#lol yeah this came out longer than i thought it would (as usual)

[quitefair]

so, about Ballister’s origin...

alright so i’m a huge, huge fan of the original nimona graphic novel. and i’m genuinely a fan of the movie too! it did make some significant changes, but overall told the story it wanted to tell, and pretty much summed up the themes of the novel itself! it was an enjoyable ride!

but!!! there was one bit of the story that didn’t quite sit right with me. and it took me a while to realise what that thing was. (i didn’t want to make a post ranting about it without properly processing what it was that made me dislike this, so i let it ruminate)

anyway, after seeing this post, everything fell into place.

instead of ballister being a commoner rising to become a knight...

what if he was born outside the wall instead? 

(major spoilers for the graphic novel and movie below)

so in the original comic, the knights of the institution were all orphans, including ballister and ambrosius. they grew up and trained together, and were both considered among the most skilled and prominent knights of the institution at the time. however, everything changed when they were pitted against each other in a jousting match. the director gave ambrosius a weaponised lance (similar to ballister’s sword in the movie). its weight threw ambrosius off balance and caused him to lose against ballister during the joust. in a fit of jealous rage over losing, he fires the lance at ballister, causing him to lose his right arm and ruining his chances of ever becoming a knight.

all of this is implied to have happened because the director wanted ambrosius to win the joust. perhaps because of the way he looked. white skin, blonde hair, all the ideal societal characteristics of a hero. nate mentions this in a recent article as well talking about the movie.

while ballister... well. he didn’t. and now he also doesn’t have an arm. it was also implied that the director didn’t like that ambrosius and ballister were close, didn’t like that her perfect hero had a weakness, probably thought that ballister was not good enough for her poster child, idk. so yeah, she killed two birds with one stone. (except in this version no queens were harmed lmao)

the way they translated this into the movie was... well. interesting.

so now, gloreth has a bigger role in all of this. which is cool! it ties in so well with nimona being gloreth’s beast, and the entire reason that the city and the institution exists in the first place. this was actually one of my favourite changes to the comics that they made for the movie!!!

but! what i didn’t like was that our boys were no longer orphans. ambrosius is now the descendant of gloreth? which is why he’s the poster boy of the institution? and the one with the weight of familial expectation on him? 

(okay i lied this kinda slaps but it wasn’t explored as much as i’d liked. anyway wouldn’t it have been great if this was a limited series instead of a movie? lmao im going off track.)

but the weirdest part for me, and something i still felt difficult to accept, was that ballister... was a commoner. a commoner that was chosen to join the institution and to become a knight.

and it’s a controversial decision?

youre telling me that in this sci-fantasy world of super monster cops, that the only way people that can become a monster cop, is through nepotism????

and consider this: most of the commercial stuff aimed at kids, teens etc (kwispy dragon for example) sends the message that maybe, just maybe, you, the commonnest of commoner children, could also rise up and be a super monster cop hero?

there’s also the fact that in our current day and age, the story of the underdog gets the most attention and press? wouldn’t the crowds be ecstatic over a kid from nowhere, rising up among the ranks to become one of the most promising potential knights in this institution?

so yeah i dont really understand why the general population have gripes against ballister becoming a knight (it’s shown at the beginning during the whole montage that there’s some people who aren’t vibing with it) douchebag knights maybe yeah. but i don’t see how the general public wouldn’t be anything but supportive, and would turn on him so fast.

unless.... he wasn’t from the city itself.

you only really hear about the wall partly through the film. you’re shown that the city grows and that there’s a wall built around it during the intro cinematic, but nothing is mentioned until quite significantly through the film. which is odd... considering how important it is to the story. gloreth built the wall to keep the monsters out. to keep us in and to keep them out. the propaganda of there only being monsters outside the wall, and only good and respectable citizens live within the city walls.

(how does the wall keep us free? the wall keeps out the enemy. and we build the wall to keep us free, that’s why we build the wall, we build the wall to keep us free.)

which would make a ballister that came in from outside the wall... well.

1. it would make the director’s statement of ‘cracks in the wall’ make more sense. in a literal sense, ballister couldve come into the city from a literal crack in the wall. which also ties into the metaphor of gloreth’s walls/propaganda cracking. and the fact that he’s now rising up to become a knight? corruption from the inside? it makes the director’s motivations hold more weight.

(also having the director be a descendant of gloreth rather than ambrosius would make more narrative sense but that’s a whole other post)

2. now the public would have more reason to not trust this guy. it’s easier to spread propaganda about him once he ‘kills the queen’. a monster infiltrating the ranks. and then he’s allied with a monster shapeshifter nimona?

3. the parallels between ballister and nimona??? would be even more prevalent??? both literal outsiders. hated by everybody for basically no reason other than that they’re different. and the fact that ballister accepts nimona when gloreth didn’t?

4. there’s also the fact that throughout the movie, the concept of the wall protecting the people from the monsters outside is questioned - are there really even monsters outside, when we’ve never seen them for ourselves? what if you guys are lying to us, what if youre WRONG? and ballister becoming a knight might’ve been a step in the right direction towards pushing against those stereotypes, but the director wasn’t having any of it.

so yeah, those are my thoughts. the movie is still insane though i rly love it. but a lad can dream about what could’ve been, yeah?

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[pursuedbyamemoryy]

₊˚⊹ your sweet lips on my lips 🧸

about : first kiss and early mornings w mike <33. title is a hozier lyric from like real people do!!

warnings : a little longer than usual!! 1.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader ( once lol )

author’s note : I WANT TO KISS HIM SO BAD AAAAAUGHHHH. i’m so obsessed w him my brain is him and him only

your breaths were slow and steady as you slept in an uncomfortable position on mike’s couch. the tv was on low volume in the background, playing reruns of some old sitcom that your parents probably watched as kids. you were tucked under a small throw blanket that was always draped over the back of the couch, and a couple of your limbs were dangling over the edge of the cushions.

you were looking for work and mike had hired you to babysit abby. although with the hours you were at his house, it was more of just making sure abby was asleep and then more often than not, falling asleep yourself. the pay wasn’t great, but you didn’t mind. you really liked abby, and got along with her well. and well… her brother had caught your eye. he was a bit of a loser, sure, but you found him endearing. you admired how hard he worked in order to support his younger sister, it was clear she meant a lot to him. plus he was always kind to you.

while getting to know abby and becoming a more prominent person in her life, you also passingly got to know mike. abby had plenty of stories to tell, and you would often have short conversations with him before or after his shift. she had even let it slip once that mike was interested in you, and may or may not have a crush on you.

“my brother talks about you a lot, you know.” abby said oh so casually as you were helping her get ready for bed one night.

“is that so?” you quirked a brow, suddenly very intrigued at what secrets she might spill. you had harbored feelings towards the man for a while, probably as long as you’d been babysitting abby for. you always thought he would never reciprocate your feelings, and therefore decided to keep quiet about your crush.

“yeah, he says you’re pretty and you make him happy. and he’s glad you get along with me. he likes that” she said, looking up at you as you tucked her blankets around her.

you felt your cheeks grow warm, and a smile broke out on your face. “that’s good to know. he makes me happy as well, both of you do.”

“he also said he wishes he had time to get to know you more. i think he likes you. do you like him too?” abby inquired as she snuggled into the covers.

you thought carefully for a moment before responding. “i do, yeah. and i would definitely like to spend time with him if i’m given the chance. but that’s enough for tonight, it’s already late. sleep well, abby. i’ll be in the other room if you need me.” you press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before standing up and leaving her bedroom for the night.

that very brief conversation with abby stayed on your mind for the following days. when mike came home early the next morning you were more flustered than ever when you spoke to him. since then you had been trying to find a way to make your feelings a little more known, hoping one of you would have the courage to finally confess.

keys jingled and the front doorknob rattled as mike let himself into the house. it was quiet, as it was just past 6am. the only sounds were the faint conversations of the show on the television, and the sound of his own footsteps padding across the floor. he set down his keys and kicked his shoes off before making his way into the living room where he saw you fast asleep. he quietly picked the remote off of the coffee table and turned the tv off.

although he wasn’t quiet enough, and you started to stir. “abby?” you asked tiredly. you blinked up at mike, slowly starting to sit up as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

“nope, it’s me. sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” he replied quietly as he set the remote back on the table. “did everything go alright with abby?”

you sat quietly for a moment, trying to find your thoughts in your sleep hazed brain. “yeah, she ate a good amount of her dinner and then we hung out and watched tv for a while before she went to bed. how was work?” you had pushed away the blanket and now sat upright, looking up at mike. he looked tired, which was to be expected. despite his exhausted features he looked handsome, although this wasn’t a new discovery.

his voice shook you out of your thoughts. “it was boring, but it pays.” he shrugs. “want some coffee?” he leaned his head in the direction of the kitchen.

“coffee sounds good” you smile. he starts to walk toward the kitchen and you follow behind him. damn, his butt looks good in those pants.

“i always feel bad falling asleep, i feel like i should be the one making coffee and breakfast for you.” you noted lightheartedly. you were trying not to gawk at him, which had been proven increasingly difficult after abby told you that he was in fact interested in you.

“i appreciate it, but it’s no big deal, really. i understand it can be a little boring being here all night. i trust you with abby, so if you need to sleep, sleep.” mike replied tiredly. you made a mental note to try and at least make coffee for him before he came home in the future.

once in the kitchen, he started gathering everything he needed to make just enough coffee for the both of you. you leaned against the counter, your back facing the wall. the two of you stood in comfortable, sleepy silence as the coffee brewed.

once the coffee maker had stopped gurgling, signaling the coffee was done, he grabbed two mugs out of the cabinet and poured you each a cup. you added the ingredients to make it just the way you liked it before taking a sip, nearly burning your tongue.

you could feel his eyes on you. not in a creepy way, but in admiration. he took a sip of his own coffee, his eyes lingering on your frame. you let your gaze wander back to him, meeting his own. you gave him a smile as you took another sip of your coffee.

"i uh.. would you like to go out with me one day? just us?" he stammered. he averted his gaze to his coffee, swishing the dark liquid inside to distract himself.

you smiled, giggling to yourself. it seems like abby was right about mike's feelings for you, not that you doubted her. you took a moment to collect yourself before responding. "yeah. yeah, i'd love to."

"he looked back up at you with a goofy smile on his face. "okay, cool. does tomorrow night work?"

you nodded, "yeah, that's perfect." you knew abby wouldn't lie to you about how mike felt, but it still made you giddy when he actually showed that he had feelings for you. you glanced over at the little digital clock on the stove. 7:08am. you took one last sip of your coffee, placing it down on the counter. "i should probably go, i have an appointment that i need to get to. you have work tonight, right?"

he looked disappointed, but nodded. "yeah. i'll see you later then?"

you nodded in response, "yeah, of course." you stepped closer to him, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

his cheeks immediately flushed and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. he’s had other partners and had been in relationships before, but it had been so long since he was as infatuated with someone as he was with you. you were still close to him, and he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. he paused to make sure you were okay with it, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to.

but you didn’t. you leaned in further and pressed your lips to his briefly, somewhat hesitantly. he grabbed your hip, holding you firmly but gently. he kissed you again, this time with more confidence. this kiss was longer, more passionate, and it only increased the feeling of butterflies flying around in your stomach.

“took you guys long enough. are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?” a small voice comes from the other side of the room. you and mike quickly pulled away from the kiss, much more flustered now that you had been caught by mike’s youthful sister. neither of you had heard her approach, and were startled at her sudden presence.

after recovering from the slight embarrassment, you looked at mike questioningly to see if, and how he would answer abby’s question.

“i sure hope so” he smiles, his attention focused back on you. “it’s up to them though.”

“i’d like that” you smiled back at him.

[qqueenofhades]

Not that anything's a for sure bet but my read on the general situation re: Harris-Walz is that there's going to be a lot less headwind to fight for Harris specifically as opposed to Clinton because the amazing right wing media hasn't had twenty years for poison to seep into the layperson's thoughts about Clinton's "worthiness"

Well, that and the fact that the MAGA crowd are just really, really bad strategic planners (especially since a solid 75% of their strategy is "lol we'll just cheat and win it that way, we don't need anything else.") They howled for 3.5 years about how Biden was too old to serve and should step down, and then when he did, they had zero plan how to run against Kamala and Trump is now practically begging Biden to magically get back into the race and save him. They ran an anti-Shapiro influence campaign by encouraging the antisemitic online left and planning to exploit the issue among Democrats divided on Israel/Gaza, then furiously melted down when Walz was picked and had no plan to deal with him either. Fascism is a helluva drug, kiddos. Don't try it at home.

The reason Harris has been able to rocket so high is simple, which is that she's channeling Obama 08 energy in more ways than one. Obama also came onto the national political scene four years before (with his speech at the 2004 DNC) and four years later, he was the party's nominee. It didn't even matter that he was a skinny brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama, because people were so tired of the chaos and war and incompetence of Bush Jr that they latched onto a simple message of hope and change and the historical nature of his candidacy felt like an optimistic risk worth taking. Why couldn't it be time for the first African American president? Yes, of course, there was incredible vitriol and we are still dealing with that backlash in some ways now, but still.

As I have said before, Trump is technically not the incumbent, but the last 8 years have been dominated by his hatred, chaos, division, rage, and treason in a way even Bush could never quite manage, and when people get to that point, there's a lot of coiled-up energy that has at last come bursting out. We needed Biden's old-moderate-white-man cred to defeat Trump as the sitting president in 2020, when most of his worst scandals hadn't even happened yet, but this is not 2020 (or 2016) and the dynamic is different. We are now on offense and playing to win, people have readily and eagerly embraced the absolute god tier karma that would come from a black female prosecutor finally ending the Orange Menace's reign of terror once and for all, and the Republicans are spitting smoke and spinning gears running frantically through their usual tired old stupid cliche attacks. GAY TRANS EVIL BIRTHERISM SWIFTBOAT FOREIGN FAR LEFT COMMIE LIBERAL HEATHEN!! they scream desperately, trying to find something that sticks. Except this time, no matter how hard the corporate media tries to help them out, nobody is listening. Nobody is buying it. We know exactly what BS they're trying and we're just shrugging and going "Yeah, no. Weird."

It absolutely helps that Kamala is not dragging the ball and chain of 20 years of Republican smear attacks, yes. But there are a lot of reasons why the GOP is imploding before our eyes and it's probably now more statistically likely that there is a blue tsunami than it is that Trump wins. I still cannot, CANNOT, believe it has been barely three fucking weeks. If this is a dream don't want to wake up, etc. Let me goddamn stay in this timeline just a little longer. And if we do the work, we can in fact make it that way, and Yeah. Yeah.

[runa-falls]

Omfg I just had an amazing idea (I hope this hasn’t been done before or I’ll look stupid LMAO)

In ATSV, there’s that scene where Miguel Molly rocks miles into that train or whatever, and says that he’s been left to clean up his mess yeah? And no one ever acknowledges how much he’s really doing to keep everything together :((

Reader who appreciates everything that Miguel does for the multiverse in more ways than one. Fluff/smut porn with a little bit of plot for the distinguished gentlemen/ladies/people (I also just like longer fics lol)

Plz I’ll literally drop to my knees and beg you’re my savior 🙏🙏🙏

GN reader plzz ❤️❤️ily

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader

cw: explicit (18+), angst, nipple play, comfort head, face fucking, rough handling, choking, cum eating.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: thanks for sending this in nonnie! i love angst/comfort :)) wasn't sure if you were ok with a reader who has female genitalia so i just wrote non-penetrative stuff...

thank you @campingwiththecharmings for reading this over <3 LOVE YOU BAE

masterlist

--

sometimes miguel comes home in silence.

he won't announce himself as he enters the front door or walk into every room to find and greet you with a tired smile and kiss like he usually does.

you won't even realize he's home until large arms suddenly wrap around you to pull you close late at night. Until he's guiding you into bed, holding your body so tight that you can't get away. you can't leave him.

sometimes he doesn't come back at all.

sometimes you have to sleep alone, huddling your face into his pillow, reminding yourself how capable he is -- that he's going to be okay. that he'll be back soon.

miguel is sweet. too sweet for his own good.

he works hard to make his life with you as normal as possible. he does it for you, but also for that part of him that craves domesticity.

the part that remembers having a family, a house in the suburbs, and a regular routine of waking up, eating, working, and sleeping.

he tries to keep everything bad -- all his stress, frustrations, anger, and fears -- at work. he never wants to bring it home to you. never wants you to have to hold the weight of his struggles on your shoulders.

so when he starts to lose his grip, he hides away.

and when he can't hold on any longer, he doesn't come home at all.

---

today, miguel came back quiet but not silent.

he opened the front door swiftly, kicking it shut behind him before making a beeline to the kitchen and grabbing a drink.

even if you weren't already downstairs, you'd be able to hear him.

he immediately hid away to the back porch, still in his suit, sitting on a bench that he put together when you first bought the house. his glove-covered hands clutch a cool beer that's already sweating from the balmy summer air.

you watch from the living room, perched on the couch, as he sits there in silence, barely moving a muscle.

he completely missed you when he walked in, too distracted by the mound of thoughts rushing through his mind.

this must be where he goes when he doesn't want to worry you. when he wants to be home but not present.

his dull crimson eyes drift shut as he lets the stress of the day roll off of him in waves, releasing the tension from his shoulders and the pinch at the middle of his eyebrows.

he tilts his head back until it bumps against the back wall of the house, letting out a sigh as he's supported from falling back.

slowly shutting your laptop and setting it to the side, you choose to just stare out the window and observe him as he watches the world move around him.

ever since you've known him, the fate of the multiverse has weighed on his shoulders and no matter how much he tries, how much he's done, it just keeps going. it's a never-ending cycle of protecting, saving, and destroying.

it's not healthy, but where would you be without him? where would anyone be?

there's an unspoken rule in your relationship to never talk about these occasional scenes of silence because you both know that you'd risk breaking the illusion -- the faux life where he can hang up his suit at the front door and come home to dinner with his partner.

like how it was before. how it could've been.

your shared temporary happiness, or sporadic bouts of happiness, was never meant to last long in the first place.

so why ruin something that can only be yours for a few more moments?

by the time he gets up from the old bench, the sun is setting, and his beer is long drained, bottle dangling prettily from his long fingers.

you don't even realize the hours of silence you've shared with him through the glass window until you hear the back door squeak open.

you look up and meet his eyes as he stands there frozen. he wasn't expecting you to be there. to see what you saw.

"...have you been there the whole time?" the door clicks shut behind him, but he stays put. you nod sheepishly, feeling like you've been caught doing something illegal. "i-i'm sorry i didn't say hi...i was distracted."

"no, it's ok. i was just answering emails--" you look down at your laptop, the one you shut off a few hours ago, "--until i decided to rest my eyes."

you aren't a very good liar, but it doesn't seem to matter. miguel hums absently, lost in his thoughts, placing his empty beer bottle on a table nearby. his movements are slower than usual when he shuffles closer to the couch.

"are you okay, honey?" you put your computer on the coffee table and turn toward him.

his eyes shut and he takes a deep breath, one hand holding onto the back of the couch for support. that answers the question for you.

you should've known not to ask that question. it never leads anywhere good. he'll either lie with a flat 'fine' or --

"I'm...tired." he finally says, a mere whisper like he doesn't want to admit it. you tilt your head, finally taking in his slouched shoulders and exhausted eyes.

of course, he's tired. he should be tired.

"come 'ere," you stretch out your arms, gesturing him to sit next to you. he walks over, plopping himself right against you, nearly sitting on you, but you don't mind. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder, feeling him melt at your comforting touch.

it feels so good to have him in your arms again, to feel his unnatural warmth permeate through his super-suit. though you wake up in each other's arms every morning, you still crave his touch and his tendency to lean his whole weight against you like a lazy housecat.

"you've been working so hard, miguel..." he nods silently against your shoulder, nuzzling his head further into your space.

"someone has to..." he mutters, body already less tense than it was a few seconds ago.

"you don't have to, but you do anyway. you put your life on the line, day in, day out, protecting those who don't even know the dangers you're keeping them from."

he snorts, "you're making me sound a lot more heroic than i actually am. i'm just doing what needs to be done."

"you are heroic! you're a hero -- my hero."

his head lifts from your shoulder, "...really?"

his burgundy eyes sparkle when they meet yours, the first glimmer of energy that you've seen in him today. you smile, but you can't decide if it's a happy smile or not. on one hand you're sad. sad that he can't see how amazing he is, or how much he's done for the universe -- the multiverse.

but you're also happy that you get these moments with him. that you are at the receiving end of those sparkling eyes and hopeful looks. that he cares about your opinion that much.

"yes, really."

"you're not tired of me yet? of dating the busiest man in nueva york?"

"never." you lean into him, gently pressing your lips against his. you're suddenly giddy when he kisses back, lips moving expertly against yours. then he's smiling against you.

before you could pull back, he tugged you closer by the collar of your shirt, deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. you giggle lightly when his hand slowly drifts down, fingers running over your chest and squeezing at your waist.

"thought you were tired?" you tease when you pull away. miguel is barely listening, too focused on pulling your shirt off. "miguel!"

"not right now, cariño. wanna see you." the cool air of the living room quickly wraps around you, your nipples pebbling right under his stare.

his eyes darken to a deep cherry hue as he teases you with a flick of his thumb. you whimper at how sensitive you feel, especially with how the texture of his gloves contrast with the softness of your skin, the delicate point of your bud.

"you're always so responsive for me..." he coos, "so nice, jus' letting me touch you like this." you gasp when he pinches you, goosebumps raising over the expanse of your body. his touch drifts down to the top of your pants, tan hands fiddling with the waistband teasingly.

you take a hold of his wrist before he could pull them down and he immediately stops, looking up at your face, wondering if he overstepped. you bite your lip as you build the courage to say what you want.

"wait, i-i wanna do something for you."

"what d'you mean?" miguel's hand comes up to cup your cheek, "you always do something for me, just by being by my side."

you want to fawn over his words, melt against his body while he does whatever he wants to you, but you quickly remind yourself that sometimes he needs to let go. that you should do the work and let him relax.

"please, miguel, just... let me." your hands move over the large bulge that presses against his flexible suit. you hear him sigh as you squeeze him gently. his hips buck into your hold, eager for your touch. "c-can you take it off please?"

"you mean you weren't just going to mouth over my suit until i cum?"

an intense heat flushes throughout your face at the idea. how filthy and needy that would be! you could imagine how his cock would throb under the material, how his cum would soak over the front of his crotch...

"i-i could--"

"-- i'm kidding, sweetheart." he chuckles, clicking a few buttons on his watch. his suit disappears without a warning and his muscled torso flexes under you from the sudden coolness of the room. he's wearing tight briefs underneath his suit, contouring his desperate hardness underneath.

you experimentally smooth a hand over him, watching avidly as the veins in his forearm pulse as he attempts holds himself back. you carefully tug his underwear down to reveal the wet mess that his dripping cock has made for you.

you run a finger over his sensitive tip and spread the precum that spills every time he takes a breath. he shivers at the feeling, eyes glowering as he watches you tease him. "are you just gonna stare or actually do something about it?" he growls, tired of the delicate touches and shy looks.

you don't answer him, instead, you dip down, licking softly over his shaft before shallowly suckling his tip into your mouth. he groans deeply, fingers instinctively burrowing into your hair without pushing you down.

"you're so sweet to me, baby. sucking my cock into your throat just to make me feel better..." you close your eyes as you start to take him deeper, swallowing around him until you feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. "you like this don't you?"

his grip on your head tightens when you moan around him, saliva dripping messily over his lap.

"fuck!" his hips buck and it shoves him further into your throat. not expecting the harsh intrusion, you choke around him, eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. "s-sorry, you're just so hot when you drool over me."

your legs tighten as his rough voice whispers soft apologies. he sounds so needy and desperate like he's barely holding himself back from fucking your throat.

you quickly recover with a hum, hand resting against his firm torso for support as you lift yourself off of him. he lightly holds onto your arm, staring lustfully at your flushed face and slick lips as you breathe heavily on top of him.

you're suddenly shy as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, despite sitting over him topless and cock-drunk.

"you know you can fuck my face if you want..." you offer, unable to meet his eyes. he doesn't let you look away though. his rough hand holds you by the jaw, making sure you can't escape the simmering heat in his eyes.

"don't say that baby...'cause i'll actually do it." his hips start to move as you stroke him again, fucking your fist harshly until your hand starts to tingle from the wet friction.

"...i want you to."

"really?"

"you work so hard, mig. you deserve some appreciation..."

"please, cariño..." he begs, breathlessly.

you lean over him and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head as your tongue slicks against the underside of his shaft. he doesn't hesitate when he shoves your head down, forcing you to swallow all of him down.

he feels you gag a few times before he lets go. he almost didn't though. the feeling of your whine was euphoric as it vibrated up from your throat and against your lips. you're a mess on top of him, precum and drool coating your mouth, chin, and hands.

miguel lovingly brushes some stray hairs that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear as you continue to suck on him. he starts with soft thrusts into your mouth, dragging his cock slowly over the silk touch of your tongue. you open wide, round eyes staring politely up at him as he fucks your mouth from below.

he loves having control over you -- actually, he loves it when you give him control because it means you trust him, even after seeing all sides of him, good and bad, you're still with him.

he groans at how cute you look, his huge cock stuffing your pretty mouth. his hands move to hold both sides of your head, guiding you onto him until you can fully engulf him between your lips.

he can't hold back anymore; he needs to feel your throat tighten around him as you struggle to swallow him down your throat. he watches himself disappear down your throat, how eagerly you drink him in without a complaint.

his hips snap against your mouth, filling you over and over until your jaw aches. you whimper, heavy eyes watching as he falls apart for your mouth.

"i-i'm getting close--" he warns shakily, unable to stop his frantic movements when you look at him like that. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into your mouth. he finishes deep inside of you, cock prodding the back of your throat.

you drink him in, tasting his distinct salty sweetness, listening to his delicious groans as he comes down from his high. he jerks when your soft touches start to push him towards overstimulation, moans turning desperate.

"baby, enough, please."

you release him from your mouth, lips tingly and plump.

"feel better?" you sound raspy, even with how quietly you're speaking.

"i feel amazing, mi vida." he pulls you on top of him and holds you close (though it's insanely hot with your skin pressed against his like this). you cuddle him back, smiling as he pecks your tacky neck and shoulder lazily.

[sutashii]

Hoshina Soshiro x Writer!Officer!Reader

setting: you are an officer of Third Division, and one of your hobbies is to write different fictional stories. as soon as Soshiro finds out about your hobby, he, as a true fan of literature, will never leave you alone anymore.

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Writer!Officer!Reader

warnings: lots of lolz because Soshiro is a tease, but nothing explicit here

notes: yes, Soshiro have read even NC-17 works of yours hehe. it was really funny to write lol. btw this one is about 3,8k words, it’s longer than my usual drabble-like works. but i still hope you will enjoy!

tag section: @moon-cakiie Thank you again for your support!

On the Edge of a Sword

You worked hard to finally become who you are today.

Long days and even nights of training sessions, reading books about kaiju up and down, each time more and more dangerous battles on the battlefield made you the one who can lead others. The one who can assess the situation with a second glance, react quickly, or hide and wait for the right moment when you can deliver the most devastating and accurate blow.

But, naturally, you, like all officers, had your favorite hobbies. After all, you were a simple person who loved, for example, to eat well or sleep longer when the situation allowed it. On weekends, you went out into the city to look at the shop windows and walk around the shopping centers, absorbing the noise of the crowded streets and seeing with your own eyes what you were trying so hard for.

And you also really loved to write.

There were times when inspiration would hit you, and for several days in a row you would scribble something in the notes on your phone in any free minute - during meals, in between workouts, before and after showers. These were short notes about ideas that came to your mind and that you absolutely could not lose. They were about the development of the plot as a whole, about some small details that were definitely worth mentioning, about dialogues between the main characters.

But there were also days when you didn't want to dive into it at all because of the accumulated fatigue, so you put off writing the next chapter until next time. The fatigue had been especially strong lately, considering how much more dangerous kaiju attacks had become. However, you still found time for what really made you happy.

One such day, during your lunch break, you hurried to finish your lunch as quickly as possible and go out for some fresh air. You thought much better outside, even though you were surrounded by the polluted air of a noisy city. At Defense Forces’ Base, by the way, the air seemed cleaner, but you tried not to fill your head with such details, because otherwise you risked losing the thread of the story. You fished your phone out of your uniform pocket, opened your notes, and, exhaling, began typing.

Today, it took you only a couple of minutes to get into the right mood. Your fingers flew across the touchscreen keyboard, and your breathing seemed to have almost stopped, concentrating a small influx of fresh air at the very top of your lungs. You already knew how you wanted to continue your new story. All that was left was to write a few chapters in which the main heroine's dilemma would come closer to its resolution, and in which her love story would reach its climax.

"I wonder who you're texting with that excited expression," a painfully familiar voice sounded in your ear, making you flinch and your heart sink into your heels. You instinctively pressed your phone to your chest, hiding the screen, and carefully looked up.

In front of you stood your vice-captain himself.

"N-Nobody," and it wasn't a lie, you noted with your inner voice. You really weren't texting anyone at this moment, so you couldn't be caught doing anything. And anyway, is it even forbidden to write love messages during a break? Why vice-captain was looking at you with such a sly squint?!

"Yeah? And it seems to me that I had never seen anyone other than you who typed so fast," Soshiro said with feigned thoughtfulness, clearly testing your strength. You felt that he had been watching you for a long time and noting your actions, and today was clearly no exception. You attributed his behavior to his vice-captain duties, to the need to keep an eye on each of his subordinates so as not to miss any danger. However, you did not expect that he would appear in front of you so clearly and ask you a question directly.

With Soshiro… let’s just say it was a bit complicated. You knew you couldn’t be too open with him. It would sound stupid from the outside – everyone knew that the vice-captain was always reliable, that he would always listen and support, even if he didn’t forget to have a good laugh. However, you knew very well that if you dug a little deeper than his carefree nature, you could find a calculating mind that noticed every detail about everyone. You were wildly impressed by his ability to pick up even the smallest facts and put them together to give a crushing verdict. Naturally, you were both fascinated and scared by this.

Because there was no way Soshiro should have known that you were in love with him.

"You misunderstood," you smiled awkwardly, turning your phone back on. The screen showed an unfinished sentence, and you sighed tiredly. "I'm not texting anyone. I'm finishing up the chapter."

"The chapter?" Soshiro asked, opening his eyes slightly. Your heart skipped a beat, because every time you saw the vice-captain's gaze, your own lingered longer than it should have.

"Yes," you nodded, smiling nervously. He wouldn't scold you for doing something like that during lunchtime, would he? "I promised my readers to post the chapter last week, but, as you know, the kaiju attacks make their own adjustments to our plans."

Silence fell between you. You anxiously chewed your lip, a bad habit that should’ve been gotten rid of a long time ago. Soshiro froze, his gaze piercing you with a very serious expression. Did you do something wrong? Was it really written in some regulation that you can’t do this, especially during duty? Did it even apply to breaks?

"Vice-captain, I assure you, I do not write anything that could somehow reveal our officers’ duties," you hastened to justify yourself, so that Soshiro would not think in any way that you were giving away Defense Forces' secrets. It would never have occurred to you to do so, because you knew perfectly well how important and dangerous your work was, and any ill-wisher would certainly learn something from your works. You could not and would not take such a risk.

"I know that you would not do such a thing," he finally said, and you felt your heart begin to beat at a normal speed again. "However, I will certainly take it personally that I am still not on your reader lists."

You froze, unsure of what to say. Did you hear wrong, or did Soshiro really just complain that you didn't share the link to your author page?

"Sorry, vice-captain, but I don't think you'd like that," you said, and Soshiro's grin only widened.

"Oh, I get it. Fanfiction and all that stuff, eh?" Soshiro sat down on the bench next to you, his smile oozing with cunning and something else you didn't quite catch.

"Well... not only that," you cleared your throat, the awkwardness of the whole situation causing a slight blush to play on your cheeks. "My page used to only have fanfiction on it, but I've been writing more original stories now."

"Interesting," Soshiro nodded and handed you his phone, to which you could only raise your eyebrows in surprise. "I'd like to read it in my spare time. If you don't mind, of course."

"S-Sure," you nodded, trying not to squeal in joy, shame, and excitement. With slightly shaking hands, you took Soshiro's phone and began to type in the address of your author's page. "Here, you don't have to register, even unregistered users can read and comment here," you expertly instructed your vice-captain on how this Internet platform works, to which Soshiro nodded in satisfaction.

For the next few days, your interaction with Soshiro was reduced to almost nothing, except for training and sparring sessions. You were tirelessly practicing your fighting skills, training almost to the point of exhaustion, so you could not find even a second to ask Soshiro his opinion. And, frankly, you were too embarrassed to do so, so you decided to simply ignore the situation, and Soshiro only helped you in this, literally evaporating into thin air after each training session.

After a few days of hard work, you finally found enough strength to look at the updated statistics for your works. The platform allowed you to track the daily growth of views, likes, and comments on your works, and it was very convenient because you did not have to manually scroll the page and keep track of it. When you opened the statistics this time, you were surprised to find that even on your very old works, the number of views began to increase proportionally to the number of chapters, and you turned off the screen of your phone in a panic and buried your face in the pillow. You should have expected this, having given your vice-captain your page, but you still felt awkward. Did Soshiro really even read this?!

It was more than strange for you to feel two such different worlds touching each other, especially in such a strange manner. You even partly regretted giving Soshiro your account with a bunch of similar works, because after reading them all, Soshiro would definitely not let you live a quiet life. You secretly hoped that Soshiro would quickly get bored of reading second-rate fanfiction on unfamiliar fandoms, but on the other hand, you were offended that he would not even get to your latest, more serious works, and the difference between them and fanfiction was colossal both in time and in the quality. And why did Soshiro start reading from the very beginning, and not from the latest works?! After all, if he understands that there is nothing to catch here and gives up reading, only your worst works will remain in his memory!

You let out a heavy but quiet breath, trying not to wake the officers in the neighboring bunks. Shame and disgrace, that's what had been playing in your blood for the last few days. There was something thrilling in the fact that your love had paid so much attention to your work. You smiled to yourself and mentally crossed your fingers in the hope that Soshiro would finally tell you his opinion.

The days continued to slip through your fingers, and the interactions between you and Soshiro continued to be limited to just a few words during training. You began to worry even more. Was it really that awkward to talk to you after what Soshiro had read? You continued to practice your close combat moves with particular thoughtfulness. Punch, dodge, counter, dodge again. Suddenly, it hit you, and you almost squealed right in the middle of training.

Did he even get around of reading NC-17 rated works?!

You were ready to bang your head on the floor from indignation and shame. You hadn't thought about this at all when you gave Soshiro the link to your page. The awkward feeling you had felt earlier? It was nothing compared to what you felt now, knowing that Soshiro had probably already gotten to the particularly intimate works that you had started writing a little later. You tried your best to continue training as if nothing had happened, but these thoughts just wouldn't leave your head.

"Don't get distracted, or you'll be eaten alive on the battlefield," Soshiro reminded, coming closer. Even he noticed that you weren’t feeling well, and you hurried to tidy yourself up as much as possible - at least to remove the "I'm dead" expression from your face.

"Yes sir," you said crisply and continued practicing your close stance and punches. Soshiro's gaze lingered on you a little longer than it should have, and you were about to ask if everything was okay, when suddenly...

"A true samurai never backs down from the obstacles that Lady Life throws at him," Soshiro said with feigned loftiness. His lips were still adorned with the same mischievous smirk that he usually bestowed on his subordinates when he was plotting something or noticed something incriminating. At first you didn't pay much attention, but a few seconds later, when Soshiro had already gone off to give help to other officers, you felt as if you had been doused from head to toe with ice water.

It was a quote from your fanfic.

You really wanted to bury yourself in the ground and never show yourself from under it again.

Which is essentially what you did. Now you were deliberately avoiding Soshiro, unobtrusively, but still trying to cross paths with him less. The feeling of shame was growing in you exponentially, and you didn't know what to do.

For the first time in your writing life, you were afraid to open the statistics. However, once every couple of days you still did it, looking at the phone screen and squinting, afraid to see the obvious. You sighed heavily. Soshiro really did go through the NC-17 fanfics and also liked them, like the previous ones. At least he didn’t write comments, you thought. On the other hand, you really wanted to hear his opinion about your writing skills, because it was obvious that the newer the works were, the better their quality changed. At least, you wanted to believe it.

Weeks passed. You carried out your duties as an officer of the Defense Forces responsibly, training hard and bravely defending the city from the attacks of the kaiju. The battles were not easy, and despite the support of Hibino Kafka as Kaiju No. 8, it became more and more difficult to deal with the threats. However, at the end of the day, you were happy that you were all a team that stood up for each other.

You were standing on the balcony of the main building. The setting sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon, and the air was starting to get cooler. By your calculations, Soshiro should have gotten around to your original works by now, and you were especially curious about his opinion, but you didn’t dare to ask him directly. Since then, you hadn’t had a chance to talk. Your conversations had mostly been about work, barely touching on aspects of your personal lives, and not a word had been said by him about your works. This could only mean two things: either Soshiro was simply choosing a more convenient moment to share his positive impressions (and the thought of this warmed your heart), or things were so bad that it was easier for him to pretend he hadn’t read anything (and this thought had already hurt you and your writer’s ego). Or maybe Soshiro was just trying to make sure that you really didn’t include work details in your works. This option seemed the most reasonable.

But most of all, of course, you were worried about your latest work, which was in progress. As already said, you would never take details of your officer entourage to write a work, and for the sake of everyone's safety, you were going to stick to this rule in the future. However, the only detail that could be latched on was the love interest of the main heroine. A short, dark-haired man with an athletic build, a traditional swordsman who devotes all his free time to training, cheerful, but at the same time serious in the right places, did not leave your regular readers indifferent either. Hino Shigekazu became the absolute star of your work, and you understood why. His entire image completely repeated the image of your vice-captain, and from the very beginning you understood what thin ice you were walking on, but you could not find the strength in yourself to delete or stop working on this work. In many ways, the main heroine reflected your values ​​and principles, and her love interest in Shigekazu only added color to the existing plot. The two of them really were a great couple, and that was the only thing stopping you from deleting this work.

It was too filled with your hope that something similar would happen in your life someday.

"It's almost time for lights out," a familiar voice said from behind you, and you flinched. A smile appeared on your face involuntarily, and you turned around. Hoshina Soshiro was standing right behind you. His body didn't show any tension even after a long day of training, and his neat but strong hands, usually so deft with swords, were now hidden in the pockets of his uniform.

"Yes," you nodded and forcibly returned your gaze to the sunset creeping behind the night clouds. "I'll be leaving soon."

"Don't worry, I'm not a mother to keep track of who goes to bed at what time," Soshiro came closer and leaned his hands on the balcony railing, also turning his gaze to the setting sun. "However, if you stay up late, as your vice-captain, I will be obliged to intervene."

You smiled and exhaled in relief. You missed your casual conversations so much, missed Soshiro's attention, which at such moments was directed exclusively at you. His presence always caused an indescribable storm of emotions in you, even if you were just silent next to each other. You felt his care, albeit sometimes hidden under a layer of strict remarks and bitter jokes. Despite the difference in your positions, you always felt equal to him when it came to the two of you.

"I never thought that fanfiction is such an interesting thing," Soshiro chuckled thoughtfully, and you almost lost your balance. Is he going to discuss all of this right now?!

"I'm glad that, uh, it gave you some pleasure," you muttered awkwardly.

"At first, of course, I thought it was a hopeless undertaking," ouch, you thought. Soshiro really knows how to press on a sore spot. "But as I read, I couldn't help but be amazed about how quickly your writing skills have grown. I can confidently say that your latest works can easily compete with the current authors on the market."

Gods, it was so nice to hear those words after so many weeks of uncertainty.

"Vice-captain, you're too kind to me," you tried to return your face to normal state, but you couldn't wipe the stupid, satisfied smile off it. Praise from Soshiro meant especially much to you.

"Oh, no, I have a lot of complaints too," Soshiro said playfully, crossing his arms. "Let’s take your latest work, On the Edge of a Sword, for example. Why is Hino Shigekazu such a slowpoke? I understand that it's the author's intention, but didn’t you think that he may have noticed his feelings for the main heroine a lot earlier, not after 16 long chapters?" you couldn't believe your ears. Was he criticizing his own image? "He's not stupid, after all. You pointed out his attentiveness to his surroundings, so why do you think he wouldn’t notice such an important detail from the start, especially with a woman he clearly cares about?” Soshiro shook his head, and something inside you clicked. This conversation was hardly a normal critique. “When writing a love story, pay more attention to the chemistry that occurs between the characters. Many of their interactions may not seem like what they seem at first glance.”

“Vice-captain,” you began cautiously. You weren’t stupid either, but you still really wanted to check your guess. “Are we really talking about my work now?”

Soshiro smiled slyly. “Like a kitsune, huh,” you thought, and an idea for your next work instantly popped into your head. However, for now, you quickly pushed those thoughts aside.

“What if not?” Soshiro raised an eyebrow and looked thoughtfully into your eyes, and you quickly looked away.

“Then… you know my answer,” you said with a tremor in your voice, this whole situation was so absurd, but at the same time romantic, just like in the books. The sunset, the one-on-one conversation, the veiled confession of love - all of this ignited your writer's heart and gave it inspiration, but, of course, it was all secondary. You couldn't believe that Soshiro really, really admitted to you that he noticed your feelings from the very beginning. And that he approved of them and believed that they were mutual. Oh, Gods. You were ready to pass out right then and there.

"No, I don't know," Soshiro smiled, and your breath caught in your chest. He really wanted a direct, unvarnished answer from you, even though he had admitted his own feelings in such a sophisticated way just a minute ago. You just shook your head and smiled. Something about the vice-captain remained unchanged.

"Vice-captain," you said, plucking up the courage to meet his gaze. "More precisely... Soshiro." You narrowed your eyes slightly, tasting the name, savoring it on your lips. "I... I care about you, as you may have already realised. No, not like that. I could even say that I love you, and those feelings are much more than just the relationship between a vice-captain and an officer. Of course I do not expect you to reciprocate, and if you decline my feelings, I assure you that our relationship will remain the same as they are now. This will not affect my duty as an officer in any way," a bitter lie. Of course it will, but you still will do everything possible to survive this. After all, your duties cannot allow you to behave recklessly because of emotions.

"I believe you. However," Soshiro said thoughtfully, his gaze radiating seriousness as if he was in the middle of a battlefield. "My feelings for you have gone beyond a work relationship for a long time ago already," he went silent for a moment, but then his face lit up with a sly smile again. "You specifically wanted me to say that out loud, didn't you? Tsk, well, 1:1."

You laughed heartily, happiness filling your lungs and your stomach twisting unpleasantly with excitement, but you were willing to put up with this feeling. You knew that in the end it was justified and even pleasant.

"Sorry, vice-captain," you breathed out and smiled again, still not believing what was happening. This wasn't another one of your fantasies, not another one of your works, but reality? Wow, you really could be considered lucky.

"Well, I'll be looking forward to new chapters," Soshiro stretched, moving away from the balcony railing. Despite his outward calm, you could tell from his voice and posture that he was nervous too. It was cute, you thought, but you didn't dare say it out loud. "And be sure, I'll be expecting even more interesting plot twists from you."

"Yes sir!" you said, a wide smile still playing on your face.

Soshiro always knew how to make you happy.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Mine? (Part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: Panic filled tears and comforting embraces

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1420

A/n: hehe hope yall have fun. i didnt post this part earlier because i was waiting for someone to comment and ask me to post this part lol so when i got an ask about it yesterday i was like. mm yeah im posting this today.

(the next part is almost done so... if someone comments i might just pot it on monday 🤭)

anyways, enjoy!🤭😏

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It had been mere hours since Y/n had arrived home. It was close to midnight when Y/n put Adelaide in her crib before making herself a cup of chamomile tea.

Y/n knew sleep was nowhere near her eyes because of the way her mind kept going back to Grayson and his words.

Did he really mean that? And if he did, was she making a mistake not believing him?

Did the fact that he hurt her matter more than her daughter’s happiness?

Y/n knew these thoughts were going to keep her up at night. She was not going to get even a wink of sleep, hence the chamomile tea. She’d found that out of all the things that were good for sleep, chamomile worked the best for her.

Little did she know that not even chamomile would help her tonight.

Just as she had finished rinsing her cup and placing it on the rack to dry, the loud jingling of one of Adelaide’s toys startled Y/n. She whipped around, her eyes searching around to see if something had fallen off by a wind she did not feel.

But no, this certain sound was from a toy that usually Adelaide held while sleeping, a little stick with bells attached to the end. And it came from the bedroom.

Did Adelaide wake up?

Y/n knew i was normal, but as she made her way to the bedroom where Adelade slept, she tried to push her loudly beating heart back in her chest. Alas, it seemed to be stuck in her throat.

Pushing the door open as her body continued growing colder, Y/n stepped up to Adelaide’s crib.

And what she saw had tears of panic dripping down her chin.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Grayson’s pov.

Grayson decided to get to the lounge and rest for a while, since he had more than enough time to spare. He wasn’t really hungry, so he walked over to one of the very inviting looking individual sofas and settled down, tugging his bag next to him.

He’d had nothing else to do, so he had decided that passing time at the airport would be better than staring at the ceiling of his hotel bedroom, wondering about Y/n and his daughter. The urge to go look at her one last time was too unbearable, and he knew if he stayed there for even a minute longer, he would give in.

His daughter.

A part of him still could not believe he was a father. It was so surreal. He had grown up with two younger brothers, and even thinking about it now, he could not comprehend how fast time passed. It felt like yesterday he had been holding a newborn Xander and today, Xander held Grayson’s daughter.

It was like a dream. A dream that felt too good to be true but you wanted to continue watching it nonetheless.

Expelling a breath, Grayson leaned back, his gaze drawing to the fluorescent lights that lightened the entire place. It was barely a moment after he laid down, still getting comfortable, when his phone rang.

He pulled it out of his pant’s pocket, nonchalantly staring at the screen. But then he did a double take.

Y/n.

He picked up quickly, his heart rate picking up when the crying from the other end stopped him from speaking. He remained paralyzed for a moment, then he called out his friend’s name.

"Gray-" hic "Grayson, I- I don’t-"

"Y/n? What happened?"

"Adelaide- she was turning blue when I came to check up on her, like- like she couldn’t breathe, and now-" she stopped, gasping, "she won’t stop crying. I didn’t know who to call I’m sorry-"

"I’m coming."

The shocked, questioning faces of the officials were priceless as Grayson demanded to be let out of the airport.

One particularly haughty officer had him telling them that his daughter was not well and he needed to go and so hurry the fuck up-

He drove like never before as soon as he had left the airport, deciding to shoot a text to Zabrowski as he had been the one to arrange for his car. It seemed like he was going to need the car for longer than expected.

He could not think about anything but reaching Y/n and his daughter on time. He was so focused on getting to them that he decided to just run up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.

Grayson panted as he banged on the door to her home, feeling like it was impossible to take in a breath without his lungs burning up. But he didn’t have to wait too long as the tear streaked face of Y/n came into view and she handed him a screaming Adelaide without a word.

She moved away to let him in, sniffling. Her eyes were red, her skin flushed as she stared helplessly.

"I don’t know what to do I-"

Grayson shushed her. "It’s okay, I’m here now." He thought for a moment, then- "Sit down, Y/n."

She shook her head, a new wave of tears rising in her eyes. "I can’t."

Grayson stared at her for a moment, then nodded, turning his focus back to the crying babe in his hands. He needed to be calm because babies, Grayson had noticed, were very sensitive to negative emotions. He had seen his brothers laugh even when they had hurt themselves just because others were.

It took an hour, but eventually, Adelaide settled down, nuzzling her head into Grayson’s chest and staring up at him with big, watery eyes. Eyes that were his own.

He offered her a small smile, cooing. "There you go. You scared mama. You scared me too. But don’t tell your uncles that, they will bully me, okay?"

Grayson watched as one side of her lips ticked up in a sleepy smile, and then she drifted off, her breathing evening out.

The whole time, Y/n refused to sit and relax, constantly running into the kitchen, then the bedroom, trying to see if anything could calm Adelaide down. Bringing out her milk, then her blanket, then her toys. She kept moving, as if she slowed down for a moment, she would lose her mind.

Grayson knew the feeling well, not being able to stop moving because then he would feel helpless, but he understood how much worse this situation felt like to Y/n.

She was a mother, and not all mothers were like his own. They cared, they loved, and when they did, they did it with their whole soul.

When Grayson decided that Adelaide was really asleep, he set her back into her crib, then turned to Y/n. She stood at the entrance of the bedroom, her figure hunched, timid. Her eyes refused to move from the sleeping figure of her daughter.

She looked like she’d seen a ghost, or something much worse. In this case, her daughter’s discomfort. Her oversized sweater covered her palms as she raised them to wipe at her eyes futilely, sniffling. Her legging clad legs carried her closer to Grayson, and she stared down at the crib before meeting his eyes.

"Thank you-"

Before she could say more, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into his chest.

She remained still for a moment. And then all hell broke loose as she put her arms around him and clutched at him, her fingers tight around the fabric of his shirt in her fist as if she would drown if she let go.

They stood there, her sobbing into his chest and him whispering words of comfort.

Eventually, she sagged in his arms, still whimpering from time to time as he picked her up and carried her to her bed. When he moved back, her hand shot out, tears still pooled in her eyes.

"Please, stay."

He nodded, clasping the hand at his collar and kissing the inside of her wrist.

"I am going nowhere, sweetheart. I will sit outside. Rest for now."

She shook her head stubbornly, pouting. "Stay here." at the uncertainty that was clearly visible to her, she patted the space next to her. "I won’t mind, Gray."

Finally, he obeyed and climbed in after discarding his jacket, leaving him in his white button up shirt and grey pants.

As Y/n’s eyes fluttered, Grayson reached out to card his fingers through her hair.

"Sleep. We’ll discuss this in the morning."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Mine taglist: @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @blocked-zombieartist @lillycore @lanterns-and-daydreams @bubybubsters @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @thena101 @imaseabear

The Inheritance Games Taglist: @dahliawarner @thena101 @yucanbmylxdy @sheisntyou @kitkatlover015

[lanawrx]

Johnny Joestar with Yandere Reader

a/n: I've been listening to NEW MAGIC WAND by Tyler the Creator, perfect song for obsessing and being crazy over Johnny lol

cw: violence and gruesome scenes, possessive and obsessive reader, dark thoughts

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

The camp was quiet, save for the crackling of a fire and the soft murmurs of conversation. You sat close to Johnny, your shoulder brushing against his ever so slightly. His Kentucky drawl filled the air as he talked, telling you stories from his past races—his voice like a melody you never tired of hearing. Every word he spoke made you feel like you were sinking deeper into a warm, comforting fog.

You smiled at him, soft and sweet, the way you always did. You were gentle. Kind. Everything Johnny seemed to need after everything he’d been through. Your presence made him comfortable, and the way his blue eyes sometimes lingered on you—longer than on anyone else—told you everything you needed to know. He liked you. You could see it in the way he blushed when you touched his hand, how he stumbled over his words sometimes when you smiled just right.

“Y-you’re… uh, you’re easy to talk to,” Johnny muttered, his gaze shyly dropping to the ground as he rubbed the back of his neck. His voice was quiet, like he was nervous.

You giggled softly, your heart fluttering. You loved that he was so bashful around you. Loved how his cheeks would flush whenever you gave him even the slightest bit of attention. It made your heart swell with adoration. You leaned in just a little, close enough that your breath brushed his cheek, and you whispered, "I like talking to you too, Johnny."

His face turned red, and he looked away quickly, swallowing hard. "Y-yeah, well, it's nice… havin' someone like you around."

You giggled again, feeling the warmth of your affection for him spread through your chest. But beneath that soft, tender exterior—beneath the sweetness that made Johnny blush and stammer—was something darker. A shadow that clung to your thoughts whenever another woman dared to approach him.

Like tonight.

Your smile faltered slightly as you saw her. That fangirl was back again. The one who hovered like a vulture every time Johnny and Gyro took a break. You watched her now, that sickly-sweet smile on her face as she talked to him, giggled at something he said. The sight of her was a thorn in your chest. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t know him like you did. She didn’t understand him like you did.

She doesn’t belong here. What, did she think he's up for grabs?

I fucking hate sharing.

Johnny turned toward her, an uncomfortable frown in place, and you saw the way she leaned in too close, the way her hand touched his arm. Your heart twisted violently in your chest, and the darkness inside you flared up, uncoiling like a serpent.

You felt your teeth grind together, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. Your hands, which usually rested so gently in your lap, were curled into fists, nails digging into your palms so hard it almost bled.

I should kill her.

The thought came easily now, like a whisper that slipped into your mind, soft and persuasive. It was rational—necessary even. You could see it so clearly. Her fragile little neck in your hands, bones snapping like brittle twigs. The light in her eyes dimming, flickering out, as her life drained away. You’d feel her heartbeat stutter beneath your fingers, watch her struggle, watch the fear bloom in her eyes when she realized she’d never get to speak to Johnny again. Not ever.

Why does she think she can touch him? He’s mine. He’s always been mine.

You clenched your fists, the sickening saccharine smile still on your face, but your mind was racing. Images flashed through your thoughts—dark, terrible thoughts. You imagined her gone. Erased. Out of the picture, like she never existed. You imagined your Stand, the one that had awakened after you crossed the Devil's Palm with Johnny and Gyro, wrapping around her throat, squeezing until she disappeared like smoke in the wind.

I need to get her out of the picture.

Johnny’s voice reached your ears again, low and guarded for someone who was clearly unwanted.

These goddamn bitches didn't know how to properly approach him. They were clearly fucking too stupid to handle him, with the way they endlessly chattered, sounding like a bunch of annoying chihuahuas with the way they demanded his attention.

They didn’t fucking know what it was like to need him, crave him, like air, like blood. They didn’t know what it was like to feel like your world would collapse if he so much as looked at someone else.

You shifted closer to Johnny, your fingers gently brushing his hand, drawing his attention away from her.

“Johnny,” you said sweetly, your voice soft, “do you want to come help me with the horses?”

His eyes flickered to you, and you saw the faint blush creep up his neck again. He nodded quickly, like he was relieved to have an excuse to leave the conversation. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

The bitch’s smile faltered, but she quickly covered it up, giving Johnny a lingering look. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you saw her disappointment.

Good. She should be disappointed. She should know that Johnny wasn’t hers. He wasn’t anyone’s but yours.

The thought of her hands touching him, her fingers brushing against his skin—it made you fucking sick. Your stomach twisted with revulsion, but more than that, with rage. You could feel it building inside you, dark and violent, a storm that threatened to consume everything in its path.

I’ll crush her batshit ugly skull.

The image was vivid in your mind. Her head in your hands, blood pouring from her broken mouth, eyes wide with terror. You’d leave her body in the dirt, somewhere far away where no one would ever find her.

She’d be just another forgotten casualty in the Steel Ball Run. Another nameless girl lost to the wilderness.

As you walked away with Johnny wheeling himself beside you, your hand brushing his shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel the rush of satisfaction fill you. She was nothing. Just another obstacle in the way of what you and Johnny had. But obstacles could be removed. With your Stand, it was so easy. You could make her vanish, like magic.

The two of you reached the stables, and Johnny looked to you, offering a small, awkward smile. “Thanks, I uh… didn’t really wanna talk to her.”

Your heart soared at his words, even though a darker part of you whispered, Of course you didn’t. She’s not like me. She could never be like me.

You smiled sweetly at him, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from his face. “I know, Johnny,” you said softly. “I just wanted to protect you.”

His blush deepened, and he looked away, clearly flustered. “Y-you’re always lookin’ out for me, huh?”

Your fingers lingered on his skin for just a moment longer than necessary before you pulled away, letting your hand fall to your side. I always will. No one else deserves to be near you. No one else can love you like I do.

As Johnny leaned up to check on one of the horses, your thoughts drifted back to the annoying bitch from earlier. She was still out there, probably waiting for another chance to talk to Johnny. To touch him again.

She won’t get the chance.

Your Stand stirred within you, waiting, eager to act. You didn’t even have to go back to camp. You could do it from here—send your Stand to take care of her, to eliminate the threat without anyone ever knowing.

I’ll do it for you, Johnny. I’ll do anything for you.

Your smile remained soft, kind, as you watched Johnny work. He was so perfect, so fragile, and you needed to protect him. From the fangirls, from anyone who thought they could have a piece of him. They didn’t deserve him.

I’ll make her disappear.

The darkness in your mind whispered promises of safety, of a world where it was just you and Johnny. Where no one could come between you. Where no one else mattered.

“Johnny?” you asked, your voice gentle.

He looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. The way he looked at you—it was enough to make your heart skip a beat, enough to make you believe that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

“Yeah?”

You smiled, stepping closer to him, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours. “I’ll always protect you, Johnny,” you whispered, your voice sweet as honey. “No one will ever hurt you.”

He blinked, surprised by the intensity of your words, but he smiled shyly, his cheeks flushed. “I know you will,” he mumbled, stumbling over his words like he always did when you were this close.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his cap, and watched with satisfaction as his blush deepened. He had no idea. No idea how far you’d go for him. How deep your love ran. How much you were willing to destroy to keep him safe.

You’re mine, Johnny.

And anyone who tried to take him away? They’d be gone.

Like magic.

Without another moment of hesitation, you let your Stand slip into the night, invisible to the eyes of those around you. It moved like a shadow, gliding through the dark with lethal precision. The girl didn’t even notice as it crept up behind her, hovering just out of sight.

You didn’t need to raise a hand. You didn’t need to say a word. Your Stand already knew what you wanted, what you craved. With a single thought, it struck—silent, deadly.

It was a great thing, Stands. And if you didn't have one...

You couldn't see them.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t have the chance.

Her body stiffened, eyes widening in shock as the invisible force closed around her throat, crushing her windpipe. Her hands flew to her neck, clawing at the air, gasping for breath, but it was futile. Her limbs convulsed, her face twisting in agony as the life was squeezed from her lungs.

You watched, your heart racing not with fear, but with satisfaction.

She collapsed to the ground, her body limp, her face frozen in terror. You felt a dark satisfaction settle over you as you stood, taking slow, deliberate steps toward your shared camp with Johnny and Gyro. The rest of the camp had fallen into a quiet hum, unaware of the crime you’d just committed in plain sight.

No one would ever know. No one would care.

Johnny’s head turned toward you, and when he saw you walking toward him, a soft blush spread across his cheeks. He smiled—that smile—the one that made your heart stutter, the one that made you feel like nothing else in the world mattered.

Gyro grinned at you, waving with a Nyoho!, perfectly unaware of your sins. One he'd surely be disgusted by if he knew.

And he'd surely convince Johnny to leave, if he ever found out.

Well, it's a good thing that nasty little pest was taken care of. That way, Gyro wouldn't do that!

Right?

Johnny patted the spot right next to him, always eager to have you near him.

He's so damn cute.

“We can finally be together,” you whispered, your voice soft, loving, as though you hadn’t just snuffed out a life moments ago.

Together.

The word echoed in your head, images of you and Johnny spending the rest of your lives together flashed like it was your last moment alive.

Johnny blinked, confusion flickering in his eyes, but he didn’t question it. He didn’t know. He would never know. All that mattered was that he was here, with you, now. There was nothing stopping you from being at his side forever.

“I…” Johnny’s voice wavered slightly, his blush deepening. “I’ve always felt like—well, like I could count on you. Like you’re always there.”

He smiled again, that shy, boyish grin that made you weak in the knees.

"Always and forever!" You beamed, lips bitten and cracked from endless nights of habitually chewing them while fantasizing about him.

For now, another problem was gone.

Like magic.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡ Thanks for Reading! ˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

[arsensonfire]

Wedding Bells 🕊️ A Trevor Phillips Fanfic

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

ﾟ。 𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒔

　ﾟ･｡･ 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤

🤍 🕊️🖇️ any!reader x fluffy!trev

🤍 🕊️🖇️ no major TW (kinda horny lol)

No one thought they would see the day—-After months of seeing each other and spending time together, Trevor had finally done it. He proposed to you. It was a grueling process (Mikey and Franklin usually having to hear long rants about how badly he wanted to commit and he should finally just pop the question), but when the answer came it was no less than a ‘Fuck Yeah!’

Many days had passed of planning and discussing details—finding exactly what theme and colors you both wanted—It was really exciting going to different stores and watching Trevor try on different suits. You both decided on a pink wedding. There would be no fancy reception or anything like that (Trev had made it clear that it was the D train to pound town right after) but there was a nice venue by the beach that you picked.

It was happening, and the days that followed felt surreal as you clung to your fiance—fiance, it was fun to say and you used it as often as you could. Correcting those that didn't get the news, correcting yourself and when the day of the wedding finally turned up, it was like a dream.

You stumbled back in from your no-longer-not-married party at around 12am and found yourself crashed on the couch of your apartment around noon. Dehydrated but excited, you walked and stretched in your early state of wakefulness and opened to door too your bedroom, expecting to see a sleeping Trevor. Once the door finally opened, The bed laid empty with messy sheets.

Confused and starting to panic, you lightly sprinted back to the couch and fumbled for your phone. After finding it, you dialed Trevor. Getting no answer after calling and calling, you finally rang Michael, who picked up. Having no idea what to think, Michael answered.

“Hey, (Y/N), I, uhhh-... I got some bad news…”

His voice sounded more fearful than dooming. You took a deep sigh as frustration fell on you suddenly. It occurred to you what was going on instantly.

“Did you guys do a fucking Hangover?!” Irritation evident in your voice, Michael started defending himself immediately.

“Of course not! We just got fucked up and now we can't find … oh shit, that is a hangover. Fuck! Yeah we did a Hangover…”

Now pinching the bridge of you're nose, you heard Franklin's voice jump on the line. Reassurance washed over you, as you felt like you were about to hear something reasonable. “Look, (y/n) We’re sorry but we're still looking for him. We guarantee he'll be there by the start of the wedding.”

“Oh, God, I can't believe you guys are doing a Hangover to me- Fine! Okay, just make sure he's all in one piece please. Thank you.” With a click, you signed deeply and started getting ready yourself.

Within the span of four hours, guests and family pulled into their seats. It was small but Wade and Ron were there, even in actual formal attire!

You stood at the altar, looking out past the venue entry way as you grew more anxious than angry. A pair of headlights pulled into view and shut off once parked in the lot nearby. Watching closely, you saw a well dressed Michael and Franklin jumped out to retrieve a battered and bruised Trevor from the back.

Out of excitement and shock, you grabbed the arm of the officiant (Elvis, upon Trevor's request) and let go to rush to your soon-to-be-husbands side. “Trev, baby,” You cooed, getting a closer look at his injuries; minor cuts and littered small bruises but you were concerned no less.

“You look beautiful,” Trevor spoke seductively, pulling you closer by the waist to plant a long and deep kiss on you. The two of his friends both beside him, both looked away awkwardly until you both were done.

Taking you by the hand to lead you away and back to the altar, the rest of the wedding carried on with Elvis doing his best funky interpretation of the Officiant Script. During which, Trevor even shed a few tears.

With about as much if not more partying, he kissed you again, this time firmly squeezing your ass while he did it. You held his face and leaned into it, the small crowd writing in cheers and yelps of happiness.

“Now,” Trevor started, lifting you up in both arms. “Time for a little consummation.” He insisted, walking you both down the aisle again.

𝓯𝓲𝓷.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

It’s me again :D

I had this thought where pretty told Chris to sit on the bed and close his eyes and then she shows him the new lingerie she bought. Like if she got more than one set and told Chris to wait to touch her because there is more… I think he would either be like sure pretty show me or he would just ask her for a kiss before she goes put on the next set but he holds pretty when she is about to pull back from the kiss and tells her that he can’t wait longer to touch her :((

I think it would be funny for pretty when she just walks around in underwear and a oversized shirt of Chris and a pair of black thighs to tease Chris :)

the mental image this gave me was too good not to write a little drabble for it.... so here it is! it might not be exactly as you had imagined, but i think it's good enough ehehhe

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~1k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · smut · established relationship · oral [M.Rec] · this was barely proof-read please bear with me lol 

minors do not interact.

“Mmm… Yeah. This one’s definitely the prettiest one”.

“Chris”, the pout on your lips made him smile, you just looked so cute. Cute… What a good balance to what you were wearing, a combination that looked nothing short of absolutely delicious to him. “You’ve said that about every single one! That barely helps”.

“Pretty, baby… Look at me. Any set you put on right now will be the prettiest one”, Chris leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs further apart where he sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted you to focus on the movement, he needed you to see the effects your little fashion show had on him.

Earlier, as soon as he’d come out of the shower, without even waiting for him to put anything on, you’d taken a hold of his arm and dragged him to your shared bedroom. Repeating ‘Come, come, come’, finishing with an excited ‘Got something to show you!’

And something to show him you had…

As soon as he had sat down on the bed, you’d asked him to ‘Close your eyes, baby, okay? No peeking!’ and he just giggled and complied. Why wouldn’t he? You sounded just so excited, and he was incredibly weak to your smile, so of course he complied, no questions asked.

Honestly, he’d have to remind you to give him heads-ups for these things, because every time you surprised him with lingerie, he almost fainted with how quickly his insides set on fire. He almost stood up from the bed as soon as he saw you, but he was sure you were just able to see his intentions perfectly in his eyes, which was why you stopped him.

‘Nuh-uh. No touching. I need you to help me decide which one looks best so I can take it with me for our trip this weekend. I just know that if you touch me, I won’t get to show you the other ones’. Chris figured there’d be no harm in humouring you. After all, seeing you try on different garments would be far from a displeasing activity, so he remained seated as you twirled and turned in all sorts of directions so he could see you in every single angle possible.

As usual, Chris underestimated how horny his inner wolf could be–how horny he could be… He should know better by now, but, clearly, he wasn’t thinking with the right head when he agreed to this.

Babydolls… Four of them–each with their matching panties underneath, of course. You’d tried on four different babydolls in the span of twenty minutes, and Chris was honestly close to snapping.

You’d started off strong, with a red set, next came a black one, then a lilac one, and now this one, white. They all had their own distinct shapes and textures, but this last one was the one that looked the most comfortable. With no underwires in the chest area, lacy, pretty much transparent, doing nothing but accentuating all those areas of your body he just wanted to sink his teeth into…

He had reached his limit, and it was more than obvious with the raging hard-on he’d been sporting for what he figured had been probably eighteen minutes. He couldn’t sit still anymore, it was almost like his mind was screaming at him, he just had to openly show you just how aroused he was.

The pout was gone from your lips, it disappeared the moment you focused on his leaking cock resting against his lower abdomen, when your tongue had come out of your mouth to lick your bottom lip. Now he was sure you were close to snapping yourself, it was just clear as day to him in the shift in your scent.

“You look gorgeous in all of them. Take them all, and I promise that if you let me, I’ll fuck you in all of them, on all surfaces of the house”, it was a very serious offer. One that you seemed to be genuinely considering, especially when you started walking towards him, until you stood between his parted legs and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“But it’s extra baggage. We gotta take all the other stuff with us…”

Chris could always trust you to be worried about these things. Of course you’d be worried about your practically weightless babydolls somehow taking enough space that you’d have to sacrifice all the other supplies you were both taking to his house in the woods. As if that could somehow ruin the preparations for the full moon next week…

It honestly made it much worse for him and his will to stay put, because not only did you look finger-licking good in your little outfit, but you were once again showing your commitment to your pack. Both were equally as effective in riling him up.

“Pretty”, Chris brought both hands to your chest to push your breasts together, creating the perfect space for him to bury his face into. He pressed a few kisses on the soft flesh, right before he started mumbling against your skin. “It’ll be fine. Everything will fit just fine. I’d even put these in the car’s glove box, my pockets, anywhere if necessary, as long as I can see you wearing them there”.

His mouth easily found one of your nipples, he teased it with his tongue over the fabric before sucking it into his mouth. It had been almost automatic, when he registered what he was doing he briefly worried he was, as usual, getting carried away.

That worry was very short-lived. One of your hands moved from his shoulder to his head, where you buried your fingers in his hair with a satisfied hum. Meanwhile, his hands found the back of your thighs, so he could gently knead the luscious flesh.

“You want just to see me in them?”

The suggestive lilt in your words made him smile, enough that he let your breast fall out of his mouth so he could smile brightly at you. “Oh, don’t worry, love. I stand by what I said. I’ll fuck you in every single one of them, in ever single room of the house, over every single surface. Multiple times, too. Anything you let me do, and anything you want, I’ll do it”.

You leaned down to finally give him a kiss. He’d been dying to kiss you since you showed him the very first babydoll, but it seemed like you had no plans to let him kiss you as much as he would’ve liked. At least not for now. Instead, you dropped to your knees, right there between his legs, before your hands found his thighs.

Your nails sunk on his skin, and the way you were looking at him, coupled with the almost teasing caresses on his thighs, were bringing him even closer to his snapping point.

Pretty mate… Pretty mate in her pretty gown… Take her. Must take her now…

Chris was trying very hard to ignore his instincts, to keep his logical human side at the forefront of his mind, but it was just so hard when you were looking him right in the eyes, with that look of yours that just made his head spin. It was almost like you knew he was close to his limit, because you finally leaned in further, until your lips found the base of his length, where you pressed a kiss with a hum.

“That doesn’t sound too bad…”

He leaned back on his hands as you kept leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on his skin, until you reached the very tip of his cock and licked the frenulum on the underside. 

As Chris took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as he got hit with the smell of your scent and the feel of your mouth around him, he wasn’t sure if this specific babydoll you were wearing would make it to his house…

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

tagging everyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know ! If you want to be added to the tag list, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

@comet-falls · @princelingperfect · @notastraykid · @iadorethemskz @kileidoscope · @maknae00 · @dundullresident · @vitrealisbunny · @yeetfellx · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @oiminho · @binchangf · @leedunno · @luxsonny · @mamieishere · @straylightdream · @bintificreads · @seo--changbin · @abcdefgiwsmcty · @ppiri-bahng · @letsbangchanblog · @fun-fanfics · @armystay89 · @iightsung · @cutiespaghetti · @noellllslut · @100layersofdaddyissues · @toplinehyunjin · @tartshearts · @biribarabiribbaem · @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad · @stayconnecteed · @floatingcoffecup · @5starlee · @ven-fic-recs

[the-guilty-writer]

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Request from @steveharringtonsgirl04: Hey! I have a request you can totally say not to it but it just keeps coming back in my head lol  soo dad hotch x teen reader where she just wants her dad to hold her :( like all the hotch hugs so he takes her to the BAU and nobody knows he has a daughter btw I absolutely adore your writing it’s literally my favorite!

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Summary: Hard days are always made better by Hotchner hugs.

A/N: I fully admit that I am lacking in creativity at the moment and I don’t love the “secret family” trope, so this is just short and fluffy Hotch being the best dad

CW: reader gets her period, mentions of vomiting, suggestion that reader’s mother is Haley but could always be adopted or from another relationship

---

“Everyone has his day and some last longer than others.”

Well, you were having your day. And it was bad. Before the lunch bell rang for the day you’d already gotten a terrible night sleep, had Jack spill juice on your favorite top, been late for class, gotten locked out of your locker, tripped over your own feet causing you to face plant in front of the upperclassmen, and gotten your period.

It was safe to say that you were having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

You riffled through your backpack, looking for the bottle of Advil to ease the cramps, but when you found it, it was empty. You cursed under your breath.

Terrible. Horrible. No Good. Very Very Bad Day.

With the knowledge that you’d be unable to get through the rest of the day without being in pain, you swallowed your pride and went to the nurse’s office.

“I’m going to have to call a parent or guardian to bring you something,” the older lady told you. “It’s against school policy for me to give students medication without a doctor's note. Is there someone I can call?”

Usually the answer would have been Jessica, but for once she was the guardian who was out of town.

“Yeah, um, my dad,” you said.

The nurse gave you a sympathetic look and left. She came back a few minutes later. “He’s on his way,” she informed you.

Feeling exhausted and uncomfortable, all you could do was nod.

---

When Hotch walked into the nurse’s office an hour later, he thought you might be on the verge of vomiting. While you tried to look as stoic as him, the paleness of your face gave away how you were actually feeling, and the guilt that he couldn’t get there sooner made his heart sink.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you, sitting next to you on the cot. He pulled a bottle of Advil from his pocket and handed it to you.

“Thanks.” Your hands were slow but your voice was grateful. “Sorry you had to drive all the way here.”

“No need to apologize.” He kissed your forehead before you downed the pills. You leaned into him slightly and he wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

“‘S not your fault,” your voice was muffled by his suit. You leaned into him and he held you gladly. Just like your mom, you’d always liked hugs, even more so when you hurt.

“Do you want to come to work with me?” he asked. “You can come lay on the couch in my office for the rest of the day.”

You didn’t even question it. “Yes, please."

He signed you out at the front desk. You got a few funny looks, probably doubts that your cramps were really bad enough that you needed the rest of the day off school, but nobody was going to question the glock on your dad's hip or the ID on his shirt.

He helped you into the car, always showing you how any future partner you have should treat you. By the time he climbed into the drivers side, you were already slumped against the door, fast asleep. A gentle smile crept over Hotch’s face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, careful not to wake you, and then began driving to the office at Quantico.

---

“Do you need anything?” Your dad asked before he sat down at his desk.

You were curled up on the couch in his office, a warm cup of tea on the small table in front of you and a fuzzy blanket. Halfway through the drive, your dad had stopped to get your favorite food. You had your laptop out so you could relax and watch your favorite movies. Really, you had everything.

“A hug?” you requested. That was the one thing he’d never say no to. He sat beside you on the couch and pulled you into a hug- the safest feeling in the world. As he let go, he kissed your forehead and then pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

You put the headphones on and turned on the movie. Your dad began his paperwork.

It was no longer a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 4 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: God I am about to start my period and I needed this y'all. Lol. It does lean more towards Steve than Steddie in this case and there was a reason story wise that I did that.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Plus Size sub reader. Like I said this is more of a Steve chapter but reader does mention Eddie a lot and the events of the previous chapter. Phone smut so dirty talk abound with degrading. Reader does get picked on again by Carol and starts a fight (both girls get hurt; not much), Reader hits Steve, she does use the save word but its not in a sexual setting. You'll see.

I think that's it.

Word Count: 3708

“What happened?!”

“Masie, Jesus Christ, nothing happened. Steve let me use his shower and then I crashed in the guest bedroom. It’s fine.”

Over the weekend and into the start of new school week, your friend continued to ask you the same question repeatedly. Every time you gave her the same answer but she never seemed to believe it. 

“Why would you even want to stay there?”

“Can we drop it? Please?”

“Fine. I’ll drop it for now but at some point, you have to come clean about your crush on Eddie Munson.” You roll your eyes as you close your locker and walk with her to lunch. “You know his dad is in jail, right?”

“Maze!”

“What! I’m just saying.”

As you both headed to your table, Eddie flashed you a small smile before focusing his attention back to his friends. When you passed Steve’s usual table, however, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t there. He had been in class that morning so he was here today and he was in class that afternoon. 

You wanted to ask him what was going on but you still didn’t know how to approach him or Eddie during school hours. You didn’t even know what the three of you were. 

Since you no longer had detention, you promptly returned home after school and tried to focus on your homework but it was hard. They both kept flashing through the back of your mind. You still didn’t know much about either of them and they definitely didn’t know anything about you. 

You did know Eddie Munson’s father was in prison but you weren’t sure what for. The town came up with their own ideas and used them against the metalhead whenever they could. Your parents always warned you to stay away from him because he was “bad news” but to you the rumors always seemed far-fetched. 

Steve Harrington you thought you did know but as you learned you didn’t. Every time you two talked, you found out something new and the new pieces left you more confused. 

For two people who seemed to like to take charge, they appeared to have little to no control over their surroundings.  

The sound of your phone ringing shook you out of your thoughts as you leaned over to your bed side table to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N. It’s Steve. Steve Harrington.”

“Hey. Good thing you told me your last name. Wouldn’t want to confuse you with the other Steve I’m expecting to call.” The sound of his breathy laugh made you grin. 

“Fuck that other Steve. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“No. You’re not bothering me. I’m just doing my homework for our history class.”

“None of that shit makes any sense to me.”

“I, um, I can help you…if you want. Maybe, after school or something.”

“You’d want to help me?”

“Yeah, of course. Eddie to if he wants it. I know he’s having some trouble with Ms. O’Donnell’s class.” There was silence on his end except for the sound of his steady breathing. A sigh escaped your lips at the action, reminding you of falling asleep beside his warm, comforting frame. “Steve. Why weren’t you at lunch today?”

“Were you looking for me, honey?”

“No. I mean, I pass you both on the way to my table and you weren’t at yours with your friends.”

“Yeah. I didn’t feel like…dealing with them today.”

“Hm. I understand the feeling.” He became silent again making you worry. “Steve…are you okay?”

“Of course, I am.” You heard what sounded like him adjusting his body as he shifted on his bed. “Why? Do I not sound fine?”

“You just sound a little…lethargic.”

“Why? Because I’m calling to talk to you?! Look, I just wanted to hear your voice, okay?”

“Steve! Steve! Breathe, baby.” You have no idea where that term of endearment came from or what gave you the confidence to use it. Maybe it was hearing his panic or you just needing to hear his own confidence return. He didn’t scold you for saying it nor reprimand you in anyway so you decided to test the waters and see where this took you when it came to Steve Harrington. 

“Breathe. I’m glad you called. I really am. I just hate hearing you sound so sad. I wish I could be there so I could hold you and make you feel better.”

His breathing had begun to slow and you felt the tension break. “Is that all you would do if you were here?”

“I’d do anything you wanted me to, sweetheart. I belong to you and Eddie.”

“Yeah, baby. You do. Where are you right now? In bed?” When you confirm, his groan fills the receiver. “Me to. What, uh, what are wearing?”

“Nothing attractive.”, you giggle. “I have a big, blue oversized shirt and my pajama shorts.” 

Steve chuckles at your admission; not in a mocking way but filled with adoration especially at your honesty. “Most girls lie about that kind of thing. It’s kind of ridiculous like guys don’t expect you to be lounging at home in your lingerie.”

“Well, I don’t have any lingerie so”, you laugh harder. 

“Shit, Y/N. We need to correct that as soon as possible! I’m not going to lie though; I think you still look sexy in what you have on.”

“How would you know!? You can’t even see me.”

“Because you look beautiful in everything you wear.” A pleasure filled gasp finds its way from your lips. You weren’t expecting that. “Yeah? You like hearing me compliment you, pretty girl?”

“I…I do.”

“Why don’t you get naked for me? Like when you were here.” While you do as your told, he continues to talk to you. “I really did like waking up with you naked next to me. I can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous your fucking body is. Every fucking curve just…drives me crazy. Fuck, I’m so fucking hard right now just thinking about it.”

“Steve…”, you moan at his words as you climbed back into bed with your legs spread. 

“Do you have toys or anything?”

“Please. My parents would kill me if they found anything like that.”

“How do you usually get yourself off?”

“Honestly? I…don’t.”

Now this particular laugh he gave was meant to tease. “Honey, you’re telling me that you, the girl that said she likes to be used and fucked senseless…DOESN’T play with herself almost every day?”

“I’m telling you…yes.”, you smirk. “It’s not that I don’t know how or don’t want to…it just never worked for me. And I haven’t tried since we started fucking because I’m too fucking sore.”

You both laugh, yours much breathier than his. 

“Is your pussy still sore?”

“A little. Eddie really wore it out.”

“I bet he did. Did you like it though? Him fucking you like the whore you are?

“Steve.”, you whimpered as your hips slowly began to grind onto air. 

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“Yes, I liked him fucking me like a whore.”

“Fuck. Put your fingers between your legs, baby, and tell me how fucking wet you are.”

Gliding you digits between your folds; you feel the slick practically leaking down your thighs. “You’re making me drip, Steve. My sheets are soaked already. Are…are you stroking your big, thick cock?”

“Y/N, I’ve been palming my dick since you said you belong to us.”

“Aw, do you need me to remind you sometimes?”

“No…I just like hearing you say it. To hear you…fuck…submit. Put your fingers inside of your cunt.” Steve’s tone became more forceful and you promptly did as he commanded, whimpering at the feeling. “God, you sound so fucking sexy. H-how many fingers are you using?”

“Mmm—two.”

“Use one more.”

“Steve…I-I-I can’t.”

“Don’t fucking talk back to me. Remember, you’re the whore here, Y/N. You can take—mmm—our cocks but you can’t take three of your tiny fingers?!”

Your mouth opened in a silent O as you squeeze one more digit into your tight hole, moaning at the sweet feeling of you stretching yourself open. 

“Good girl. Such a good fucking girl for me. How does it feel?”

“Full…so…full. Fuck…I’m gonna—”

“Me to. Cum for me, honey.” You turned your head, muffling your moans in your pillow as you came. On the other line, you heard Steve grunt followed by his own heavy breathing. 

“Are you…okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, I am. Fuck.”, you laughed as your head fell back. 

“Don’t put your clothes back on. I want you to fall asleep naked and dream of me, pretty girl. Okay? Fuck, I wish you had a toy so you could sleep with it inside you because I would give anything to be able to do that with you right now.”

“Steve…”

“Do you like that idea? Fuck, just thinking of me and Eddie being able to fall sleep with us both inside you is making me hard again. Waking up in the middle of the night to take you again…over and over…Jesus.”

“Steve…I-I have to go. Please, don’t get me worked up again.”, you giggle trying to hide your moans at his words. “Good night, baby.”

“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

#################

During your free period the next day, you sat in the hallway leaning near your locker as you studied for an up coming test. The sound of squeaking sneakers followed by loud skidding made you look up just in time to see Eddie sliding on his jeaned knees toward your side.

“Hey princess.” You giggled as you grinned up at him. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m just studying for a test.” When you flashed him your notecards, he immediately yanked them out of your grasp as he got more comfortable beside you. 

“Geez, look at you all prepared. Why are you out here and not in the library or something?”

“There’s no one out here.” You gesture along the hallway for emphasis. “Plus, it’s quieter than the library…for some reason.”

“I heard you offered to help Harrington and I with our classes.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I don’t mind. I’m not great with everything but…” Eddie nods as you flash him a tiny smile. 

“I’d like that a lot. Unless it’s D & D, I struggle to retain that information. It’s almost like my brain shuts off or something.” He hands you back your cards and you place them in your lap. “How are you doing? Since the party I mean.”

“I’m ok. My dad didn’t smell any of the beer and thankfully Masie’s mom smokes so anything from your van he didn’t take as out of the ordinary.”

“Are you trying to tell me that my van smells like smoke?” He playfully squints his eyes at you as you laugh. 

“I’m saying that sometimes when I leave you two, I come in smelling like you two especially your cigarettes.” You glance towards the floor as you fidget with your hands. “It doesn’t bother me though…the smoke smell. It, um, makes me think of you now.”

You blushed as you felt his eyes on your face. “Sweetheart, you can’t get all shy on me now. Especially after a little bird told me you said you enjoyed me fucking you like the whore you are.” Your eyes locked with his as he grinned. “I wish I heard you say it for myself.”

After looking around, you reached for his chin as your thumb glided along him bottom lip. “I liked you fucking me, Eddie. I told Steve I was still sore from how you stretched me open.”

His breath stuttered a bit as his lips puckered out to kiss the pad of your finger. You both jumped a part at the sound of heels as a teacher breezed pass the hallway. 

“I wish I could fuck you right now.”, he whispered. “I have to go to this stupid fucking class or Principal Higgins threatened to suspend me again. My uncle will throw a fit.”

“Is that who you live with… your uncle?”

“Yup. In the trailer park a few miles down the way.”

“Where’s your mom?”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours with an amused smile. “I’m assuming since you asked that instead of where both my parents are that you’ve heard the rumors about my dad.”

“I know the town has their own stories… I’d rather hear it from you. Whenever you’re ready I mean.” 

He scans your over trying to get a read on you just as Steve had. You jump when the bell rings and students quickly begin filing out into the hall. Without another word, he rises to his feet, smiling down at you before disappearing in the herd of kids.

#############

As the day came to a close, you headed for the parking lot, lost in the prospect that one of the boys would call you tonight. You froze as you noticed a small crowd had gathered near a spot you were sure your car was currently sitting. As you pushed past people, the murmurs got louder until you finally made your way to the middle. 

You bag and books fell to the ground as your arms collapsed to your sides. On the side of your vehicle, spray painted in big letters were the words “Fat whore” in bright orange. The first thing that flashed through you mind was panic. How am I supposed to drive home with this? Everyone is going to see it. My parents are going to quiz me and demand to speak with the principal. They would cause a scene which is something I don’t need. 

Then, that fear was replaced with extreme anger. He told them. Steve told them about what him and I have been up to. How could he do this? I knew he wasn’t any different!

“Love the new paint job, Y/N?” Carol’s snarky tone cut through your internal breakdown. “I think it suits you.”

Something snapped inside of you as you gradually made your way over to before punching her square in the nose. Carol fell backwards, collecting her bearings before charging at you. As you both fell to the ground, the crowd started screaming and chanting. 

Suddenly, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and lift you off the girl underneath you. You fought trying to get back to her but it was no use.

“Y/N! Stop! Stop it!” Eddie held you tighter to him as he tried to calm you down. 

“Get the fuck off of me!”, you shouted.

“Stupid bitch! This isn’t over!”, Carol screamed as Tommy cupped her face in his hands. 

“Yes, it is!” Steve’s voice boomed over everyone else’s as he placed himself in front of you. “Stop this now. No more name calling or humiliating her. Just leave her the fuck alone.”

“What’s it to you?”, Tommy asked. “We’re your friends and if I recall Stevie boy you laughed along with us when we were doing that so called ‘humiliation’ in the past.”

“You’re not my friends anymore. Now get the fuck out of my face or else I will make yours look exactly like your girlfriend’s.”

They glared at each other before Tommy turned around and tugged Carol’s arm as they headed for their car. Steve swiveled his body to face you as you continued to fight against Eddie’s hold. As soon as they are far enough away and the crowd had dissipated, he releases you and you promptly fly towards the other boy, smacking him in the face. 

“How could you do this to me!? I thought you were different! How could you tell them everything?!” 

You fist flew again and he immediately caught your wrist, spinning you around till your back was against his chest. 

“Eddie. Van.”

You continue to struggle as he clings to you, pushing you forward to follow the metalhead. Once they reach his vehicle, Eddie climbs in and starts the engine while Steve throws you in the back, crawling in behind you. 

The van begins to move as you continue to fight and push, him allowing it before capturing you again and trapping you in his lap. What’s happening? Where are they taking me? How could he do this? How could he do this? How could he—"

“VANILLA!”

As soon as you shout the safe word, Eddie stomps on the breaks causing all the three of you to tilt forward. You climbed out of the bed of the van, tears clouding your vision as you began to walk away. 

“Y/N, wait.” Steve tries to grab your arm, ducking when you take another swing. “Please, I’m trying to respect your boundaries but you need to stop hitting me!”

“How could you do that!?”

“Do what?! What do you think I did!?”

“You told them! You told them I like being degraded and used!”

“Y/N, I haven’t talked to either of them since my party on Saturday.”

“Oh, fuck you! So, Carol just happens to call me a whore the day after we talk about it over the phone?!”

“I swear on my life I only told Eddie about that call. Honestly, it’s kind of pissing me off that you think I would ever stoop that low and hurt you like that! I may be an asshole but I’m not a complete fucking asshole.”

“That makes no sense.”, Eddie chuckles behind him. Steve rolls his eyes as he places his hands on his hips.

“How can I trust you, Steve? Tommy was right. You laughed along with them many times. What am I supposed to think?”

The man sighs as he begins to angrily pace. A thought shimmers in his eyes before he marches towards the van and sits on the back end. 

“What are you doing?”, you ask as he starts taking off his shoes.

“I don’t know how to show you that you can trust me especially after all the fucked up shit that I’ve done so I’m going for the next best thing.” 

Eddie’s jaw drops as Steve takes off his shirt and pants, exposing himself for anyone who should be driving by. 

“Tell me what I have to do. I’ll stand here all night or I can go back to the school and saunter down the hallways with my dick hanging out. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.” A smile creeps across your face causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say a word. Carol says stupid shit like that all the time. It’s like the only words she knows are ‘Whore. Bitch. And Tommy is it in yet.”

You laugh hard at that as he gradually steps toward you. “May I hug you?” As soon as you nod, he arms descend around you, clinging to your body. When you hiss, he pulls back slightly, seeing the blood glistening on your shoulder. “Munson.”

“Oh shit. Yeah, I have some stuff at the trailer. Looks like she scratched you good, sweetheart. Do you feel safe enough to come over or do you want me to take you home?”

“I can come over.”

##############

Eddie’s room was completely different from Steve’s but exactly how you would picture it when it came to the metalhead. It was a total mess which didn’t seem to bother him at all as he tore through the area looking for something to take care of you. The band posters on the wall made you smile as they were some of the bands you and Masie always listened to when you slept over. 

You reached out and picked up a folder hanging slightly off his nightstand. “Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Screen”. As you flip through it, your eyes take in all the monster and story information he’s collected, smiling at the sloppy notes he’s written along to side. 

“Steve, is there a particular reason you haven’t put your clothes back on?”, Eddie asks as he throws himself down on the bed next to you. “Take this off, babe.”, he whispers softly as he tugs at the hem of your shirt.

“It was to prove a point but now I’m just comfortable.”, he chuckles.

“Shit. I have to call my dad. May I?”, you ask as you reach for his phone. 

He nods as he places the damp rag in his hand on your shoulder and you hiss at the sting. Eddie’s other hand runs through your hair down the back of your head and you smile at the gesture as you dial your home phone. 

“Jesus, Y/N, where are you? You were supposed to be home 30min ago.”

“I know, mom. I’m sorry. My car kind of gave out on me so Masie’s dad towed it to the shop. I’m still here.”

“Hm. Well, I’m glad you’re ok. Will you be spending the night again? I need to know so I can tell your dad.”

Your eyes shift between the men in front of you as you try to decide. “Um, yeah. I will be spending the night. That way I can pick up my car in the morning before school.”

“That’s a good idea. Ok, sweetie. Have fun with Masie and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Look at you, you bad girl.”, Eddie grins as you hang up the phone. “What gives you the idea that you CAN spend the night here, hm?”

“SOMEONE informed me that you both like sleeping beside me naked so… I figured I’d utilize the opportunity.” You beamed up at him as he removed the rag and tossed it to the side. 

“Um, fuck, I don’t have any bandages or anything. Not ones big enough for this.”

“It’s ok. It doesn’t really hurt as much anymore…”

“I can grab some from the corner store when I go get her car later.”

“Oh, Steve, you don’t have to do that—”

“Do you not want me to?”, he cut you off. 

“Um, I mean, I don’t mind. I’m just saying—”

“Ok. Case closed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as the other man leans back flat on his bed, reaching on to his floor, and throwing a pair of sweats at him. “At least but on some pants for right now for God’s sake. I think you proved your point.”

###########

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch @chelebelletx

@shayeddie @emmaless-01 @anaibis

[southernbluebellereader]

Coffee shop AU? Nah, gas station AU.

Reader who works the night shift and Ghost who comes in at unholy hours to buy a specific brand of snacks only found there.

This is a request but only if you feel like it!

Emergency Snack Run

A/N: GIRL. I love this. We love us some night owls up here. I think gas station is better lol this took a little longer than expected because life and I had like 50 different ways of how I wanted to end this but I'm happy where it went.

Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Gas Station Clerk Reader

Warnings: bothersome customer/attack; unwanted attention

Master List (Tag List at the bottom)

Honestly, you liked working the night shift. It was quiet. And despite what most people think, most of the weird people come during the day. But occasionally someone would come in during your shift that creeped you out enough to keep one hand on the emergency call button and the other on the metal bat that was kept under the cash register.

Anyways. You usually worked the night shifts during the week. Almost no one came in, and you could stock up the shelves or read your magazines in peace. You're technically not supposed to sleep on the job, but if you positioned yourself correctly while sitting behind the cash register, you could hide your face from the camera and from the window well enough so that no one could see that you were sleeping. And the door would hit a bell every time it opened and closed, waking you up from a solid fifteen minute nap.

You liked Wednesdays. Usually it was the quietest, but it also tended to be the most boring. The only reason you liked it was because-

Ding.

Ding.

You didn't even have to look up from your magazine to see who it was, but you did anyways. You looked at the time, then smiled up at the darkly clad man. 3:04 AM.

It was almost like clockwork, every Wednesday at around three in the morning. You expected it. Even when he was gone for weeks, sometimes months. And he was finally back.

"Simon! You're back."

You chuckled at his grunt and brief eye contact as he walked through the chip aisle.

"What happened to my crisps?"

Every time he came, you'd put his favorite crips in the same spot and make sure they were well-stocked. You always kept a few bags on the side just in case the shelves were empty.

"You're out." The large man was suddenly by your counter, placing a few drinks on your counter. The corner of his mouth was slightly curved. Only God knows when you'd ever see his full smile.

"Who says I'm out?" You smile and pull out three bags of his favorite crisps from under the cash register and placed them on the counter, beginning to ring him up. "You know the truck comes in on Thursdays, Simon."

"Yeah yeah, thank you, Y/N." Simon chuckled and paid for his snacks.

"Just Y/N? Geezer comes every day at six in the morning always trying to serenade me."

Simon took his change from you and placed it in the empty jar next to the register. You weren't supposed to keep a tip jar, Simon just hated keeping change. So you just kept it there. You smiled at him as you put his food in a plastic bag. He couldn't help but sigh and smile, "You're God-sent, Y/N. That better?"

"Much better. Good seeing you Simon."

"Yeah yeah, see you next week. Call me when that Geezer comes in here, that metal bat isn't going to do anything."

"Yeah yeah, see you next week, Simon." You shooed him away and he gave you a wink as he left the store.

---

"Geezer, I'm calling Simon!"

Geezer was the crazy person who would come in almost every morning at six in the morning, half-crazy, half-harassing everyone both in and out of the gas station.

"OooOOooH who's Simon? That your boyfriend? I thought I was your boyfriend, Miss Y/N!" Geezer leaned over the counter, getting closer to you. You were the only one working until at least seven in the morning.

It was Monday, you knew it was out of the ordinary for Simon to come to the gas station. He'd given you his phone number months ago on the back of his receipt under a note reading:

When you finish your magazine

/Simon

You hadn't called him - nothing ever happened that you couldn't handle, and every time Geezer came, someone else would be in the store to help you.

You cursed under your breath and quickly dialed his number, before you could put your phone up to your ear, Geezer was nearly on the counter, nearly cornering you. You didn't get a chance to grab the bat.

You couldn't even comprehend what the crazed man was saying, but thanking whoever was in Heaven when you barely heard Simon's voice on the phone.

"Y/N? You alright?"

"S-Simon! Can you-

"Simon? Is that Simon?"

Simon's heart began to race, he couldn't tell if it was racing in his throat, his ears, or in the bottom of his stomach. "Y/N, keep the phone on. I'm almost there."

He was due to deal with rookie training but he'd rather have Price chew him out. The gas station was only a few minutes away from the base. Simon made it there in less than that.

You didn't even see or hear Simon come in. Geezer had you trapped in the corner by the cigarettes. He saw your phone and threw it to the side. You didn't even process how much the man smelled or how dirty he was, you just wanted him off of you. You could barely keep him off of you and he was practically on top of you.

Your cool and sassy persona had been stripped, you felt helpless - you were helpless. You begged the old man to get off of you.

"Please let me go! Please, the register is open!"

"You think I want money, pretty girl? Why do you think I come here every morning?"

Before you could move a muscle. Geezer was yanked away from you by a large hand. You yelped in fear and covered your face. Simon ran behind the counter and had pulled the old man off of you, not saying a word. Geezer did all the yelling as he was being dragged to the back of the store, loud grunts and moans of pain and pleads for mercy could be heard in between punches.

You stayed on the floor, sobbing under your hands, scared to move a muscle, scared to move your hands away from your face.

"Y/N?"

The voice was a little rough around the edges, yet soft and gentle. But you were still afraid to look. Simon crouched in front of you, giving you a moment to realize that it was safe. He felt guilty. He never understood why you chose to work night shifts, despite his protests that it was unsafe, and your reassurances that it was ok.

He liked seeing you every Wednesday at three in the morning. You were a constant in his life. A reassurance that something - or someone - would always be there. He should have done something sooner, but he'd let his guard down with you - he'd let it down too much and if you hadn't called him, who knows what would've happened.

After a moment, unsure of what to do, he reluctantly leaned forwards and gently placed his hands on your back against your shoulder blades, speaking out loud every action he did so that nothing would come as a surprise.

"Y/N. Everything is ok now. I'm going to put my hands on your back and move you out of here."

His voice was even softer now. You'd stopped crying and sniffled, rubbing your face as you nodded, allowing him to put his large hands on your back and move you towards him. Simon placed you between his legs, your body and head resting on his body as he held you close, and whispered, "I got you," over and over again.

Your body was still trembling, but it soon subsided the longer you were in in embrace. People started coming in the store but were shooed away by Simon's glares until a police officer eventually arrived to process the scene.

Simon kept you in his arms, remaining on the floor for as long as possible until the officers needed to take your statement and the EMTs needed to give you a look over.

Even then, he didn't leave your side. He didn't want to. He never wanted you to be alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List

@ateliefloresdaprimavera @galagcica @sweetybuzz25 @wisedinosaurpolice @itsasecrets-things @ronbon @lieutenantlashfaz @piper570 @shuttlelauncher81 @thanksbutno98 @gabriellathegreat @kult6 @loadedberetta @sarahs-secrets2

[crypticjackal13]

Can I request Yin and Jin crushing super hard on Shy!Younger sister of Mk, they're both trying constantly to get her attention and win her over, and the gang is not happy about it (especially Mk)

Assistant Demon: What are doing, you oafs?

Yin and Jin: She's pretty~

Assistant Demon: And you're ugly now get back to work

Lol thank you for this, also it turned out way longer than I thought it would

Yin & Jin x MK's Shy Younger Sister Reader Headcanons!

stupid lovesick fools --is how the assistant demon describes these two when she first finds out about their crushes on you. she is the backbone of their group and she does not understand why they can't JUST FOCUS ON TRYING TO WREAK SOME CHAOS

I imagine they came across you on accident. you were just there with Mei and MK, probably getting some food and TRYING to have a chill day with your bro, but then they came along like "HAHA FIGHT US MONKIE KID--oh hello who's this??" and they instantly tried to poke their noses into your business.

obviously MK whooped their asses for even going near you(he is very protective of you dammit)

Mei is also upset(bc if MK gets upset so does she) and she will whoop their asses too

The assistant demon shows up to collect the boys and instead of the two of them being upset they lost as usual they're instead........rambling and gushing about this cute girl they saw??? she doesn't understand.

Yin and Jin become a real thorn in MK's side for the next few WEEKS because they've learned where he is, you aren't far behind

you're freaking out bc why are these demons so interested in you?? but they're like being super obvious about their crushes--they ABSOLUTELY sat outside your house with a boombox and some flowers and "whatever else human girls are into these days"

Pigsy and MK scared them off because it was 3 in the morning

eventually the two of them caught you alone, and very quickly tried to explain why they were there--trying to make it brief just in case MK might be lurking somewhere

they're very sweet about it, they politely ask you out, and you do your best to explain to MK and Pigsy and Tang that you've simply caught the boys' fancy and you're gonna go on a date with them to give them a chance!!

everything goes smoothly(about as smoothly as it can with those two), but expect to see three poorly-disguised men following along at a distance. it's just MK, Mei, and Pigsy in trenchcoats, sunglasses, hats, and fake moustaches--don't be alarmed

.....yeah, it's gonna be a little awkward having Yin and Jin over for dinner

[bivwifeybunny]

I here by request Foolish fluff that can allude to smut!

Maybe reader has a headache and Foolish ends stream early to comfort her and she starts feeling better and then things lead into the bedroom..

(Also may I have permission to write the smut part? Like you put out the fluff and then I give the part 2 that’s smut 👀)

My Special Girl

Pairing(s): Foolish x reader

Warning(s): Cursing, alluded smut (actual smut in the part 2 hehehe 🤭), mostly just fluff tho

A/N: RAHHH I'm finally posting a fic after.... uhhh idk but a LONG time. haha... yeah sorry about that. but HEY it's a foolish fic and that's something new. shrimpy here convinced me to start writing for him (it wasn't hard since i cant say no to shrimpy lmao) but yeah, this is a little collab I did with her. so as said in the ask, she wrote part 2 with the actual smut. I loved writing this and working with her honestly. she helped with a couple questions I had and was really patient with me (i took 11 days to finish this lol rip) so would def do again. also my first collab? im so excited for y'all to read this. anyways this is getting long, enjoy and the link for part two is at the end.

You already felt it coming on. The tension building behind your eyes and the strain forming at your temples. But you’d be cruel to deny him when he looked at you with that cute pout. So you walked off, popped an ibuprofen and came back, sitting next to him as you watched him play some Minecraft.

However, the ibuprofen was definitely not enough. Thanks to his bright ass lights, the less than cozy screaming and yelling, and the eye strain from staring at the monitors, your headache began to worsen.

“I thought Minecraft was supposed to be a relaxing game.” You groaned, eyes squinted as you struggled to keep up with the pvp he was doing.

“Maybe it could be, if Richarlyson wasn’t being such a little bITCH!” Foolish screamed, resulting in another wince from you. His fingers darted around, clicking away as he chased after the little pixelated egg.

And then came the barking.

The back and forth, screaming, barking, with the added touch of his way too bright lights and the blue light from the monitors made you groan again. You leaned your head down, your hand covering your eyes, trying to find some relief. He was so excited to show you his progress on the titan, and you promised you’d at least stay long enough to see it, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could take this.

Luckily though, most of the screaming and barking stopped when Richas made a strategic retreat and teleported away. So you were able to look back at the monitor when he called your name.

“Okay, finally. Alright, alright, look.” Foolish grinned as he warped over to his titan build and began to glide over to it. “Now, I’m obviously not completely done but I’m so close, and I only really have- No, no, nO, NO!” He whined as a creeper dropped down next to him and exploded, ruining a part of the hand.

And unfortunately for you, that note struck the wrong cord and the pounding in your head grew past your limit. “Foolish, I’m gonna go lay down, okay?” You whispered, not only because of the throbbing in your head but also so his chat wouldn’t hear. You hurried off screen, heading back into his bedroom and crawling into bed after ensuring all the lights were off. You tossed the blankets over your head and buried your face into the cool pillow, hoping it’d ease the pain.

Meanwhile, as soon as you left, the doozers were all spamming things like “what happened to ___?”, “i dont think they were feeling well”, “they had their head down earlier”, “are they okay?” and so on.

Foolish, however, didn’t even glance at chat as he hurried off of Minecraft. “I think I’m gonna call it a day, guys. Sorry this was a shorter stream than usual.” He apologized for his 3 hour stream before quickly ending.

As soon as he was sure he ended, he rushed over to his room. He frowned at the dark room and the faint outline of your body curled up under the blankets. “Baby?” He called out quietly, climbing onto the bed next to you. He leaned over, propped up on his elbow and gently drew back the blankets. “What’s wrong?”

“Head hurts.” You muttered, eyes still shut tightly, jaw clenched.

“Aw, I’m sorry, honey.” He whispered softly, turning you to face him before rubbing his thumbs over your eyebrows, a silent instruction to relax from your tense position. “Should’ve told me. I wouldn’t have asked you to come on stream if I’d known you weren’t feeling good. Did you take anything to help it?”

“Just ibuprofen but’s not working.” You answered, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh, making him smile.

“Well, here. Why don't we try a bit of this?” Foolish mumbled, pulling you on top of him. “Where does it hurt?” He asked, to which you muttered, “My temples ‘nd behind my eyes,” snuggling into his warmth. He nodded, moving his hands to your head and beginning to massage your temples gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You sighed in relief, relaxing your stiff position even more as he rubbed away all the tension, humming in a soothing, soft tone. You stayed like that for a while, letting Foolish work his magic while you cuddled him close.

After a little while he kissed your head again and moved his hands away, hugging you instead. “Feel any better?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He smiled softly. “And I hope you know I’m going to absolutely clowned on by chat tomorrow and it’s all your fault.” He teased with a playful smirk.

“I say it’s worth it. They already get to spend way too much time with you as is. It’s about time I stole you away from them for a little while.” You laughed, lifting your head to look up at him before smirking. “But if you really want me to make it up to you, I have an idea in mind I’m sure you’d like.”

“Oh ho ho ho.” Foolish giggled excitedly, meeting you halfway when you leaned up to kiss him. “Don’t mind if I do…” He smirked into the kiss, flipping you over. “But since my baby was hurting, why don’t you let me take care of you?”

Part 2 :D by @mentallyillcrustacean

Taglist: @jordyncandy @foxilia @lacunaanonymoused @remiwastaken

Foolish taglist: none yet :)

[baddiecarl]

Streamer! Carl Grimes x Streamer! reader

Like Chandler Riggs, Carl Grimes in a normal world would also totally be a streamer. Here’s a peek into what it might be like to be his streamer crush!  (Also I’m pushing a slight resident evil agenda in this, I grew up watching my dad and brother play them and waited with bated breath to actually be able to play them myself!  It’s my favorite video game series of all time if you can’t tell lol)

For maximum enjoyment, please watch the clip I put right under this because I referenced it in this story!

  “Do I know who (your screen name) is?”  Carl says, reading his chat.  “No, I’ve never heard of them, gimme a second.”  He picks his phone up off his desk and types the name into google, coming up with endless pictures of you playing video games, doing cooking and baking streams, making art, reacting to the memes people made for you, all the things your streams are widely loved for.  Realizing he was quiet for longer than he probably should’ve been, he speaks up. “Oh yeah I’ve seen her before, she does awesome resident evil speedruns! I didn’t recognize the name at first, but yeah, I know who she is!”  

“Omg he’s blushing!”

“Is bro blushing rn?”

“Looks like no one’s immune to the charms of (y/s/n) lmfao”

  The teasing comments poured in while Carl did his best to play it cool and laugh them off, “yeah she’s pretty cute,” he admits through a soft smile as he focuses on the game he was streaming before he looked you up.  Teasing chats trickled in every once in a while, but for the most part, the topic was changed completely and by the time the stream was over he had almost forgotten about the situation entirely. 

  Little did he know that the next day your viewers would also ask you if you knew Carl.  Having been a streamer for quite some time you’ve seen a lot of clips of other streamers and you immediately recognized the name Carl.  “Oh my god, is that the dude who sucks at fall guys?”  You joked as you pulled up the clip of him failing epically at fall guys. “If you get eliminated at this part then you don’t deserve a single win,” he said, seconds before getting eliminated on the exact part he was referring to.  “He’s fucking hilarious,” you remarked as you smiled while you watched the video.  Well, that didn’t go unnoticed by any of your viewers either.

“She’s straight up giggling and kicking her feet lol”

“He called you cute on his stream yesterday”

“He called you cute on his stream yesterday”

  Man, did your fans come in clutch or what?  Returning to your game, you saved that bit of information for later, knowing that it probably got clipped and posted by now.  After you finished up your game and ended the stream you finally got to look up the clip.  You couldn’t help but laugh while you watched him read the comments and grow more and more red with each one that came in.  “Yeah, she’s pretty cute.”  THERE IT IS! HE ACTUALLY SAID IT!!  This was all you needed to want to reach out. 

  A couple of days later, Carl was streaming again as usual when he felt his phone vibrate.  A DM from…(y/s/n)??  Holy shit, okay, play it cool.  He tried to hide his shock and excitement as he opened the message but still, a goofy smile crept onto his face while he read it.  

“Hey, Carl!  It’s come to my attention that we have quite a bit of an overlapping fanbase so I thought it’d be a great idea to play a game together sometime!  Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to play fall guys ;)”

  By the time he was done reading your message, the grin had broken out into a full-blown smile and he hid his nervous and excited laughing behind his hand.  To no avail, his viewers saw this immediately and began teasing him, asking if (y/s/n) was making him blush again.  “No guys, that’s not it, don’t worry about it,” he said, still trying to hide his bashfulness.  Yet, again clocked by his fans, they knew he was lying.  But they weren't the only ones who knew he wasn't telling the truth, because you had joined the stream just before you sent your message.  You wanted to see him blush just by the sheer mention of you one more time, so you arranged to send it while he was streaming.  You were overjoyed to see him pick up his phone, and judging by his reaction you knew he had to have read it. 

He’s quiet for a minute while he types on his phone and you watch the text bubble pop up on your phone.

“I’ve noticed the same thing haha! I think that’d be awesome, but for the record, we will be playing fall guys so I can prove I’m not ‘the guy who sucks at fall guys’”

  You grinned at his message, not failing to see the humor in the fact that he did the exact thing you did, looking up the clip from your stream where the chat had brought him up.  You respond to his message simply and sweetly.

 “Fair enough! I get to pick the game we play next time we do it then!” 

“Sounds like a deal!”  Carl replies, his heart skipping a beat at the implication of you wanting to do a stream with him more than once.  Carl’s voice coming from your computer removes your attention from your phone. “Alright sorry about the pause there guys, I had a very important message to respond to,”  he says, refocusing on his game all while he's still being teased for his very obvious change in behavior since his phone buzzed.  Giggling at him regarding your message as very important, you sat back and watched him play his game, cracking up at the jokes he made.  After he wraps up his stream, you’re left sitting at your computer, alone with your thoughts and they’re all about Carl.  

  About three minutes into zoning out, you're startled by the buzzing of your phone.  You unlock your phone to see another DM from Carl. 

“Do you think I could have your discord or maybe your phone number if you don't have that? I just thought it might be easier to communicate that way if we’re going to be doing streams together.”  How does his nervous dorky voice translate so well through text?  It’s almost like you could hear him stammering over asking for your phone number.  Doing your best to reassure him, you reply: “I do have discord! But you can have my number too!  It’s ***-***-****!”

“Thanks (y/n), I’m really excited about collabing with you!  I was kinda shocked to see that you messaged me, even though I’m pretty sure this was orchestrated by our followers lol”

What can you say?  Your followers really do come in clutch!

Me again! I hope you guys like this while you wait on the next part of Carl Grimes x Dhampir! reader! Also I hope you enjoyed that clip of Chandler sucking at fall guys, I really wanted to include that in this fic lol