#I thought this batch was pretty good to start of with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vrystalius · 2 months ago

Note

I was watching Sanemi's training episode and thought about this ask."Sanemi was training the hunters,his wife called him and all the hunters to have lunch with the delicious food she made,but when the hunters saw Sanemi's wife they were enchanted by her beauty and kindness,how would Sanemi react to seeing the hunters enchanted by his wife's beauty?" (Sorry for my bad english)

❕Sanemi’s reaction to his trainees being enchanted by you

You were kind enough to prepare meals for Sanemi’s students after a long and gruelling training session. They absolutely adore you! How will your husband react?

Note: Thank you so much for requesting. Your english is very good, don’t worry! I have another request in my inbox I’m planning to write and publish today. Sorry for not being very active today.

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

— Sanemi has been letting his assigned slayers suffer. He beat their ass with the wooden training katana until it broke, or until the slayer passed out. If the wooden katana broke before the trainee did, Sanemi made sure to continue with his fists. Is this even proper training anymore? Striking or even coming close to this maniac seemed impossible!!

— You knew that your husband is not holding back with his assigned slayers, and so you prepared beforehand: You had a fully stocked pantry and medical closet. You made sure to grab extra medicine and bandages from the butterfly mansion even before the first slayers arrived, wanted to make sure everyone is surviving Sanemi’s training.

— While Sanemi was taking on his trainees, you were cooking some veggie miso soup with a side of steamed dumplings. While that was brewing, you were making a small batch of ohagi just for Sanemi. It’s also very tiring for him, and you’re sure he’d want something sweet to eat during his break.

— Shortly after pouring the soup into the bowls and arranging the dumplings on side dishes, the first starved and badly bruised slayers arrived. Well, they more likely crawled towards the scent of food.

— While they wolfed down their bowls of veggie miso soup, you carefully tended to their wounds while they were distracted. You dabbed on an ointment and wrapped some bandages around their torso’s, arms and legs, speaking encouraging words to them. After the slayers ate and managed to rest up for a while, they actually realised from who they got all this caring attention from.

“Mrs.Sh-Shinazugawa! You’re an angel! Our saviour!”

“Can I have another bowl of soup? Pleeeaase?”

“My shoulder hurts, can you massage me a little? Pretty please, Mrs.Shinazugawa!!”

— But one question lingered on their minds collectively: How the hell did Sanemi find such an angel of a woman like you?! And how the hell did you agree to marry him? Were you forced? Paid? Beaten into submission?!

— Regardless, more and more of Sanemi’s poor trainees showed up crawling, sobbing or being carried/dragged across the dirt by their mates. They desperately needed nourishment and tending to their wounds, or there will be fatalities. You didn’t know if you were supposed to laugh or cry at the sight.

— Sanemi noticed how more and more of his slayers disappeared. Are they seriously hiding from him? Idiots. He started stomping through the training ground, following the smell of green tea and miso soup. That’s where he found you and almost all of his slayers.

— You tended to almost every single slayer personally, patching them up and giving them encouraging words. Some of his trainees even started following you around, trying to help you out and leave a good impression. Maybe you’ll give them extra portions of food or kind praises? Your voice sounded like a healing melody in comparison to Sanemi’s constant yelling and insults.

— But the peaceful atmosphere of you giving out some leftover miso soup and holding some light conversation with the trainees here and there was interrupted by Sanemi’s yelling.

“You’re all useless!! Ya think hiding behind my wife is allowing you to skip training, hah?! Back to the training grounds, shitheads!!”

— Yes, Sanemi is incredibly angry about his slayers hiding from him, especially crawling to you for safety and respite. But he’s more angry about the fact how they were all trying to get your attention and affections. Sanemi doesn’t mind when you interact with other people, or even men. He gets slightly jealous when men get too comfortable and start flirting with you,but Sanemi trusts you. He will interfere if things get too much though, just like now.

— Sanemi is feeling very jealous right now. He saw how you tended to the slayers. Your fingers were wrapping bandages around their wounds and bruises, and you were being so incredibly gentle and soft. You were blushing at their compliments and thanked them gracefully when they help you out.

— Your gentle touches should only be reserved for *him when you patch him up after a long night. Your hands should only touch *his skin with such carefulness and gentleness, and only Sanemi is supposed to make you blush with his* praises. Not these… good-for-nothing slayers.

— You are not oblivious, and you realised why Sanemi was really shooing them away. That’s exactly why you prepared the small batch of ohagi, just to show him that in the end, he’s the only one that received special treatment and affection from you. Although Sanemi only stops grumbling and complaining to you about his assigned trainees’ behaviour once you give him at least one kiss and some reassurance. But he still gave out severe punishments afterwards.

“Their annoying asses are getting on my damn nerves. I’m gonna have a fucking headache in the evening… soo… cuddles? Later?”

💠

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed.

Anways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

#💠 house of vry 💠#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer hashira #fluff #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi shinaguzawa #kny sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa

491 notes · View notes

luna-eclipse2000 · 3 months ago

Text

You wearing someone else’s cologne (but it’s actually just one they don’t wear)

Ft: Eren, Armin, Jean, Levi, and Hanji

Some suggestive themes so MDNI

Eren

- You come out of your shared bedroom and walk past Eren

- He instantly smells the cologne and sees red

- He prefers musky smells, so why on earth do you smell like that?

- He grabs your wrist. Not too hard, but hard enough for you to turn around and ask him what’s wrong

- “Whose cologne is that?”

- You are instantly confused

- “Don’t play dumb, (Y/N). Whose cologne is that?”

- “Eren. I bought this for you for your birthday.”

- He instantly feels embarrassed

- “Oh… Sorry…”

- “But I do like how jealous you got over it.” You say, wrapping your arms around his waist

- “What can I say, sweetie?” Eren says. “I don’t like the thought of anyone else getting to touch you.”

- “You’re the only one who would do it right anyway.” You say

- He instantly throws you over his shoulder to show you just how right you are

Armin

- Armin always waits for you to get up before he leaves for work

- He’s never been late and he loves seeing your face in the morning

- But today he had to go in super early thanks to a batch of new people who need to be trained

- He was absolutely heart broken having to leave without getting his goodbye kiss

- But then he had an idea so he eagerly texts you

- “Hey, how about we meet up for lunch at your favourite restaurant? It can be my apology for not being able to see you this morning.”

- He anxiously waits for you at the restaurant, the food already ordered since the wait staff already know your orders by heart

- When you enter the restaurant, his eyes light up, as do yours

- “(Y/N)!” He says happily as he gets up from his seat to greet you

- “Armin! How’s your day going?”

- “It’s going good, how about yours?” He asks

- “It just got better.” You answer and then give him a kiss

- When he pulls away to give you a hug, he smells it

- The faintest smell of cypress, vetiver and black teakwood

- He feels his heart drop a bit

- You never wear this kind of smell so it’s definitely not yours

- Then whose is it?

- He pulls away and hides his worry extremely well

- You never know when he’s upset until he physically can’t hold his emotions in anymore

- You’ve always told him to tell you how he feels but he hates making you worry over him

- This is slightly different, though

- If he expresses his worry, he’ll be practically accusing you of cheating on him and saying that he doesn’t trust you

- You can tell that sometimes wrong though because he’s not really engaging in the conversation. Just nodding his head and giving short responses

- But at this point you know he’s not going to tell you the truth until he can’t handle it anymore

- He gets home before you and starts pacing through the whole house, not able to sit still

- He never got the same kind of attention from people that Eren or Mikasa did so he’s still pretty insecure

- No matter how many times you tell him how much you love him, how pretty he is, how happy he makes you, there’s still a voice in the back of his mind telling him that you’re lying

- So when he hears the door open, he finally freezes

- He wants to run to you and give you all his love

- But he also wants to confront you about the cologne

- “Armin, there you are.” Your voice says from behind him. “I’ve been calling your name for a few minutes.”

- “Are you… seeing someone else?” He finally asks

- “What? Armin, what gave you that idea?”

- He turns around to face you and you finally see the anxiety in his eyes

- “I could smell that cologne on you.” He tells you, playing with his fingers nervously. “I’ve never smelt it before. I know I’m not very tall, or confident, or handsome, or even funny. So I get it if you want to see other people.”

- You smile sadly. All that lack of attention really messed up his confidence

- You’ve seen photos of him and his friends from high school, which he was absolutely humiliated about

- He had glasses, a decent amount of acne, and would wear a lot of anime shirts

- To say he was a nerd would be an understatement, but you thought he was cute

- So you walk up to him and gently cup his cheeks

- “Armin, my darling. The cologne is yours.”

- He’s absolutely stunned. He would’ve remembered if he had something that like that

- “Mikasa got it for you for your birthday. You didn’t want to hurt her feelings so you just put it in the drawer and forgot about it. I’d never cheat on you. I love you too much to do that to you.”

- He looks down feeling embarrassed that he ever thought you’d do something so cruel

- “I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “I never should’ve-“

- “Hey, no.” You say softly. “You never wore this before so it makes sense that you didn’t think it was yours. Now how about we go downstairs, put on a movie, and cuddle for a while. Does that sound good?”

- He nods with a small smile on his face. “I love you.”

- “I love you more than you know.”

Jean

- He comes home from work before you and decides to make your favourite food for dinner

- But first, he needs to take a shower

- He heads upstairs to your shared bedroom and smells something… different

- It smells like smoke, but with a hint of sage and sandalwood

- He wonders if you got him a new soap

- But if so, why can he smell it when he’s not in the shower?

- He shakes his head, wondering if he’s going crazy and heads into the washroom to take his shower

- It isn’t until he gets out and heads to the dresser to get a new set of night clothes that he finds the culprit behind the smell

- A bottle of cologne that seems to have a few squirts taken out of it

- He picks it up and looks at the brand

- It’s expensive and definitely not his

- His mind starts racing

- There’s no way you’re cheating on him

- You’d never do that

- You probably bought this for him because you thought it smelt good

- But then why isn’t it full?

- He decides to confront you about it when you get home

- He quickly gets dressed, grabs the bottle and heads downstairs so he can start cooking

- If you are cheating, he’s gonna cook you a meal so damn good you’ll instantly regret your decision

- Then he’ll probably remind you why you’ve stayed with him for all these years after your finished begging for his forgiveness

- He’ll make you beg even more

- He plates the food and sets it up at the table and sits down

- About five minutes later, you walk through the door and instantly smell your favourite food

- Ever since Jean made it, no one else’s has even compared

- “Mm, something smells good, Jean!” You say as you walk into the dining room and see him waiting for you.

- “You like smells?” He asks

- You just give him a confused look in response

- He then puts the cologne on the table rather dramatically, like he just found your secret stash of drugs

- “So… You wanna explain why I found some random cologne in our room?”

- You blink a few times. “Excuse me?”

- “Don’t play dumb, baby.” He says. “I can even smell it on you from here. Whose damn cologne is this?”

- “Ok first, let’s stop with the cop attitude. You’ve been watching way too much NCIS.” You say. “And that cologne was a gift from your mother when you got promoted.”

- Heat spreads across his face when he realizes that he’s been jealous of himself for over an hour

- “Oh… Well… I’ve never smelled it before, so why isn’t it still full?”

- “Because you wore it twice before exiling it to the back of the draw.” You explain.

- Jean clears his throat. “Well then… Never mind, I guess.”

Levi

- He’s checking everyone’s cleaning job when he comes to you

- You smell different

- But it couldn’t be you

- You don’t have anything that smells like bourbon

- And he doesn’t drink

- It could be the cadet your cleaning with

- So he walks up to you and takes a sniff

- Yup, that’s definitely you

- “Oi.” He says, looking over at the cadet. “Get lost.”

- “Yes, sir!” The cadet complies and quickly leaves, bringing the broom with him

- “What is it, Levi?” You ask

- “Why do you smell like that?” He asks

- “Like what?” You ask. “I took a shower this morning.”

- “You smell like bourbon.” He says. “So whose cologne is that?”

- “You’re not serious, right?” You asks. “Levi. This cologne has sat on your bathroom counter for months!”

- “Oh…”

- You start laughing

- “Tch.” He clicks his tongue. “You get to clean the stables now, too.”

- “Wha-? Why?!”

- “Because you laughed at me, brat.”

Hanji

- “Hey, Han!” You exclaim as you walk into their lab. “Whatcha doing?”

- “Working.” They answer absentmindedly as they swirl the liquid in their beaker

- You walk up to Hanji and peer over their shoulder

- The smell of vanilla and patchouli practically smacks Hanji in the face, causing them to immediately look away from their work

- “I know you’re working, silly.” You say. “But what are-?”

- You get cut off by Hanji very audibly sniffing the shirt you’re wearing

- High key sounds like a dog when they smell something new

- “Whose cologne is this?” Hanji asks. “Are mine not nice enough to wear?”

- “Huh?” You say, clearly a little confused

- Hanji then realizes that the shirt you’re wearing isn’t one of yours. It’s a big too big. “And whose shirt is this?”

- “Hanji Zoe.” You smirk. “Are you getting jealous?”

- Hanji removes their glasses and places them on top of their head

- They grip your waist and pull you in close to them

- So close that you can smell their body wash

- “Don’t toy with me, love.” They say lowly. “Who. Do those. Belong to. Don’t make me punish you.”

- You blush a bit, but want to see how far you can take this

- Hanji doesn’t get jealous like this often so you want to have a little fun

- “What will you do if I don’t tell you?”

- “I’ll make sure whoever is trying to take you from me knows that you’re mine.” Hanji answers. “I’ll mark every bit of your skin, and I’ll make sure you scream my name.”

- You wrap your arms around Hanji’s neck

- “Han. This is your shirt.”

- The look of surprise and confusion on their face is adorable

- “This is also your cologne.” You explain further. “I spilled dirty water on my top, so I found this at the bottom of your closet. And because I didn’t want to smell gross, I grabbed the first bottle I could find.“

- “Oh…” Hanji says simply. They start looking anywhere but at your face out of embarrassment.

- “You can keep your promise of punishing me if you want.” You say. “But you’ll need to make up for thinking I’d want to smell like anyone but you.”

- “Fine by me.” Hanji says. “I just gotta finish this experiment, then I’m all yours.”

- They turn back to their work, but you quickly spin them back around in their chair

- “Part of your punishment is not getting to finish… if you catch my drift.”

#attack on titan #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader #levi ackerman x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange zoe x reader #aot fluff #snk fluff

603 notes · View notes

kiribakuswife · 25 days ago

Text

Love Thy Neighbor

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

Kinktober day 14!!

There was something weird about your next door neighbor. You had moved in about a month ago, and every interaction you had was not exactly what you had imagined. It was a small neighborhood, and you had gotten close with nearly every other neighbor around you; everyone besides the grumpy man next door.

It started your first day after moving in. Ever the hostess, you decided to bring cookies to all of your neighbors, sort of as an introduction sort of thing. It went great until you reached the last house in your loop, smiling brightly with your last batch of cookies as you knocked on the door. Your smile didn’t falter as the door opened slowly, revealing an exhausted looking man. You had to admit to yourself he was quite handsome, hair pulled back as his blank expression looked down at you.

“Hi!” You said, “I just wanted to introduce myself! I just moved in next door, my name’s (y/n).” You beamed at him as his eyes followed your thumb pointing to your house. “I brought these for you.” You continued, holding out the tray for him. He stared down at it briefly before looking back to you with a quizzical look.

“Why?” He asked, with a brow raised. You flattered for only a second, stumbling over your words. You had thought it was pretty normal. No one else had questioned you.

“Um, as a welcome, I guess?” Your response sounded more like a question, even to your own ears, causing you to cringe internally as his heavy gaze watched you intently.

“I don’t take food from strangers.” Was all he said, closing the door gently in your face, causing you to defleat, both with embarrassment and relief that his stupidly captivating eyes were no longer on you.

The next time you saw him, you were outside planting flowers, trying to add some light into your incredibly bare front yard. He was leaving the house in a suit, looking far more put together from the last time you saw him. His hair was brushed back off his forehead, allowing you to get a good look at him this time as you squinted up at him from below your sun hat. He was clean shaven this time, a scar under his eyes, pulling you in a way you didn’t want to think about.

“Hi neighbor!” You called, waving at him. He seemed to pause for a moment, startled by your voice. He waved a hand awkwardly in your direction, as you stood, wiping your hands on your apron before making your way over to the waist high fence that separated your yard. “I never got your name.” You prompted, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand.

“Shouta.” He provided plainly, squinting at you as he went to open the door to his car. “You have dirt on your face, (y/n).” Your face flamed as he got into the car, driving off as you watched, gaping. You weren’t sure if the blush was from embarrassment from smearing dirt on your face or from the fact that he had actually remembered your name.

The fact that he had actually remembered your name spurred you on though. You didn’t have to be best friends, but you were determined to at least develop some sort of acquaintance ship with him. The type of relationship where you wouldn’t feel bad if you had to ask him for a cup of sugar or something.

It had continued on like that for a few weeks, a few words here and there as you passed each other. His hours were weird, typically working throughout the day, concluding he might have been a teacher or something, but every so often he wouldn’t come home until late in the evening, headlights shining through your window as you curled on the couch. It wasn’t like you were stalking him, you worked from home, your office window looking out onto the street. It wasn’t like you were trying to learn more about him than the little bit you had pulled out from your brief conversations. It wasn’t like you were interested in him or anything. Nothing like that.

The summer had turned into fall, morphing into winter as snow began to fall outside the window. He was home today, sort of confirming your teacher theory as the news droned in the background, calling out the cancellation of certain schools due to the weather. With the weather as nasty as it was, you decided it was time to bake. The warmth of a fresh out of the oven pie as the snow piled outside your window was a feeling next to nothing and you smiled to yourself as you pulled ingredients out of the cabinets.

You had everything you needed for a pumpkin pie, everything except the eggs. You grimaced as you looked outside. The snow was only piling higher, and even if you did trust your car to get to the store without sliding off the road into a ditch, you would have to unearth it from the snow to even start the drive. A pie was not worth that effort,deciding today was going to be a lazy day as soon as you woke. As you looked outside weighing your options, your eyes suddenly flicked next door. Shouta! He was sure to at least have two eggs!

You rushed to the door, pulling on a jacket, boots, a hat and a scarf before throwing the door open. The chill from the wind ripped into you as you marched down your drive and up his. You regretted not grabbing a pair of gloves as your hands shook, red as you knocked on his door. He sure took his time coming, shivering on his porch as he swung the door open, almost looking concerned as he took you in.

“Are you alright, (y/n)? What are you doing out here?” He questioned before you could speak, brows pulled together as he scanned you over.

“Hello Shouta!” You smiled at him, “I’ve come to ask if I could pretty please borrow two eggs.” You asked, placing your hands together and squeezing your eyes shut. He said nothing as you waited, cracking an eye open.

“You braved this shit for two eggs?” He asked, opening up the door further, gesturing you inside. “Come in, I’ll grab them.”

“Thank you!” You cheered, following him inside as he grunted out a reply, moving deeper into the house as you bounced on your toes by the closed door, trying to warm up. His home was sort of what you had expected, clean and quite minimal as you looked around. It seemed cozy though, a fire burning in the fireplace and a book placed open on the table, a blanket pooled on the couch. You almost felt bad for bothering him as he approached from the kitchen, eggs in hand.

“Ah, thank you! I owe you!” You smiled up at him as he held them out to you. “I’m making a pumpkin pie, I’ll bring you some!” You decided as he nodded.

“Perhaps wait until after the storm to come back out.” He said, and you could have sworn you saw a hint of a smile across his face.

“Only because you said so,” You winked at him, pulling your scarf tighter as you turned to the door. “Thank you again, Shouta. I totally owe you.” You added with a wave as you exited, braving the cold as you hustled back home, a stay warm! Echoing behind you.

You had seen less of him in the days following the storm. The streets had been cleared, and the only interaction you had actually had was the plate left on your doorstep with a note saying “Pie was great. Thank you.” Maybe it was the end of the grading period, you reasoned as you looked outside. He was gone before you woke in the morning, and didn’t get home until way late in the night. You almost missed the little waves he had started sending in your direction as he drove off in the morning, or the small conversations you had as you conveniently had to take the trash out as he pulled in.

You shut off your computer with a sigh, heading into the kitchen to scrounge together a dinner of whatever little bits of foods you could find in the fridge, leaning against the counter as you scrolled on your phone. You nearly jumped out of your skin as a stern knock rang out, banging on your door. It was dark outside, nerves setting in as you read the time. It was nearly midnight, no reason for anyone to be knocking. You glanced out the window as you approached the door cautiously. Shouta had gotten home at some point, and you hoped that if something happened and you screamed loud enough he would at least call the police for you.

The knock came again as you grabbed the knob, honestly starting to get annoyed with whoever was on the other side. If they were banging on your door at midnight, they could at least have some patience. You nearly fell back as you swung the door open at the sight before you. Shouta stood on your porch, breathing heavily as he stared into your soul.

“(y/n) I-” He cut himself off, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry to bother you, I don’t know what’s come over me.” he shrank into the shadows of your porch, stepping back as his nose flared.

“What happened, are you alright?” You rushed out, reaching a hand out to grab his arm as he stumbled back further. He was dressed differently, all back with a heavy looking belt, a gray scarf wrapped tight around him. He shook his head again, trying to pull his arm away before freezing as he looked down at you. You squirmed in his gaze, you hadn’t even thought to throw on a jacket or something over your thin tank top as you opened the door, chills going through your skin at the icy air, nipples hardening to a point.

“Did you mean it?” His voice was low, almost a whisper as you shook your head, not having a clue what he was talking about, “When you said you owed me.” He explained, grabbing onto your own arm, embarrassingly making you lean into him. His words sent a spark through you, a spark you had been trying to snuff out since you first stood on his doorstep offering him cookies.

“Of course.” You mumbled out, eyes caught in his own.

“I was hit with a quirk.” He explained, guiding you back into your open doorway. “But I promise you, this is not just because of the quirk.” he slammed your door shut behind him, dragging you further into your house. He looked around, finally pulling you up the stairs. “Room?” he asked suddenly, whipping around to you.

“Room? What? What is going on?” Your head spun, gesturing to a door down the hall anyway.

“Can I fuck you?” he asked bluntly as he dragged you through the doorway, causing you to choke.

“Well I’m not going to say no.” You laughed awkwardly. You wouldn’t lie to yourself, you had fantasized about him in your bed more than once, and you were going to take the chance if it presented itself to you his words of it’s not just because of the quirk echoing in your mind. “What do you mean by the quirk what happened?” You questioned, breath catching as he pulled you close, hands sliding under your shirt as his lips fell on your neck.

“Stupid fucking sex quirk.” He breathed out, “Makes you irresistibly horny for the one you’re most attracted to.” His words made you flush, suddenly feeling almost too hot as he lifted you, legs coming around his waist as he led you to the bed.

“Most attracted to?” You squeaked as he dropped you, soon coming back and capturing your lips on his own as a response. Your shirt was fully pushed up now, his hands cupping your breasts in a way that had you moaning into his mouth.

“I’ll tell you everything later.” He huffed out as he pulled back, a heavy gaze falling down to watch as he massaged your boobs. “I’m sorry if I came off as rude.” He continued, pulling your shirt over your head, his own following. “You make me-” He cut himself off with a groan as he ground against you, causing you to arch into him. “Fucking insane.” he finished, pulling back to yank off your shorts.

“In a good way?” You asked, trying for a joke but failing as you moaned out, his fingers sliding along your entrance.

“The best way.” He answered, sliding a finger inside and curling it, your hips bucking. He added another finger, easing you open. “I won’t be able to be gentle with you.” he sighed out, almost sounding disappointed as he pulled his fingers out, causing you to whine at the loss.

“I never said I wanted you to be.” You whispered out, watching as a smug grin split his face as he leaned back, pulling down his pants.

His cock was incredibly hard, almost looking painful as he looked down at you below him, stripped bare, legs spread wide and cheeks flushed. “You’re irresistible, you know that.” he cooed down at you, hair falling in his face as he looked down, guiding his cock to slide along your core. You groaned at the sensation, breaking out into a high pitched moan as he slid in roughly, entirely in one motion.

His pace was almost brutal as he gripped your hips, pinning you to the bed as you cried out below him. “Look at you…” He said, brushing your hair back from your face as he grunted, “Just letting me in to fuck you.” You cried out at his words, your moans filling your empty halls. Your brain had officially left your body as you melted into him, pliant in whatever he wanted from you.

Your voice only raised in volume as his hand snaked down between you, finding your clit and rubbing with a brutality that matched his thrust, the pleasure almost making it hard to breathe. You felt the pressure increase, and knew you were close, far closer than you imagined. He leaned down, sucking harshly at your nipple, and with that you were done, nearly screaming his name as you came around him. He moaned at the feeling, hips stuttering before pulling out suddenly, grasping his cock in his hand, and with a few jerky movements he was cumming too, painting your skin with thick ropes.

He held his eyes tightly shut as he came, stilling above you. He looked like a god in this light, and for this moment he was yours. “I’ll grab you a towel.” He murmured, finally pulling away from you. Your eyes followed him as he left the room, brain finally deciding to reconnect as you asked yourself what the fuck just happened?

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #mha smut #mha x reader #mha #smut #aizawa shouta #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa shōta #aizawa smut #sex pollon #sex quirk

327 notes · View notes

slytherinshua · 3 months ago

Text

genre: fluff. soft thoughts. best friends to lovers. warnings: taesan runs away from his feelings and doesn't want to admit he's in love lmao. almost leading reader on... not proofread. rambling type of writing so very very messy. pairing: taesan x reader. wc: 517. request: @mjupis here. a/n: okay now that i know its for taesan let me expand on it hehe. divider by @/thetaey and @/bucciniexe. net: @onedoornet

this man would actually be hopelessly whipped and he has no idea how to deal with the emotions. cause he's been best friends with you for literally years and only now he's wondering why he wants to kiss you every time he sees you.

he tries writing songs about you in hopes that the emotions would stop... but they only grow. but he seriously doesn't want to admit it. he's just like yeah they're a great person but.... i don't like them romantically. i just think they're pretty or whatever.

you naturally are hanging out and end up watching a movie, slowly snuggling closer and closer to each other. you don't mind when dongmin ends up resting his head on your shoulder, you think that maybe he's just tired or something. but the fact that you didn't immediately push him off or call him weird for cuddling when you were only supposed to be best friends unlocks a different way for him to work through emotions.

it's not often, maybe 1 in every 10 times he hangs out with you, but whenever it gets overwhelming how much you have an effect on him, he'll hug you or cuddle you. if you were in the kitchen making a batch of late night cookies, he would come up behind you and give you a back hug. if you were hanging out on your bed together talking, he would find a way to shift so his head was in your lap. he's really good at making it subtle and slowly progressing to be a bit bolder, so it takes you a while to realize just how common of an occurrence it's become.

one in ten times soon becomes every time and then he throws kisses in there. only on your hands or cheek... maybe the top of your head sometimes. you want to ask him about it, because you could excuse the cuddles as possibly just him being touch starved or clingy, but kissing feels like he's hinting at something more.

you like him, but you aren't the type of person to confess and risk ruining a friendship. your feelings for him aren't overwhelming you like they are for dongmin, so you wait and see. but next come the petnames. it really just slipped out on accident.

"baby, do you have any chips?" while he was rummaging through your snack cabinet. the little nickname sends a flurry of butterflies to you and that's when you realize that you hope to god he does like you because otherwise you would end up heartbroken. maybe his smooth casual way of slowly starting to act like he was your boyfriend ended up making you catch feelings more, but you find the courage to ask him about it.

he's really embarrassed and scared that you're finally addressing it, because he's too much of a loser to even admit that it was happening. but eventually he has to give in and accept it. he does like you, and if you're willing to call him your boyfriend then he'd be the happiest man on earth <3

↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,

@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @blossominghunnie,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,

@wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @emmylksblog,,

@talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,,

@hrtsvivis,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @kristianities,, @gong-fourz,,

@nonononranghaee

286 notes · View notes

the-bitter-ocean · 21 days ago

Text

( ISAT OPTIONAL ACHIEVEMENT SPOILERS) I finally get to post the writing I made for @sharkylass Isa looping au “In Repetition and Change” which is very cool and everyone should check it out! I wanted to try and make my own take on what the interactions for a memory of puns achievement would look like ^_^. Writing is under the cut:

[ You’re back here again. ]

[ Sif should be arriving right around…]

<| “Isa!!!”|>

[ …Now.]

[ Sif comes along to greet you at the start of every loop. ]

[ He makes a pun about the favor tree and the two of you banter- making each other laugh. ]

[ Every time afterwards, you think of reaching out to him… but you usually tend to chicken out before doing anything. ]

[ It’s cowardly behavior sure, but you’d rather play it safe than ruin anything.]

[ It’s a routine that has never deviated, at least not in any way that was notable to you. ]

<| “..Isa? Are you okay?”|>

[…?]

[ “Oh uh..sorry Sif! Didn’t mean to zone out like that!”]

[ Okay genius, think of something!! He’s getting worried about you!!]

[“..I was just lost in thought thinking about the Favor Tree! Isn’t it cool?”]

[ You make sure to smile. You hope that’s enough.]

<| Sif smiles back at you. |>

<| “..Yeah it is..!”|>

[ Siffrin has the look that they’d only make right before making a pun.]

<| “One could say it's a pretty..."|>

[ You get ready for it.]

[“Uh-huh?”]

<|"...TREE-mendous tree."|>

[ You do your best to laugh convincingly and focus on the information you’ve heard dozens of times before. ]

[“Right right, sleepover at the clock tower. Sounds like a ton of fun!”]

[ It’s not like you’d go anywhere else. ]

=> [ Do you need anything from me?]

=> [ Stop talking. ]

[ You don’t really feel like talking anymore and you can’t think of anything new to say. ]

[ Sif looks at you and frowns a little. ]

<| “…?”|>

<| “..Alright that’s it..my turn!”|>

[…]

<| “…okay a good joke.. what’s a good joke to make-“|>

[ Did he not realize that you could hear them muttering? ]

[ You’ve done this a couple of times already but you find yourself still repeating your usual lines. ]

[ “..Huh? What for?”]

[ You tilt your head and do your best to act confused and unassuming. ]

[ It’s what you’re best at. ]

[ You already know the answer as to why Sif is doing all of this for you. ]

[ They told you a few loops ago.]

[ Sif did all of this to make you happy.. because the two of you are friends. ]

[ It’s awfully sweet of them isn’t it? ]

[ You really don’t deserve that kindness at all… but you keep those thoughts to yourself because you’re smart. ]

[ Besides it’s nice to hear it again even if you’ve heard it all before. ]

[It’s reassuring to hear someone say they care about you. ]

[ So you will sit here and listen through the same batch of jokes, like you always have. ]

<| “…!!!! Oh- well because you seemed sad. So I wanted to make you laugh! It might help you feel better.”|>

<|…?|>

[Sif looks around and their gaze focuses on the Clocktower in the distance. ]

<| “Ooh, I know! Why did the clock get kicked out of the library?”|>

[“.. I don’t know, why?”]

<| “Because It tocked too much!”|>

[…]

<| “..Oh so you must’ve heard that one already then huh?”|>

[…?!]

[ You forgot to laugh. ]

[ Sif waves his hands and laughs awkwardly. ]

<| “.. It’s okay! I have way more puns at my disposal, so I’ll just find a new one.”|>

[ While Sif is thinking of a new joke to make, you remind yourself to actually respond this time. ]

<| “How do clocks greet each other?”|>

<| “They say h-“|>

[“Hour you doing?”]

<|…!|>

[ Sif falters at your response for a second before recovering. ]

[He laughs awkwardly. ]

<| “..You knew that one too.. I must’ve told you earlier and forgot.. haha..”|>

<| “…Stars, I’m really off my game today arent I?”|>

[ When has acting like a know it all ever helped you? Why did you say that? ]

[ He clearly just wants to help you and all you ended up doing is making him upset instead! ]

[ No, you need to calm down. You can still salvage this. ]

[ Let’s try this again. ]

[ “Oh crab- I didn’t mean to take your joke, Sif!”]

[“If you have any more you’d like to share then I’d be happy to hear it, okay?”]

<| “..! Oh okay? If you say so, Isa.”|>

[ Siffrin nods and scrunches up their face. ]

[ It’s clear they’re trying extremely hard to think of a pun you haven’t already heard from them yet. ]

[ Siffrin mumbled to themselves again. This time it’s barely audible. ]

<| “..Please be funny please be funny please be funny...”|>

[…?]

<| “..! Okay I think I got it..”|>

<| “A fashion designer made a belt with clocks printed on it for a time traveller…”|>

[…? Oh, that’s a new one! ]

[ Sif noticed your brief look of surprise and smiles. ]

<| “Do you know what they called it, Isa?”|>

[ You shake your head no in response to the question and let Siffrin answer. ]

[“No, I don’t. What did they call it, Sif?”]

<| “A waist of time!”|>

[…?!]

[ Heh.]

[Ha..AHAHHAHAHAHAHA]

[ You laugh and laugh and laugh. You can’t seem to stop. ]

<| “Yes! I knew I still got it-“|>

[ The joke wasn’t even that funny but you feel tears start to prick at your eyes ]

<| “..?! Isa??”|>

[ Can’t you see that the joke is over now? ]

[ He’s going to think you’re being weird!!!]

[ You struggle at it, but you somehow manage to force yourself to take a deep breath in and out. ]

[ You smile and give a shaky thumbs up to Sif. ]

[ He hesitantly smiles at you back.]

[ “..Thank you Sif, I really needed that.”]

<| “..? Are you..”|>

[ Sif looked like they wanted to say something else but stopped himself. ]

<| “..Nevermind. I’m glad I could help cheer you up for a bit, Isa.”|>

<| “I’m going to go to the clocktower now!”|>

<| “Let me know if you need anything from me, okay?”|>

[ Siffrin waves goodbye and runs off. You watch him go.]

[[ You got a MEMORY OF PUNS. ]]

[ You will always remember this.]

[[ When Memory of Puns is equipped, your Dramaturgist will have a higher chance of landing a critical hit on an enemy.]]

#in repetition and change #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #isat siffrin #in stars and time #in stars and time game #isat game #isat #isat fanfic #in stars and time fanfic #isat au #in stars and time au #isat isabeau #in stars and time isabeau #the bitter ocean writes #isat act 2 spoilers #isat act 3 spoilers #in stars and time siffrin

200 notes · View notes

nahoney22 · 3 months ago

Note

Congrats on 4500 followers!!! You’ve come so far and I feel so blessed whenever you’re writing blesses my feed ❤️

May I please request the bad batch and any other clone(s) of your choice learning that the reader (gender neutral) has a bunch of tattoos and they didn’t know because reader is always covered? Perhaps they find out when reader gets injured, or they walk in on reader changing, maybe things get spicy…Could be nsfw, sfw, or anything in between, your choice!

Have an absolutely wonderful day and may your writing grow and flourish!

Tattoo’s***🌊

🫧 All The Bad Batch Boys, Fives & Rex X Gender Neutral!Reader

How the Bad Batch Boys including Rex and Fives react to you having tattoo’s.

warnings: Some are safe for work and others are quite spicy so there is a 18+ warning. Gender neutral reader, tattooed reader, kisses, touchy-feely, flirting, accidental voyeurism, some friends to lovers, friends with benefits, strip poker, nudity, neck biting and kissing, some flustered clones and reader.

a/n: sorry for the wait @ihavemanychickens, hope this is okay. And thanks @probadbatch for the strip poker idea 🔥 🩵🫧

Echo

"Take a seat here; I’ll grab the medkit," Echo ordered as soon as you stepped onto the ship, guiding you to lean against a nearby crate.

You had taken a minor hit—a blaster bolt grazing your calf. The pain was sharp, but you were certain it wasn't anything serious.

As you lowered yourself onto the crate with a wince, you rolled up your pant leg to inspect the wound—a deep graze, but nothing too alarming.

Echo approached, kneeling in front of you. "Let’s have a look."

You appreciated his quick response and care, but you noticed his gaze lingering on your leg. "Is everything okay?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," he replied quickly, shaking off his distraction as he retrieved some bacta spray. "I just didn't know you had tattoos."

You paused, realising this might be the first time any of the Batch had seen more of your skin beyond your hands and face. You weren't exactly in the habit of undressing in front of them. "I thought I mentioned it before."

"Not to me," Echo chuckled, carefully applying the spray. He winced sympathetically when you did, apologising as he dressed and bandaged the wound. "I think I would have remembered."

You shrugged casually. "I've had them for a while. Planning to add more, actually." You smiled as he stood, taking one last look at your leg before rolling the fabric back down.

"Oh yeah? Got any ideas?" he asked, genuinely curious despite lacking any ink himself.

You began to list off a few ideas, and as you did, you noticed how interested he seemed. "What about you?" you asked as you carefully hopped off the crate, putting minimal pressure on your leg. "Ever thought about getting one?"

He considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "Not really my thing, but they look really good on you."

"Thanks, Echo," you replied, touched by his compliment. He even appeared flustered by his own choice of words. "I’m pretty much covered. I could show you some more sometime?"

You meant it innocently, but the thought of Echo seeing more of your tattoos, and thus more of you, froze both of you in place. His wide eyes mirrored your own as you both stumbled over your words, trying to recover. Fortunately, a transmission started to come through, saving you from further awkwardness.

Who knows, maybe one day you would show him more.

Hunter

“Hey, have you seen my—?” Hunter’s words died in his throat as he stepped onto the Marauder, not expecting to find you in a state of partial undress.

Your back was to him, revealing tattoos that he hadn't known were there. He’d seen the small ones around your ankles before, but this was different. This was...a lot more.

You turned quickly, eyes wide as you grabbed your shirt to cover yourself. Hunter cleared his throat, awkwardly tapping his hand against the ship's wall. "Sorry, I, uh, I should’ve knocked."

"Don’t worry about it," you replied, trying to downplay the situation. "What were you looking for?"

Hunter blinked, trying to recall what he had come for. "I was looking for...you know what? It doesn’t matter." He chuckled, attempting to break the tension. "I didn’t realise you had so many tattoos."

"Oh," you started, feeling a slight flush of heat creep into your cheeks. "Yeah, my back has the most. My legs and arms are pretty much bare."

"And the ones on your ankles," he added, a small smile playing on his lips.

You nodded with a grin. "And the ones on my ankles."

An odd silence settled between you, both unsure of what to say next. You leaned against one of the consoles, watching him as he seemed to look everywhere but at you. "Do you have more than one tattoo?" you asked, pointing to your face where his was on his own.

"Just the one. But it’s, uh, bigger than you’d think."

"It is?" you asked, genuinely surprised.

"It goes all the way down to my hip," he revealed casually, his tone as smooth as ever.

Your eyes widened. How had you never known that? Then again, you both had your secrets. "Really? That’s...cool." Without thinking, you added, "I’d love to see it."

Hunter’s eyes met yours, a spark of interest in his gaze. "I could show you if you want."

You nodded, trying to act nonchalant as your heart rate picked up. You watched as he began to peel off his shirt, revealing his tanned, toned, and muscular build. Your eyes traced over the intricate design of his tattoo as it spread down his ribcage, disappearing into the waistband of his pants. You couldn’t lie, the sight of him stripping his clothes off to show you what he had hidden did something to you… it was literally impossible to focus on anything else.

"Well?" Hunter asked, a teasing grin on his face as he caught you staring. Even worse, you were even biting your lip as you practically drooled over him. You sincerely hope he didn’t hear the way your heart thundered in your chest but you doubt it.

You swallowed, managing a small smile as you met his gaze. "It’s...impressive," you said, voice soft but genuine.

Hunter chuckled, pulling his shirt back on, though the heat between you lingered. "Thanks. Maybe next time, we can compare."

"Maybe," you replied, trying to sound casual, but the way your pulse raced suggested this was a moment you wouldn’t soon forget.

Wrecker

"Headed to the gym? Mind if I join ya?" Wrecker asked, catching you mid-motion as you pulled on your workout shoes. Being back on Kamino meant access to some of the best training facilities, and you weren't about to pass that up.

You glanced up and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Want me to wait for you?"

"Nah, no need. I'll meet you there. Gotta finish up something first," Wrecker replied, already eager to start lifting.

You smiled and headed off to the gym. You started with an intense cardio session, like usual, working up a sweat quickly. The heat made you shrug off your jacket, leaving you in your training tank top. As you moved on to weights, you focused on your form, muscles tensing and relaxing with each rep.

A little while later, Wrecker strolled into the gym, ready to go. He stalls as he noticed you lifting, your body glistening with sweat, muscles working in sync—and the tattoos.

His eyes widened at the sight; he’d never seen so many on you before. He knew you had some but not to this extent. Watching you move, the way your inked skin flexed with every rep, stirred something in him. And in his pants that seemed to get oppressively tighter.

You caught his gaze in the mirror, noticing the way he was staring. Turning to face him, you raised an eyebrow. "What’s got your attention?"

He blinked, flustered at being caught. "Uh, nothin'! Just, uh... your tattoos! Didn’t know ya had that many.”

You chuckled, setting the weights down. "Yeah, most people don’t notice unless I’m dressed down like this." You took a step closer, giving him a playful smile. "Like what you see?" You ask with your hands on your hips.

Wrecker swallowed, clearly caught off guard by your forwardness, but he wasn’t about to back down. "Y-Yeah! I mean, they look... really good. You look really good," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he met your eyes.

You grinned, pleased by his reaction. "Thanks. It’s nice to know they get some appreciation." You paused for a moment, your eyes locking with his. "Ever thought about getting one yourself?"

Wrecker laughed, his sudden nerves easing a bit. "Me? Nah, I dunno if I could sit still that long.” And then he takes a bolt of courage. “But maybe I could get used to seeing 'em on you."

The flirtation in his tone wasn’t lost on you, and you felt a spark of excitement. "Well, maybe you should keep coming to the gym with me then. Could be good motivation for both of us."

His grin widened, the tension between you warm but playful. "I think I just might. Gotta keep an eye on those tattoos... and make sure you're not skippin' leg day," he teased, eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and interest as his eyes roamed your body.

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge as you picked up your weights again. "You do that, Wrecker."

As you continued your workout, you could feel his gaze lingering on you, the atmosphere charged with a new energy. It seemed like these gym sessions were about to get a lot more interesting.

Tech

You crouched beside Tech, helping him with a particularly intricate wiring task on the Marauder. The fabric of your gloves proved too cumbersome, so you slipped them off, deciding your bare hands would offer better precision.

As you worked, Tech glanced over, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something new—delicate, intricate tattoos on your fingers. He hadn’t noticed them before, and the sight of them seemed to capture his full attention.

“I was not aware you had tattoos,” he said, a note of surprise in his voice. Without thinking, he gently took your hand in his, turning it slightly to get a better look. Tech wasn’t typically one for physical touch, so this unexpected action caught you slightly off guard.

You blinked, feeling a warmth rise to your cheeks as he inspects you like data. "Yeah, they’re easy to miss, I guess," you replied, feeling your heart race a little faster.

Tech’s thumb brushed over one of the designs, his touch both curious and reverent. “Tattoos can be meaningful,” he began, his voice taking on that familiar tone of fascination. “The process, the permanence, the cultural significance… all of it is so intriguing. Did you know—” He cut himself off, his eyes meeting yours as he took a deep breath. “What I really mean to say is I have always found you attractive, but this-these tattoos- they just add to it.”

His confession left you momentarily speechless. "You find me attractive?" you asked, needing to hear it again to believe it.

Tech nodded, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. “Yes. I have for some time now. I find myself even more drawn to you.”

You felt your breath hitch, his words sinking in and making your pulse quicken. "I have more, you know," you said softly, a playful edge to your voice. "If you’re interested in seeing them… maybe somewhere more comfortable?"

A flicker of excitement passed through Tech’s eyes, and he gave you a small, genuine smile. "I would like that."

You stood, leading him to a quieter corner of the ship. As you removed your jacket, revealing more of the intricate tattoos on your arms, Tech’s gaze followed every movement, his expression full of admiration.

“May I?” he asked softly, his hands hovering just above your skin.

You nodded, feeling a thrill as his fingers traced the designs on your arms. His touch was light, sending shivers through you. "There are more on my legs," you added, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I’d have to take off my pants to show you."

Tech swallowed, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "I would love to see them," he replied, his voice huskier than before.

With a small smile, you slowly undid your pants, sliding them down to reveal the tattoos on your legs. Tech’s eyes widened slightly, his admiration for your body art clear in his expression.

"You’re incredible," he murmured, his hands resting on your thighs, fingers tracing the designs with care. The warmth of his touch and the weight of his words made your heart pound.

“I’m really not,” you gush, turning around so Tech could also see the back of your legs and maybe something else.

“You are being modest for someone dressed so immodestly.” Tech’s eyes darkened slightly, eyes landing on your arse. Without another word, he spins you to face him and leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours.

As your hand wrap around the back of his neck, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy, as you both gave in to the moment. Tech’s hands roamed over your body, feeling the curves and lines of your tattoos, and you felt a rush of warmth as his touch ignited a fire within you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Tech looked at you with a mix of awe and affection. "I have wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed, his voice sincere.

You smiled, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Well, I’m glad you finally did."

Crosshair

It had become something of a routine between you and Crosshair—whenever you were alone, it was only a matter of time before things heated up. Today was no different. “It’s been too long since I last had you,”

You stood in front of him, your back against his toned chest as his hands firmly grip your hips as his lips traced along your neck, alternating between soft kisses and rougher bites.

As he moved closer to your ear, his sharp eyes caught sight of something he hadn’t noticed before—a small, delicate tattoo hidden just behind your ear. His lips paused in their assault, and you felt him stiffen slightly behind you. “You’ve been keeping secrets,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. His fingers brushed over the tiny tattoo, making your skin tingle.

You smirked, leaning back into him. “Maybe you’re just not as observant as you think,” you teased, your tone laced with challenge. “You seem to spend more time paying attention to what’s between my legs than to the ink on my skin.”

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on your hips tightening as he pressed his body against yours. “You think so?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe I’ll have to change that.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your pulse quickening as his hands started to roam over your body, pushing your shirt up to expose more of your skin. “You should get a tattoo just for me,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark intent. “Maybe a little crosshair… right here,” he suggested, his fingers tracing a spot on your arm. “Or here,” he added, his hand moving to your chest, brushing just above your heart.

You bit your lip, your breath hitching as he slowly undressed you, his hands and words sending sparks of anticipation through your body. “Or maybe here,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his hand slid down to cup your arse, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your heart raced, every touch and every word of his making you more and more aware of how hard he was against you. He leaned in closer once you turned to face him, his mouth hovering just above yours. “Or how about… right under your tongue,” he growled, his voice thick with a slight possessiveness, before slipping his tongue into your mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.

The kiss was intense, his tongue dominating yours as his hands continued to undress you, peeling away the last of your clothes. You barely registered when he lifted you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his bunk.

You could feel his ache, hard and insistent, pressing against your stomach, making you tremble with your own need. He laid you down on the bunk, his body hovering over yours. “I think you’d look good with my mark on you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “That way my brothers know to keep away from what is mine.”

“I’m yours, am I?” You grin, your hand sliding down between your bodies and between his legs.

“Yes. Mine.”

And as his mouth found yours again, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, a tiny crosshair tattoo wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

Rex

The 501st had finally earned a brief respite after a grueling mission, and the team scattered to enjoy some well-deserved downtime. Rex, however, found himself preoccupied. It was time to regroup, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Jesse,” Rex called out, spotting the trooper near a makeshift campsite and asked about your whereabouts.

Jesse glanced up from where he was lounging. “Last I saw, they were headed down to the lake. Said something about needing a dip to cool off.”

Rex nodded his thanks and he made his way toward the lake. You always had a knack for slipping away, but something about the thought of you swimming alone somewhat nagged at him. He figured he’d better go fetch you himself.

The path to the lake was serene, the sounds of nature a welcome change from the usual chaos of battle. But as Rex approached the water's edge, his breath caught in his throat.

You were emerging from the lake, the sun glistening off the droplets of water clinging to your skin. For a moment, Rex simply stared, his mind going blank as he took in the sight before him. Your wet skin gleamed in the golden light, but it wasn’t just the natural beauty of the scene that struck him—it was the tattoos.

He’d never seen them before, intricate designs that seemed to flow with the contours of your body. They were subtle, yet striking, adding an unexpected allure to the person he thought he knew so well.

You noticed him standing there and began to approach, water dripping from your body with each step. As you got closer, Rex suddenly felt very out of place. Trying to shake off his surprise, he cleared his throat. "Your, uh, towel," he said, gesturing vaguely behind you, trying to mask the way his eyes kept wandering back to the tattoos.

You chuckled softly, amused by his sudden awkwardness. “Right,” you said, turning to grab your towel and wrapping it around yourself before facing him again. “Something on your mind, Captain?”

Rex met your gaze, feeling heat rise to his cheeks—a rare occurrence for someone as composed as him. “I didn’t know you had tattoos,” he admitted, his voice a little higher pitched than he intended. “They suit you.” He finishes after clearing his throat.

You smiled, noticing the way his eyes still seemed drawn to the ink on your skin. “Thanks. They’ve been there a while, just not something I show off all the time.” You took a step closer, tilting your head slightly as you gave him a once-over. “What about you? Anything hiding under that armour?”

He felt his pulse quicken at your boldness, your gaze holding his with a teasing glint. Normally, he was the one in control, the one giving orders. But right now, under your mesmerising eyes, he felt a little out of his depth—and oddly, he didn’t mind.

Summoning a bit of courage, Rex allowed himself to relax, just a touch. “No tattoos,” he admitted, though the thought of getting one never sounded more appealing than it did in that moment. He paused, then added, “Maybe we could talk about it sometime. Over a drink?”

Your smile widened, pleased by his offer. “I’d like that, Captain,” you replied, the title sounding more like a term of endearment than a rank.

Rex gave you a nod, trying to keep his expression steady, though his mind was already racing with the possibilities what that drink might lead to. “Good,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Fives

You and Fives had been spending more time together than usual, which led to playful jokes and fun and eventually, a daring suggestion by Fives: strip poker. Since both of you were always ready for a challenge, it wasn’t long before you found yourselves seated across from each other, cards in hand.

The first few rounds were harmless enough—boots, belts, gloves—but as the game progressed, more significant pieces of clothing began to shed. Fives, ever the showman, made a big deal out of every win, laughing and teasing you as you reluctantly removed another item. But what caught his attention most was when your tattoos started to reveal themselves.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Fives said, his eyes widening with pleasant surprise as he saw the first hints of ink on your skin. “I didn’t know you had tattoos!”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as you revealed a bit more with each lost round. “I guess it never came up,” you teased back, your heart racing not just from the game but from the way his gaze seemed to linger on every new detail of your body. And admittedly, you admired his tone and muscular torso also.

Fives grin widens as more of your tattoos came into view. “They’re pretty awesome,” he complimented, clearly enjoying the discovery. “I’m starting to think losing isn’t so bad after all.”

But then, his eyes locked onto a specific tattoo, and his playful expression shifted to one of surprise. It was a simple design, but one that he recognised all too well—a number 5.

“Wait, hold on—” He leaned in closer, pointing at the tattoo with a mix of shock and amusement. “Is that a 5? Did you get a tattoo for me?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by his excitement. “What? No!” you quickly explained, realising how it looked. “It’s not for you, Fives. It’s just a coincidence.”

Fives however wasn’t having it as his smile shifted into a mischievous smirk, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Sure, it is. Admit it, you’re secretly obsessed with me,” he teased, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure, but Fives wasn’t letting this one go. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, challenging tone. “Come on, admit it. It’s for me. I knew I was your favourite.”

The heat of the moment—combined with the growing awareness of how little clothing both of you were wearing—made your heart race. “Fives,” you warned, but your tone lacked any real bite. The truth was, his playful determination was getting to you, making it hard to keep up the act.

Seeing you start to falter, Fives pressed on, moving closer until your faces were only inches apart. “Say it,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Say it’s for me.”

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, your voice betraying how much you were enjoying this. But before you could think of a comeback, Fives closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss.

The intensity of the kiss caught you off guard, eyes wide, but you quickly melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and into his lap. The realisation of how nude you both had become only fueled the fire between you.

Fives pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “So, you’re not denying it then?”

You laughed breathlessly. “Maybe it’s time you focus on winning the game instead of running your mouth,” you challenged, though your voice was laced with affection as your lips ghost against his.

He grinned, before he pulled you back in for another searing kiss. “I’m already winning,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, exploring the tattoos that had started this whole thing.

🌊 Masterlist is pinned 🌊

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb b @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @lulalovez

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings

372 notes · View notes

nickfowlerrr · 1 year ago

Text

can you feel it?

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (soulmate au)

warnings: really nothing but fluff. mentions of light baking burns. lmk if something needs to be tagged.

words: 2.3k

notes: this is my entry for @lunarbuck’s soulmate challenge. i used the prompt: you cannot feel pain until you meet your soulmate.🩵 and thank you to @dreamlandcreations for beta reading/editing my first draft!

Mmm, you hummed mindlessly.

The sweet, warm aroma of your latest batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies swirled through your small bakery, filling your nose and eliciting a smile from you as you walked to the back counter, setting down the hot tray you were holding.

You slid off the oven mit you wore and tossed it carelessly before you spun around to get the last tray of dough in the oven.

Your fingers brushed the hot grate of the oven as you slipped the tray in, and though you couldn’t feel the pain or burn of it, you still mentally chided yourself for not being more careful.

It was mid-September, that time of year when summer was still the season, but fall was all around.

You had been messing with some seasonal recipes for the past few days and had most of your impending fall lineup set. You were going to start slow with the roll out, and today was the first day you’d have these cookies out in the display.

You were a bit overly excited, but you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that today would be a great day since you’d gotten up. Even Nickie calling to let you know she’d be late for her shift hadn’t dampened your mood.

You sipped from the straw of your cold brew, floating aimlessly around the quaint space while you were waiting for the cookies to cool, the oven to go off, or a customer to walk in. You’d swept the floor and cleaned the counters and tables a good three times now despite their already pristine state. It was a slow day, but you knew not to expect many people until after noon.

You eventually found yourself staring out the large glass window at the front of the shop, looking out onto the picturesque town street, watching the few passersby and the leaves that were blowing around; the branches of the trees that lined the streets swaying gently in the late summer breeze.

You weren’t sure why, but as you stood there gazing out the window, you suddenly found yourself growing eager, a sense of excitement coming over you. You felt like you were waiting for something…someone.

Just as the feelings were put into words in your mind, the ringing of the entrance bell sounded and pulled you from your thoughts. You tutted quietly at yourself before you turned and went to greet whoever it was.

You stopped short on your hello when you saw Nickie pulling off her cardigan.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you said with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

Nicki smiled guiltily, “Sorry,” she offered through a nervous titter, “Eli’s alarm didn’t go off, so we were both scrambling this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off her apology, “it’s been pretty quiet so far.”

“It smells amazing in here, did you make the pumpkin cookies?”

“Last batch is in the oven right now,” you nodded with a grin. “There’s some in the display case already, grab one, tell me what you think,” you said, walking over to meet her behind the counter.

You grasped your hands together while you leaned against the side of the register, anxious to get her thoughts.

Nickie grabbed a cookie and just as she was about to take a bite, the bell on the door rang again. You turned, smiling to offer your usual, “Hello, welcome in!”, but your voice caught in your throat when you did, only managing out a half hello.

Your eyes met steel blue as the man who had just entered stalled in his path for a brief second. He blinked then and seemed to correct his posture, clearing his throat, eyes never leaving yours, “Hi,” he offered.

“Welcome in,” you breathed, voice much quieter than you intended it to be.

You couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him as he approached the counter. He was tall, well built with dark hair, and god, those eyes. You could swim in them, they were so blue. He looked effortlessly cool, wearing a dark canvas jacket with the collar popped ever so slightly over a plain charcoal henley, his black jeans and boots completing the outfit as a chain of silver showed a bit from above his shirt collar. The dark color scheme worked well for the weather and for his features. The blue of his eyes even more emphasized by the color of his clothing. His jaw was square and sharp, and the structure of his cheekbones brought attention to the bags under his eyes. But they, along with his five o’clock shadow, only added to his aesthetic. You wondered if he knew that, if he was aware. You’d seen many a man who wore the same style, but it was so clearly put on. This seemed to be very him. Not that you knew him, of course, but still it was evident.

It occurred to you though, as cool as he seemed, there was the tiniest bit of pink coloring his cheeks as he slyly rubbed his neck, before he finally stood before you, that betrayed his air of cool.

Nickie looked between the two of you with a quirked brow as you began taking the man’s order.

Your fingers twiddled over the screen in your nervousness while he looked over the menu, musing aloud before he moved to walk the display case.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, a wave of self assurance growing over him as he casually shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to watch you as you forced your own hands to still before standing up a bit straighter at the question. It was innocent enough, despite the smoothness of his words and the smile that played on the corner of his lips as he recognized your fidgeting for what it is - your own nerves bounding around you.

“Oh, um,” you took a breath, thinking for a second, “I’m pretty partial to the classics, actually,” you said with a small smile, moving down a bit to be closer to where he stood, a bit of your own self assurance coming over you in turn. “The pink sugar cookie and the chocolate chip are probably the biggest sellers, too. But, in my humble opinion, you really can’t go wrong with whatever you choose.”

He smiled at you as you let your own gaze drift down to the case of treats before you.

“If you want to try anything, we do samples, so-” you were about to start rambling when the oven went off, both of you looking over at the sound.

“I’ll get it,” Nickie called from the small kitchen, just past the back counter, where she had gone to eat her cookie.

You turned back to the man and were met with his eyes already on you, both of your brows raising in quiet surprise. He was closer to you now than he was a moment again, and you tittered. You couldn’t fight the small smile that cracked on your face, and he returned a soft one of his own.

“Did you wanna-” you were cut off by Nickie as she looked around, growing a little frantic.

“Do you know where the oven mit is?”

“Oh, I had it..” you tried to think where it could have landed when you’d tossed it earlier, making a face as you came up empty, moving to search the area with her. “Ahhh. I don’t.. Damn,” you breathed.

You took another quick glance around before you moved to the oven. You really didn’t want them to burn.

“I’ll just grab it really fast,” you told Nickie as you pulled the oven door open.

She cringed at the thought, “I know you can’t feel it, but still, you shouldn’t do that,” she warned.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, “I’ll put them down super quick, can you just clear the counter and then we’ll move them to the rack in a minute.”

You could feel the man’s eyes on you still, and as you reached to grab the tray, you turned to speak to him, “Sorry. If you want to try anything, just let me know.”

As you were turning and talking, you blindly grabbed the tray.

It took a second for it to hit you but then all at once you felt the burn.

You quickly let go, pulling your hand back with a harsh gasp before you could get the cookies out. You grasped onto your wrist out of instinct as the pain burned through you.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you gripped your hand.

“Are you okay?” both the man and Nickie asked in unison, watching you with concern.

You flicked your eyes up to the man before looking over at Nickie.

“It.. it hurts,” you said, confused by the fact that you felt it at all, and yet knowing full well what that had to mean.

“Oh,” she breathed in response, her gaze flicking over to the man still standing at the counter, but getting closer, all the while keeping his eyes on you. She blinked, eyes rounding slightly as she looked at you once more, “I’ll get a towel or something.”

She rushed away while you groaned softly. Both at the stinging burn and the fact that your cookies were definitely getting too baked.

“Just grab whatever will work,” you called to her, “they’re gonna burn if we leave them any longer.”

“I can grab them for you,” the man offered as he approached you, coming around the counter to where you were. “I uh, I haven’t met my soulmate, so…” he seemed a little embarrassed by the confession as you stared at him dumbly.

Your mind was racing with all the things you wanted to say to him, but your tongue was refusing to move as you stood there holding your hand.

He stepped closer, and it seemed he was waiting for your permission as he nodded to the oven. You looked at him and then to the tray of cookies waiting to be taken out. You took a step back and gave him room to get to the tray. A part of you wanted to warn him that you’d thought the same thing when you’d grabbed it, only to be proven wrong, but another wanted to confirm that... that it was him.

You watched intently as he reached into the oven. It felt like he was moving in slow motion while you waited for his hand to make contact with the metal tray.

He grasped it and his forehead creased, brows furrowing as he quickly moved from the oven to drop it onto the back counter. You were holding your breath and almost deflated until you realized he was cursing under his when he was holding the tray.

“Shit,” he cursed once more, shaking out his hand, his brows still drawn together. You were staring at him with rounded eyes as you continued clutching your own burn.

You offered him your name and you stepped closer, your voice making him lift his gaze from examining the burn on his hand, up to you.

His brilliant eyes seemed to twinkle in understanding as he met your own. He breathed a smile, mirroring your movements and taking a step to you in turn.

“James. You can call me Bucky,” he simpered.

“Bucky,” you nodded as your lips curled into a soft smile of your own. “Thank you, for saving the cookies,” you offered.

“You’re welcome. Should maybe invest in some more oven mitts, though,” he joked with a mirthful smirk playing on his lips.

“I should,” you agreed with a nod and a light laugh. “Sorry about your hand.. I uhm, I have a first aid kit in the back,” you gestured with your head, “burn cream included.”

“That’d be good,” he said, “and you have nothing to be sorry about, I offered,” he continued, trailing you to the back. Nickie passed you sheepishly, though she gave you a small, knowing smile as she went to watch the front.

You swallowed hard and cleared your throat of your nerves as you worked to collect yourself, gathering your bearings with this turn of events.

“So... Bucky, huh?” you said as you grabbed the stuff you needed from the kit and watched him lean against the empty counter. You walked back over to him as he waited for you.

“Yeah. It’s uh,” he stifled a small hiss as you smeared some ointment onto his burn, gently holding his hand as you did. There was something about the soft touch that you couldn’t quite explain. The way it makes you feel, something you’ve never felt before. It wasn’t like the pain, it was more like a comfort, but still it was new. “It’s usually reserved for friends...family, but I think soulmate fits in there, too,” he smiled charmingly at you before taking the tube of cream from your hand. “Unless you like James more,” he offered, “honestly, I’d probably answer to whatever you wanted to call me,” he flirted easily.

You held your breath at the touch, and let out a soft titter at his words, a spark stemming from his hold as you let him put some ointment on your small burn.

“I think I’ll go with Bucky for now,” you smiled, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.

“So I- I’m not too sure how this goes…” he started, a self-deprecating smile sitting crooked on his lips while he let go of your hand, somewhat reluctantly, once he was done with the cream, setting the tube on the counter before looking back at you, “but I was thinking we could start with dinner.”

There was a twinkle in his eye again, hope shining through, and you were sure your gaze held much the same as you waited for him to ask. “Are you free tonight?”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fic #soulmate!au #bucky barnes x soulmate!reader

1K notes · View notes

wisteriaiswriting · 2 months ago

Text

Reader That Can Bake

Words: 1757

Includes: Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Ford, Wendy, Gideon, Pacifica and Bill

Honestly, he doesn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but being young he still craves them a bit.

Knows the basics about baking in general but only with box sets, so he’ll stay out of your way in the kitchen.

Won't ever decline anything you give him, opting to either eat them right then and there, or hide them for later. (And away, safe from Mabel.)

Normally whenever he heard the sounds of someone in the kitchen, assuming it was Mabel, he would walk the other way immediately. But now that you’re spending more time in there he’ll take the gamble of peeking in, hoping it was you baking and not Mabel ready to drag him in.

This time he was lucky, finding you washing up all your used dishes and putting away the leftover ingredients. Standing in the doorway until you noticed, waving him over. “Dipper, you’re just in time!” Hopping on the spot as you stepped out of the way, revealing a whole bunch of cooled cookies.

“I tried some different flavours this time,” Grabbing one of each to shove into his hands, which he almost dropped. “There's classic chocolate chip, white chocolate, uhh… What else?” As you rambled and thought he took a bite of each, silently ranking them favourite to least favourite, not that he’d ever tell you.

“And oh! Hazelnuts, oreos and s'mores!” “You made s’more cookies?” “Yeah, this one was a small batch, I’ll get more stuff tomorrow.”

While yes, she bakes pretty often, you’ll always be the better chef around! (And she’s not afraid to admit it, sometimes.)

This girl will never shut up about ‘How good these are!’ ‘Even Waddles loves them!’ (It’s true, you have found him scarfing down a whole pile of your baked goods.)

Occasionally (And if you let her) she’ll join you, while she enjoys baking just spending time together is enough for her.

As soon as the door opened Mabel ran off, skidding into the doorframe. Smelling something very familiar and delicious. “ARE YOU BAKING AGAIN!” Your only response was to laugh, of course she would notice, really, you’d be an idiot thinking she wouldn’t.

“Yeah, they’re in the oven right now, so I’m just cleaning up.” “I’LL HELP!” God, she was excited about your baking. “Why don’t you pile up the dirty dishes while I start the sink.” In no time you had finished the dishes, everything was clean, dried and put away.

Reaching for a hanging cabinet, but this one was just out of reach. Stretching to your limit but unable to grasp the handle, about to turn around and ask Mabel for help only to be jolted upwards. Looking down to find Mabel's toothy grin looking right back atcha.

“Whatcha grabbing? More dishes? Decorations? Is it the icing? SPRINKLES!?” Laughing once again as you grabbed, as you could guess (And Mabel.) the icing and sprinkles. Being dropped back down when you had the items. “I think they’re ready for the toppings.”

Stan doesn’t go around flaunting his love for baked goods, but he doesn’t really hide it either.

But he does openly compliment anything you make, even if it’s not his favourite, he’ll make it positive.

He may not like to spend a lot of money on anything really, but he’ll throw you a wad of cash to buy whatever you need. (As long as he gets the first taste test.)

“Where ya going toots?” Arms wrapped around your waist, his head sitting on your head. One of your hands held your car keys, well, they were Stans but he’s given you permission to take the ‘Stanmobile’ out. “Gotta buy some more ingredients.”

His body pulled away from yours, hands digging into his suit pockets before pulling out a decent wad of cash. Grabbing a few notes (Which were 100s btw) and passing them over to you, “Make me my favourite later.” “Oh I will~”

He’ll scarf down plates full of your stuff, he hasn’t eaten anything this good in years! (And no he is not exaggerating, thank you!)

Always takes something with him on every adventure he goes on. (At first he was nervous to ask, but now he’ll try to ‘bribe’ you for anything. (Both of you know he doesn’t need to.))

Part of him is curious about how well supernatural ingredients would go, he would never force you to do it, but that means he would. So at least watch over him. (But by gods, don’t let him eat anything he makes. Who knows what would happen, and you don’t want to know.)

Hearing the front door slam open you peeked out of the living room, only to find Ford stumbling by, into the kitchen with a large box. After gently shutting the door (With this amount of abuse you don’t think it’ll last much longer.) you followed him, watching him pull and lay out plenty of things on the counter.

“Hope you were going to clean up after yourself?” “AH!” Throwing something between his hands for a few seconds before calming down, “Oh! Y/N, I was, don't you worry.” “With everything you brought in here? I will.”

Quietly laughing to himself, “I don’t blame you, but how well would these bake?” “Ford, honey, I just bake, you’re the one who knows about these guys.” Gesturing to the box, “I guess you’re right.”

Very similar to Stan in the sense, she won’t go out of her way to admit her love for sweeter things but will if asked.

If you’re willing to make more she’ll take a bunch for her friends. (They all love them, even if some won’t admit it.)

Brings some to work with her, which makes her shifts actually bearable.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Lifting her hand as a quick wave before turning to leave, “Wendy!” Looking back to find Lee rushing towards her, skidding to stop just before hitting her. Throwing her a now empty container, which surprisingly enough, was still in one piece. “You gotta bring more of those snacks, they were amazing!”

“I’ll let them know.” Now that she was finally able to leave the group, she started her tract home. Pulling out her phone to send you a quick message, nothing much really. (It was a whole paragraph.) Watching you respond, pause then send the message, along with a picture. ‘Already ahead of you!’

Tapping into the image to find you back in the kitchen, flour covered every surface. There were other ingredients on the floor and everything, really. She couldn’t stop her laughter, taking a pause in her steps to catch her breath. ‘I’m on my way, don’t make a bigger mess.’

Luckily she wasn’t that far from home, and it was also a good thing that her family loved you. (They wouldn’t let you live down that image.) Letting her spend the night to help you clean and finish baking.

Absolutely will not go anywhere near the kitchen when you’re in there. (He may love you, but he also loves being clean.)

This doesn’t stop him from rushing in the second everything is cleaned up, impatiently waiting until the food is finished. (You will have to stop him from eating them hot, because he will whine about being burned.)

Will never share them with anyone else, the only exception is at the Tent of Telepathy.

Placing the hot tray onto a cooling rack before shutting the oven door, it’s been hours since you started baking. As Gideon wanted some baked goods to hand out to anyone who comes by the Tent of Telepathy, and that meant you had to bake it all.

Although he made sure to pay you for it, so it wasn’t a complete loss. But that's when you heard a door slam open and footsteps running down the hall, watching as Gideon entered the room. His first stop was the currently cooling tray of cookies, not the others that were cool and in containers.

“Gideon do–” It was too late, his hand touched the tray first. “OW!” Guiding the hand under some running water as he complained, “Why were they hot?” “I just pulled them out from the oven, those ones,” Pointing at multiple containers put to the side, “Are for you.”

Huffing as he removes his hand from the water to dry it off, grabbing the containers before leaving the room.

Honestly, she never thought about baking in general really. (There’s always been butlers or chefs, or whatever to do it for her.)

Doesn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but will eat any of your less sweet items. (It better not be messy, otherwise she’ll (lovingly) wipe it on you.)

Sometimes she’ll sit around and watch you bake, she secretly finds it interesting but it’s highly likely she won’t join you for a while.

“What did you make this time?” Even as her face showed disinterest her tone gave her away, “This one is funfetti!” Handing over the cupcake, watching as she made her way through the wrapper. Trying to avoid the icing, although she wasn’t successful, a small chunk smeared over her fingers.

Clearly unhappy with it, the fact you were waiting next to her and no tissues or anything nearby. Reaching over to ‘subtly’ wipe the icing onto your shirt. “HEY!” “These aren’t that bad.” “Don’t ignore me!” You tried to stand in front of her, except that she kept turning as well.

“Pacifica!” “You should probably check on the other ones.” Oh yeah, you probably should.

Sometimes you forget that he can actually eat as he doesn’t do it much. (That’s until you watch him eat some deer teeth. Which is so disturbing…)

There have been so many times where he comes to bother you for some food, then just leaves with it. (You have no clue what he does with them but you can only assume someone else* is eatting them. (*Ford))

He will try to bake on his own with ‘non-human’ ingredients even if you try to stop him. (They end up inedible, even to other demons. Like fuck, he’s terrible.)

It was fucking comical how Bill entered the room, floating through the window towards the tray of cookies. Staying afloat for a few extra seconds before dropping to sit on the counter, batting his eyelashes at you. “No Bill, they’re still hot.” “WHO CARES?” Grabbing a handful (Which was like 2.) before shoving it into his mouth (Eye? Honestly man, you have no idea anymore.). “Are they good at least?” “HMM, THEY'RE ALRIGHT. COULD DO WITH SOME ꀤꈤꁅꌃꀭꀸꈤꍟꊼ.” “What.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls dipper #dipper x reader #gravity falls mabel #mabel x reader #gravity falls stan pines #stan pines x reader #gravity falls ford #ford x reader #gravity falls wendy #wendy corduroy x reader #gravity falls gideon #gideon x reader #gravity falls pacifica #pacifica x reader #gravity falls bill #bill cipher x reader #wisteria♥

394 notes · View notes

citricacidprince · 2 months ago

Note

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer, plucking out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

190 notes · View notes

deafsignifcantother · 9 months ago

Text

new awlins library

♥ summary: just a cute little thing of alastor liking a deaf librarian yay ♥ relationships: human alastor x deaf reader ♥ word count: 1.1k ♥ notes: silly alastor, alastor pining, reader is shy and doesn't interact with people, reader has a crush on him too lowkey, customer favoritism ong

Alastor watched from afar, his eyes peaking out from over his book.

You were replacing the flowers in the vase on the front desk of your library. Your hands moved delicately, putting each flower in one by one. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the sentences before him, his pupils couldn't resist dilating at the sight of you.

He moved chairs so you weren't in his view anymore.

After finishing your task, you turned, and your eyes scanned the lobby to see what other decorations you needed to fix. Only for a second were you oblivious about his sudden seating change, but when your eyes landed on him, you smiled softly. The back of his head was not as well brushed as the front, and when you had greeted him that morning, you noticed how tired he looked. The time was 6am, right when you opened. He waited outside the door in the cold for the moment you'd allow him in. So then he sat, half-asleep and very distracted, trying to spend as much time in your presence before starting his daily routine. He had started doing this frequently, to the point where you began placing a black coffee by the table he'd position himself and scurrying off before he could try to return it. The first time he took a gulp of your drinks, he realized how easily you could have gotten away with poisoning him. How alluring, he thought to himself with a smile.

Obviously, you would never poison him. You loved having him around; he was a valued customer with an attractive face. He only ever picked up books from the French section, and when you realized he was running out of stories to read, you ordered a bunch of new ones. When he first noticed this, he smiled and eyed the new batch.

You don't show this particular interest to any other customer; you're pretty shy, hesitant, and withdrawn—the other employees are the ones who interact with them. There's a language barrier between you and seemingly everybody else. Besides paper and pen, you are considered a 'struggle' to communicate with, and you know there's nothing you can do to prevent that.

It's just the way things are. But Alastor actually puts in effort to interact with you, waiting outside the library every time you have a morning shift.

✣

You pick a French book from the shelf that is obviously out of place. Nobody touches the French books except him, but is this from another person? Honestly, you feel it's more likely he put it there just to mess with you. You smile, inspecting the cover and the pages inside.

A gloved hand reaches for the book, and your eyes follow the hand up to that same handsome, smiling man. His eyes twinkle with mischief, his mouth open in a silent laugh.

He tucks the book into his armpit. "Goodness me, I must have put it in the wrong section!"

In an instant, your heart starts beating faster than ever. Stuck in place with your eyes wide, Alastor stares at you with a bit of surprise. His eyes dart all around your face, and as he tries to come up with an explanation for why you're looking at him with such shock. Did he scare you? Do you... recognize him from somewhere?

But no, your heart is racing, and your mind is scrambling to process that a man here knows sign language. He has an accent, sure; he signs up high on his body, but with how unsure his sentences are, you know he needs to gain experience. He signs and is quite a loyal consumer; he's almost like the man of your dreams.

"No, no, no, it's alright." You sign with one hand before taking the book from his arm, and you place it on top of the others in your other hand. "Don't even worry about it."

"I do insist." His sign lasted more than a few movements. And then he puts his hand in front of you for you to place the book into. Truthfully, for a slight second, you considered placing your hand into his.

Your brain battles between continuing your work or indulging in this man. With an eyebrow raised, his eyes study you in a hard stare. You don't give in to his command and instead stand your ground, eyeing him back. The both of you are stuck with locked eyes. He pulls his hand back when he notices that you aren't budging.

"Now that I think about it," he starts, "I'd much appreciate it if you showed me where the correct section is!"

He's been in the French section many times.

You smile at him, a lopsided smile of adoration; there's no subtlety to whatever interest he has. So you bow your head sarcastically and turn away from him, walking past the shelves. He follows you with his hands tucked behind his back. He can't see the widening smile on your face and how you're practicing hiding it. He's rather charming, you can admit.

Not even checking behind you to see if he's following, you approach the correct section and place the book where it is meant to be. He raises his eyebrows when you glance up at him and try not to give in to his contagious, eccentrically bright smile.

"Fantastic, thank you!"

And again, the two of you stare at each other, waiting for the other to move. You want him to continue talking, to whisk you away from your job. He's waiting for you to ask his name or something else about him.

But you use both of your hands to hold the books in your hand against your chest.

Fine. He starts pondering his next move: does he end this interaction for today, or would it be better if he took a step closer to you?

He can't stop his eyes from glancing down at the joyous smile on your lips. He's making you smile; that's good. Perhaps that will be all for now.

He dips his head and presses a hand to his chest. You watch him and the way a strand of his hair falls into his face. His brown eyes land on yours. "And I will let you get back to your work."

You nod, your foot moving away from him before you pause. Your eyes go from his beautiful eyes to the floor with shyness. With a bow of your head, you begin to walk away, returning to your previous task. He straightens his spine and adjusts his sleeve before turning away.

Quite a success. What's next? He may try putting an English book in the French section. Or should he hide the books all around the library?

His everlasting smile grows at the thought. He's so excited to tell his mother about the interaction he's finally had. She's heard quite a lot about you.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #alastor #x deaf reader

458 notes · View notes

vrystalius · 2 months ago

Note

May I ask Sanemi's reaction when he is on a first date with the girl he is in love with?

Sanemi on the first date is…

… surprisingly sweet.

(Hashira reader)

— Out of all the hashira, Sanemi was ignoring you. He didn’t talk to you, even if you two were send on missions. He didn’t look at you or even acknowledge your presence. What’s up with him? Even Giyu was talking to you more than Sanemi.

— What you didn’t know is that Sanemi somewhat gets paralysed when around you. He goes from rude and gruff to quiet in mere milliseconds, trying not to be appear mean to you in any way. You’re so skilled, so intelligent and fuck, so beautiful, he just wants to make things right and just have a chance.

— Sanemi wants you to like him desperately, so he’d rather stay quiet than to risk making you not like him. Much to the surprise of all the other hashira. It’s kind of obvious how much this guy was crushing on you. Even Muichiro noticed, AND remembered.

— Gyomei was the one who encouraged Sanemi to ask you out on a date. He even gave him suggestions on what he could do and where to take you. (He is shipping you two, and he’s rooting for Sanemi. That man deserves good in his life, he thinks)

— And one day, with lots of pushing from Gyomei, Sanemi asks azayou out. He didn’t want to make a scene of it, so he waited until you two were assigned onto a mission alone.

— After successfully killing the demon, Sanemi asked you out on a small date to the village nearby. He wanted to grab something to eat and watch the sunrise together with you.

— But as he was asking you out, Sanemi was beet-red, stuttering and even shaking. You thought he was having some kind of medical emergency at first. But after he finished asking you, he stood still snd stared at you, waiting for your answer. He looked a little intimidating to be honest.

— But you accepted!

— Sanemi paid for everything, of course. He insisted. Whatever you liked, he bought for you. You two ended up buying multiple batches of mochi, ohagi, sweet teas and bowls of udon noodles with a side of dumplings, and whatever else you liked. He made sure you were not hungry anymore before moving on.

— But something that you noticed is how Sanemi starts talking more to you. He got louder, more gruff and blunt. You always thought of Sanemi as one of the more quieter hashira, but seemingly you were wrong. He talked shit about the terrible slayers he was assigned to, and about Giyu who thinks he’s soo much better than the other hashira. But also, Sanemi talked a little about how he actually had a little brother in the corps. You didn’t know that!

— You appreciated how Sanemi was opening up to you. Sanemi spoke his mind without thinking, yes, but that made him honest kind of vulnerable. Sometimes, he’d blurt out things like..

“Ya know, that mochi matches your cheeks. All squishy and pink.”

— It made him extremely flustered every time he blurted something out like that. Fuck, he’s so stupid!

— After around two hours of just eating and talking, Sanemi dared to do a move on you. He reached out for your hand and shakily grabbed your pinkie with his, holding pinkies!! His heart was racing so fast, he felt like he’s about to pass out.

— Sanemi held your hand like this the whole way he walked you through a small park. After finding a nice spot on some grass, he took his white haori off and put in on the ground so you can sit down on it.

— He tried to be smooth and scooted a little closer to you. His leaned onto his arm, wich was resting behind your back. Sanemi was taking you fully in.

— Your hair looked so pretty, even after all that fighting and staying up all night. Your hands looked so perfect and soft to him. How are your hands still so soft even after becoming a hashira? He’d love to feel them in his palm. They are probably so nice to hold. If they’re cold, Sanemi could warm them up for you.

“Hey.. uh.. can I hold your hand again? ‘Felt nice earlier.”

💠

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you liked it.

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

My masterlist for the hashira.

My masterlist for the demons.

#💠 house of vry 💠#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer hashira #sanemi x reader #fluff #sanemi x you #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi shinaguzawa #kny sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #demon slayer x y/n #kny hashira #shinazugawa x reader

198 notes · View notes

strwberri-milk · 6 months ago

Note

Hello can I request for Rafayel x Fem! reader head cannons (you may add the other guys if you think it applies). It’s sort of angsty but (imo) mainly funny.

Rafayel is making his move, trying to show that he’s genuinely interested in the reader, but to his dismay she’s not getting it. The reader is pretty dense, so at the start she genuinely doesn’t get it. Later on, as Rafayel makes it a bit more obvious, and she picks up on it, but the is in denial. It could a be mix of insecurities, and not wanting to ruin the friendship, but she’d rather assume that he’s being friendly or that he’s just like that because they’ve grown closer as friends. So now the reader is in this weird state of being both dense and in denial while Rafayel is struggling. To top it all off, I think Rafayel would especially be frustrated when he does this nice bordering romantic gesture for the reader and all he gets as a reply is “oh, thanks dude!”

I hope this is all coherent. Thank you and have a nice day!

makes perfect sense!! i love. dense object of affection failing to see affection being given to them grr

Rafayel is rich, famous, and not to mention drop dead gorgeous. He's constantly surrounded by upper society and you just somehow became lucky enough to meet him during a chance encounter and now. somehow, he considers you his closest friend. Any of those things on their own would intimidate you greatly but the fact that he has all of them together makes it hard for you to believe he'll look at you as anything other than his friend.

Rafayel however looks at you and sees the life he wishes to have more than anything. He just wants quiet afternoons with you, to ramble out whatever thoughts he has in his mind, cook and take care of you. At first he was under the impression that his feelings were subtle. He thinks he's a good actor and for the most part he is very good at concealing his feelings but when you don't respond to anything romantic that he does he first thinks he wasn't obvious enough and ups the ante. This makes him become even more obvious to everybody around the two of you except for you for whatever reason.

It's gotten bad enough that he tried to surprise you with the works. Flowers, your favourite treats, some other trinkets that made him think of you all wrapped up in a pretty basket sitting on your doorstep when you came home and yet all he got in response was a string of emojis and a very platonic thank you. He's doing his best not to rip out his hair at how dense you are, finally realising that if he doesn't tell you straight up you'll never recognise his feelings for you.

You on the other hand had noticed that he was getting more romantic with you. You'd begun observing the things he does around other people versus you, knowing that he treats you differently than others by a great margin but also refusing to attribute such behaviours with a romantic intention. After all, why would he pick you out of literally anybody in the world that he could have?

You two are spending the evening together as per usual, Rafayel insisting you come over for dinner because he's received an exceptionally fresh batch of fish tonight and you absolutely have to try some. Conversation flows easily over the sound of your cutlery against the glass and you can't help but notice the soft look in Rafayel's eyes. It's as though he's dropped all his walls just for you in this moment, cheek resting against his palm as he listens to you speak.

"You really don't know how I feel about you?"

Your eyes widen as he speaks for the first time in a while. You were going on and on about something and he was more than happy to just listen to you do so, sitting back in his chair as he crosses his arms. You decide to play more dumb, biting back the doubt in your mind that he actually means what you hope he does.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you laugh, taking another bite of the food.

"Do you really think I'd do all of this for just anybody?" he asks with a chuckle, gesturing to the table.

"I - I mean we're close friends, aren't we? That's what I thought this was," you stutter, averting his gaze.

"We've been close for a while and you told me yourself I'm your best friend. You keep people at an arm's length and you just seem so lonely I don't want to even think about anything that could ruin our friendship."

You ramble a little, Rafayel carefully considering your words as you continue give him excuse after excuse as to why he wouldn't return your feelings for him.

It doesn't take him long to get fed up, scoffing a little as he comes around the table to stand beside you. He slips his arms around your shoulders, sighing happily as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

"You're really dense, did you know that?" he says against your skin, looking up at you.

"I do so much for you and you still don't know how I feel about you," he whines a little, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"I just didn't want to get ahead of myself," you finally admit, mind spinning from how close he is to you right now.

"Well, you aren't getting ahead of yourself at all. If it takes you even more to finally believe me then I guess I can keep going."

Despite the supposed annoyance in his voice you can tell by the way he slumps against you that he's glad the two of you are finally on the same page. You can't help but press up against him closer, putting a hand on one of his and rolling your eyes playfully at his dramatics.

#love and deepspace x reader #lds x reader #l&ds x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #lads rafayel x reader

241 notes · View notes

zamiecmunson · 7 months ago

Text

scooby snacks

eddie x reader

you accidentally eat some of eddie’s very special brownies

i love edibles. i love scooby doo. i love eddie. can you tell. warnings: weed obviously, vomit but no graphic description, wrote this a long long time ago been sitting in my drafts so not too sure what else sorryyyyy 🫶🏻

‘voila!’ eddie whispered to himself, beaming down with pride at his creation. he passed on doing a taste test as he knew the guys would get pissy if they turned up & he was already stoned. plus he didn’t know exactly just how strong they were. that was the purpose after all, stronger than usual. gareth had been complaining for weeks that he was ‘building a tolerance’ and wanted to ‘trip balls’ without taking the hard stuff. eddie scoffed at that of course but came through with some pretty sweet brownies anyway. he left them out to cool on the kitchen counter before jumping in the shower.

after knocking on eddie’s door and getting no answer, you let yourself in.

‘eddie?’ you called out clocking that the weird fuzzy noise was water running.

‘in the shower baby, i’ll be out in a sec’ he called back. both a pro and con of living in a trailer: thin walls.

‘ooh!’ you raised your brows excitedly at the freshly baked batch of brownies on the side. eddie bakes? who knew! you helped yourself to a small corner slice, after taking a bite you sorta understood why he’s never baked for you before. it tasted kinda funny. but the kind of funny where you had to keep taking another bite to figure out if it actually did taste funny or not. two and a half brownies later, eddie surfaced from the bathroom.

‘hey!- oh. oh god, babe!’ his face switched from a sweet smile to deer caught in headlights as soon as he locked in on the face full of brownie.

‘ ‘m sorry they jush looked shoh good and i’m tryna figure out what the shecret ingredient is’ you mumbled through heavy chews.

‘that would be pot’ his eyes stayed at full screen as he gently pressed his hands to the brownie, lowering the rest of it from your lips.

‘oh, i’ve had these before it’s fine! i thought they tasted kinda funky, i should have guessed’ you stayed blissfully unaware and calm, wiping the crumbs off the side of your mouth while eddie’s heart was going at 100 mph. his eyes darted from the tray, to your face, to the tray, to your face then back to the tray.

‘and you’ve had three of these?’ his nervous voice matched his face.

‘two and a half, technically’ you continued to grin innocently.

‘do you, by any chance, perhaps recall gareth complaining about how the usual stuff just wasn’t touching the sides for him anymore?’ eddie did this thing where he used a lot of unnecessary words when he was nervous. you chuckled at his little habit peaking through and answered with a subtle eye roll ‘yes’.

‘well… these were made with him in mind. extra strong. like, should probably just start with a quarter of a slice strong’ he delicately placed his hands on the side of your arms. there was silence for a while. a painfully long while. you focused on the feeling of it sitting in your stomach.

‘well this isn’t good’ you responded with a straight but calm face.

‘no, no it’s not’ you both continued to stand very still. you couldn’t tell if it was kicking in already or if you were just prematurely paranoid.

‘i should probably sit down’ you broke the statuesque silence, eddie guided you to his sofa as if you were his 89 year old grandmother.

‘i’ll get you some water’ he immediately sprung up again after sitting you down.

you probably should have been more nervous than you were. not eddie’s level of panic but somewhere in the middle. weed had only ever given you a slight buzz and the giggles, surely there couldn’t be irredeemably dire consequences. eddie was running around looking for a bucket just in case you were sick and anything else you might need while you stared into space.

after a while, you could hear eddie talking to you… but every other noise in the world appeared just as loud and 10x more important.

‘oh fuck here we go’ eddie caught onto your darkening eyes and droopy muscles. he’d looked after you when you were sick, drunk and stoned. this was about to be his ultimate test.

‘you know,’ you started but got cut off by how dry your mouth was. ‘your place has always smelled good. it smells like boy, but YOU boy. good eddie boy you’ you blinked what felt like 900 times but it really really wasn’t.

‘oh yeah?’ eddie smiled slightly, his panic dying down a smidge as he was amused. he handed you a glass of water recognising the signs all too well.

‘thank you that’s brilliant’ you took the glass and chugged.

‘slow down sailor you don’t wanna make yourself puke’ eddie suppressed a grin, pushing the bucket closer to your feet just in case.

‘do you think sailors get land sick? like, if they’re so used to being at sea would that make them get sick from not wobbling about on a boat?’ your brow knotted with concern as eddie’s shoulders bobbed up and down. ‘wobbling. wobble. wobbly wobbly wobble’ you started to amuse yourself with a slight slur of the pronunciation while eddie’s giggles turned into hearty laughter.

‘that’s an amazing question that i unfortunately don’t have the answer for’ he rubbed a brewing tear of laughter from his face and stared adoringly at your hazed state.

‘since when do you not know everything? you know everything ever, actually. you always have an answer’ you responded with upmost seriousness. on a normal day, that might have come off as condescending. but weirdly, it gave eddie a huge confidence boost as he could tell you were being completely genuine.

‘i know what goes on in your brain, not sailors i’m afraid. i’ll try do better in the future’ he petted your head like a dog and ruffled your hair. god, it felt amazing. like a head massage worthy of 10 million dollars.

‘what am i thinking right now?’ you continued to slur, smiling into his touch.

‘mcdonald’s probably, though it might be a bit early for that stage’ he continued to massage your head, fantasising about how good it probably felt from your perspective. you may as well have been purring like a cat.

‘mcdonald’s…’ you whispered not even almost comprehending what that word meant. until approximately 15 seconds after it sunk in. ‘MCDONALD’S!’ you attempted to spring up but in real time just un-slumped your shoulders and opened your eyes wide. eddie did his biggest grin yet and handed you back the glass of water.

‘i’ll get the guys to pick some up on their way over. stay right here’ he kissed you on the forehead and made his way to the phone.

‘uhhh gareth i’m gonna need you to bring one of everything from mcdonald’s on your way here’ eddie didn’t even wait for gareth to say hello when he picked up the phone.

there was a sigh.

‘…how many did she eat’ gareth’s spidey senses tingled.

‘enough. too much actually, i’m in for a long-‘

‘HIIIIIII GARETHHHHH,’ you appeared out of fucking nowhere. ‘NUGGETS?’ why use a full sentence after all? just saying NUGGETS at the man would obviously do the trick.

‘coming right up scoob’ eddie could hear his smirk through the phone. ‘and what would you like shaggy?’

‘drop dead’ eddie responded through a smile. ‘…cheeseburger and fries please’

by the time the guys reached eddie’s trailer, you were in silent mode. your vision was fuzzy, skin felt like velcro, cotton mouth was in full swing, there was a constant ringing in your ear and blinking was becoming an actual task. eddie was starting to get concerned but found comfort in knowing food was on its way. unfortunately eddie opened the door to an unwelcome surprise.

‘no’ was all he said when he met eyes with dustin & mike.

‘what?’ jeff asked holding 2 bags of mcdonald’s, slurping from a straw sticking out of one.

‘they can’t be here, they’re 12’ eddie spoke about the two as if they couldn’t hear.

‘we’re 15!’ they said in unison.

‘no!’ he said again, using his body to block the doorway.

‘nuggets?’ you attempted to shout from the couch but it came out as a dry whisper. only eddie heard.

‘hand over the food’ he compromised the barricade by putting one arm out.

‘idiot!’ gareth barged through the small opening using his bag of food as a battering ram.

‘nuggets!’ you said just as quietly but with a smile this time.

eddie clambered onto the couch you were sitting on to place the brownies on the top shelf before swiftly turning to dustin & mike, gripping their shoulders tight.

‘i’m not supplying class b’s to a bunch of freshmen. its bad enough that she’s out of action,’ without looking, he pointed behind to your melting body. ‘i actually wanna get out of this town alive and not shot dead by mrs wheeler, okay?’ dustin and mike stared blankly, wide eyed but blankly.

‘you do know i’m taller than you-‘ mike broke his gaze to point to the brownies on the shelf.

‘ARE WE CLEAR?’ eddie interrupted, gripping them tighter.

‘yes eddie!’ they stuttered together.

‘good’ eddie smiled, brushing them down.

‘NUGGETS?’ you actually shouted this time behind them, still slumped on the couch. eddie did an almost balletic 180 turn to face you, face softening immediately.

‘coming right up princess’

dustin & mike got a slap on the back of their heads for giggling at the pet name.

15 nuggets, a large portion of fries and half of eddie’s burger later, everyone was starting to loosen up a bit. gareth & jeff saved their food for later so they could feel the full effect, eddie wouldn’t even consider getting stoned before you’d got through the worst of it and the freshmen were just happy to be there. they thought eddie was soooooo cool, yet here he was. babysitting you. being responsible… he thought his street cred was over. but they admired him more, deep down.

‘feeling better scoob?’ gareth was starting to get giggly and watching you devour a milkshake without breathing definitely fuelled it.

‘who..’ you remembered to breathe. ‘is scoob?’ back to slurping with no remorse.

‘i don’t know lets ask shaggy’ he threw the screwed up bag at eddie.

‘does that make you velma’ eddie threw it back in return.

‘dustin is velma, i’m daphne’ he flipped his imaginary long ginger hair. dustin and mike shared a confused yet amused glance.

‘does… does that make me… fred?….’ jeff skipped giggle phase and landed straight in deep thought mode.

‘aww they’re girlfriend boyfriend!’ dustin and mike teased, making kissy faces at them.

‘OHHHH, SCOOBY DOO!! i get it now…’ you nodded into your milkshake. everyone laughed. you didn’t understand why. ‘dustin is totally velma’

everyone was arguing about lord of the rings when eddie noticed you’d gone quiet. not just staying out of it quiet, but not even going to laugh at how silly the situation was quiet.

‘hey sweet,’ eddie said quietly so only you could hear. you tried to move your head up to look at him but it didn’t work. ‘too many scooby snacks?’ he gestured to all the empty food boxes at your feet.

‘mmh’ was all you could manage. he then noticed you’d gone green. without saying a word he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom, telling dustin only with his eyes what the situation was. dustin suggested they all go to the park, gareth & jeff too gone to realise eddie had carried you across the room. eddie placed you down in front of the toilet and held your hair in a makeshift ponytail, rubbing your back. you were there for a while. eddie was impressed it took this long, he thought you were hard as fucking nails. when it was all out your system he hooked his arm under your shoulders and propped you up on the sink. taking your special eddie’s trailer tooth brush he cleaned you up with a smile. he always did everything with a smile when it came to you, no matter how gross it may seem from the outside. he knew you’d be mortified when you properly came round but seeing you this vulnerable, being your sole caretaker, was weirdly his happy place. you did it for him all the time, he loved, ADORED returning the favour.

picking you up bridal style once again, he carried you to his bedroom. after placing you down as carefully as possible and moving you onto your side, he ran back to the couch to fetch the bucket & water.

‘ez’ you attempted to call for him for the 0.5 seconds he was out the room. that was “ed’s” in your mind.

‘i’m here, i’m here’ he crouched down to face you after placing everything down.

‘ar ou g wa?’ you weren’t even sure what you tried to say then. but eddie deciphered it.

‘i’m not going anywhere sweetheart,’ he swiped his thumb over your sweaty brow. ‘close your eyes’ he whispered before kicking off his shoes and gently getting in bed behind you, tucking you into his frame.

‘ove ou’

‘love you too’ he kissed your ear and stroked your hair until you fell asleep.

the next morning you woke up to the smell of coffee right under your nose. opening your eyes, you discovered a steaming cup on the bedside table and a distant clatter that can only be eddie getting frustrated in the kitchen. rubbing your eyes you sipped from the mug and shuffled closer to the noise.

‘morning’ you muttered, feeling very groggy.

‘good afternoon!’ eddie popped out from behind a cabinet door, hair in a bun with a wooden spoon in his mouth. ‘do you know how many times i’ve reheated that? i kept having to check you were still alive!’ he giggled to himself, removing the spoon from his mouth to give you a big kiss on the forehead.

‘how long was i out?’ you grabbed eddie’s wrist to check his watch. ‘IT’S FOUR THIRTY?’ you tapped at his watch thinking it would tell you something different if you kept attacking it.

‘gareth woke up in the park today, you should be grateful you had a bed to sleep in!’ eddie tucked your hair behind your ears, laughing. ‘shit!’ he noticed his mac & cheese burning.

‘i’m never eating mystery baked goods ever again’ you thousand yard stared over the brim of your coffee

‘serves you right, doll!’ he winced at the too hot mouthful but continued to shovel more in. ‘anyway,’ placing the saucepan down, he climbed onto the couch to retrieve the brownies. ‘it’s my turn’ he grinned.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine

343 notes · View notes