroom as you let out a breath. It’s not much. You know you’re just putting off the inevitable. He reemerges with the jangle of keys and you see your phone case peeking out of a pocket in his cargo shorts. He might seem scattered but there’s something about him that assures you he’s just as calculated. 
“I’ll be back,” he assures and stops just by the door, “sure you don’t wanna come with us?” 
You rinse off the cloth and shake it out. 
“I’ll be fine.” 
“You should come...” he mumbles. 
“Sy,” you go to the doorway parallel to the apartment door, “I promise, I won’t go anywhere.” 
You have nowhere to go. 
He stares at you. His looks pale and drawn. He cracks his neck as he tilts his head one way then the other. He lets out a long exhale as he sets his head straight and he steps closer. Aika stands, her paws scuffing on the hardwood. You gulp as he makes himself bigger and glares down at you. 
“I know you won’t,” he says quietly, “because you know I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t you, sweetie?” 
You bat your lashes and gulp. You nod, “yes, captain.” 
His lips curve and he reaches to grab you, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “good girl. Get nice and fresh for me.” 
He lets you go with a growl and you stand frozen between the counters. Aika watches him with her doleful eyes as he steps into his boots. He opens the door and points her out, not bothering to take the leash with him. She looks at you, wiggling her nose, before she goes. 
The door snaps shut behind Sy and jolt you. You can’t shake the grit in his voice. The subliminal threats laced into his proclamation of devotion. He found you and he’ll find you again, so why bother trying to run? 
You shut off the kitchen light and flit into the bedroom. You gather up a set of pajamas. A white tee and short pairing with little sliced oranges stamped into the fabric. You lock yourself in the bathroom and face yourself in the mirror. You look just as afraid as you feel. 
You lay out the pajamas to one side of the sink and put on the fluffy headband that keeps your hair out of the way. You start your usual routine, the familiarity the only comfort you have left. Brushing flossing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and toning. It’s the little things you started to make yourself feel better but they just aren’t working this time. 
You hear him return as you button up the pajama top. You stare at the door with dread and gather up your shirt and skirt, along with your panties and bra. You teeter on the balls of your feet, trying to find whatever you might call courage. He gets there first. 
The knock makes you jump. You quickly go to the door and flip back the lock. He opens the door from the other side before you can. 
“Everything okay?” He asks. 
“Yes,” you answer dumbly as you hug your armful of clothes. 
“Oh, you look... nice. Refreshed.” 
“Um, yeah,” you say as you waver. There’s no room to get around him. 
He steps back and waves you out. You carry the clothing into the bedroom to dump in the hamper and turn to find him looming in the doorway. Great. 
“You smell good,” he purrs as he peels off his shirt. 
“Did you lock the door?” You ask. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout that. You got me here to take care of ya,” he scoffs and hurls the shirt so it just barely clings to the side of the hamper. “Those are some cute jammies.” 
“Oh, uh, thanks,” you look down and pinch the sides of the shorts. 
“Long day,” he stretches and drops his arms, unbuttoning his shorts shamelessly. 
“Yep,” you agree, “be nice to sleep.” 
You go to the edge of the bed and slip beneath the duvet. You tuck your chin down as you hug yourself beneath the fluffy cover and keep your back to him. He flips the light off and you nearly whimper. The bed dips behind you and cool air flows under the blanket as he climbs in behind you. 
You’re not surprised when he swathes you in his thick arm. He pulls you against him, his furry chest flush to you as he purrs. You grasp his forearm and squirm as his heat surrounds you. He nuzzles your hair and plumes hot breath over your scalp. 
“Ain’t this nice? I could spend every night like this,” he growls as he keeps you curled up in one arm as his other hand trails down your side. “Never slept much over in the s—over there.” 
You squeak and stare into the static darkness. You tremble and force out a yawn. Maybe he’ll get the hint. For once. 
“I’m tired too, sweetie,” he toys with the bottom button on your shirt, “I know I’ll sleep all nice and cozy with you.”  
His fingers tickle your lower stomach and crawl beneath the cotton. You go rigid as he creeps up your soft flesh and you latch onto him as you try to stop him. He presses his lips to your crown. 
“Don’t be bad,” he warns in a gristle. 
You let him go with a babble. He brings his hand to cover one side of your chest. He squeezes and lets out a raspy groan. He rolls his hips and you feel he’s in need again. You close your eyes and brace yourself. It’s worse than the couch. You’ve laid yourself down in his trap. 
“You’re so soft, sweetie,” he fondles you, swirling his rough fingertips around your nipple, “so warm...” he inhales your scent and snarls, “you got me hurtin’ so bad.” 
249 notes · View notes
reidswhre · 19 days
Note
A vague request for Spencer x reader!! (only if you want too, obviously.) Maybe some hurt/comfort?? I'm such a sucker for those.
spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: you keep your nightmares and insomnia to yourself till you reach a point where you can’t handle it anymore, it’s great your boyfriend is there for ya.
warnings: nightmares, insomnia, anxiety, low self-esteem due to the lack of sleep, however, it’s hurt and comfort! 🫶🏼
a/n: it's a bit rushed but I'm a little inspired so I did it before my inspiration disappeared, i hope you like it. also english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes. as always my request are open feel free to send me yours!
Sleeping is supposed to be something pleasant. It usually reduces stress and improves your mood. It’s the favorite activity of many people—in fact, it used to be yours too.
Until insomnia and nightmares began. At first, they weren't that bad; they scared you a bit, but nothing more. Then they became terrible, making you feel so awful you wanted to throw up, which led to unstoppable insomnia.
You used to sleep maybe 3 hours a day at most, and it was killing you. Not only were you unbearably tired all day, but you also had a mood so bad that even you couldn’t stand yourself. As a result, you started treating people around you poorly, which made you feel awful, but at this point, it was beyond your control.
You hadn’t told anyone either—you didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily. It wasn’t needed. You were probably just going through a rough patch. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde.
“Hey.” Spencer’s face greeted you when you opened your apartment door to let him in.
“Hi,” you replied with a small smile.
“I really missed you,” he said as he walked into your apartment, planting a kiss on your forehead.
You smiled. “Really? I missed you too,” you said sincerely. “You were gone for a few days.” Spencer’s job often required him to be away, and you handled it pretty well.
“Yeah, the case was tough,” he explained as he placed some bags in your kitchen. “How’ve you been?”
“Me? Well... good, I guess. Nothing new,” you shrugged.
“Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows, questioning you.
“Yeah, don’t worry.” You looked away, feeling uncomfortable.
Again, you didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone that you hadn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. There was no point in saying it.
“What’s in the bags?” You pointed at them, trying to change the subject.
“Oh, I read that green tea increases the body's relaxation capacity and helps with sleep. Plus, the amount of L-theanine is higher than caffeine, so it’s a great option to avoid insomnia,” he explained while taking the tea out of the bags.
“You think I need that? Why would you think that?” you said, your mood shifting a bit.
“What? No, I don’t think you need it. I just thought it’d be good to have to relax a bit. Personally, I’m sleeping fine, but I don’t see any harm in drinking it,” he said, looking at you.
“Well, I’m sleeping great too, so I don’t need it, okay?” There it was again. You had no idea why you were treating him this way—he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I never said otherwise,” he said, frowning.
“Good.” You looked at the floor, feeling uncomfortable.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay—”
“I’m perfectly fine,” you interrupted him and walked out of the kitchen.
You entered the bathroom in your room and splashed some water on your face, hoping it would refresh you. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a bit pale, with dark circles under your eyes that you hadn’t had in years, and your lips were dry. You felt terrible—like a completely different person.
But you decided that if you stayed there any longer, Spencer would come looking for you, and you’d have to give explanations you weren’t willing to share.
When you got back to the living room, you saw him sitting on the couch with his cup of tea and another cup next to him that was probably cold by now.
And you felt horrible.
Horrible wasn’t even enough to describe it.
He had bought and made tea just to help you relax a bit, even without knowing that this was the very thing driving you crazy.
And you had responded terribly.
“Spencer, I—” You tried to start.
“I think it’s better if we just go to bed, don’t you? It’s been a long day,” he said, getting up from the couch.
“Uhh... yeah, sure,” you whispered, staring at the floor.
Your heart was racing, sweat was running down your forehead and neck, and your head was spinning as you tried to push away the dreams that had been tormenting you.
“Hey,” you heard a voice in the distance. “Hey, listen to me, love, hey,” the voice repeated in your head.
“Hey!”
You suddenly sat up in bed, completely disoriented.
“Hey, you’re okay, right? You’re here with me,” Spencer said, looking at you while placing his hand on your knee. But you couldn’t really hear him. Your head was ringing so loudly it felt like it was going to explode.
“Sweetheart?” Spencer stroked your cheek, concerned.
Suddenly, you regained a bit of awareness. You looked at him and his worried face, then around the room. The clock read 12:38 AM. Your hands were sweating, and you were cold.
All of a sudden, everything you’d been carrying for weeks collapsed. It just fell apart, and you started crying like you hadn’t in a long time.
“Oh my God,” Spencer whispered as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you tightly.
“I’m so tired,” you sobbed into his neck.
“What’s going on, love? I need you to tell me, okay? So I can help you,” he whispered in your ear, his voice soft.
“I haven’t been able to sleep for a few weeks now,” you mumbled against him. “I have insomnia and lots of nightmares. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” he asked, gently cupping your face in his hands.
“I—I don’t know,” you sobbed. “I didn’t want to bother you, and I didn’t want to seem weak, I—” You stumbled over your words.
“Don’t say that. You could never bother me, especially not with something this important. It’s serious, and I don’t think you’re taking it seriously enough,” he said, looking at you with his kind brown eyes, caressing your cheek with his thumb.
“I thought I was just having a few bad days, I don’t know—” you tried to explain through your tears.
“It’s okay, we can work through this. Tomorrow, we can see your therapist and check on how you’re doing, alright?” he said, kissing your forehead.
You nodded without saying anything, feeling safe.
“Let’s get that tea, yeah? I’m sure it’ll calm you down a bit—unless you don’t want it now either, hmm?” he teased you a little.
You let out a small laugh. “I want it.”
“Good, because I was going to make you drink it anyway,” he laughed with you.
“Hey!” you frowned.
“Don’t give me that face,” he said, kissing your furrowed brow.
“Thank you,” you said genuinely.
“For what? For making you drink tea?” he laughed.
“No, silly. For helping me, even though I didn’t treat you very well tonight,” you said, looking at the floor.
“Are you kidding? Of course, I’ll help you. It’s the least I can do. I love you, okay?”
“I love you too,” you said, giving him a small kiss on the lips.
You were probably going to sleep well tonight.
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psychesalcove · 21 days
Note
congrats on 100 followers!!! you deserve it🩷🩷
can i request percy with "no, mom, don't tell them I said that about them!"?? i can just see sally telling percy’s s/o just how much he talks about them😭
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✧.* percy jackson x gn reader
my blog is completely race & body type friendly!
part of psyches, 'in memory of those who chose the sea' event
-> want to participate?
an: thank you soo so much for the request love!! i definitely think this prompt fits percy really well:) love ya 🩷 ps. i'm sososo sorry about how inactive i've been. I've been having a massive writing block and I've been needing to write for English lately:((
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the smell of pancakes pulled you into the kitchen of sallys apartment even more than the warm light shining through the balcony window. sally immediately sensed you walked in, as she turned to you with a soft grin. 'hi, dear.' she said, sleep nowhere in her voice; even though it was 7 on a saturday morning.
'hi, sally,' you smiled. you couldn't count the amount of times you tried to call her ms. jackson only for her to correct you and say 'just call me sally, i'm basically your second mom already' with a wave of her hand.
sally was standing over the oven, making pancakes as you suspected. a couple of bunched up paper towels were on the counter, the blue food dye stains evident on them. 'im just finishing up breakfast, so feel free to have a seat,' she explained, tilting her head twords the small island counter with stools.
you nodded your head and walked over, sitting down in the comfy barstool. as you got rid of the rest of the sleepiness in your system, sally finished up breakfast. as she placed the last of the blue pancakes onto the stack, she turned to you and leaned on the opposite side of the counter you sat at.
'i know i've said this time and time again,' she said; your attention shifting from the tiled counter to sally. 'but, i'm so, so glad percy met you. you help him so much, and i can see, and even feel, how much that boy loves and lives for you.'
you heart melted, even though sally says that almost every time you see her. 'the amount of things he says about you whenever he comes home,' she scoffed playfully. 'it's insane.'
you giggled. 'what does he even say?' you asked.
sally scoffed jokingly again. 'well, last week, he came home all blushing and giggling. i asked what happened. he just started rambling about how—'
sally was interrupted by percys dramatic entrance into the kitchen. he stumbled a little as he corrected his footing, his eyes darting between you and his mom. 'no mom,' he started, pointing a finger at sally. 'don't tell them i said that about them,' he said, his hands moving to rub at his eyes; he probably stumbled out of bed in record time.
you laughed as sally rolled her eyes at percy. 'personally, your partner should know how much you love them,' sally said, moving to clean up the blue-stained paper towels.
percy simply gasped at her. 'mom! do you not see how much i love them?' he asked, hand coming up to clench the fabric of his shirt where his heart is. drama king. when sally didn't respond, he countined. 'here, ill even show you the love i give them at 7 in the morning,' he said, walking over to you and pressing extremely loud and wet kisses to your cheek and nose.
'percy!' you gasped, playfully shoving him off of you. 'that's gross,' percy simply moved behind you, arms going around your waist to hug you. 'and you have awful morning breath,' you said as you leaned back into him.
'you see how i get treated when i show them the love they deserve mom?' percy asked while sally simply laughed.
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rebelliousstories · 26 days
Text
Flirting Gone Wrong
Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader
Fandom: X-Men
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Brief Mentions of Suggestive Themes
Word Count: 1,040
Main Masterlist: Here
X-Men Masterlist: Here
Summary: After a while, most people would throw in the towel. Thankfully, or unfortunately, Remy is not most people.
Consider A Donation: Here
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Remy was at the kitchen, sulking as he stared at the group on the other side of the room. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, they just would not join him in the fun. After a while, Gambit thought that they might not be interested in him. But Storm had put a quick stop to that thought in his head. According to her, they really did like him, yet, for some reason they were not acting on it.
For months, he had been trying to make a move on the person. And every time he did it, they found another way to negate his attempts. Each time he laid down a line, they took it literally or chuckled it away. If he tried to wrap an arm around them, they ducked out of the way. If he tried to give them pastries or treats, they always split them with whoever else was around.
Safe to say, Gambit did not think that they liked him as Storm claimed. But he kept trying. Hoping that one day he would be able to win them over. However, there he sat. Sulking over the fact that they were laughing about something with Rogue and Wolverine across the kitchen.
“Are you going to sit there and stare at them all day?” Jubilee asked, saddling up to where the Cajun was.
“I jus’ don’t get it, petite. Storm says they like me too, but they ain’t doin’ nothin’ to prove that. Jus’ treatin’ me like one of the rest o’ ya.” He lamented, dropping his chin on to the heel of his hand. Remy’s body sagged with the weight of a deep breath leaving his body.
“Gambit, listen. When we have our nightly talks, I can tell how much they like you. They’re just a little afraid to show it. Have you tried talking to them about it? Maybe seeing why they won’t return the affection?” This gave the man pause. He shook his head when he realized that he had never stopped to ask them why they were acting like this.
“Well, there’s your problem,” she shoved Gambit gently, “go talk to them about it. Because, if I’m being totally honest, I can’t deal with another day of you two pinning after each other. It’s frustrating in a sweet way.”
“You’re right, petite. Gambit should just go talk to them. Been beatin’ ‘round da bush too much.” He said with such conviction that Jubilee cheered. As he began to walk across the room, Remy stopped, turned back around, and held a worried look on his face.
“What should I say?” Jubilee rolled her eyes, but got up to go near him anyways.
“Something that’ll get you two together and not this ridiculous pining!”
The girl turned him back around, and shoved him hard towards the group. He stumbled, and nearly fell which caught everyone’s attention. Feeling his cheeks heat up, Remy chuckled nervously. Gambit shot a dangerous look back at the girl that had pushed him, who only smirked at him in return.
“You alright there, Gambie?” They asked, coming closer to offer a helping hand up. He only hoped that his confidence did not fail him now.
“Course I am, pistache. Listen, can I talk to you real quick? Alone?” Remy wondered quietly. They nodded and began to lead the both of them out of the kitchen towards the hallway. Sitting in silence for a while, Remy kept his eyes trained to the floor below as he tried to muster his courage back up.
“So…” they started, “what did you want to talk about?” The man was trying very hard to put his thoughts into words, but that was going horribly. They sat in silence for another minute before he composed himself.
“Do you like me at all?” He blurted out.
“Of course I do, Gambie. Why-“
“Not as a friend or another member of da team? But as a romantic partner?”
It was now their turn to become silent. Chewing their lip, their eyes stayed on the ground below them. Remy’s silver boots were now the most interesting things in the world. They knew that he was trying to get their attention back on him by calling their name, but they felt their mouth getting dry.
“And what if I do,” came their question once they could speak. Remy came closer to them so he was now in their bubble.
“Well, I’d love nothin’ more, pistache. Cause I’m right there with ya. Jus’ neva thought you liked ol’ Gambit is all. Neva game no signs or nothin’.” His hand scratched the back of his head as he admitted his feelings.
“Oh, no, Gambie. Don’t think that. I just never expected you to like someone like me.” Tilting his head to the side in what could only be described as a puppy tilt, Remy looked confused.
“Whatcha mean, pistache? We both mutants.” They groaned just a bit as they realized they needed to spell it out for the Cajun.
“No. That’s not what I meant, Remy. I mean, I never expected you to like someone that was asexual.” When he did not speak, they continued. “I don’t feel any sexual attraction. I want to go on dates and have a relationship, but sex grosses me out. I just don’t see the point to it.”
They teared up a bit when Remy had not spoken still. Realizing he had a fleeting moment, he rushed to take them in his arms comfortingly.
“Oh, pistache. Don’t think that now. Gambit don’t care. You jus’ keep bein’ lovin’ you, and we’ll figure it out from there. Ain’t gotta do nothin’ you uncomfortable with now.” He ran a hand over their head as he spoke, hoping that his words were able to get through.
“You really don’t care?”
“Non, pistache. Just care ‘bout you.”
The tears went away near immediately at this. Pulling away, they were able to look him in the eyes with joy this time. Raising onto their tiptoes, they pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, causing him to blush. He reciprocated as soon as he got the go ahead, and boy did he enjoy watching their cheeks light up in flames.
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