#( 'goofy could beat up dad' )
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c.w.: very smutty, ice cream and sex
The hot sun beats down on your hometown. It’s finally summer and you’re ready for the beach, freedom and romance. You and Miguel have been together since you were both 15. Growing up together, going to school, falling in love and staying in it until now. 18 years old, the two of you. You can’t wait to spend every day with him this summer, and you really can’t wait for those hot summer nights.
The only thing that gets in the way is summer jobs. If only you two were 10 again and you could spend every minute wasting the day away in the kiddie pool. But now at 18, there are other, better things you two can get up to.
This summer you’re working at your Dad’s store in town and Miguel is logging in his 3rd consecutive year at Sunny Scoops ice cream. A cute little place by the boardwalk with really good waffle cones and the cutest boy in town behind the register!
There, Miguel works all day, sweating and smiling, handing out ice cream to little kids, the elderly, families, anyone who’s having a beach day. And any girls who ask for his number, he just tells them to text you and ask for it. That usually prevents them from ever asking again.
He’s grown muscle over the past three years and ultimately you just had to help him cut the sleeves off his work t-shirt. Complaining about the ‘fit not being right’ on the bigger sizes.
The uniform he used to wear when he was 15 was pretty horrendous. Pink and blue striped and that goofy ice cream cone hat. Then he turned 16… 17… now 18 and wowza. You’ve watched him grow into a man. Now his arms are showing, his muscles from scooping rock solid ice cream all day long. Toned and extra tan from the summer sun. A bandana wrapped messily in his dark curls to keep the sweat off his forehead. Sometimes you’ll sit there with ice cream melting down your hand and between your fingers because you’re just staring at him moving around behind the little counter and through the little shop. Smiling handsomely to customers, his muscles flexing when he’s scooping the frozen treat, catching his eye and his smile when he sees you watching him. Flustered and flushed pink when he comes back over to talk to you, licking the drips off your knuckles.
“Your ice cream is melting, baby…” He would coo. Licking his lips of the sweet chocolate melt. “You’re really hot.” You’d sigh, completely in a daze.
You’re finally done with work now, letting your Dad know you’re leaving for the night. A plan in mind. A need for something sweet. Not just ice cream tonight. Leaving your Dad’s store at 9:30pm and Sunny Scoops closes at 10. You get in your car, letting the summer night breeze blow in through the windows. The cool down finally here as the sun is set. The night is still warm and sticky but not as blazingly hot as before.
…
“Here you go… have a good night.” You hear his voice as you’re walking up to the window. Watching a little boy and his mother walking away happily with huge ice cream cones in hand. And would you look at that… you’re next in line.
“Hey, gorgeous…” He smiles seeing you, leaning his elbows on the counter and watching you approach the window. “Hey!” You chirp, smiling up at him. “Busy day?” You ask, admiring his tip jar full to the brim. “Yeah, busy but good.” He nods, grabbing a waffle cone and moving around behind the counter. You peer over the edge to look inside. Watching him at the soft serve machine. He knows you so well of course. “Chocolate vanilla twist for the pretty lady…” He announces and hands you a tall swirl of ice cream.
“Come around back, I’m just closing up.” He nods and you take your ice cream, moving to the back of the teeny building to the back door. Walking inside. Like you do most days you come to see him. Miguel slides the window closed, locking it and pulling the wooden panel over to block the window. Locking the place up.
You hop up to sit on top of the big box freezer, licking the swirl of ice cream in your hand and watching him move some stuff around and close up.
“You wanna go to the beach tomorrow?” You ask, looking over at him with those eyes that make him weak. His eyes watching your pink tongue lick up your ice cream. “Sure.” He answers just softly. Focusing on doing his job before he loses all control. Not just yet. You smile and kick your legs softly. He walks past with a box, grabbing your ankle as you kick your foot up, giving you a look and letting his fingers run up your calf, bringing a smile to your lips, walking away as he finishes clearing the place up, taking the box to the shelves in the back. Coming back after a minute or two.
“Hey.” He hums, stopping in front of you, a sly sort of smirk on his face. “Hey.” You respond, just as softly, your ice cream only beginning to melt. “You’re so pretty…” He hums as if he hasn’t told you a million times before, making you smile and he steps closer, between your knees. His fingers teasing the sides of your thighs. “Preciosa chica…” He whispers, looking in your eyes and licking the drips off the back of your ice cream cone. Like he always does. Licking all the way to the top of the swirl and then his lips are on yours. His lips moving against yours, his tongue parting your lips. His tongue tasting of chocolate swirl and his lips sugary slippery sweet. His tongue delves into your mouth, his hand going to cup the back of your head, ice cream smashed and mixed between your two tongues. So sweet. Until he’s pulling back, both of you with a slurp.
You giggle softly, feeling sticky sugar all over your lips. “You want more?” You laugh, raising a brow at him and he grins. You tilt the cone towards his lips. “It’s yours, baby… I wanna see you eat it.” He replies.
His hands move up under your shirt, tickling your sides as he pulls you closer, sliding you across the freezer top. You smile, bringing the swirl to your lips and licking the melting ice cream, sucking gently and enjoying it, all while staring in his eyes. His hands move under the fabric, fingers moving up your ribcage, your diaphragm, to your breasts.
“No bra, mami?” He laughs, fingers exploring and kneading the plush of your tits. Staring in your eyes as he does it. “Took it off in the car…” You smile so innocently. He grows harder at the thought. That you took off your bra on the way over here. Like you wanted this to happen, you wanted him. Watching you gasp among the ice cream in your mouth, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples, rolling them gently between his thumb and index fingers. Massaging gently under your shirt. He leans forward, placing three deep kisses to your throat before pulling back again, his fingers grasping the hem of your t-shirt.
“Can I take this off?” He asks and you nod, mouth full of ice cream. He pushes your shirt up and off, the neon lights of the shop reflecting off your skin, off your breasts, making his mouth water. His arm anchors around your lower back, lips latching onto your breast, licking and sucking and squeezing the other in his hand. “Mmm- miguel…” You sigh, sensitized from his caress. He slurps and smooches your soft skin, the naughty noises filling the small space. The hum of the many fridges and freezers a soothing harmony with your soft moans and the sticky sucking of his lips.
He pulls back, kissing you a few times, tasting that sweetness on your lips. Keeping one arm around your back and your eyes widened in surprise watching him dip his fingers into the mountain of ice cream in your hand. Picking up dollaps of cold chocolate swirl on his fingers and smearing it over your nipples. Eliciting a sharp gasp from your throat as he does it. Looking down at your chest. He does the same with both sides. “You like that?” Grinning the whole time, holding you tight as you squirm. Freezing coldness hardening the buds until his warm lips come back down to suck the ice cream off. A shuddering and trembling moan leaving you at the feeling. Your free hand going to his hair, tangling in the dark curls. Pulling the bandana off of his head and watching his summer curls bounce free. “Ohhh- Miguel- '' You moan sweetly and he groans against your chest, your sticky sugary nipples sucked and kissed over and over until it's all gone.
“So sweet baby…” He pants, pulling his shirt off, coming back up to kiss your lips and holding your flushed cheeks in his hands. “Mmm..” You whine, kissing him back hungrily, deeper, your free hand running up his toned abdomen to his chest, a map of his body already ingrained in your brain after all these years, then wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, the ice cream dripping down your knuckles and onto his bare back, making goosebumps on his skin, his big hands running down your back and to your waist. “I don’t have a condom, baby…” He pants against your lips, his fingers in your hair; the words making your tummy flip in butterflies, knowing he wants you; he’s going to be inside. He pulls back for air, desperate to have you as he’s had you many times before.
“I do.” You pant for air, reaching blindly in your back pocket for the one condom you brought. “You really came here just to get fucked, didn’t you?” He laughs and smiles, taking the small foil packet into his sticky fingers. “I came here to see my love…” You hum, tilting your head at him. Not very convincing. His brow cocks in suspicion. “Fine. I came here to get fucked by my love.” You finally admit and the two of you can’t help the giggles.
Outside the small ice cream shop, cars drive by, peepers peep and crickets chirp. The temperatures go down as the night goes on, but inside the little parlor, things are heating up.
“Tell me where baby… tell me…” He whispers in your ear, knuckles deep in your heat and you’re barely able to hang onto him. One hand still occupied by the dripping melting ice cream cone. “Right there! Oh right th-there!” You squeal, his thumb moving expertly on your clit and his fingers flicking and curling deep inside. “Oh my god…” You whine, back arching and leaning back so far you almost fall back off the freezer. “Hey… hey… there you go…” He coos, holding you and helping you lay on your back. Limited on space but you make do. His fingers pumping generously into your needy pussy.
His bottoms are long gone but he takes the condom foil between his teeth, ripping it open carefully. “C’mon baby…” He pants. Taking your free hand and pulling it down to his dick. Guiding you to roll the condom onto his length. Shuddering and groaning feeling the lubed rubber and your soft warm hand pushing it down on him. All while his fingers still curl up against your g spot and you’re on the cusp of coming already. For a few moments, he thrusts into your hand around him. Relishing that pleasure until it’s not enough.
“Ready, sweet girl?” He steps forward, pulling your hips down to meet him at the edge of the freezer. “Mi corazón…” He whispers, a hand running flat over your tummy. “Mmm… yes please…” You whisper. And when he gets that confirmation, there’s no stopping his gummy tip from kissing your clit, pushing through your slick before slipping down and inside. Like the two of you were made for this. He was made to be with you in this way. You were created to be in love.
“Haahh…. Baby…” He sighs and shudders, easing himself in with small pulsing thrusts to stretch you out nicely for him. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious girl. Soon he’s pressed to the hilt and your back is arching from that alone. Your trembling legs latching around his waist as he starts his rhythm. Skin slapping skin in the sickly slip of sticky slick.
Moaning loud and free, the both of you, at the feeling. The feeling of being so full, so filled to the brim. Of love. Of him. The ice cream cone nearly falls out of your hand, your brain unable to think of anything but the pleasure between your legs. One leg wrapped around his hip and the other held in his arm, your knee draped over and his big hand wrapped around your thigh. Keeping you open for him; spread. Pumping into you steady and deep. His heavy eyes watching your face to see how much you love it. His hand on your thigh finds your free hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Panting and focusing. On getting you there. On making you feel the best he possibly can.
You’re delirious, hazy, a mess of moans and a buzzing burning ache for him.
“Baby baby-” He grabs your wrist when the ice cream almost slips entirely, holding your wrist and making it stay upright so he doesn’t have to mop the floors. Smiling when he sees your fucked out face. Easing the cone out of your hand so he can hold it. So that it doesn’t splatter on the floor. Letting your hand fall, fingers gripping and clenching around nothing. His thrusts are so deep, so giving, and he’s hitting every little spot that has you melting.
“That’s it, baby…” He encourages you, trying to bring you that sweet release. “So good Mig…so so sooo…” You whine, on the very edge of bliss. Miguel watches, breathing so fast and heavy. His eyes trail down your face to your soft, marked neck, to your shoulders, your tits, sternum, stomach. Until it’s almost involuntary, he dumps the cold, melting, dripping ice cream cone on your soft tummy. Pulling a high pitched squeal and gasp from your lips, the cold like the spark in a chain reaction, back arching as he drags the freezing smushed chocolate swirl up to your sternum. Your orgasm hits you before another second can think to pass. Your skin shining in melty vanilla and chocolate swirl. The cold making you clench around him.
Screaming in ecstasy and squeezing him so tight he's doubling over and groaning at the pressure. Thrusts become impossible and all he can do is spurt deep and hot. Filling the condom with a groan and feeling you fluttering around him. He licks a stripe up your sternum, slurping ice cream from your skin. Pressing messy kisses to your chest and his face just drips with the melted sugary substance. Drops and dribbles rolling down your sides as you gush on his dick. Trembling, shaking, coming down from what might be the strongest climax you’ve ever experienced.
“Oh baby… hah… that was amazing…” He pants, his voice wavering, leaning over you, kissing your cheeks, your neck, your lips. “I love, love you… hah…” He huffs, looking over your face to make sure you’re okay. “Mmm… I love you” You sigh, a blissed out smile on your face. He smiles seeing you’re happy and you’re feeling good; because that’s all he’s ever wanted. And all he’ll ever want.
#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#spiderman 2099#artists on tumblr#miguel fanart#miguel spiderverse#artists on tiktok#smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara smut#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel atsv#astv miguel#miguelohara#miguel x reader#summertime#summer#ice cream
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the boy is mine (carol's edition)
you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.
The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.
Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.
For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.
He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.
The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"
"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.
"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.
"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.
"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."
"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.
"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.
"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.
"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."
"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"
"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."
"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.
"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"
"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.
In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."
You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.
"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."
"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."
"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"
You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.
"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.
"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."
You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.
"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."
"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."
"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."
"It's fine--"
A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.
"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"
"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"
"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.
"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."
"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.
"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."
"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.
"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."
"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."
"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"
You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.
"Can I open the card?"
"Sure."
"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.
You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."
"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"
"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"
"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."
"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."
"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.
"No, that'll be later," you smirk.
"Hm?' his brows raise.
"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.
"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.
"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."
"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."
You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.
Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.
After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.
Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfiction#the boy is mine challenge#eddie munson x y/n
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giving you a cartoonishly big fat kiss on the forehead to make you feel better-
thats my WIFE (gender neutral) your brain is bad talking!!! tell it to square the 🦆 up 🤺🤺🤺
*turns into the forehead kiss meme* Thank you baby 🥺🥺🥺 that definitely fixed my brainwaves a bit. But please don't beat my brain up, it doesn't have that many cells, that's an unfair fight...
Here are forehead kisses headcanons with task force 141:
Price is the king of forehead kisses. Yeah, his beard does sometimes tickle or even prickle, but honestly - nothing matters when he puts his heavy palm on your scruff, rubbing and squeezing a bit roughly, then pulls you closer to rest his forehead against yours, and after several moments of the most intimate closeness a person can achieve, lets out a deep sigh and shifts to press his lips to the spot he just was leaning against. You could be bleeding out to death, but that still would bring you immense inner peace and calm. And he does it casually, too - as a good morning kiss, a goodbye, as a thank you for the cup of tea you bring him when he's busy, when he just thinks you look cute... it's paternal, and not just in a dad-coded way. It's a leader promising care for those who follow him.
Gaz leaves the warmest, lingering, molten kisses. It's the softest feeling ever, there's literally a wave of sunlight and warmth washing over you starting from the spot where his full lips are touching your forehead. It's a quintessence of tenderness, filled with the ultimate romance - if there's always something a bit playful in the reverence he kisses your hands with, his forehead kisses are just pure love and adoration. His eyes stay closed for a few moments after he pulls away, too, like he's enjoying this even more than you, and he often follows up with a temple kiss or soft peck on the bridge of your nose. His soft breath always makes your skin heat up and wakes up the butterflies in your stomach.
Ghost is a grumpy forehead kisser. It's often a result of him sulking or brooding about some minute disagreement or you refusing to stay in bed with him forever when he wants cuddles and you want not to be fired for missing work. He can't break the act that's supposed to tug on your heartstrings, but he still wants to kiss you - that's how you get these reluctant, short, gruff pecks that feel almost like a bird pecking at some grain. In some time you learn to catch that little smile he actually has when he kisses you on the forehead, thinking you won't notice, but confronting him about it is useless - he's too good at pretending he's nothing but a big grump. Too bad that he never expects a return forehead kiss. Or that you know he often does it while you're asleep (or he thinks you are) and he is restless.
Soap is the CEO of cartoonishly big fat forehead kisses. He makes a point out of grabbing your cheeks, squishing them and pulling you up close to give you the loudest, silliest, messiest SMOOCH. Usually as a distraction tactic while you're scolding him - and as you're fighting the stupid smile this goofy kiss elicits, he's already kissing you on the lips. Sly bastard. It's almost as if he just can't do it normally, even when it's not a bomb-diffusing tactic (with you being the bomb), but a rather sweet cuddling sesh, he still makes a loud smooching noise and gives a theatric satisfied sigh afterwards. You'll just have to get used to this silliness. Doesn't mean you shouldn't whoop his ass if he accidentally leaves a real fucking hickey right in the middle of your forehead. Idiot.
#juju's replies#mothman-juicy-ass#i love being called wife (gender neutral)#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 fluff#price x reader#captain john price#price cod#gaz x reader#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#soap x reader#john soap mactavish#soap cod#call of duty#cod#cod headcanons
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If you asked me during the hazbin hotel pilot era who my favorite character was, it be Alastor 100%. He unironically stole the show with his mystery (if the pilot didn’t have Vaggie lore dump unnecessary I would’ve enjoyed a bit more), personality, voice, charisma, and heck even his design especially his consistent smile intrigued me. Even the way he interacted with the entire cast made me excited.
So what do I think of Alastor now? Alastor to me is a loser, unironically an attention whore in terms of screen time and merch, an egotistical, petty person, and a man child edgelord. He lost most of his mystery and charisma throughout the show (though I will admit I am interested in his backstory but I won’t be surprised if he, himself has daddy issues. And, I did find some of his jokes funny).
The pilot portrayed Alastor as this powerful overlord who didn’t care about his status which made him so unique. He wasn’t gloating about how he’s the radio demon about to end your fucking life. Alastor in the pilot was subtle. At the snap of his fingers he destroys Sir Pentious with no hesitation and no exchange of words. Meanwhile, Alastor in the show has to blab and go this tangent of how sloppy, slow, and unprofessional Adam is only to get his ass handed to him.
Alastor in the show frequently mentions his status and gets pissy when most don’t care that he’s back or straight up not recognize him. Meanwhile, in the pilot you will notice that it’s the opposite, Charlie (the princess of Hell) and Vaggie are freaking out that Alastor is here at their door. It truly shows much power and control presents in the pilot without even trying.
The thing that disappointed me the most was his lack of interaction with the main hazbin squad. It was the driving point of why I was excited for Alastor and how his involvement was going to shake up the hotel for better or worse. Only to find out He barely interacts with them and I’m supposed to “care” when the most of cast members hug and get excited that he is alive in episode 8.
Speaking of the hotel, he barely contributes much regarding the hotel and fucks around. Like I was expecting him to at least help Charlie and Vaggie brainstorm activities for the sinners to do or even take control in his own of how he would handle Angel dust and Sir Pentious. Heck or even go outside with Charlie and Vaggie to promote the hotel to other sinners via singing and cause some drama/mischief along the way. Specifically talking about the hotel, the only things he did was do the commercial, fix the walls, and protects the hotel twice. But That’s it.
As I mentioned earlier, Alastor is an attention whore in terms of stealing the spotlight in the actual show and being in most episodes, which may be good for Alastor fans. They got the full course meal but Vivziepop needs to focus on other undeveloped main characters who desperately need the attention and development. Which why Alastor should be used sparingly, this would also make the audience more interested with him and creates more mystery.
For example: Episode 5, Dad Beat Dad: you would think the episode would focus on Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship which it does for a small portion but we also gotta have Alastor in there so he could drop the biggest F bomb to Lucifer to show that he means business and hatessss him. We also gotta dedicate a 2:30 minute song duet between the two men having a pissing contest, along with our home girl Mimzy being a plot device/prop for Alastor in order to HYPE HIM UP and tell his origins. Because Alastor soooo mysterious and such a hunkkkk. Oh yeah, Charlie is there I guess…
Also, Alastor’s smile in the show bothers me personally, more specifically the way it’s drawn. It’s to jaded and sharp, so it’s pretty obvious to tell how he feels and emotions Alastor goes through. Meanwhile, in the pilot his smile and energy is so goofy and I miss that. That really added to mystery because not only keeps you on your toes but you don’t know what’s on his mind for the most part or his long term goal.
This is by far my longest post and I wanted to get this off my chest regarding Alastor. 😭
#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#alastor#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critical#alastor critical
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THE LOST LOVE
ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: two lovers who went seperate ways years ago… one of the cases we love most!
ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, age gap (reader was in college & toji in his thirties when they met), dad!toji, breakup, implied divorce, insecurities, smut, unprotected sex
bold italic quotes = letter excerpts
PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“i like to think that meeting each other was like a breath of fresh air. for both of us. wouldn’t you agree?”
wake up. go to work. get home. eat. sleep. repeat.
toji’s life was a vicious cycle, one of a middle age man with no goals in life. it was funny to him how people would actually call that a life.
the only times he truly felt like he was alive was when he was seated on the bleachers watching a good old horse race. or a boat race. or whatever it was that he had bet money on.
no one understood him.
toji knew that life rarely gifted him anything. he was no lucky man. in the many years of betting and gambling, he seldomly won. and the money he had won those few times was enough to cover the ticket and perhaps a nice dinner.
and although knowing he was probably going to leave empty-handed, he did it for the thrill. it made him feel youthful again. like he hadn’t wasted his years on useless things that aged him faster than he had hoped to. like he was still the same old teenager he had been years ago.
it wasn’t until one fated day that he found out that there were other things that could bring him back to his youth, other than doing useless crap that only burned a hole in his pocket.
said thing being you.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“the way we met wasn’t really romantic. it wasn’t like a scene out of a movie or a novel. looking back, it was quite comedic, even. i’m sure you felt the same way.”
there were a lot of terrible things that came with being a busy person, one of which you were facing right now. standing in front of a ridiculously long line at the grocery store.
you ran out of basic ingredients for cooking, it was a saturday evening, and you really did not want to order takeout again for a third time this week.
standing in front of you was a group of drunken kids — by kids you meant they were around your age, maybe in college like you — but they were different. they seemed carefree. they used their time to have fun and laugh instead of constantly grumping and punishing you with more work than you had.
you wished you could be like them, too. at least sometimes.
what made you get out of your train of thoughts was the sound of an item being placed on the conveyor belt, the rattling sounding too familiar for your liking. another person who hated cooking, so it seemed. and another person who barely had enough change to get a cup of instant noodles.
it was a man — you heard from the occasional sighs and grunts leaving his lips, and the way his cologne wafted over to invade your senses.
why did you suddenly have the urge to turn around and bond with this random stranger? perhaps hit him up with something like ‘heck, youngsters these days, right?’
absolutely not. that would be goofy as hell. and judging by how slowly the like progressed, you were likely going to stand here for at least ten more minutes. you would rather die than make a fool of yourself and then proceed to stand here for even longer afterwards.
oddly enough, the huffing stranger beat you to it. your breath hitched in your throat at the gruff voice sounding.
“s’cuse me, little lady.”
a bulky arm shot forward from behind you, making you step aside to grant him access to the side of the conveyor. you cleared your throat, turning around with an apologetic smile— and damn was he hot.
he looked quite a bit older than you, and he looked quite… distraught. sleepless, deep green eyes, unruly jet black hair that looked like he hadn’t gotten cut in a while, and a stubble gracing his jaw and chin.
you hated romanticizing people who weren’t feeling their best. so, you quickly snapped out of it.
“sorry for hogging the conveyor.” you chuckled, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere as everyone else in the line was quite angry. the man gave you a halfhearted smile, scar on the right side of his mouth stretching. you wondered how he’d gotten that scar.
“don’t worry ‘bout it,” he waved your apology off, slightly motioning at the impatient woman huffing and puffing behind him. “someone’s just very fuckin’ annoying.”
you couldn’t help but chuckle at his words. then, your eyes wandered to the conveyor, staring up to meet his again. “you can get in front of me, sir.” you offered kindly, already moving to make some space in front of you, “don’t have to wait even longer for a single item.”
the surprise in his eyes was a dead giveaway that no one had been polite or nice to him in a long time. before he could make it obvious, he shook his head, uttering, “s’fine. thanks.”
but you insisted, for some reason. it wasn’t until he was standing in front of you, cup of ramen placed in front of your groceries, and the seething woman now standing right behind you, that you were happily smiling.
the man walked off after paying for his noodles when the line finally progressed what felt like years later, not even sparing you a glance. you were barely able to contain your disappointment as you bagged your groceries and shuffled outside of the store, ready to take the train back home with full hands.
just to see the man from the line in the grocery store thumbing at the instant noodle cup’s lid, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.
his hands wordlessly approached yours to take your bags of groceries, not even frowning at the heaviness of them, as he let out a puff of cigarette smoke.
“i’ll drop ya off, little lady.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“our love was fierce. characterized by sleepless nights, stolen breaths and undying passion.”
ragged breaths filled the air of your small bedroom. it was dark, perhaps around nighttime, and the air was thick with sweat, arousals and the sinful smell of sex.
a lazy kiss was exchanged between you two with swollen, trembling lips as you settled down in each other’s arms. your eyes were shut as toji moved a little to light a cigarette.
your fingertips traced over his bare, built chest, post-orgasmic glow making his handsome face look even prettier. you were convinced he was the prettiest man you’d ever seen in your life.
“are you staying for dinner?” you asked, voice hoarse and quiet from how he had formerly railed you into your mattress. toji wasn’t a gentle lover. the word soft was very foreign to him. but you didn’t mind that. you didn’t mind him squeezing your hand too tightly whenever he held it. he didn’t know any better.
he exhaled the cigarette smoke away from you, large palm settling on the tender, bruised flesh on your hips. his thick, rough fingers traced over the softness of your skin that he had grabbed and kneaded mere minutes ago while manhandling you.
“sorry, baby,” he mumbled into your hair as you already knew what was coming, “gotta go. i’ll stay over next time, promise.”
you wanted him to stay, you really did, but with a sigh, you watched as he got dressed and left — not without pulling you into another kiss. missing the way his eyes twisted with a hint of guilt as he shut the door to your apartment behind himself.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“you weren’t a man of many words. you didn’t like talking too much about yourself. but you’d always listen to whatever i’d say. and whenever i wasn’t up to talk, we’d relish in each other’s silence. it was calming.”
“how many girlfriends have you had before me?”
the silence surrounding the air on your balcony after your question made you reconsider if it was a smart thing to ask.
it wasn’t. since when was it okay to talk about exes? you remembered it as one of the most off-putting conversation topics to ever come up with.
toji’s bare arms were propped up against the metal railing, gaze wandering from the unspectacular sight below him that consisted of old, run down buildings and sketchy streets, to you.
he knew it was too late to tell you the truth. he pressed his scarred lips together in regret, before opening his mouth to respond to your question.
“many.”
he saw the way your nose scrunched up at the ugly word — he wished it had been the truth. much better than hurting you with a fucking lie. made him wonder how you’d react to the truth.
“c’mere.” when you didn’t make a move to approach toji, he pulled you into him, dwarfing your body in his form. “you’re not mad, are you?”
“how could i ever be mad at you?”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
“there was just one thing i wish you had just told me from the beginning. you know, i actually knew the entire time. i was just waiting for you to tell me.”
“dad, the show’s about to start.”
toji was now a couple of years older, about to celebrate his fourth decade of living in a few weeks. he wouldn’t admit that he was getting older. he had just plucked another gray hair from his scalp this morning, but no one had to know that.
sock-clad feet padded from the kitchen to the living room, bowl of salted popcorn in his hand as he placed it in front of his college-aged kid. toji was in awe at how the brat was becoming more of a carbon copy of himself the more years passed.
the only difference being his spiky, wild hair and blue eyes he had gotten from his mother.
“we’re not watching a match today?” toji sounded rather bored as he leaned back on the couch with a can of soda in his hand, legs finding the surface of the living room table as the younger man munched on sweets.
megumi shook his head, eyes focused on the screen that was still playing some shampoo commercial. “have you ever heard of TATMYLB?” the green-eyed man beside him narrowed his eyes at the obnoxiously long abbreviation, .
“kid. i don’t understand your language,” he grunted, “i’m headin’ out if it’s another high school rom com.” said boy only snorted as he pointed at the tv that happened to be playing a trailer of what was going to be playing next.
“reading today… TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE’s 26th letter!” toji kissed his teeth. of course it was going to be some sappy ass show. why was it so popular anyway?
he raised from the couch, scratching his belly lazily under his sweater as he pointed to the door with his thumb. “gonna check the mail,” he uttered, “we haven’t emptied our mailbox in days.”
megumi hummed, too immersed in what today’s live episode was going to be about. just as toji approached the door, curiosity got the best of him, and he found himself listening.
“unfortunately, she won’t be joining us today, but we have received a beautifully written letter by her! what a lucky man to have been loved like this.” the host spoke gleefully as the audience erupted into cheers and applause.
“our writer is a 29 year old lady from tokyo, a journalist for a very popular newspaper, which explains her splendid writing,” the co-host added, “she has met a man she refers to as her LOST LOVE nine whole years ago.”
toji set his keys down on the shoerack and walked back to the living room. megumi took notice of his dad walking back and smirked. “caught your attention, old man?” he only scowled at his son and placed his hands on the back of the couch.
the stage was beautifully built, and one could tell how much budged was spent on it all. it was a hell lot of pink, too much for toji’s liking — then again, any amount of pink was too much for his liking. the hosts were dolled up to the max, host dressed in a baby pink, frilly dress with her hair done up while the co-host was dressed in a pink suit.
“adding on to that… we have not received an answer or a reaction from the recipient.” a glum round of oh’s echoed across the studio, which made toji snort. “which doesn’t have to mean anything, of course! perhaps he’s just terrible at checking his mail.”
megumi stopped mid-chew as he side-eyed his father, who shot him a look. “old man, you don’t think—” megumi might have been young, but he had a very good memory of his father’s past lovers. especially that one woman who had changed him forever. you.
although he had never met you, he could tell it was you who had a huge impact on his father. and he figured that toji never opened up about having had a son.
“don’t be silly, bud,” toji laughed, reaching over to steal a handful of popcorn from the bowl in his son’s lap. he didn’t even like popcorn, why the hell was he eating it? it had to be the most annoying snack in the world with how the shell of the kernels always got stuck in one’s gums or throat.
you must have moved on years ago. it’s been almost a decade, for fuck’s sake. perhaps you were married already. had kids. he hated how the thought made his jaw clench. it was none of his business anymore, after all.
“mistakes. we all make them. so far, we have had a lot of letters speaking about wrongdoings,” the host clapped her hands together, “but how about keeping secrets? crucial ones?”
of course they were going to drag it on. what a bunch of clowns the audience was for eating it up. he totally wasn’t, not with the way he was clutching the couch cushions in anticipation.
he just wanted to know it wasn’t you, so he could move on in peace. because if you have moved on, then he shall do the same.
the audience was then asked to talk about their experiences with secrets in a relationship, before they started guessing what the person might have done.
eventually, an elderly woman received the mic and laughed. “it wasn’t another woman, so,” she paused, “i’d say hiding a child.”
the two hosts opened their mouths before knowingly looking at the audience, and toji cleared his throat. by now, megumi was fully facing his father, a look of disbelief on his face. before he could speak, toji raised a palm.
“i said don’t be silly,” he warned megumi, “it’s not me. jesus.” megumi shook his head before raising his palm to invite his father to a handshake, challenging him to a bet, “fifty bucks if it’s you, then.”
toji could never say no to bets. maybe he should have checked his mailbox first, though.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
the show was halfway through, currently on a commercial break as you found yourself in the kitchen to prepare yourself a cup of instant noodles. the sight of the cup still brought you back to day you had met toji.
before you could open the lid of the cup, you were halted by the sound of your doorbell ringing. leaving behind the sounds of your kettle whistling, you approached tye door to look through the—
your hand immediately flew to the handle to fling the door open. to stare right at the man you hadn’t seen in over seven years.
there was a lot both of you wanted to say. he wanted to apologize for having disappeared out of nowhere, for having abandoned you when things had been going so well between both of you; while you wanted to slap him, cuss him out and scream at him.
alas, all that came out was a choked sob on your behalf. a sound forced out of your throat, displaying the despair you had felt out of the lack of closure.
toji watched with wide eyes as you broke down in front of him. he wanted to make you happy. or get yelled at. anything but you crying. fuck, he was terrible at this.
toji was only ever good at leaving. that’s what he had done back then when his family no longer served him; that’s what megumi’s mother had spat at him before she left.
screw the past. screw all of his fears. he had waited far too long to come clean. you didn’t deserve this at all.
“i’m sorry.” he breathed, taking a step closer, now partially surrounded by the warmth of your place that hadn’t changed in the slightest. “i hid him from you because—”
you shook your head, trembling hands raising to wipe at your reddened eyes, “i don’t give a damn, toji.” he shut his mouth, because respectfully, you had all the right to be angry.
what he didn’t expect was for you to chuckle through tears. “stop looking at me like that,” you pointed at his lips, “that stupid pout of yours…” he had a habit of pursing his lips whenever he was distressed. you hadn’t forgotten about it.
when you stepped aside to welcome toji inside, he was baffled. “‘course you didn’t read the letter,” you sneered, which made him look down grimly, “if you had, you’d know that i could never be mad at you.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
you didn’t ask toji to, but he told you everything. how he had just gotten divorced when he met you, and who had fought for split custody the entire time. who couldn’t have you over at his place because of the child’s room he had.
it wasn’t like he was ashamed to have had megumi. he considered him one of the very few good things in his life. but, he couldn’t risk scaring you off. not when he had found someone as perfect for him as you.
and when things got serious, he did what he knew best. which was to bolt.
it wasn’t a surprise to him that you already knew. he had the wrong idea of you by thinking you’d push him away just because he had a son. now he knew that you could have been the best stepmother megumi could have asked for.
if he hadn’t blown it all.
“so he’s in college now?” you were smiling as you were both situated on your couch. toji feld oddly calm looking at you. you hadn’t changed much.
“this was us at his high school graduation,” he couldn’t help but smile too as he showed you his phone wallpaper. the thought that you could have been on that picture too made your smile fade for a second before you found yourself melting at how proudly he glanced down at his son in his crinkled button-down shirt, one arm lazily slung over the boy who looked at the camera with an irritated, forced smile.
you wondered if megumi would have liked you and already accepted you as his stepmother if toji hadn’t left. wondered if you two would have been married by now—
thoughts like those were useless now.
it happened so fast. like the force of two magnets attracting each other, it felt like you were pulled towards each other. a mumbled ‘i missed you’ left your lips before they planted themselves on his, both of you getting lost in the sensation of the other’s lips.
toji’s lips tasted like salt and popcorn, whereas yours tasted of the peace of candy you had popped into your mouth while waiting for the water to boil.
ah… right. the water. the kettle had stopped whistling a while ago. but both of you were busy sucking each other’s faces to notice that.
you were sat prettily on toji’s lap, hands running across his muscles hidden by his clothes. the only sign of him having aged were the tiny wrinkles on the corners of his eyes. other than that, he still looked like the 31 year-old toji you had met in the line of the grocery store.
he was the same man you had given your heart to. and you were eager to do it all again.
your clothing was shedded in a matter of minutes, hastily and in a rush. it felt like you were being intimate with each other for the first time all over again with wide eyes and shaky hands.
toji pressed you into his chest as he slid inside of you, and it seemed like the world stopped for a while. toji didn’t do soft, he wasn’t gentle. but you could swear you saw nothing but softness and adoration in his eyes in this very moment.
once he started thrusting up into you, your hands straddled his face, fingers digging into his skin as if afraid to let go. toji saw and felt the fear in your eyes, and he took both of your hands to place soft kisses on them.
“‘m not leaving again,” he grunted, relishing in the tightness and warmth he was buried inside of, “promise.”
you whimpered, nodding as you pulled him into yet another sensual, messy kiss while you worked each other through your releases. out of all the times you and toji had sex, this had to be the rawest, most intimate time.
it wasn’t fucking. it was love-making. the kind you’d never expect from a man like toji.
he stayed inside of you after both of you came, buff arms trapping you as you listened to his slowing heartbeat as both of you trembled. neither of you wanted to move, if you could, you’d stay like this forever.
toji’s lips against your temple pulled you back from your daze, and you reached for your underwear to avoid a mess, sighing softly when he pulled out of you. “shower?” he asked, to which you nodded lazily.
before he could lift and throw you over his shoulder, you placed a kiss on his collarbone.
“let’s eat instant noodles and rewatch the episode after that. since you haven’t read the letter—”
oh, toji was never going to hear the end of this.
but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji smut#toji x reader#jjk toji x reader#toji x reader smut#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji zenin x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji zenin#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk angst#jjk fluff#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader smut
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— Morning Monologue
pairing : Dad!Gojo satoru x reader
synopsis : The comedic chaos of parenthood unfolds as Gojo Satoru rambles on about his dreams for his baby in the early morning light. While Gojo’s enthusiastic monologues flow freely, his little one’s unimpressed expressions provide a humorous contrast.
warnings : nothing just fluff
sierra speaks : based on DDG and Halo cause they’re tooo funny 😭😭
It was barely dawn, sunlight creeping through the curtains, and the entire apartment was quiet, except for Satoru, who was wide awake and talking non-stop. Lounging in bed, his snow like hair messy from sleep, but his voice still full of his typical upbeat energy, as he rambled on and on to his tiny baby cradled in his arms.
“You know, being the strongest sorcerer in the world is kinda like being the best dad,” He mused, staring at his baby’s wide eyes. “No pressure, just perfection in every department. You’re lucky, you’ve got me to show you the ropes. Infinite Void? You’ll be a natural.”
Your baby, still too young to even comprehend the wild words flying over his tiny head — looked up at him, blinking, seemingly processing none of it. Instead, his expression was... well, let’s say less than impressed.
You were laying on the other side of the bed, half-asleep, but listening to this morning monologue unfold. It was a regular occurrence at this point — Gojo waking up, deciding that 6AM was the perfect time for his fatherly wisdom. The baby had no choice but to listen, a captive audience to Gojo’s self-proclaimed brilliance.
“And you’re gonna have the coolest techniques, just like me. You’ll have all the girls! well, maybe not all the girls yet, 'cause you know, I’m taken,” he said with a wink in your direction. You let out a soft snore to pretend you were asleep, hoping to dodge the goofiness. Gojo chuckled before turning back to the baby. “But anyway, you’re gonna be the coolest kid in Jujutsu society. And don’t get me started on that hair, everyone’s gonna love it. You got my genes, so we’re basically unbeatable.”
The baby squirmed, still half-listening. But then, there it was; the moment you'd been waiting for: Your baby gave his father the dirtiest side-eye you had ever seen. Even at this young age, your baby had inherited the sass. The look was a mixture of annoyance and “can you not?” — like he was silently begging for some peace.
Gojo froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening in mock horror. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?” he said, feigning heartbreak. “You’re already tired of me? My own flesh and blood? I see how it is. Fine, I’ll just,” He dramatically rolled over to the other side of the bed, away from the baby. “I’ll be over here, not talking, since apparently I’m too much for my own child.”
The room was silent for a beat, until you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You burst out laughing, turning over to face them. “Gojo, if you don’t leave my baby alone.”
Gojo rolled back toward you, grinning that signature smile, like he knew exactly what he was doing all along. “Just trying to pass down some of my legendary wisdom. Can’t help it if my kid’s a little too young to appreciate it.”
You shook your head, still laughing. “He’s not even a year old, Satoru. Give him a break.”
Gojo smirked, leaning in to give the baby a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Alright, fine. I’ll save the life lessons for later. But just wait till he’s old enough to understand, then he’s in for it.”
You smiled, watching them both. Even though Gojo’s constant chatter could be a lot — especially so early in the morning; there was something endearing about it. He was fully committed to this dad thing, and even when the baby wasn’t feeling it, Gojo made sure to bring the fun, every single time.
#🖋️ sierra writes#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk spoilers#jjk fanart#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jujutsu gojo#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu satoru#jjk satoru#satoru x you#tendou satori#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satorugojo#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu kaisen
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Not the episode where Poof just suddenly decided that he had enough and went over to the emo dark phase, teaming up with Foop just to bully Crocker and beat him to death 💀
I like that Poof just started to beat up his own dad and then swearing in front of his mother.
Uuhh Peri was a little quirky as a child.
Goofy uuuh baby
Poof becoming a threat to all of humanity is now true.
Foop was so happy rn 😭
Also, in the first picture Poof has a dark colored crown. You could say it's an animation error, but damn.. What if this is true and if fairy become more bad then they become more like their anti versions.
I want to see how in the new wish Peri would also team up with Irep in a similar way and start causing chaos with him together ☺️
#fairly oddparents#fop#fairly odd parents a new wish#fop new wish#fop poof#fop peri#fop foop#fop irep#peri fairywinkle cosma#fop cosmo#cosmo cosma#fop wanda#wanda fairywinkle cosma#fop crocker#mr crocker#“it’s not a phase mom!
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Hi there! I would like a request a OS about Peter B Parker x Fem! Reader as a married couple Smut (Reader is Mayday's mother). The Reader is like Starfire (An alien superheroine and a beautiful hot like fire (literally, since her powers comes from the sun) person married to a human) Like Malewife and Girlboss...So when Peter comes home, she's taking care of her daughter meanwhile he was on patrol, so she put her daughter on bed time. She wants to have a night of "fun" with her husband. Taking good care of him with a bath and a dinner so then the "fun" can come. With a purple robe and a sexy lavender lingerie. I can leave the smut part to you with some recommendations Lactation Kink, Praise kink, "Mommy" kink, Oral (Female and male receiving), Creampie, maybe 69 position...
Take good care 🥰
Early Nights Off;;
A/N: Dude, I am literally blowing you kisses and hugging you platonically through my laptop rn. I was smiling and kicking my feet when I saw that you nearly instantly sent me a request for Peter. I am so in love with him, I love my silly goofy DILFs hehe. I have never written for a lactation kink before so I will not be doing that as I do not know how and Idk how comfortable I am with it LMAO I will try and interoperate the rest into this for you though. Thank you again, literally my savior for my brain rot rn. HE IS SO MALEWIFE THOUGH, YOU ARE SO REAL. I hope this is good enough, this is my first Peter fic haha.
Warnings: Breeding Kink (I just know he has one after Mayday.), Praise Kink, "Mommy" Kink sort of?, Oral (F and M Receiving), Creampie (Wrap it before you tap it guys), Reader is an alien (Not proofread, sorry lmao)
Any other day it would be easy for Peter to patrol the city all night. Even if the crime activity was little to nothing. He could spend all day and night swinging from building to building. It beat sitting at home with nothing to do.
Except now he had a reason to be home. Even before the two of you had Mayday, and it was just you. He found himself crawling through the window of your shared apartment earlier and earlier each night. You were his weakness, and he was never ashamed to admit it.
After you gave him his first kid though. There were some nights that he wouldn't go out at all. Too enraptured by baby Mayday to even think about leaving your cozy home. Playing with the baby. Watching you nurture and care for her. Being a dad was something he enjoyed a lot more than he ever thought he would. He had Miles to thank for breaking his fear of kids.
Tonight was one of his early nights. Calling it quits after all he found for crime activity was a man robbing a woman of her purse. Cliché and typical, but he put a stop to it nonetheless. Getting the woman's purse back while also tying the attacker up in front of the New York Police Department with a letter attached to him.
'Caught him robbing a lady, you're welcome. - Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.'
He wondered if they ever actually took in and charged the people he left on their doorstep like that. Or if they simply untied them and let them run because they had no proof they actually did anything wrong? That was a question for another time, though. Right now he was focused on opening the bedroom window. Crawling in and shutting it behind him to keep the muggy air outside from entering the room.
He was quick to take the suit off. Figuring he wouldn't need it for the rest of the night. Pulling a grey shirt on that hung on the side of the bed. Keeping only his boxers on to allow his body to cool down from the warmer conditions outside.
You were in the living room. Comfortable pajamas on while you lulled Mayday to sleep in your arms. A soft hum leaving your throat as you rocked her back and forth. He had to stop and watch for a while. Leaning against the door frame that led him from your shared room to the living room.
"You're back early," you cooed. At times he wished you didn't have the ability to sense him like he could you. It was nice sometimes, though. Not at times that he wanted to just sit and watch you mother his baby.
"I missed my beautiful girls," he murmured, that smug smile gracing his features. You were glad to have looked up and seen it.
"Well, I just fed her and got her to sleep." you informed, and he nodded. Licking his lips while his eyes raked over you. Practically undressing you and imagining all the things he could do to you right now. It had been so long since the two of you had any time to each other. That seemed to be one of the few, if not only down falls to being parents. Sex felt scarce, but that didn't mean it was totally absent from your lives.
"I think I might shower while you lay her down," he spoke, shifting his feet as he went to turn back for the bathroom down the hall. "Or I could run you a bath while I make you something to eat?" you offered and he just couldn't say no.
He smiled, nodding his head while staring you down. So much love and adoration was in his eyes. He was perfect. Mayday was perfect. You were perfect.
"What man could say no to that offer?" He snickered, to which you rolled your eyes. Smiling fondly at your husband while you stood to your feet. Kissing his cheek when you made it over to him. "I'll get that bath running then," you hummed. Heading for Maydays room to put her to bed. Shutting the door behind you before you scurried off for the bathroom. Swaying your hips a little more than normal since you knew he was staring.
He was, too. His eyes eating you up like candy while they took in your form. God, he could eat you alive.
The water was the perfect temperature. The soaps that you put in it had him melting into the atmosphere. Everything was perfect. He couldn't ask for anything better. When you came walking in with food, and that skimpy bathrobe that drove him crazy. He was certain you were praying on his downfall.
"You spoil me," he told you as he took a plate from your hand. Watching as you sat on the edge of the tub with your own plate in hand. The both of you eating together. Peter a little more eager than you. He loved his food.
"Only because you spoil me in return," you grinned. He raised a questioning brow. Taking a bite of the Mac and Cheese that you warmed up from the night before. "How? I don't make enough money to spoil you. You spoil me more that I do you, and it's a little unfair," he pouted a bit. He hated the fact that he couldn't spoil you like he wanted to, but you never seemed to mind. Everything was fine the way it was.
"You find your ways, Pete," you hummed as you put your plate on the sink counter. Climbing off the tub so you could kneel on the floor next to the tub. His eyes were glued to yours. A questioning glint to them that begged for you to explain further.
"You don't need money to spoil someone. You pamper me with little things. Like your affection and how romantic you can be," you smiled, because he truly was a sap. He loved spending nights cuddling with you. Kissing over your body while reminding you how beautiful you were. Praising you for carrying his baby. Your baby. Making dinner for you on the nights that you couldn't bring yourself to. Or simply taking you and Mayday to the park to get some ice-cream and be a family.
"If it weren't for you, I probably would have never had little Mayday, either," you admitted, and he raised a brow. "Really?" He questioned, and you nodded.
"I never really wanted kids. Not until we started dating. You made me realize that I don't need to be scared of that sort of commitment ever again. You gave me a beautiful daughter," he felt his heart racing at your words. "I never really wanted a kid before you, either. It scared me, being a superhero and all." You both chuckled at that. Staring at one another for a moment or two.
"I guess we both spoiled each other in that department," you told him, and he nodded. "Guess so."
When Peter and yourself finally finished eating, that's when you helped him wash his hair. Something that he was going to do himself, but when you offered to do so. He just laid back and let you.
Your fingers pulled through his hair. Nails scratching his scalp just right while you spread the shampoo. A soft moan leaving his lips while his eyes fell shut. It had you smiling to yourself. Biting your bottom lip to try and keep it from growing any wider.
You leaned in to press a kiss to his shoulder. Your hands trailing down his chest while you leaned in closer to his ear. Peter's eyes opening when he felt your breath on his ear. His eyes trailing down to your chest. Catching a glimpse of the lavender bra under your bathrobe. The thought of you in lingerie had him grunting. His cock twitching to life under the water. It had been too long since the two of you had done anything like this. Something that wasn't a quickie before he left for work after his lunch break, while Mayday was down for her afternoon nap.
"God, I love you so much," he muttered, and you giggled. Pressing a kiss to his temple. "Scoot down so I can wash your hair out, goofball," you teased, and he felt his heart thumping. "Yes Ma'am."
Once his hair was all washed it was time for him to call it a night. Eyes begging for you to take him to the bedroom so you could both fuck like rabbits. Before Mayday that's what it felt like you two were. Primal Animals that only knew how to fuck or make love. Whatever mood Peter was in that night deciphered how he screwed you.
Tonight he wanted to pamper you. To really spoil you since he knew you planned to do the same to him. Gosh, "I'd do anything to be between those thighs," He murmured out loud. A dumbstruck look on his face. He hadn't even noticed he said it out loud, and you knew it. A giggle escaping your lips while you leaned forward. Ghosting your lips over his. "Not if I'm between yours first," you cooed, and he shuddered.
His face was a slight red out of embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say that to you out loud, but it wouldn't be the first lewd thing he'd ever said to you. Peter was fairly good at telling you what he wanted and how he wanted to do it. The more lust filled he got, the less of a sensor he had.
It was like a race for the both of you. Peter standing from the tub while flicking the switch so the water would drain. Scrambling out of it while you laughed and giggled with him. The both of you doing your best to be quiet so Mayday wouldn't wake up.
You ran for the bedroom. Feet pattering against the wooden floor while he did the same. Shutting the door behind himself before he pulled you in for a kiss that he craved. One that you both craved, really.
"I know you're wearing it," he spoke against your lips. Pulling the string of your bath robe so it would fall open. He was quick to pull back so he could see your frame better. "You still like it?" You asked, and he was quick to nod. His fingers running up your sides to your breasts. Giving them both a light squeeze with a groan. "Baby, I never want you to take it off," he chuckled, and you both knew that was a lie. By the end of the night he'd have it ripped off you and in a pile on the floor.
His lips came in contact with your neck. Fiery touches that you would never get used to. Your own powers were controlled by the sun, yet this heat was always so unfamiliar to you. So nice.
"Peter," you sighed as he sucked on your skin. Your body jolting when his fingers pinched your nipples through your bra. "You're so gorgeous, you know that?" He asked against your skin. Licking over your collar bone. You chuckled with a nod, "You tell me all the time," "Yeah, well I don't say it damn near enough." You rolled your eyes at his comment, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "Yeah, and I don't tell you how good of a boy you are for me enough, either," he let out a grumble of a moan against your skin. It was so easy to rile him up, you loved it.
"May I?" You asked, ghosting your fingertips over his shaft, and he nodded. "Words, Peter," you demanded, and he shuddered. "Yes... Yeah, please," he mewled, and you snickered. He was already a mess.
You shrugged the robe off, allowing it to fall to the floor to give his hands more access to your skin. Your hand quick to reach between your lovers legs and grab him. Giving him a slow stroke before stopping to squeeze the base. His head fell onto your shoulder. A sigh leaving his lips while he gripped your hips.
"I need you," he called, "God, I need you so bad, don't tease me," he cried a little, and you had half a mind to listen, but you didn't want to. You had other plans for the night. You wanted to draw out this time you both had together for as long as you could.
"No," you purred, and the whine that he let out was heavenly. "Now, don't pout, Petey," you purred, "be a good boy for me and I'll reward you," he nodded frantically. He just wanted you to carry on and do something. Anything.
When you started to drop to your knees he felt his heart stutter in his chest. Everywhere your hands grazed as you slid down to the floor was on fire. At this point he couldn't tell if it was from his excitement, or if you were doing it yourself.
Your hand stroked his shaft a couple more times. Peter watching with excited eyes. His thighs shaking while he fought the urge to thrust forward.
"You can touch me, Peter," you told him, and he nodded. His shaky hands coming to tangle in your hair. One staying on the top of your head while the other came to cup the side of your face.
"Will you be good?" You asked, and he nodded. "I know you will," you hummed, kissing his hip. Listening to the moan that left his throat just from having your lips so close to where he wanted you the most. He craved you to the point that it hurt.
When you did finally reach his cock, the noise he made was unreal. Your eyes darting up to his with warning. One of his hands shot up to cover his mouth. A soft 'sorry, my love,' falling from his lips. He truly didn't mean to be as loud as he was. He could never help it. He prayed that one day the two of you could find a babysitter for Mayday so neither of you had to hold back as much as you both did.
Your head bobbed and he felt his knees shaking all ready. His brow knitting together while his chest began to heave. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were like an angel. On your knees, committing sin. The thought made him shudder. A hum rumbling from his chest while his head lolled to the side. "Feels so... Good," he purred, and you hummed in response. The vibration sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Both hands shooting to the top of your head so he could stable himself. His mouth slightly parted while his vision grew blurry from the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.
"God, like that, shit," he spewed out words. You knew he was close, even if you couldn't sense it like he could sense your own approaching orgasms. You would know from how many times you've made him cum in your relationship.
You didn't allow him to, though. Another groan leaving his lips while he buckled forward. His hips thrusting forward a little in an attempt to chase your mouth. "Dammit, I was so close," he slurred, and you chuckled. Leaving an open mouthed kiss on the side of his cock. "I know, and you did so good for me baby," you purred, and he whined. He had such mixed feelings for your praising tease. He loved it, but he also despised it.
"How about I reward you now?" You asked, looking up to your lover with a grin. He was quick to nod in agreement. Licking his lips while he waited anxiously for what you had to say next.
"You wanna fill me up tonight?" "You have no idea," he practically growled. The sound of his voice. The switch from whiny to damn near feral. It went straight to your core. Your breath hitching as he helped pull you to your feet. Pushing you back until you were on the bed.
He fell on top of you. Caging your body with his own. Something seemed to snap in his eyes and it excited you more than taking control over him. It wasn't often that you let him be in complete control, but right now. All you could think of is what he had said in the tub.
"You still want your head between my thighs?" You asked, and his eyes were quick to meet yours again. A smirk pulling at his lips while he stared down at you. "I'd live there if I could, baby," you both chuckled a little at this, but you both knew it was true, too. There were some mornings that you'd wake up to his head between your thighs. Eating you like you were his last meal on earth. He'd just give you head if you'd let him. He never really expected anything in return from you.
He lips crashed down onto yours. A kiss that had you both gasping for air when he was done. Teeth on teeth that led to his tongue exploring your mouth.
His hands were on their own mission. Scaling your body. Taking in every dip and curve that you had. Memorizing you like he did every other time he touched you. If he didn't have any other responsibilities, he could stay in this position with you forever. Touching your body while kissing you with fervor.
One of his hands cupped your breast. The other resting on your thigh. His lips finally parting from yours with a string of saliva still connecting you both. A smug and dreamy smile on his face. "I love you," he hummed, and you giggled. "I love you, too," you told him, and his smile grew. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you.
His lips trailed over the top of your breasts. Kissing and sucking. Leaving little marks on the soft skin. His hand on your thigh sliding up your body so he could take both of your breasts in his hands. Squeezing and toying with your sensitive mounds of flesh. Your back arching with soft noises that left your throat. Every sound that you made only fed his ego more than it did before.
His mouth replaced one of his hands. Mouthing over the thin fabric that his your nipples from the air. Saliva wetting your skin through the fabric. A sharp inhale coming from you when he nipped your sensitive skin. Your fingers gripping his shoulders while he teased your body. He knew what drove you crazy. Just like you knew what drove him crazy.
His free hand trailed down to your panties. His hand cupping your sex with a moan. He could feel how hot you were down there and it drove him wild. His middle and index finger running over your mound. Feeling how wet you were through the fabric of the lingerie. It was intoxicating him. Just as much as his touch was intoxicating you.
His mouth switched over to your other breast. Biting the flesh while he pushed your panties to the side to slip his middle finger inside of you. A gasp leaving your throat while you tugged at his hair. "Pete!" you snapped, and he grunted, "'M sorry, you're just so good," he moaned against your skin. His now free hand reaching behind you to undo the bra that kept him from your bare skin. Gibing him the chance to abuse your nipples without the fabric in the way. Though, it didn't last long before his mouth was trailing down your stomach. Leaving wet kisses on his way down.
Once he met your clothed sex with his face he felt himself growing impatient. Nudging your clothed clit with his nose. "You're so pretty like this," he sounded drunk. He practically was. Anytime he had sex he was. He was intoxicated by you. You were his perfect drug.
His fingers hooked your underwear. Pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. Peter blew on your sex. Keeping your legs apart with his strong grip. "Stay still for me, please," he asked, looking up with pleading eyes. Though there was a hint of command behind them that had you clenching around nothing. You only nodded your head in agreement, which had him smiling.
He was quick to get to work. Licking up your slit. Your breath hitching while your fingers tangled in his hair. His hips bucking down into the bed to try and gather some sort of friction for himself.
He licked at your sensitive bud. Licking and sucking until you were squirming and on the verge of tears. Biting the back of your hand to hold back the cries that tried to bleed from your mouth.
"Taste so good," he rambled. Reaching a hand down to push two fingers inside you. Curling them up, then dragging them out. Slipping the digits past his lips to take a taste. Moaning around his fingers before slipping them out. "Heavenly," he sighed, before diving in once again. Lapping you up like a dog.
It wasn't long before you were summing on his tongue. You told him you were close, but he knew. Only abusing your clit until you were convulsing underneath him. If it weren't for you pushing his head away, he would have made you cum again, too.
"Peter, please," you cried, and he looked up from between your legs. "Just one more time," he tried to plea. Leaning down to lick your clit again. Your body jolting at the overstimulating feeling. "Peter, if you aren't inside me in the next ten seconds I swear to God," you snapped, and he smirked. "All right, all right," he chuckled, kissing your stomach before pulling himself up so he was positioned between your thighs.
He moved above you for a moment or two. Just staring down at you with those adoring eyes. You hated how he looked at you sometimes. It made your heart ache and wish that you had met him sooner than you had. He always made you feel so special and so loved.
"I want another kid," he blurted, "Maybe a little boy, he could have your eyes," he daydreamed out loud, and you nearly laughed. Yet, you couldn't. You only stared back up at him. Hearts practically in your eyes while you reached up to cup the sides of his face. "Only if he has your smile," he chuckled at your words. Leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his. "Is that a yes to baby number two?" He snickered, reaching down to rub your stomach. He was obsessed with you, and he couldn't get over the thought of you carrying another one of his kids. He was already crazy for you, but seeing you pregnant with his child? It did things to him, and you knew it, too. He wasn't shy about it.
"You like being a mommy?" He hummed, and you nodded, "Only for you," you chuckled, and he snickered. "You're a good one too. So loving, caring, rewarding," he winked with the last word, and you rolled your eyes. Swatting his chest. "Peter," he shrugged. "You are, I'm glad you are, too. Mommy. It's a good title for you," He cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.
"Peter, it's been over ten seconds," you reminded him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Bringing your hips up to meet his. The both of you shuddering at the friction. "All right," he sighed out, but instead of pressing himself inside of you like you wanted. He pulled away from you. A frown settling on your lips. "What?" "Hands and knees, now," you stared for a second. It never ceased to surprise you when he ordered you around, but you never really complained about it either.
Once you were maneuvered around he was quick to pull you closer to him by your hips. Leaning down to kiss the dip of your back. "Gonna fill you full," he murmured against your skin, rubbing the tip of his dick along the slit of your sex.
"Shit, Peter," you wined, leaning down to lay the side of your face on the bed. Peter let out a moan at the position you put yourself in. Ass in the air, face in the sheets. You were gorgeous.
He hushed you, biting his lip while putting his fingers against your lips. You sucked them into your mouth and he swore it was one of the hottest things you've done.
When he pressed inside of you, you both fought to stay quiet. Peter was practically falling apart above you. The thought of fucking a baby into you had him harder than he had expected. His hips giving a few testing rolls to make sure you were wet enough. Only moving when you gave a nod.
His thrusts were slow at first. Rolling against you with rhythm. Until they weren't. Until you begged him to move fasted and he had to listen to you.
Both of his hands were on your hips now. His own hips thrusting in and out of you at a past that had your whole body trembling. You pawed and gripped at the sheets. One of his hands keeping hold of your hip while the other reached for one of your hands. Intertwining his fingers with your own. Even while he was fucking you dumb he showed so much affection for you. It was almost overwhelming.
Peter leant over you. Pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade while he panted and moaned in your ear. The sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. The faster he got the further you got smothered into the bed. He was chasing that high that the both of you craved. When he felt his approaching, he was quick to reach between your thighs to rub your clit with the speed of his thrusts. Bringing the both of you to the highs that you desired. His hips slowing while he rolled out his orgasm and rubbed out your own.
Peter lay limp above you. His chest heaving on top of your back. One hand running up and down your side while the other squeezed and rubbed at your hand.
"One more?" He asked, and you chuckled. "Your libido's too high for your own good, Peter," you sighed, and he chuckled. Pulling out of you which caused the both of you to groan with distaste. "I'm not hearing a no?" He questioned with a brow raised. Helping you roll onto your back. "One more," you told him with a nod, and he grinned. "Maybe two?" "Pete, don't push it," you giggled, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. Peter laughing into the kiss he gave you.
#peter b parker x reader#peter b parker#peter b parker smut#spiderman#the amazing spiderman smut#the amazing spider man#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#marvel#marvel smut#minors dni#notsfw
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sweet child o’mine - e.m.
eddie munson x pregnant fem reader
warnings: none, just some tooth rotting fluff
a/n: in honor of father’s day, here is a little repost of an old blurb of mine. enjoy xx.
Lazy sunday’s with Eddie were always your favorite.
He didn’t have to go in to work at the shop with Wayne, the cars could wait for a day. He had been picking up more hours lately, due to the little miracle you were growing in your belly. Eddie was so concerned about having everything you both needed that he was going a little overboard.
Or as Wayne so lovingly liked to call them, new dad jitters. So you didn’t get to see him as often as you’d like, but sunday would always be your day together. The tv was on the in background, re-runs of an old show neither of you were watching. He was currently sitting in the la-z-boy recliner in your living room, guitar perched on his lap.
You were sprawled out on the sofa, watching him fondly as he played around with the chords. Eddie wasn’t playing anything specific, just singing quietly as he attempted to work out this new melody floating around in his head. Your hands were resting lightly over your bump, tapping along to the beat when you felt it.
A little kick.
You sit up immediately, gasping in surprise. Eddie’s head snaps up, nearly dropping the guitar in his rush to get to you, concern lacing his features. But he is relieved when he sees you smiling, kneeling next to you on the sofa.
“They kicked,” you hum as you gently grab his hand and slide it beneath your sweater, placing it on your bump. But the kicking had stopped, much to both of your disappointment.
“Come on little one, do it again,” Eddie pleads softly to your belly, causing you to giggle.
You run your fingers through his shaggy curls as the other caresses over the back of his hand that was still resting on your bump.
“Can you sing for us, Ed? See if they’ll kick again?”
Your boyfriend just grins, nodding as he starts humming the opening chords to Sweet Child O’Mine. He keeps his palm resting on your belly, knotting your fingers together with the other.
“She's got a smile that, it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories. Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky…”
His voice is soft, husky as he sings right to your baby bump. The moment is so sweet it brings tears to your eyes. He stops once he hears your soft sniffles, but you nod for him to continue. Eddie just smiles that goofy grin you adore, pressing a kiss to your joined hands before continuing.
“Now and then when I see her face, she takes me away to that special place. And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry…”
The tears are steadily rolling down your cheeks now, as you feel another small kick. It surprises you both, but soon a look of absolute wonder crosses over his features. You can tell just how much this moment means to him as the tears begin to fill his waterline and slip down his cheeks. Eddie gently wipes them away with the sleeve of his shirt before he rests his head on your belly.
“Whoa, oh, oh… sweet child o' mine. Whoa, oh, oh, oh… sweet love of mine.”
Another kick, but this time it seems to hit him right in the cheek. Eddie looks a little shocked and the both of you burst into a fit of giggles as his warm palm caresses the area once more. He lifts his head then, chocolate hues flicking up to meet yours.
You’ve never seen him look so happy.
“Sorry little one… daddy’s big head was in the way,” his tone is teasing as his nose nudges the swell of your tummy.
You can’t help but giggle again, motioning him over to press a soft kiss to his lips. He does so without hesitation, kissing you sweetly before he leans his forehead against yours.
“You’re gonna be such a good dad, baby…” you hum, unable to keep the emotion from your voice. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”
#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x pregnant!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson one shot#dad!eddie munson x fem!reader#dad!eddie munson#[ the munson files: blurb ]#[ the munson files ]
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Kickstart My Heart
Ted "Theodore" Logan X fem!reader genre : one shot - fluff warnings : english isn't my first language. Enjoy !
The record store was quiet, with no customers this early evening. The music playing softly through the store speakers was Dangerous - Shark Island. You blinked, trying to shake off the usual fatigue that crept in at the end of your day. Your gaze landed on Ted’s goofy smile—the one that always gave you butterflies. You’d grown so attached to him over the years, his unshakable optimism like a beacon. His sunny personality had always lifted your spirits, no matter how tough things got.
You missed him more and more now that he, Bill, and you had graduated high school and ventured into your respective lives.
“How’s work going?” you asked softly, tilting your head slightly. His honey-brown eyes sparkled with excitement as he studied your face, his enthusiasm shining through.
“Totally awesome, dudette! College? Not really my vibe, y’know... I’d much rather be here. Way more excellent!”
He ran a hand through his messy dark hair, his trademark grin plastered on his face. You knew music was his life, even though his dad had never approved it. These days, Ted shares an apartment in San Dimas with Bill. Briefly, you wondered if he still had a strained relationship with his father. Of course, you didn’t dare ask. It was a sore subject, and you didn’t want to dredge up painful memories. You’d seen him defeated enough times in high school, back when his dad used to threaten to send him to the military.
“It’s cool that you’re here,” he added, shifting topics with his usual enthusiasm. “I’ve got a late shift tonight—like, really late. But hey, at least it gives me time to spin some killer records and check out non-heinous releases!”
You noticed his shoulders were a bit more muscular than they’d been in high school, and you wondered briefly if he worked out now. Physically, there had been small changes, but mentally? He was still the same Ted—the goofy, happy guy you’d always known. Sometimes, you wished you could be more like him. You, with your overthinking and constant worries, envied his carefree approach to life. Ted tackled problems with a lightness that disarmed you, while you often let your worries weigh you down. Being Ted seemed so much simpler. Maybe even freer.
“I’m glad you still enjoy the job. Are there many customers during the day?”
“Depends on the day,” he replied, setting a Scatterbrain - Here Comes Trouble vinyl on the counter and absentmindedly running his fingers over the cover. “But weekends? Totally triumphant—you wouldn’t believe it!”
He finally looked up at you, his honey-colored eyes gleaming with sincere curiosity. “What about you? Still with the bookshop, or did you find something even most excellent?”
You shook your head slightly, pulling yourself back to the moment as his sparkling gaze met yours. He twirled the record in his hands before gently placing it on the counter. You were deep down gushing about how adorable he was.
“Yeah, still working at that bookshop. But… I think what makes my day really great is coming here and seeing you sometimes. You make everything feel so much lighter, Ted.”
For a moment, Ted seemed surprised by your words, but then his grin widened even further, lighting up his entire face. “Whoa, for real? Thanks, dudette. You’re, like, totally righteous.”
He spun another vinyl, Motley Crüe’s -Kickstart My Heart song blasted through the speakers. He nodded toward you.
“Check this out. Isn’t it totally triumphant?”
You stepped closer, leaning in slightly to hear better, and your shoulders brushed. Your heart skipped a beat. But Ted, being Ted, didn’t seem to notice your nervousness. He turned to you and murmured like he was sharing a secret.
“This is, like, my all-time favorite song. It always makes me feel like everything’s gonna be okay.”
Of course, your crush on Ted wasn’t new. Elizabeth had beaten you to it back in high school, and the two had dated right in front of you. You’d done your best to hide the pain all these years. It was hard. Bill had told you a few months ago that they’d broken up. You weren’t sure what had happened between them…
You took a step closer to look at the vinyl he held, and your fingers brushed lightly against his. A shiver ran through you, but Ted, ever oblivious, just smiled wider, like everything was perfectly normal. Meanwhile, you felt… different, a little lost in that closeness.
Ted leaned forward to adjust the music volume, and suddenly, there was no space between your bodies. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the familiar apple scent of his shampoo on his dark strands, and your heart began to race.
When he straightened, his eyes met yours, a new glimmer in his gaze.
“Wanna see another vinyl? I’ve got something super excellent to show you.”
You couldn’t seem to find your voice, your breath hitching slightly. Was it the music, the closeness, or just Ted himself making your heart pound so hard? “Y-yeah, show me,” you stammered, feeling like an absolute idiot, your eyes locked on his.
Ted spun another vinyl, and Skid Row-Psycho Therapy song boomed through the speakers.
“So, what do you think, dudette? Isn’t it, like, totally excellent?” he asked, nodding along with the beat, his messy hair bouncing with the movement.
“Yeah, it’s… really good,” you replied, smiling, though you weren’t paying much attention to the music. You were too aware of Ted’s presence next to you.
He leaned on the counter beside you, and suddenly, as if struck by a brilliant idea, he jumped up. “Oh, wait! I’ve got something super awesome!”
You watched as he rummaged under the counter, his usual clumsiness sending objects clattering. Finally, he emerged with an old acoustic guitar, a little battered.
“See this? My secret weapon for when the store’s too quiet. Bill says I shouldn’t play it here, but hey, he’s not around, right?” he added with a conspiratorial grin.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you gonna play something now?”
Ted squinted, exaggerating a look of seriousness. “Is that a question, or, like, a challenge?”
“A bit of both,” you replied, crossing your arms with a teasing smile.
“Alright, brace yourself. I’m gonna play… uh…” He paused, glancing densely at the guitar. “I don’t know what yet. But don’t worry—it’s gonna be awesome!”
He strummed a few clumsy chords, but his beaming grin made the whole scene so endearing that you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. Between two off-key notes, he looked up at you.
“Okay, maybe it’s not exactly most excellent, but… it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“Definitely. I’d say you’ve got a unique style, Ted. Like very… Ted-esque.”
He paused mid-strum, tilting his head with a mock pout.
“Unique, huh? Is that your way of saying I’m bad?”
“No! It means you’re… you,” you said softly, your laughter fading as your gaze met his twinkling eyes.
He set the guitar down, the silence returning, broken only by the faint crackle of the speakers. This time, he didn’t step away.
“You know,” he said, his voice lower now, “we’ve known each other for, like, forever. But sometimes, I feel like there’s so much I don’t get…”
“Like what?” you asked after a silence, your breath catching slightly.
Ted shrugged, hesitating, and for once, his usual grin faltered. “Like… you. What you’re thinking...Sometimes you get this look… like, right now.”
“What kind of look?” you asked, swallowing hard.
“I don’t know babe,” he admitted, adorably awkward, his eyes searching yours. “A look that makes me wanna do… this.”
Did he just call you babe!?
He leaned in slightly but stopped, doubt flickering in his eyes. You could almost feel his breath, yet he didn’t move closer. “But I don’t wanna mess things up between us. You’re, like, super important to me…”
“It’s not weird,” you whispered, your voice warm as your hand brushed his. “It’s just… you.”
Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the gap, brushing a soft, tentative kiss against his lips. The moment was gentle, hesitant, and wonderfully awkward.
Ted froze for a second as if trying to process what had just happened. Then he pulled back slightly, his cheeks red.
“Whoa,” he said, touching his lips briefly. “That was like… totally excellent.”
You chuckled softly, your heart still racing. He nodded enthusiastically, his messy hair adding to his boyish charm.
“… Does this mean we’re, like, the heroes of our own epic adventure now?”
“Maybe,” you replied, your sly smile barely hiding your own nervous excitement. “But in this adventure, you’d definitely be the bard playing questionable chords to distract the dragons.”
“Woah,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Okay, fair point dudette. But hey, with my legendary music, I’ll totally protect both of us!”
He looked at you for a moment and gently placed his hand over yours, his expression almost hesitant.
“Thanks for coming tonight. I know I’m not the coolest or most excellent dude, but… you make everything so much better.”
“You don’t have to be impressive, Ted. You’re already you, and that’s more than enough,” you replied softly, your tone reassuring.
He gazed at you, his grin softening into something more tender. Then, as if deciding something important, he jumped up.
“Alright, it’s official! Next time, we’re going on a real epic adventure! With dragons. And magical records. But first, we’re finishing tonight with another non-heinous song.”
As he searched for the next track, you leaned back against the counter, your heart feeling lighter, basking in the warmth of the moment you had just shared, your cheeks flushed with a soft pink hue.
#im seriously simping for this man😭😭😭😭😭#i love ted so much i need to be put down#self indulgent reader insert can you blame me#started writing it yesterday and finished it at work lol#did some research on the bill and ted vocabulary too#ted logan#husband#keanu reeves#bill and ted#my writing#reader insert#fanfic#ted theodore logan#ted logan x reader#bill & ted#one shot#keanuverse
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(Percy Jackson x reader)
Shiny like the ocean
Warnings: None! Super cute story about you and Percy wanting to be parents and then becoming parents. Lmk if you want another part with the baby making, but I'm like a fresh writer, so I didn't want that to be my first impression!
"You know," Percy began, his voice casual but with that unmistakable gleam in his eyes. "I've been thinking."
You glanced up from the book you were reading, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? This should be good," you teased, half-smiling, knowing full well that when Percy Jackson got that look, you were in for something unexpected.
Percy's grin widened, clearly pleased with your response. "What do you think about having a kid?"
Your heart skipped a beat, and you suddenly found your fingers twirling absentmindedly around the edge of the book. "A kid?" you echoed, trying to sound nonchalant, but the truth was, you weren't sure how to respond. You'd always imagined this kind of conversation would come up eventually—but now that it had, it felt like your words were stuck somewhere deep inside.
Percy, sensing your hesitation, leant forward on the couch, his voice softening. "I know we’ve talked about it before, but... I just really think we’d be great parents." He was already smiling that goofy, hopeful grin, the one you couldn’t resist even if you tried. "We’d make an awesome team, you know?"
You could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks as you looked anywhere but at him. The idea of having a child, a little one to take care of, to love... It was terrifying and exciting all at once. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that kind of responsibility, but Percy was always so sure about things, and it made you want to believe it too.
“I mean, I guess we could..." you mumbled, your voice small and shy. “It’s just… I don’t know.”
Percy raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What, you scared of a little diaper duty?”
You snorted despite yourself. “You’d be the one doing all the work, huh?”
“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “But honestly, I think we could do it. And if we mess up, we’ll just blame it on the gods.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Always the Greek way.”
Percy laughed, and before you could think of a more serious response, he leant over and kissed you on the cheek. “No pressure. Just something to think about.”
But as he pulled away, there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart swell. You weren’t quite sure what to think yet, but when it came to Percy Jackson, sometimes the best things in life came when you least expected them.
Three years later...
You woke to the soft sound of giggles echoing down the hallway. A small hand tugged at your arm, pulling you out of your sleepy haze.
"Mum! Dad’s making pancakes again!" the little voice squealed.
You blinked, your mind struggling to fully wake up, but when you opened your eyes, you saw the tiny form of your son standing at the foot of your bed, his curly hair sticking out in all directions like a cute little mess. He was wearing his favourite Captain America pyjama shirt, the one Percy had picked out for him because it "matched his heroic spirit." The little boy grinned at you, his eyes wide and full of excitement.
"Did you sleep okay, buddy?" You asked, sitting up, your heart warming at the sight of him.
"Yeah!" he said, bouncing on his heels. "Dad said we’re having chocolate chips in the pancakes today. And we’re going to the park afterwards! Can we go, Mum? Can we?"
You smiled sleepily, brushing your hair out of your face. The house was quiet except for the soft noises of Percy in the kitchen and the sound of laughter spilling out from there.
“Give me a second, okay?” You said, ruffling your son’s messy curls. "I’ll be right down."
As your son hurried off to the kitchen, you let yourself take a moment. You could hear Percy’s voice, light and cheerful, as he worked at the stove. The warmth of the moment settled over you—this was your family now. The little boy who had come into your life and changed everything, who was both a reminder of the love you and Percy shared and a miracle of your own making.
You felt a soft tug in your chest. It was hard to remember what life was like before him, before you’d taken that leap, before you and Percy had gone from shy, unsure newlyweds to confident, exhausted—but incredibly happy—parents.
Downstairs, Percy was flipping pancakes with the same easy confidence he'd had all those years ago. The three of you—together, imperfectly perfect—sounded like a family now.
As you made your way into the kitchen, your son immediately ran over to you, his arms wide. “Mum! Look!” He showed you his tiny pile of pancakes, adorned with a mountain of chocolate chips.
“You made all of that?” You asked, pretending to be impressed, though you knew who had done the bulk of the work.
Percy chuckled, tossing his flour-covered spatula into the sink. “Teamwork,” he said, winking at you. “He’s getting good at this.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your two favourite people, your hearts full. "I think he’s going to give you a run for your money in the kitchen soon."
“Good,” Percy said, scooping your son up and tossing him into the air, earning a burst of delighted laughter. "We’ll need all the help we can get."
And just like that, your heart melted. This little family of yours—it wasn’t perfect, but it was everything you’d ever wanted.
#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo series#pjo fandom#percy jackson#pjo#percy series#pjo hoo toa#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#percy jakson#riordanverse#riordanverse x reader#MEERKITTY#Clapping and cheering
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Bet on it ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader ) PART THREE
Summary : it the night of the gala an awkward start til the two break the silence that leaves them going down memory lane to simplier time with the ice breaking and thawing bradley starts to realise somethings like how good his name sound coming from her lips , how beautiful she truly is and the two get closer and closer
warnings : goofy , fluffy fun , allusions to smut rooster is older than reader by like 8 or something years so aging him up in og top gun timeline
previous part
It was odd , it was awkward as hell and a silent car ride as the both went to talk,opening their mouths and yet closed a second later . going from enemies and friends wasn’t so clear cut like in the movie where they were instant besties . sure they didn’t squabble or insult each other much as before still few slip ups here and there . now she kind wish its like in the movies anything would be better than this and when she tried to kill the silence words failed her . she also felt old feeling coming to the surface which she could only hate more for the timing . she never hated him , never truly a part of her always loved the man. a drunken confession to jake after a particularly bad time between the two that night . she confided in what happened all the years ago maybe it was dramatic reaction from her side but he did truly hurt her and now she was questioning if he really knew that , something they could talk about some other time she wasn’t going to make an already awkward moment even worse . it didn’t help how good he looked not that he wasn’t hotter than the fucking sun before but rooster in three piece suit should of been a crime how good he looked and even more happy she wasn’t driving or they would be heading to a hospital instead of a hospital charity gala .
Why couldn’t he talk , He of all people having trouble speaking when all he did was talk . it was like bagman not having an ego and yet the woman currently sitting in the passenger seat of his bronco had him either silent or a blubbering mee . the same woman who made his blood pressure rising had it rising or a whole different reason . “ say something jesus anything” he cursed himself internally.
“ music” he asked quickly to which she just gave a polite nod to . “ least it was something “ he mentally wondering how it was so bad , how it was like this to the point they couldn’t even talk to each other without the rest of their friends around , tapping his finger on the wheel as he listened to the music pretending he wasn’t cringing inside then it came on the radio a song from their childhood , a regular in the hard deck .
“ you shake my nerves and your rattle my brain” that voice it wasn’t him ,
“ too much love drives a man insane” she could sing since well , he remember she and his father did but a three year old rendition of twinkle twinkle like star.
“You broke my will , but what a thrill “ he joined turning to see her smiling .
“ GOODNESS GRACIOUS GREAT BALLS OF FIRE “ they screamed before bursting into a fit of laughter ,
“ erm excuse me mini mitchell why the hell have i not heard you sing before” he asked.
“ well you hated me so i wasn’t gonna sing you a lullaby now was i “ she snorted.
“ i disliked you never hated you but i regret all that really wish i could change it all if i could we could be touring america singing jerry lee lewis” he winked.
“ as much as i love your rendition nothing will ever beat your dad’s what i’d give to hear him singing it again” she smiled softly .
“ nah what i would love is his and your version of twinkle twinkle little star , i mean you both made that a ballet” he chuckled.
“ we did rock that one , but i think our rewrite of bingo was better “ she snorted.
“ oh yeah the one where you made bingo like a twenty letter word and some numbers in there too “he mused yet playful lilt to his tone.
“ hey i was exploring art through music and i was also a toddler all words were big back then “ she mock offense .
“ hey now your taking me up wrong i am a fan and so was my dad as he was able to follow along he was your biggest fan “ .
“ and my dad is your biggest fan we lucked out on the godfather train huh ? …. Well sort of “ she grimace realizing how it came out.
“ hey your dad’s maverick i might be an orphan godchild soon with how he take risks “ he grinned was her laughter always this way and why did he wanna hear more of it .
“ my dad is maverick that man is gonna outlive us all”
the venue was bigger than she though it was bigger event than she thought . in a way it was better it meant more fund for her department , more resources, more bed.
“ im not going to get tackle when we walk in her am” he joked .
“ i mean beth might … nah you should be fine i'll tell them it was a misunderstanding or something” .
“ beth the lady i talk to cause if so i will use you as a shield” .
“ chivalry isn't dead after all” she smirked .
just as she went to get out of the car only for him to run like hell to her side opening the door even held her hand as she got out the full gentlemen treatment seemed to be on the cards as they walked in the entrance. to say he was nervous seeing the same security guard eyeing him up til she smile and shook her head signaling is all is good . the security guard made him nervous but the glare on beth face well had him standing behind y/n when the woman made her way over.
“ sweet pea blink twice if you need help “ she whispered.
“ most wonderfully divine miss beth its ok we sorted it out , bradley this is the wonderfully divine beth most skill nurse beth this is bradley bradshaw master of piano and super hornet jets” y/n stood pulling him forward and yet it wasn't the nervous it wasn’t fear of this southern woman who had a sweet nurturing smile but looks to kill , it was fact it was first time she said his name his actual name , not his callsign or surname but his name . it felt good it felt better then good it made things inside him stir and a dopey grin to form on his face . she got him up in this gala smiling like he was dopey from the snow white and the seven dwarves all because she said his name and this was not good this was not what he thought would happen so early on to the bet , he needed to and yet couldn’t squash feeling erupting inside himself that honestly made him feel shit.
Through out the night he stood taller , smiled wider everytime she introduced him to a coworker or shit he hope newer people would come in just to do it all again. Laughing and joking around with her coworkers , the pride that shouldn’t have been there yet burst out of him when they praise her on the good work , how she impacted the patients or just what an honor it was to know or see her do her thing .
“ i swear she is only doc i’ve seen that would sing along to the messed up nursery rhymes and not bat a lid and kids love her “ beth cooed as he listened to her coworkers gushing about her.
“ or trying to get people to come visit the kids she got people dressed as superhero’s last time ” marcus a fellow doctor asked.
“ hey happy patients happy doctor “ she shrugged taking a sip of her drink .
“ we should say it to your dad get the dagger squad to come” bradley clapped excitedly.
“ the staff and kids would be happy “ beth winked . “ not you i’m still on fence about you pretty boy “ .
“ hey deserved but i hope if her dad says yes i can win you over “ he batted his lashes at the woman as she tried to keep her stance .
“ what am i missing?” marcus asked.
“ well we didn’t get along for a while but now we’re cool rooster has redeemed himself tonight “ she swirled the class and yet it he suddenly felt a sting at the fact is wasn’t his name.
“ so when did you become a couple “ the man asked excitedly only for both to choke on the liquid in there mouth.
“ no no no ha no we’re just friend , buddies “ she laughed grabbing napkins
“ yeah friends what she said i mean come on girl like her with dude like me “ bradley chuckled til he seen her face drop and the hurt on it . “ i didn’t mean it like that i mean you are wow beautiful .. oh my god am i having a stroke tonight or something” he groaned.
“ i think what baby eyes is trying to say is your too good for him and if it not well it what we know”beth god he could kiss that woman if she didn’t scare the hell out of him .
“ exactly what i meant i didn’t mean i was better or hotter than you “ he stumbled stuttering over his words.
“ boy just shh not making it better.. Now take her to dance that dress is too good to be sitting here all night ” the woman hushed.
“ yes ma’am … would you wanna dance with me i think my feet work better than mouth “ he turned as she gave a little yes . now he really did hope his feet worked better than his mouth or was he going to make more of a fool of himself.
Hand on hers as she place the other on his shoulder and his other hand to her hip . gentle swaying he could do as that much it wasn’t too complicated and yet he felt his heart beating hard in his chest he was nearly expecting to see it on his shirt and then she looked up at him and his knees almost buckled . he never wanted her to look at him any other way than that , never wanted to hear rooster coming out of her mouth , then he tried to think of the past something to get his head in the game, he couldn’t lose his resolve so quick a month into the bet he needed to think of how he felt back then the way he felt when it all started . his motivation to keeping strong and yet he couldn’t the rational part of him was coming to effect and he decided one night to not think of it , one night to think of everything but enjoy the moment at hand.
As guest filtered out and some memories of her bosses she never wanted to member they stood out of the venue and chill air of night hit . when she saw bradley bradshaw at her door she didn’t think she would have one of the best nights of her life . she never thought feeling she buried so deep would break and come back in ten fold . it was crazy , borderline insane to how she felt by end of night and that was it she didn’t want the night to end , she didn’t want to say goodbye and things to go back to normal . she hated it knowing it was stupid to think this way fucking hell they just started being some what friends the last month. The shiver down her body and then she felt the warm weight of his jacket on her shoulders and his hand out to lead her back to the car . the whole timeshe willed herself to stop to think clearly to think of how he hurt her all those years ago when she felt like this first. But she couldn’t all logic and reason quashed by the beat of her heart . . she fell harder than she ever did. Pulling her up outside of her apartment she should of said goodnight leave the good to stay good in that moment .
“ you wanna come in for a drink” was all it took for another shift to happen a new direction to run it course and what she would find out the worst idea she’s ever had .
Nervous of being in a small space together , nervous of new but old feeling coming back and nervous to the doubt of everything and anything. Few beers and glasses of wine took the worry , the nerves and the caution away . relax and giddy finding a trip down memory lane filling in the spots of being apart . she told him about med school how hard and crazy it was especially giving she was youngest of her class , old boyfriends and friends . he told her of collage still a little sore spot not going to the naval academy but she wasn’t so happy with her dad for that either . then how surreal it was following in the footsteps of his dad and pete mitchell both daunting and exciting . more drink flowing as they laughed and joked around about the good side of memory lane .
“ i can’t believe we missed out on so much huh ?” she sighed sadly .
“ we really did , least we friends now right or did my stupid mouth and bad dancing scare you away?”he teased.
“ you know bad dancing and mouth aside tonight has been so fun , really i mean you haven’t fully won beth over but you have won me over bradshaw” she beamed up at him .
“ please call me bradley i like it better when you say it i mean anyone else no eww but when it’s you makes me happy when you say name “ he leaned forward she felt herself pulled like a magnetic force .
“ bradley “ she whispered and just like that all resolved went out the window and something snapped as two crashed against one another clash of teeth and tongues , hunger and adorations . stars aligning , fireworks , sunshine and fucking rainbows . a kiss and a fear of what was to come next .
A blinding light and a thumping headache . a personal jackhammer living in the confine of she sat up and the sun making it harder to open her eyes feeling around for her phone til her hand hit something that makes the hangover the least of her problems as she force her eyes open and see a sleeping rooster naked in her bed . buzzing of her phone on the floor as she dove make sure not to waking the sleeping pilot crawling out the room not ready to deal with what happened just yet as she hit the little green icon .
“ hey darling did ya have fun with chicken ?”
“ more than i should of “ she gulped .
part 4
taglist : @djs8891 @peachmartini @shanimallina87 @kawaiiskeletondragonbanana @paisleebubbles
#top gun fandom#top gun fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun maverick#jake seresin#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster x you#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley rooster x reader#top gun rooster#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x y/n#hangman#jake hangman seresin#natasha trace#natasha phoenix trace#javy machado#javy coyote machado#mickey fanboy garcia#mickey garcia#reuben payback fitch#reuben fitch#robert bob floyd#robert floyd
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OMG SO when Darry was friends with all those socs he would bully Sodapop so bad in the halls with them. Sodapop would be against the wall sitting on the floor from being shoved by Paul, looking at his big brother expecting him to help him. Darry felt a pang in his heart but he laughed with his friends and called him dumb and stupid, just like everyone else. Soda cried so hard.
They wouldn’t pick on Pony as much (mostly because Darry was to embarrassed for his friends to go to his house) but when they did it was so horrible. Pony, who was so small being in the middle on a circle of big soc boys and his big brother. Being shoved around. Eventually Soda would try and help him but still-
Darry feels so horrible for what he did when he was a “dumb teen”
DUDE i could talk about this for HOURS-be careful or you might open the floodgates
He’d make sure to be “lighter” but he also always told his brother if h they told their parents he’d kill them and it got to the point where Soda would purposefully avoid going the same routes in school as Darry beating he didn’t want him or his Soc friends beating him up. Soda would cry so hard his throat hurt and he wouldn’t speak to darry for days, no matter how many times he apologized. Soda was already depressed in school and he didn’t need his own flesh and blood telling him that too. They never told their parents, but he also wouldn’t let his parents near his soc friends because he found his dad’s happy and goofy personality embarrassing and he found his mom to be “too much” around his friends so he’d always either go out or sneak out.
Little twelve year old Pony too just being in the middle of this ring of Soc boys, Darry could see the fear in Pony’s eyes too and just felt horrible. But he just went along with it and told Pony to not be so weak and to stick up for himself…it got to the point he let one of his friends burn Pony’s favorite book and didn’t do a thing about it as Pony wailed for his big brother to make it all stop and Darry just stood there.
He does everything he can yo make it up to them now. He’s VERY careful with his words now with them (Pony isn’t a reliable source so there’s some wiggle room between canon and not) and he’ll sometimes randomly jsut ask his brothers like “you know I’m sorry? You know I never meant it..? You know I love you, right..?” and he gets so close to just crying. It literally keeps him up at night sometimes.
I will ramble about this.
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rating yellowjackets ships (lowest to highest!) because i am bored and also because i want people to know just how insane i am for some of the pairings in this show‼️ LETSGOOOOO
•travnat—3/10•
they’re…ok i guess? like. i don’t actively hate them, but i really don’t ship them. and yeah i get that they clung to each other and bonded over dad trauma and stuff, but a) i don’t like travis (PLS DONT ATTACK ME HE’S JUST NOT FOR ME AND I COULDNT GET OVER THE MISOGYNY) and b) i fully believe natalie scatorccio is AT LEAST bisexual and deserves a lady lover!!! so yeah. not for me.
•mistynat—4/10•
ok. OK. hear me out PLEASE bc i know some people are gonna be mad i’ve put them this low. i just don’t really see it? like i fully believe that it’s possible misty had a crush on nat in the teen timeline and i’m pretty convinced adult misty was definitely infatuated/obsessed with adult nat BUT i don’t think nat ever reciprocated? and i can’t see her ever feeling that way about misty IM SORRY. i don’t hate the ship by any means, it’s just not my favourite!!!
•jackielot—5/10•
they’re both pretty femme lesbians and i think maybe they should smooch (and then smooch ME MY GAWD PLS ONE CHANCE😫🙏🏻). that’s all i have to say about that.
•shaunanat—5/10•
i just know the rivalry in s3 is gonna HIT and maybe they should kiss and make up about it (AND THEN KISS ME TOO MY FUCKING LORD I NEED THEM BOTH SO BAD🫦). but fr i mean like a cute idea in another world yk? they would SO bully the shit out of each other and then fuck nasty about it🤝.
•crystal x misty (crusty😭)—6/10•
they were cute!!! they matched each other’s freak🥹 until misty freaked a little too hard 😔 no but actually they could’ve been cute musical theatre gfs and i would’ve been here for it!!!
•taishauna—6/10•
i LOVE their friendship in both timelines and i do prefer them platonically BUT i see the potential. i think they soften each other, and allow the other to process and feel their emotions, and also help to rationalise them. LOVE the friendship and if i didn’t prefer their other ships i could defo see myself getting into them!
•lottielee—7/10•
the disciple and the prophet??? uhhh YEAH. i mean laura lee literally haunts lottie for 25 YEARS. that bitch NEVER got over what they had. are they my favourite ship? no. do i wish they’d kissed in that lake? YES YES YES YES YES. the yearning, the religious symbolism/guilt, the TENDERNESS. i am IN.
•lottieshauna—8/10•
BRRSKLLAKSKS just yes. YES. THE PROPHET AND HER BUTCHER😫. their relationship is so complicated and beautiful but i think they could be very special, specifically in the teen timeline. they’re so fiercely protective of each other but would never admit it. they hate each other. they admire each other. they resent each other. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. i wholeheartedly believe lottie was shauna’s bi awakening when they were like 13 and shauna never really stopped thinking lottie was gorgeous. just. THEM.
•jackienat—8/10•
i am a SUCKER for the popular x loser trope and even more so when they’re LESBIANS😁 like lottie was shauna’s awakening, nat was jackie’s. ONE MILLION PERCENT they were childhood besties and one day they kissed ‘to practice’ when they were like 11 and jackie was like ‘OH😨’ and knew then and THERE she was a lesbian. i love them your honour. like shaunanat, i think they’d bully each other, but i also think they’d be so soft with each other. OH and nat would SO tease jackie for being popular and rich and preppy and call her ‘princess’ in jest but would for real treat her like a princess and would beat up anyone who said a bad word about her. yes PLEASEEEEE.
•taivan—10/10•
THEEE IT COUPLE! they are just *mwah* chef’s kiss. especially in the teen timeline! they just balance each other so perfectly, like they were LITCHRALLY made for each other🥹. van is goofy and silly and a dreamer, tai is serious, intense; a realist. they just so clearly love each other so so much and i ADORE THEM. ‘happy wife happy life’ YYYYEEEAHHHHH. i’m gonna be so devastated when they eventually break up in the teen timeline and DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED on if/when van dies in the adult timeline☹️. not even thinking about it actually. just them and their soft tender gay love🤗.
•lottienat—1000000/10•
i genuinely will start tweaking if i think about these two for too long. they just make me so ASKSHSLSLSJSJ😫. i don’t even think i can articulate how much i love them. the rich girl and the burnout. the hunter and the prophet. THEY ARE SO PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER. the bath scene????? DIED DEAD ON THE FLOOR. ‘is that what we are’ GONE REQUIRING CPR. lottie kissing nat’s hands for so long after giving up her leadership, the last thing she had left? SIX FEET FUCKING UNDER😨. nah but fr, i NEEEED them to kiss. they would be so good for each other. the potential is…UNFUCKINGLIMITED (i am choosing to ignore the fact that nat’s dead thank you xoxo). just…the tenderness. the pining. they’re narrative foils. they’re enemies. they’re friends. they’re something more. YELLOWJACKETS…DROP A LOTTIENAT KISS IN S3 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS🙏🏻.
and finally…my fucking roman empire…
•jackieshauna—9999999999999/10•
there is a hole in my heart in the shape of these two. they’re…EVERYTHING. god they just loved each other so much but life and the wilderness and jeff and their own self-destruction got in the way. jackie loved shauna so much it killed her. shauna loved jackie so much she ATE her. they were completely undefinable—best friends, rivals, soulmates. entirely devoted. i just ache when i think about what they could have had. the tragedy of them is life-altering. shauna will miss jackie for longer than she knew her and that fact makes me want TO OFF MYSELF. they are intertwined forever, not knowing where one ends and the other begins. i wholeheartedly believe they were in love with each other but didn’t know how to say it. because of jeff, because it was 1996, because love couldn’t even possibly cover what it was they felt for each other. in my head, they’re together. in my head, they ran away together and lived a long and happy life. and it kills me to know that’s not what happened. they actually make me fucking insane and i’ll never get over them.
now have some memes bc i’m silly like that🤭
#bottom line is they were all sapphics who kissed each other!#sooooo….yeah#i’m insane for all of them#this show genuinely altered my brain chemistry#and i’m not mad about it!#yellowjackets#jackieshauna#lottienat#taivan#jackienat#lottieshauna#lottielee#jackie taylor#shauna shipman#lottie matthews#natalie scatorccio#taissa turner#van palmer#jackie taylor x shauna shipman#lottie matthews x natalie scatorccio#taissa turner x van palmer
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Whatever you do, don't envision Reader and Felix driving a vintage convertible through the Tuscan countryside. Top down, wind in their hair, the scent of lemon groves, music playing from the radio.
Perhaps they're on their way to a private party or they're ditching one 🤭
Felix and Reader are holding hands or he's got a hand on their thigh, loving the way they look so carefree.
(stumbling out of my inbox covered in fluff: i don't know where this came from)
There's no prying eyes in moments like these, no-one to perform for, no performers masquerading as his friends or friends of the family trying to steal his attention. Its all on you, and you've never performed for Felix the way the rest of the world has.
He loves you for it.
He loves you for many reasons, of course, but this is one of his favourites.
The sun has just set, the sky painted a burning orange before it fades to sweet lilac and then night, stars beginning to brighten in the sky, and you haven't stopped smiling since he'd pulled out of the parking lot of that god awful party. His darling parents were being progressive with none too subtle purpose, and while both you and he loved their ongoing support, sometimes it was a bit much. More than a bit much. It was suffocating.
But he has no phone service out here, only you beside him with the map he keeps under the seat, pointing out a quaint town an hour away with some kind of hotel situation, and his hand on your thigh. The radio is loud and bright, though you still complain about the CD player in his car -
"I spent good money on a tape deck that works, bought actual, brand new tapes -"
"Where the hell did you get those?" He laughed, but was endeared by your efforts, even as you talked over him, pointedly ignoring him.
"- made you a whole mixtape, and you went and replaced the take deck in your card with a bloody CD player!" You threw your hands in the air in mock dismay.
"I had the CD player put in when dad gave me the car," Felix half smiles, glancing at you for just a moment out of the corner of his eye, "years ago," he reminds you. Seeing the way you're trying so hard to keep up your show off being miffed, despite the sheepish smile curling at the edge of your lips, he gives your thigh a squeeze and looks back at the road.
Slowly, you uncross your arms, sitting back in your seat with a faint, playful pout. When you rest your hand on his, it's warm.
"Made a whole proper cover for it and everything, to put in that plastic cover-thingy they all come in."
"I know," Felix agrees, "I like how you styled the track list on the back," he can't help but smile, picturing it in his mind, "and it's a good set of songs."
He loves the goofy smile he knows you're wearing without even having to turn and look at you. Something about how genuinely you've always reacted to his praise has always warmed his heart; you'd always had a knack for telling his performative, placating praise from his sincerity. He's known you too long and too well by now to offer anything but sincerity when you both know it's rightfully deserved.
"I'll buy you a car with a tape deck just so we can listen to my road trip mix," you say it so casually that he's not quite sure if you're joking. But then you pet his hand, laughter ringing out from you, into the perfect Summer night, "kidding, Fi; I made it for you, listen to it wherever or whenever you want," he catches your easygoing shrug out of the corner of his eye, "or never. No skin off my nose." For a few moments, you distract yourself, tapping out inconsistent beats along his fingers, the back of his hand -
"Unless you want a car with a tape deck," this time he's sure it's not a joke. Its as casual as if you'd offered to simply buy him a beer, no real larger thoughts behind the offer. No part of you is performing the way anyone else would; not trying to bribe, or buy, or placate, or charm, or flaunt your wealth;
"You've just now reminded me why my parents are so adamantly pro-Gay Marriage," Felix couldn't help his laughter, and you sat back, watching the road ahead with a wry smile.
"Your parents are so adamantly pro-Gay Marriage because they desperately want me to pick if I'm to be legally recognised as one or the other, so they can marry me off right now to either you or your sister, but are too deep in their support of me to feel comfortable asking that," you turn to look at him with something forlorn in your eyes despite the smile on your lips, and Felix, despite how much he loved his parents, also knew you were absolutely right.
"No matter where in the world I am," Felix grins, as the lights of the town ahead begin to glow in the distance, "the minute -the absolute moment- mum finds out the two of us can legally get married, I bet you I get a call telling me to come home so she and dad can give me the family ring," and beside him, you're cackling with laughter just picturing it, "at three in the morning, I'll be in Australia or some place, high as fuck in the bush or something, and I'll have to deal with mum acting like she hasn't been plotting this arranged marriage shit for years!"
And the two of you laugh, because you're barely twenty, and the idea of a future beyond your youthful hedonism is overwhelming if you don't laugh about it. Politics, and real world issues, and the future neither of you want to think about, are all absurd, and laughable, and easy to push to the back of your minds. Like the cassette mixtape Felix keeps in his glove box even without a tape deck, because he knows he'll never lose it there.
You take Felix's hand from your thigh as you lace your fingers with his.
And you laugh.
And neither of you knows if it's because the idea of getting married feels preposterous, or maybe a little inevitable.
#felix catton x reader#felix catton x y/n#saltburn x reader#saltburn imagine#felix catton imagine#felix catton x you#head heart hand fic#manic writer#it shouts back
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Hiii how are you? I hope requests are open, I came to make my humble request! what t a fluff? where Whitebeard sees that his daughter is being excluded from a party, he is saddened and even a little angry, because they excluded his daughter for being his daughter and nobody wants to dance with Whitebeard's daughter! she has no partner to dance with and he offers to dance with her?
a slightly funny scenario, but in the end, he makes his daughter very happy
and the same scenario but with Teen!Shanks, where he sees Whitebeard's daughter being excluded from a party and offers to dance with her, but even though he doesn't know how to dance and ends up stepping on YN's toes,
but he makes her very happy
Do it if you want
—Whitebeard(platonic) & teen!Shanks x teen!reader
—summary: nobody seems to want to be your partner to dance, luckily you manage to find someone to enjoy the night
—Warnimgs: none
oh, all good over here <3 (just suffering from the summer heat 😩) hope all is well over there friend!
Your body moved slightly to the beat of the music, you scrolled through the site looking for a dance partner, there were several couples, groups or loners like you looking for someone to enjoy the songs with.
Despite the fact that there were people in your same position, no one seemed to dare to dance next to you or offer to be your partner for one of the songs. It wasn't your fault either, you understood that your father's presence was intimidating and that not everyone is brave enough to ask the daughter of a Yonko to dance, although it's not like it was the end of the world, you were enjoying the music while Whitebeard enjoyed some drinks with his comrades, a little further away from the mass of dancing people.
Although your father's smile shrank to a straight line, he saw that even though you smiled, you hoped you could enjoy a dance with someone, that and also because he listened to you for hours talking about how excited you were to be at your first ball, or at least a party that wasn't just your dad's crew.
He put his glass aside, warning that he would be back in a while, his imposing figure and presence made everyone make a hallway towards you immediately, not wanting to deal with someone like him.
"Dad?"
You watched with a goofy grin as he offered you his big hand, maybe not what you were thinking for the night, but at least it only got better.
"Will you agree to dance with your father's old man to a song?"
"Of course! I hope your backbones don't crack."
"HAHAHA! You shouldn't say that, I still have the mobility of when I was a young man"
You laughed, squeezing his hand when a more upbeat song began to play, you stumbled, dancing without any rhythm, hitting other people —whom you apologized to at the moment— although they were all wrapped in the same frenzy thanks to the tempo. The small sadness of not finding a partner to move around the festival vanished faster than alcohol at Moby Dick.
"Dad."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you..."
He patted your back almost knocking you to the ground, his laugh rising slightly from the volume of the music.
"Anything for my dear daughter."
You were sitting up, your feet slightly sore from having spent most of the night at a festival dancing, though unfortunately, no one ventured to grab your hand and drag you onto the dance floor, you assumed it was the aftermath of your father being Whitebeard. No other teenager would dare to try something with you even though they weren't thinking of anything malicious.
Even though you understood it, it couldn't help but bother you to see how everyone seemed happy with their partners or friends dancing in a romantic or stupid way, you didn't care, you just wanted to enjoy the night but here you are, apart and watching like an outcast.
You exchanged glances with your father and noticed that he seemed angry because everyone seemed not to approach you as if you had some kind of contagious disease, although before he could do anything Roger greeted him distractingly enough for someone to call your attention, covering all your view to the dance floor.
Of course, there isn't another person on earth who isn't afraid to mess with you, Shanks smiled at you offering his hand.
"Will you accept a dance with me?"
"I don't know... I have to think about it." you looked away hiding your playful smile, listening to how the redhead sighed, putting his hand to the back of his neck, scratching the area "Don't be an idiot, let's dance, I've been waiting for this all night!"
You dragged him away, forcibly pushing aside people who had rejected or ignored you, grabbing Shanks's waist as you heard the first few notes of the song, it seemed to be a slow one.
"Wait, am I not the one who puts the hands on the waist?"
"It doesn't matter, just let yourself go, come on!"
Shanks wasn't the best with the steps of course, he stepped on you several times, although you weren't an expert either, at least you didn't end up rolling on the floor, when they changed the song to a more lively one you released the teenager to start jumping and moving your head like crazy.
"Do you have a stick up your ass? You move too stiff."
Unaccustomed to this explosion of movements on your part and everyone, he let himself go little by little, doing the strangest dance steps, you laughed so hard when he tripped over his own foot that you also ended up on the ground.
"It seems that neither of us is good for this."
He got up, dusted off his pants, and helped you to stand up.
"Speak for yourself, I only fell because of you."
"Oh come on, I wasn't that bad, was I?"
#op#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x fem reader#fem reader#reader insert#teen!reader#one piece x teen!reader#whitebeard x daughter!reader#whitebear's daughter#request#x reader#sfw#platonic reader#shanks#shanks x reader#teen!shanks#one piece scenario#scenarios#teen!shanks x teen!reader
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