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wweshmutznstuff · 21 hours ago

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Off In 10

Billy Hargrove x Byers!fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: illusions to smut, serious making out lmao, angry hopper and joyce being awkward mom for a second

Author’s Note: writing for billy revives me EVERY time. That mf. I love and miss him so dearly

Requested: by anon, Heyyy gurl, long time no see! Fr I missed your blog. can I please request a scene where Billy Hargrove and the Byers!reader are making out in his car at night in the middle of nowhere, Hopper finds them, gets pissed and drives the reader back home to Joyce? Thank you so muchhh

Summary: the request!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Billy’s lips were addicting. Lots of girls in Hawkins could concur with that statement. He had kissed a whole bunch of them. But he would be lying if he said yours weren’t his favorite. He wasn’t sure if it was because you were Jonathan Byers older sister (by only a year). It also could just be the way your hair felt between his fingers, or the way you smiled when he showed up like you really truly wanted to see him.

You knew you should just go into the pool but it was so easier to have access to Billy’s face when you were in his car. Sometimes you were convinced he had bought the car and immediately adjusted the seats so they were leaning back a bit, perfect angle for kissing. He could take your breath away with his lips. You found yourself smiling into the kiss, half giggling at how happy he made you.

“Hmm?” he grunted in question.

“I just really like kissing you,” you whispered, lips touching as you spoke. “It’s such a nice pass time.”

“More than a pass time,” he promised, leaving you chaste kisses between his words.

“You’re right,” you said, voice breathless. Billy had to go into work and you had to take his car back to his house to get Max. You were the only person he trusted with the keys.

Jim Hopper was dropping El and Will off at the pool. He was kind of annoyed that he had to do it but Joyce was busy back home and he wasn’t going to push. Plus, he was just happy it was Will she was hanging out with and not Mike. She could use a bit of fun that didn’t involve that piece of shit. Hopper pulled up beside Billy’s car and unlocked the doors.

“Watch El,” Hopper said to Will as he slid out of the car. Will rolled his eyes.

“She can watch herself.”

“The pool is deep,” he argued.

“I’m tall,” Eleven promised.

It was Will who saw you. He was the only out of the three that could notice you by the back of your head. Also you were wearing one of your favorite shirts and he knew it by heart. You were leaning over the middle counsel and your tongue was very much down Billy Hargrove’s throat.

“What?” Hopper asked when he noted Will was pausing by the backdoor. Hopper leaned over the driver seat right when you were pulling away from Billy to breathe.

And then Jim Hopper saw red.

Billy fuckin Hargrove. Billy fucking Hargrove.

He jumped out of his car, trying to breathe deeply, pretty much failing. Will quickly shuffled aside beside El who was standing at the front of Hopper’s truck. Hopper knocked harshly on the passenger window. You jumped, Billy’s hand sliding out from under your shirt which just made the situation much worse.

Your eyes went wide when you saw Hopper.

“Shit,” you breathed.

Your time of hiding Billy was over.

“Get out of the car,” Hopper said but you could only see his lips moving angrily. You turned to Billy.

“Run. Go. Run inside. Use Will as cover.” You opened up the passenger door but Billy stayed put, never one to listen to what he was told.

“Hey Hop.”

“Don’t ‘hey Hop’ me,” he said, teeth gritted. “You were swapping spit with Billy fucking Hargrove. Now is not the time to ‘hey Hop’ me.” You knew this day would come eventually. Billy got out of the car, throwing his arm on the top of his car.

“Hey Sheriff.”

Hopper stared at Billy like he could kill him with his eyes. He was clenching his fists, holding himself together solely because he was the sheriff and he couldn’t beat a teenager to a pulp.

“Get in the car,” Hopper said.

“Hopper-”

“Get. In. The. Car.” You glanced back at Billy who gave you a look of sympathy.

“I’ll be back to get Max,” you said. He nodded, eyes hard as he sized up Hopper as though he was gonna fight him.

“Love you,” Billy called, just for added effect. You winced at Hopper’s face.

“Love you too.”

You got in the passenger seat quietly. You stayed quiet even as Hopper got in the driver's seat, when he turned the car on and when he pulled out of the parking lot. It wasn’t for about 10 minutes did you realize he was taking you back home. He finally spoke.

“You've always been a smart girl,” he said quietly. “So God please tell me…why you were just in Billy Hargrove’s car.”

“Because he’s my boyfriend.” Silence. Angry, tension filled silence.

He pulled up to your car and got out, you followed close behind him. Your mom, Joyce, was standing at the kitchen table.

“Jonathan?” she called.

“Nope,” Hopper said. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. Joyce leaned back to see the two of you walking inside.

“Y/N? I thought you were picking up Max and taking her to the arcade with Lucas.”

“I was,” you admitted.

“No. She was making out with Billy Hargrove.” Joyce raised her eyebrows.

“The same Billy Hargrove that broke my plates?” she questioned.

“There was a lot going on. That could’ve been Steve.”

“Steve is a gentleman,” Hopper said. “Steve wouldn't have broken your mothers good plates.”

“Listen, I was going to tell you. Hopper’s overreacting.” Joyce was making dinner. She put down the spoon she was using to stir a pot and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms.

“Do we need to have a talk?” she asked quietly.

“No. That’s okay. Thanks though mom.”

“Are you sure? You really need to be safe,” Joyce said. You shook your head, every single night with Billy flashing in front of your eyes.

“I’m being safe, I promise. I’m very safe.”

“You’re sleeping with him?!” Hopper asked, voice loud. You closed your eyes, breathing harshly out of your nose.

“That’s typically what boyfriends and girlfriends do, Sheriff.”

“El is never getting older. I need to go kill Mike Wheeler,” Hopper muttered, turning around. He ran his hand through his hair. You looked at your mom who seemed to be processing.

“I really do have to pick up Max. If that’s okay…”

“We really should talk about this more.”

“No…we really shouldn’t. Trust me, I love Billy. Billy loves me. He’s a great boyfriend.”

“Does he hurt you?”

“No. No he’s never hurt me. You let Nancy sleep over here, just let me see Billy during the day and we’ll be set.” Joyce pursed her lips, sighing gently.

“Do you need any condoms?”

“Mom!”

You got Hopper to drive you back to the pool, begrudgingly. You were an adult, you weren’t El. He couldn’t stop you from seeing your boyfriend when you wanted.

“Thanks Hop,” you said, getting out of his car. He stared in front of him, trying to see through the gates. You started to shut the door but he spoke.

“If he ever does anything bad…you call me okay? Anytime. Anywhere.” You nodded.

“Thank you Hopper. I will.”

You shut the door gently and walked toward the gates. El and Will were still hanging around, chatting, tanning. Billy was on top of the lifeguard seat. When he saw you he took off his glasses. You looked up at him and he leaned down a bit.

“Hey, if I jump in can I get you to pull me back out?” you called.

“Only if I get to put my hands wherever I want,” he purred. “I see you survived.”

“I did. Though watch your back. Sheriff Hopper might be following you for a week or two.” He smiled and tossed you his sunglasses.

“Put on your swimsuit so I have some real entertainment out here.”

“What, the group of moms isn’t enough for you?” you questioned, putting your hand on his chair.

“I never did get to finish what we started earlier you know.” You raised an eyebrow. “Put your swimsuit on. I’m off in 10.”

“Yes sir.”

Stranger Things Tag List: @dpaccione @elisaa-shelby @purple-flamingo @trinswhimsys @valentina-luvs-u @demigirl-with-problems @chaotic-fangirl-blog @mads-weasley @alexxavicry @secret-obsessions-21-blog @mystic-writings @plumes-de-nuit @linkxneptune

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wweshmutznstuff · 21 hours ago

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The Wrong Woman

I’m pretty much Jay Briscoe Smut trash at this point. I’m writing this for myself as much as for anyone else tbh. I have some other Jay ideas, but I don’t want to bombard you guys. I’ll try to space them out better. I just love this damn man. lol

Jay’s your boyfriend and finds another guy bothering you outside a venue. Slight trigger warning just because the guy is trying to force himself onto her but nothing graphic.

Keep reading

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wweshmutznstuff · 22 hours ago

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injury

AN: this was supposed to be Vincent x reader, but I guess you can read it as all brothers x reader. also i apologize if this isn't good, i'm currently trying to write a real fic, and it's kind of difficult. i'm praying to the writing-gods though.

Warnings: description of an injury, mention of needles and syringes

The front door flies open with an audible 'bang' as the long-haired artist carries you inside the residence. Behind him trail his brothers, in your peripheral you see Bo’s tense jaw as he tucks his gun away.

Vincent’s boots loudly trudge through the living room. Shortly after he sets you down on the billiard table. Thinking he’s going to leave, you weakly extend a hand, trying to find stability, but he stays. One arm keeps tightly securing your torso, the other sweeps old newspaper off the dusty surface. His movements are fast, he’s hurrying, you think.

Soon, you're laying on your back on the green cloth, the frame of the table pressed painfully into the muscles of your neck. Then he leaves anyway. His heavy boots stomp down the hallway before you can protest. His brothers stay, though.

Bo looks tense, you notice as he appears in your vision and Lester’s forehead is wrinkled in worry.

“Sorry for bleeding all over the table-”, you cringe at your own, faint voice.

“Don’t worry about that now.”, Lester tries to give you a reassuring smile, but the crease in his forehead doesn’t fade and neither does the shake in his voice, “Vincent’ll patch you up.”

Speaking of the devil, his steps come closer again, faster this time. Then he’s next to you, carrying the first aid box from the bathroom. It’s all banged up ever since Bo punched it off the wall during one of his meltdowns. The memory makes you want to laugh, but even breathing hurts now.

Subconsciously, you can hear Bo’s belt buckle click open. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, but before you can attempt to ask anything, there’s the sensation of something leathery against your lips.

“Open up.”, Bo sounds sterner than you’d like, but you comply, biting down on the leather as hard as you can. You know what happens now.

A syringe appears in Vincent’s hand and suddenly cold fear fills your heart. The belt falls out of your lips as your mouth opens.

Memories flood your brain, pictures of helpless victims, twitching as Vincent injected his own little poison into their blood, rendering them helpless.

You don’t think he’s trying to poison you but the idea of a syringe in his hands is enough to make your breath shorten in panic. Meekly, you try to get away from its iron tip and raise your hand to push him away.

“Please, Vincent-”, even to yourself your voice sounds strained and near silent. “Without.”, you manage to croak out, finding his eye behind the waxen mask, pleading.

It takes a rough second of silent praying but, finally, he nods, and puts it to the side. In the meanwhile, Lester pushes the piece of leather back in between your teeth and Bo grabs your arms, pinning them to the table.

“This is gonna hurt, sweetheart, you know that.”, ‘is that warmth in Bo’s eyes?’, you think, “Try to keep still, I know you can do it.”

A weak nod is all you can muster up as a reply, questioning if Bo's faith in you is justified.

You feel Vincent’s hand pulling your leg towards him, and then there’s something cold touching your ankle. You nearly jerk back out of reflex, but his grip is strong.

Sharp blades cut the fabric away from your leg, inch for inch until he reaches the tear in your flesh, oozing crimson. You sense he’s trying to hurry without hurting you, and you wish you could tell him that the pain is already fading into a numb, hot throbbing.

In your confused, half-conscious state, you barely register the cap of a bottle opening before you feel it. Scorching hot liquid, burning into your flesh.

Tears dwell in your eyes as your muffled scream echoes through the room. Your head lifts off the edge of the billiard table, trying to get away, but then Lester’s beside you, gently pressing it back down.

“Already halfway done,”, he whispers, voice laced with shared agony, “You’re doing so well.”

Whimpering, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand on your forehead as Vincent dabs the disinfectant and already-crusted blood away. His other hand squeezes your thigh lovingly as if to comfort you.

His hands are gone for a quick moment, and you mentally prepare for the needle. This isn’t the first time Vincent has stitched you up, but this is the first really life-threatening wound you’ve acquired in all your time in Ambrose. You take a hazy mental note to buy disinfectant without alcohol if you survive this.

Vincent's hands return to your thighs. You bite down on the leather as the needle pierces your skin, pulling the thread through the hole. Grunts turn into weak sobs as he continues swiftly, leaving you with no time to process the pain flaring in your leg.

“Shh…”, Bo’s voice is surprisingly tender, “It’s over soon, darling, I promise.”

His thumb rubs circles into the inside of your arms, but the pain is far too intense for you to notice his soft touches.

It feels like an eternity until Vincent sets the needle down, and you nearly start sobbing all over again when he finally does. This time out of relief.

The ceiling moves as Bo lets go of your arms, and you suddenly feel unsupported, like you’re going to fall over any second. Someone takes the belt out of your mouth, it clatters as it hits the tiles somewhere behind you. A wet sensation hits your freshly stitched-up skin.

Vincent is more careful with the bandaging, testing its tightness before he ties the ends together, so it won’t bother you. You’re scared he'll leave, but fortunately, your concerns stay unverified.

Soft hands find your shoulders again as he’s done with his work, carefully raising your torso off the bloody table. Legs still supported on the edge of the furniture, he adjusts your head, leaning it against his chest, before he lifts you for good, trying to be as gentle as possible. Even in your current situation, his consideration for you warms your heart.

You attempt to catch a glimpse of the table before he walks away but all you pick up is a mess of red, blotched over the remains of your jeans as Lester puts Vincent’s utensils away.

Then the artist turns around and all you register anymore is his heartbeat next to your ear as he carries you away.

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wweshmutznstuff · 2 days ago

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The wrong groom II

Pairing: Ivar the boneless x female reader

Word count: ~ 2.700

Warnings: Animal sacrifice, the family abandon the reader

The words of King Ragnar still echo in your ears, an unknown joy rises in you when you realize that your request has been heard and that you would soon be the wife of Prince Ivar. However, this feeling of happiness is short-lived, a glance at your father shows you that he appears to be anything but happy about your decision. He sits on his throne, a frown lingering on his face, fingers digging deeply into the uneven wood of the armrests, while the corners of his mouth twitch suspiciously. The coldness in his voice makes you wince as he addresses the word to King Ragnar.

“I wish to speak with my daughter in private.”

Not a single emotion can be read on his face as he fixes you with his gaze, yet the tone of his voice tells you all you need to know. He is angry. Incredibly angry.

“As you wish. In the meantime, I will seek out my sons to inform them of the changes.”

Keep reading

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wweshmutznstuff · 2 days ago

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Their friend is pregnant, pt. 2.

↳ Pairing. Hvitserk The Berserker, Sigurd Snake in The Eye, Ivar The Boneless.

↳ Summary. How would they react to their dear friend being pregnant. [I imagine this with them having the same kind of friendship that Ragnar had with Athelstan but with the reader].

↳ Warnings. Violence, death, abusive relationships, smut/mention of sex.

↳ Note. A second part so I could write the ones that are left because is just so much fun to write this plot.

Part one.

Hvitserk The Berserker.

He adores you, he genuinely thinks you’re the only perfect person on earth and he would do anything to protect you from anybody, even himself.

He is busy between a thrall’s legs, making everything in his power to make her scream his name, thrusting like a madman when he hears his name being called and he stops right away. That’s not the thrall’s voice.

“Hvitserk,” You sob and he can’t help but to pull out and push the woman, running to you while fixing his pants.

“Come here, come here,” He mumbles, taking you in his arms and walking to another room that doesn’t smell like sex.

He sits on the floor in front of a bonfire with you on his lap, and you move around till your legs are around him just like he is around you. You move again and he grunts.

“D-Don’t move too much,” He whispers.

“O-Oh! I’m sorry, forgive—,” You try to move but he grips your thighs. “Hvitserk.”

“Forget everything else and tell me why are you crying,” He says. “Talk to me.”

“Why do I have to talk to you while your cock is poking into my backside?” You ask him and he grunts again, this time because of your stubbornness.

“That is because I got interrupted while I was getting it down, now, talk to me or I am going to take my axe and go look for the information myself.” He threatens.

You sigh and clean your face a little before looking at him.

“I am with child.”

“That’s not true,” He chuckles and panics when your eyes start to fill with tears, and he takes your face in his hands. “Wait— no, no, no sweat heart.”

“Y-You don’t believe me either,” You sob in his hands and he shakes his head.

“I thought it was another one of your pranks, I apologize little one,” You nod, sobbing. He frowns. “Either?”

“He kicked me out of the house… literally,” You whisper, rolling your dress to show him your scratched knees, you show him your hands and they’re scratched too. “He said I cheated on him, that a whore like me could find a man to breed me really fast just so I could trap—,”

You stop talking when Hvitserk moves you around, standing up and taking you with him. He puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the room and back to his room. In silence he takes off your dirty dress and tosses it to the side, he looks around for a moment and comes back with a shirt of him, he helps you put it on.

“I’m going to be right back, get under the covers,” He quietly says, you shake your head, and he sighs. “Under the covers, please.”

“You’re going to kill him.” You whisper.

“Of course, I’m going to kill him, for starters, I gave you that house, he has no right to kick you out, and second, while you’re with child?” He snorts with malice.

“Hvitserk,” He looks at you and holds your stare to let you know that he is not backing down. You nod to yourself and kiss his cheek. “I’ll wait for you awake.”

You know he is back when some thralls enter the room with the tub, he enters right behind them and you gasp, he is bathed in blood, from the hair to his boots.

“What in Odin’s green earth did you do to him?!” You ask alarmed, he shrugs and starts to take his clothes off in front of you and the thralls. “Hvitserk!”

“I tied him to a tree and started beating him,” He looks up slowly, his eyes cold. “I beat him till his last breath.”

“You’re insane,” You whisper, getting out of bed when he gets inside the tub. You start to undo his braids.

“For you, I can be worse than Ivar, you know this already.” He chants, not a single trace of regret on his face.

“Yeah well, you killed the abusive father of my child,” You roll your eyes. “So it’s safe to say that you’re now a father.”

He smirks.

“Great.”

Sigurd Snake In The Eye.

Everybody could see how much you mean to him, it was as obvious as the fact that the sun would shine every day. When it comes to you he knows no reason or shame, going as far as to beg if he needs to.

“I-I can’t find her,” He murmurs when all his brothers are gathered to hunt.

“Who?” Ubbe asks.

“What do you mean you can’t find her? It’s almost as if you live together,” Hvitserk jokes.

“I think her husband has something to do with her suddenly disappearing.” He swallows and just now everybody feels the tension in the air. “I-I need help, please.”

Suddenly Ivar starts crawling away and everybody looks at him, he stops and looks back directly at Sigurd.

“What are you doing there? We have to find her.” He grunts and in no time Sigurd is by his side.

That’s how much you mean to Sigurd, so much that even his younger brother whom he always argues about anything not dare to joke around.

And he finds you, in a small cabin deep in the woods, thanks to Hvitserk’s insight in the town he founds that your husband owns this cabin for when he goes hunting alone.

He enters the cabin and sucks a breath when he sees you in a corner hugging your legs. He takes one step and your husband comes out and pulls you by the hair, you yelp.

“If you get close I will kill them both!” He screams and Sigurd frown.

“Who’s them?” He whispers to himself, and you sob.

“You didn’t tell him? You’re carrying his child and you didn’t—,”

“Because it’s not his!” You cry, looking at Sigurd and his stare makes you stop trembling a little. You’re safe, Sigurd is here.

Suddenly an arrow enters from behind Sigurd, right on top of his head, and embedded right onto your husband’s head, him being so tall makes it easy for the archer to shoot without fearing it would hit you.

Sigurd looks behind him and nods to Ubbe, who just nods back and starts walking back with his brother, leaving him with you.

He opens his arms and watches how you run and jump on him, his arms sliding around you, one on your thigh and the other on your waist.

“I’m here now, shh…” He comforts you while walking till he leans on a wall. “Nobody can’t hurt you anymore.”

You sob on his neck and he hums.

“I’m tired,” You murmur and he nods.

He takes you back to the town and directly into his room and orders the thralls to prepare a bath for you. When everything’s ready he undresses you and lets you get inside the tub, he’s about to start looking for clothes for you but your grip on his hand stops him.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m getting in with you,” He says to calm you down and when he sees you expectant he undresses and gets inside too, behind you.

He starts to caress your belly, he supposed you haven’t seen your monthly blood and that’s why you know you’re with child since it’s not clear in your belly.

“You’re going to start living here,” He whispers in your ear. “So I can take care of you better.”

“You have obligations,” You whisper.

“And you’re the main one,” He hums. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

Ivar The Boneless.

Nobody understands how you can stand Ivar, with the man being borderline obsessed with you. The only reason why you can lay with men is that he is certain that he can’t satisfy a woman and he would rather be burned alive than disappoint you from all people, but other than that, he lets no man get close to you unless you directly tell him that you chose that man to warm your chambers, he has bodyguards for you, thralls for you, he gives you a quarter of everything he owns or gets. Even when he goes raiding everybody knows that a lot of the goods are yours and yours only. That’s how obsessed Ivar The Boneless is with you.

Of course, it’s almost impossible to hide things from him, more so with the people in town being so eager to bring him information about you just to be favored, so as soon as you’re being yelled at and tossed around by the Viking Ivar is notified.

“You think after three times you can already be with child?! Do you think I’m stupid?!” The man was yelling at you, but you weren’t backing down. No sir.

“After ONE time of laying together, I can already be with child, or do you think your seed is so weak you need more than once? even more than three? Poor you.” You mock and gasp when he pushes you, making you fall onto your backside, you whimper at the burn in your hands for breaking the fall.

“I should just kill you and that bastard right now!” He yells, and you spit on your side in response.

“Who?” You freeze, feeling chills run down your spine. That voice only means problems, and a lot of them. “Who are you going to kill? My woman?”

You feel him right beside you, leaning on his crutch. He looks down at you and nods and you nod back, slowly standing up.

“L-Lord I-Ivar,” The man stuttered.

“So? You’re going to kill my woman, you say?” Ivar says, his tone friendly but his eyes, oh those eyes.

“N-no, no my lord,” The man keeps stuttering. “It’s this woman who says she’s carrying my child.”

Ivar face snaps to the side, looking at you while anger starts to bubble in his system, a burning feeling in his chest, he squints his eyes at you and silently you start to pray to the gods for the life of the man.

“When I was hunting and you were keeping me company, that was your last month bleeding, right?” Ivar says and he’s not actually asking, he knows that information, for he’s the one you always go to when you’re in pain, but you nod anyways. “And he pushed you while you’re carrying a child?”

You nod again.

“Yes, Ivar.” The man grimaces when he hears you call Ivar by his name and without honorifics, why nobody told him he was laying with someone so important? “He did.”

Ivar’s face slowly turns to the man, and he grins.

“Now I have to decide whether you die—,”

“Ivar can I—,” You start but are interrupted.

“NO!” He snaps, pointing at you with his finger. “You do not get to save him from this, you do not get a saying this time!”

“Ivar,” Your own anger makes you grind your teeth. “Can I go home? My feet are hurting and I need to get a healer for my hands.”

He blinks and looks down at your bloody hands from the fall before, he sighs, feeling bad at the way he talked to you when you weren’t even trying to help the man.

“I’ll finish this quickly,” Ivar says and in the blink of an eye, the man is being dragged by Ivar’s men while crying and babbling apologies.

You don’t let Ivar say anything more and start walking home and when you get there you ask for a healer and after being done with your hands and a quick checkup on your overall health you ask for a hot bath.

“It’s ready, my lady,” The thrall says just in time for Ivar’s entrance, she gasps and starts to tremble.

“You can go now, don’t come back again, you may take the tub out tomorrow,” You whisper tiredly.

Ivar is covered in blood and even you get a chill run down your spine. It looks grotesque, never has he had so much blood on him from just one person, he looks demonic even.

“I’m—,” He starts but you lift your hand.

“I honestly don’t want to hear it,” You murmur, starting to get undressed.

He looks at you with attention, watching you moan when the hot water gets in contact with your skin.

“I’m sorry.” He finishes what he was saying earlier and you roll your eyes.

“I’m with child, I got pushed by the father of the child and then he got killed by you and I imagine it was in the most animalistic way you could think of,” You tell him coldly. “I’m tired, I didn’t need you snapping at me when I was the one being mistreated, you may go now if that’s going to happen again.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he says, he looks emotionless, his voice too. But you know that those words coming out of Ivar’s mouth is already a blessing.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m not leaving.” He says, crawling more closer.

“You look scary.”

“I’ll get clean after you tell me how are you,” He whispers and you sigh.

“What am I going to do now?” You whisper to him, getting close to him.

“Nothing, you don’t need to do anything,” He whispers. “Just let me take care of you. Both of you.”

“You already do that,” You smile.

He smiles and leans, giving you a soft kiss although you could tell it doesn’t mean anything more.

“Yes I do, until the gods call me to Valhalla.”

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wweshmutznstuff · 2 days ago

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Their friend is pregnant.

↳ Pairing. Ragnar Lothbrok, Björn Ironside, Ubbe Ragnarsson.

↳ Summary. How would they react to their dear friend being pregnant.

↳ Warnings. Violence, death, abusive relationships.

↳ Note. I imagine this with them having the same kind of friendship that Ragnar had with Athelstan but with the reader. Let me know if y’all want me to make an individual part of any of these explaining further the dynamics.

Part two.

Ragnar Lothbrok.

He hasn’t seen you in several months and he starts to get worried because for one, you didn’t even come to the dock to greet him after another successful raid and two, you know damn well he doesn’t like to go for so long without talking to you when he is in Kattegat. He learns too much with you.

He knocks on your door one time before letting himself in like he owns it, and that he does of course. He’s the king.

“I just want to know why you haven’t even… oh,” He looks at you with wide eyes, looking down at the small round belly that has started to become prominent.

You look at him expressionless, your eyes filling with tears, he gets to you in two big steps and pulls you into his arms, one hand on the back of your neck and the other grabbing your arm so you can put it around his waist.

“My sweet dear friend, what’s the matter?” He murmurs and you sob.

“I missed you so much, o-oh for the love of Odin, my friend is here.” You cry on his chest.

“Of course I am, I’ll always come back to you,” He assures you.

You look up to him.

“I am with child,” You say and he snorts.

“I can very much see that,” He jokes but his smile vanishes when he sees the pain in your face.

“And he hates it, he hates it so much Ragnar,” You sob. “He said it’s not his child, he swears it’s yours.”

He laughs and walks with you under his arm to your bed, softly falling down and letting you get comfortable on his chest.

“I have to say, it does sounds appealing to bear a child with you,” You snort and sob softly. “But we have never had sex, for you rejected me when I asked you.”

“You wanted me to lay with you when we were camping and getting ready for a war back in the day, it wasn’t the time,” You roll your eyes. “He says my plan all along was to seduce you to become queen of—,”

“Does he even know that you’re the uncrowned queen of Kattegat?” He laughs. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll be the child’s father.”

“Why did I have the suspicion that you would say that when the time of me carrying a child come?” You ask with a small smile and he kisses your head.

“He can’t come near you anymore, he lost his chance.” He explains.

You close your eyes, forgetting everything that made you cry and remembering that Ragnar will always be there for you.

Björn Ironside.

He frowns when you rush into his tent in what seems desperation, he grabs your shoulders to stop you.

“Wow, wow, wow, stop right there,” He says, and when you look at him his whole face changes. “Who did this to you?”

You have a cut on your lip and your cheek is starting to get swollen from a hard slap.

“Björn—,”

“I am not going to ask a third time, Y/N, who did this to you?” He grunts.

“Knud,” You whisper and you step in front of him when he is about to start walking, looking him right in the eye. “Björn.”

“I am going to break his arms, move.” He grunts.

“Björn, I am with child.” You snap, smacking his chest softly so he can pay attention to you.

He looks at you surprised, blinking a few times before slowly sliding his hands all over your belly.

“That’s wonderful, little one.” He whispers and your bottom lip trembles. His face suddenly turns cold. “Which means it’s going to be worse for him.”

He walks around you and out of the tent in the blink of an eye, you sigh and sit down for a few seconds on his bed, your state making things such as standing very tiresome.

After some minutes you stand up and go out looking for your friend, finding him close to the woods with a crowd around him. When you get close you realize that the father of your child is tied up to a tree while Björn is shooting arrows at him, missing on purpose to get him more scared. The whispers of the others are what makes Björn look behind his back, he smiles at you.

“Come here, my sweet one.” He says with feigned happiness, you stand on his side, ignoring the man on the tree on purpose.

“Yes?”

“What do you want from him? His leg? An arm?” He asks you entertained.

“I—,”

“Y-Y/N, p-please! Forgive me! I-I didn’t mean t-to, it was the ale!” The man cries.

“You hurt her while she’s with child and you think ale is the perfect excuse to give me? me?” Björn asks with humor, raising his arms and shooting an arrow right on top of the man's knees, smiling when he screams in pain. “Try again.”

“F-Forgive me for saying that it is not my child, I-I know you haven’t laid with n-no one else, I misunderstood your relationship with lord Björn,” The man cries in pain, sobbing like a child, he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Y/N p-please.”

You look at Björn and give him an enigmatic smile that he understands all too well.

“My friend, I could use a liver, maybe a heart,” You tell him and he hums.

“All you have to do is ask,” He says, shooting right into the man’s heart, watching the life leave his body. “Like that?”

“Like that.” You snort.

Ubbe Ragnarsson.

He’s sure the gods put you in his life with a purpose, because the amount of love and happiness he feels when he’s around you cannot be normal.

He was walking around Kattegat with a smile, watching his people do their own thing and being proud of the stability that they have now thanks to a lot of his, his father and his brothers' sacrifices. He sees you and frowns when he takes in your expression, walking a little faster to get to you.

“That fucking child is not mine!” The man, whom he knows you tend to lay with from time to time, was shouting in your face. “Find the father of that child because it is not mine.”

“Well, last time I checked I am not the Christian Holy Mary to have a child from a god,” You snap at him. “Who else’s child would—?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the prince,” The man accuses you and you gasp, he starts to point his finger at you, every time touching your shoulder in an accusatory manner. “Why don’t you go and tell him that you’re with child, uhm? Since you’re so proud of being his main whore—,”

The man can’t continue his speech because he is interrupted by Ubbe yanking him from the back. Ubbe walks to him slowly, sighing to control his dark thoughts and straddling the man. He starts to calmy destroy the man’s face, smacking him with his open hand, punching him with his fist, with his own head. You crouch down beside him at a considerable space in order to not get punched by accident, with your hand under your chin, watching your prince make a mess out of the poor man that thought he could disrespect you and continue on his day like nothing happened.

“You think you’re too good to put a child on her? Don’t be stupid, you should be grateful that you even had the opportunity to be inside of her,” Ubbe grunts, watching the man’s face unrecognizable now.

He cleans his hands on the man’s shirt and stands up, walking to you and bending his knees a little to take you in his arms. You hum and slide your hands around his neck.

“I would’ve expected Ivar to lose control like that, even Hvitserk, but you?” You murmur into his ear and he chuckles.

“I’m Viking, love,” He says as if that explains the little number he just pulled.

When he enters the Great Hall he walks directly to a chair and sits with you sitting sideways on top of him, he caresses your back distractedly while playing with your hand with his other hand.

“I’m a little scared,” You confess and he looks at you. “It’s my first child, I’m not even married and he already made sure to let me know that he will not be—,”

“You don’t need nobody but me,” He says firmly, confidence emanating from his body. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ubbe, you have your own obligations with Kattegat,” You try to reason with him.

“And still, I’ll be here for you,” He whispers, pulling you to his chest and slowly sliding his hand onto your belly, you put your own on top of his. “Every step you take, I’m taking it with you, my dear friend.”

“I know you will,” You whisper and kiss the side of his head.

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wweshmutznstuff · 18 days ago

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Fight | Poly!Lost boys x GN!reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, reader gets touched by a rando, fighting, first time writing a fic for the Lost Boys.

Summary: An outsider thinks the reader is selling themselves to the Boys and thinks it’s okay to harass her, right in front of them!

–

Music blared through the boardwalk; the boys surrounded you, their human mate enjoying the show. Paul was dancing and laughing with Mark, David was smoking leaning against a railing eyeing the crowd for their dinner, and you were leaning against the chest of Dwayne. His hands rested on your hips as you moved to the music.

You couldn’t help but laugh watching your boys just be that your boys. Paul swaggered up to you, a big goofy grin on his face, and pressed a tongue and teeth-filled kiss against your lips. You laughed again as he pulled away mouthing the words to the song being sung before practically tackling Marko. The cute cherub was one wrong move from a fight constantly, and Paul almost got decked, almost. Only stopped because Marko realized who it was. You couldn’t help but shake your head at the antics of your boyfriends.

You pat at your jacket pockets and count to see how much cash you had before deciding to break off to get overly expensive concert water.

“I’m gonna be back,” you pulled slightly from Dwayne, who gently held your wrist as you pulled back.

“What’s up, sweetheart,” he asked.

“Just thirsty, I’ll be back,” You gave him a quick peck on his lips weaving a bit.

You gently lay a hand on David’s shoulder; his crystal blue eyes stare up at you his hand touching yours.

“Water,” you respond to his look. “I’ll be fine you keep thinking about dinner, okay?”

David didn’t say anything, just gave you a mildly annoyed look before scoping the crowd letting your hand slip through his.

It was a surprisingly short line, most likely due to the booth running out of alcohol and everyone moving on to a different one. Yet it seemed to take a lot longer for the attendant to get your water, you didn’t mind waiting. It was nice to step away from the crowd a bit, and take a breath of… not exactly fresh air but air not suffocating from the stench of body odor and general wet-butt-concert smell.

It was a wonder your boys could stand the stench.

You leaned against the counter of the booth, back turned slightly from the crowd, tapping on the wood to the drum beat as best as you were able. Two cold and thin hands ran over your ass, a smile on your face assuming it was Paul or Marko only to turn and be shocked to see… some guy.

Great. “How much do they pay you,”

“What?”

“To have all of them all over you, they gotta pay good to gang bang you, eh?” He grabbed at your face, but you pushed him off.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” David’s voice was loud.

Relief of not needing to fight some asshole washed over you.

“C’mere kitten,” He called you, and you morphed into the group of biker punks.

Marko looked like a ticking time bomb about to explode on the guy. He thought he was being slick. Smooth. Trying to get on their mate.

That wouldn’t happen.

Ever.

“Oh, you who I talk to about how much a fuck with them is?” he said right to David’s face.

The platinum blonde sneered, tossing his cigarette to the ground. But Marko was quicker. His fists flew hard, potentially breaking the bone of the man.

They were crowding around ready to tear him apart, Dwayne the only one holding back to keep you from getting involved.

They only stopped when security arrived, throwing the whole fighting group out of the venue.

“You guys don’t have to do that,” you tell them, walking back to their bikes.

You mount Marko’s feeling like you need to hold onto him the most. He joins you on his bike, allowing you to wrap your arms around his middle.

“Doll, we won’t let you be disrespected like that,” David said, lifting your chin with his gloved finger to face him.

His touch elicited a happier feeling than that of the groping bastard. A smile cracks on your lips, and David presses a quick kiss to them.

“At least we have dinner now,” Paul said, pinching your cheek playfully before mounting his bike.

You lean against Marko, cheek against his patterned jacket. “Thanks for defending my honor, Marko,”

“Of course, dove. What kind of mate would I be if I let someone treat you like that,”

With that, they kicked off their bikes and recklessly took you back to the cave.

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wweshmutznstuff · 1 month ago

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Also Raven bitch compilation part one of like infinity bc he is so insufferable

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wweshmutznstuff · 1 month ago

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Mick stans come get ur food🖤

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wweshmutznstuff · 2 months ago

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Billy’s Girl

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader!Reader (reader’s last name is Emmerson; no reason, just cuz)

Warning: Fluff, making out, Billy realizing he’s in love, and Jason Carver being the dick that he is.

Enjoy & let me know what you think! 💙

“Dude look at Emmerson, she looks fucking hot in that cheerleading outfit.”

“Nah man have you seen Chrissy? She looks amazing.”

“Yeah but have you seen that skirt on Emmerson? If she jumps a little higher, I’ll be able to..”

“Finish that fucking sentence Carver, and the only thing you’ll be able to do is drink your lunch through a fucking straw.”

Billy Hargrove turned around from his seat on the bleachers to glare at the boy seated directly behind him, who was objectifying his girlfriend. Now, dont get it twisted. No one loves cat calling more than Billy Hargrove. But now that he’s a taken man things have changed. He only had heart eyes for his girl. Little Ms Emmerson was one of the first people he met in this shitty, bumble fuck town when he first moved here with his fucked up family. She was beautiful, kind, and sweet, the love of his life. She was the light to Billy’s darkness. He promised her and himself that he would protect her at all costs. And he intended to keep that promise.

Jason Carver visibly gulped at Billy’s threat, knowing that the Hargrove boy wasn’t kidding. Billy’s glare deepened and it his nose flared, almost like a bull ready to charge.

“Sorry Hargrove, didn’t see you there. Just meant to say that your girl is gorgeous.” Jason said, attempting to calm the situation.

Calling her gorgeous? Strike two.

“Yeah I know she’s fucking gorgeous Carver, I’ve got eyes. Just keep your fucking eyes on your own girlfriend and shut your fucking mouth,” and with that, Billy turned back around, eyes back on his girl as she practiced with the rest of her team.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned and found Billy’s eyes immediately. She smiled wide and blew him a kiss before getting into the next routine formation. Billy pretended to catch the floating kiss and brought it to his heart. One of the girls around her whispered something and Billy watched as his girl smiled and blushed, the girls around her obviously teasing her about her their relationship. Her bright eyes found his again and Billy’s swore that in that moment, he’d never felt a love stronger than that. His heart tightened in his chest and he felt like he could explode with pride.

Practice ended an hour later and Billy found himself outside, leaning on his Camaro and patiently waiting on his girl. With anyone else, Billy would have driven off, angry at having looked like a fool for waiting an hour for someone. But for his girl? Billy would wait until the end of time. The gym doors opened and the sound of a gaggle of girls made its way to Billy’s ears. He looked up, arms crossed in his denim jacket as he waited to spot her, a smirk immediately forming on his lips when he did. She locked eyes with him and said goodbye to her friends, making her way towards him with a huge smile on her face.

“Hey handsome. Thank you for waiting for me,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his.

“Anything for you. Just don’t make it a habit. I barely wait for Maxine when she’s late,” he teased giving her a genuine smile, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

“That’s mean, you should wait for her more often. It’s going to get chilly soon,” she gently berated him, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Billy suppressed the shiver he felt coming on, and pulled her closer. She giggled in his arms, pressed so tightly against him, and loving every moment of it.

“I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to think about my little shit head sister right now. I want to think about you in that little uniform of yours,” he whispered against her lips, barely touching. She played along, whispering a reply against his lips as well.

“Oh? And what about my uniform?”

“Just that it’ll look way better on my bedroom floor,” he growled and closed the space between them, pressing his lips hungrily against hers. He swallowed her gasp and slipped his tongue into her mouth as he devoured her. One of his hands slipped down to her behind, using his large palm to give her an impromptu squeeze. She squealed into the kiss and Billy laughed against her lips. When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“Woah, where did that come from?” She asked breathlessly. Billy grinned and nuzzled his nose against her again.

“What, can’t a guy show his girl just how much he’s missed her?” She smiled back at him and pulled him into a sweet embrace.

What she didn’t see, however, was Jason Carver’s car behind her as she and Billy were making out.

What’s she also didn’t see, was that while Billy was hugging her, he was sporting the biggest shit eating grin; his arm around his girl’s waist and middle finger up at Jason as he drove by, a scowl on his face.

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wweshmutznstuff · 2 months ago

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Snow and Rose

An idea by @violettelune

Reformed!Johnny Slaughter x fem!reader

Welcomed readers: @sup-im-blue

Tw: mention of blood and death, him being a dad, mainly his pov, just something fluffy, not prof-read

He woke up to another nightmare. Johnny dreamt that he found you dead in the sunflower field, your blood stained on his hands, lifeless eyes looking up. Then he heard his daughter crying in the distance. No matter how fast he ran towards her cries, he was never close enough. He was never there in time. It always ended with Nancy standing over the crib and a wicked smile on her face.

“Freed ya, Johnny. Now you can come home,” she would say. “Now you come back home. Come home.”

At his feet, barbed wire and chains wrapped around his legs and arms, pulling him to the ground. He felt roots sewing him to the wooden floor into front of his mother as he looked upon her and her smile. He felt chainsaw blades strangling him as he tried to scream your name, but sunflowers and daisies poured from his lips. His world filled with his victims, his deaths, and they all look at him with empty, lost eyes. He knew their names; how could he forget them? Then his eyes focus to the center and sees you and his child in a broken marble block, red tears falling from your eyes as you look on your child. He tastes your blood, your flesh between gasps and teeth. He hates this. He loves you. Stop. Stop it!

Wake up.

He would wake up in sweat, sometimes shutting, sometimes falling out of bed and pushing away from the bed and from you.

Tonight, however, he woke up with a start, breathing heavily, his dark eyes looking around like a scared wild animal. He looked down at your sleeping form then up at the cracked door leading into the hallway. He needed to check. Johnny just needed time check.

He got out of bed, put the blanket over your shoulder, and crept out of the room but something in his chest didn’t sit. He came back and kisses your head. “Be back, y/n,” he promised. “Keep my side warm.”

He may not be a hunter, but he still kept his talents. He can walk without noise, he can move without sound, and he can be hidden without being seen. Johnny uses that talent whenever his daughter is asleep when he comes home from a long day from the butchers. That’s why he got the job in Wisconsin; the butcher need another slaughter, and he’s good at it. Why waste a talent? He’s used to the blood, to the kill, but these are animals, not man. But he got the job to leave Texas. He swore to the stars he’ll never go back.

Johnny made that promise in a burned down church two years ago, and he stuck to it still.

He snuck out the room and down the hall to the open white door to the cotton candy pink room. He lets out a deep sigh as he came over the little white crib he built and looked down. Ophelia Rosemary Sawyer, his 5 week-year-old daughter, slept like a rock in a pink onesie with a bear in the center. Whatever fear he had, the nightmares, the shadows and ghosts— it all faded when he saw her sleeping in peace. Shes his rock, his world, his reason.

Ever so slowly, he lowered his hand and touched her head, and his heart fluttered when she moved into his hand. She’s not scared of him. As if she’s glass, he picks her up slowly and cradles her. He sneaks to the wooden rocking chair in the corner and rocks back and forth. The moonlight lit the room as the snow fell gently over the evergreens.

“Hey there, little sunshine,” he whispers. “Don’ worry. Daddy’s just needed ya.” He looks down at his world and rests his forehead against hers, kisses it, and holds her close. “I swear you’ll never be alone, ever. I love you… I’ll never not love ya.” Then he looks outside, stands up, and takes her to the window. “Look at ‘at, Ophelia,” he whispers in her small spot of brown hair, “it’s your first snow. So pretty an’ bright.” He looks out at the fields and forests, the farmlands and homes, and he thinks about the fireflies and waving weeds he left behind. “Daddy ain’t goin’ away, sunshine. I promise.”

He closes his eyes breathed out slowly. “Texas can keep the fireflies,” he looked down at his child, his blood and flesh, and his heart swelled, “I got my snow and rose.”

“Johnny?” Your voice was enough to make him jolt but he relaxed. “Why are you up? Is Ophelia okay?” You joined his side and looked down at your child. “I didn’t hear her.”

“Naw,” he answers, rocking on his heel, his eyes not leaving his child. “Sleepin’ like a lamb.”

You rested your head on his arm as he looked outside. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he said as he laid his head on top of yours.

“Is this your first snow?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Is it everything you’d imagined?”

He thought for a moment as he took in the land before him. He could imagine Ophelia and her friends running wild outside with sleds, building snowmen, having a snowball fight out back. He could see himself with you during a star filled night while the children sleep, slow dancing with you in the snow, kissing you sweetly while whispering praises. He thought about Texas and the heat, but he thought about you smiling while it snowed, his kids playing, and him giving you a cup of cocoa.

“Everything and more, moonbeam,” he whispers, meeting your eyes. He leans down and kisses you tenderly. “I love you, y/n.”

“And I love you, Johnny,” you said back. You looked back at the snow, and you both watched it fall over the moon lit snow.

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wweshmutznstuff · 2 months ago

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Johnny Slaughter Pregnancy H/Cs Pt. 2

Cw: Mentions of trauma, angst, but also fluff and him being pretty cute for an (ex)cannibal, older Johnny, post-Sawyers, NSFW in the middle

(SFW)

You were also, of course, very emotional and mood-swingy all the time, and while he'd had a tiny bit of experience thanks to your periods, it was nothing compared to your hormones now. While he never, ever, ever admitted it to you, he liked seeing you cry. After all, he can get better, but he can't be completely cured of his questionable morals. But your normal crying was very different than what pregnancy crying was like. Normal crying, you were soft, vulnerable, and just wanted a bit of reassurance and a hug from him.

But this? The sobbing over meaningless things, the angry sobbing, the confused sobbing, the happy sobbing -which he did not know was a thing outside of sex-, all alongside the usual sad sobbing? He did not know how to handle. And it was very much not turn-on material because he just felt bad. He tried not to take the things you said during your fits to heart, and most of the time you were fine, but man you could be harsh when your uterus was fucking you over.

Still, he was remarkably patient with you. Your doctor had warned you about potential fits, especially since it was your first pregnancy, so he'd been mentally preparing himself ever since. It helped, for sure. Most of the time, a gentle "I love you, darlin'," would reassure you, but when it didn't, he didn't just give up. He wouldn't say anything more- partially 'cause he didn't wanna risk saying something that could be taken the wrong way, and he'd let you ramble on about whatever it was that bothered you. He'd nod along, and that was enough. Johnny listened, he'd hug you if you weren't feeling allergic to physical contact that day, and you'd calm down.

(NSFW)

For the first like month, there wasn't very much sex. When it did happen, it wasn't very different. Just the usual, and that was alright.

But man, oh man, the baby bump really did do something to him. It was almost like he'd forgotten that you were pregnant, though he definitely didn't, until the baby bump existed, and from that point on, it was the only thing he could think of. While pre-pregnancy his hands mostly rested on the outside of your thighs, or on your waist, he was now privy to resting at least one on your stomach. He was extra careful not to push on it, not wanting to cause you any discomfort.

The two of you had a small inside joke about how sometimes, whenever he was particularly deep, you could see a slight bump in your lower stomach from his cock. But now that you were pregnant, that bump was something else entirely. And Johnny thought about it one day and realized what being able to see the outline meant.

"Johnny, you do realize you're not goin' all the way in, right?" You'd ask, and he'd scoff. "Don't wanna hurt the baby." "You're not going to hurt it," you giggled. "How do you know that?" "Johnny, you can go all the way in. The baby will be fine." "You sure?" "I promise."

In typical Johnny fashion, the two of you could have some really rough sex sometimes. But that was practically thrown out the window when you got pregnant. You'd have to ask him and give him permission to be rougher, and even then, he showed a lot of restraint.

He also refused to use his knife, or do any kind of impact play, and the only thing he allowed himself to do to hurt you was leave bites. They were a little gentler than usual, and although you missed some of your rougher sessions with him, you understood where he was coming from.

Weirdly enough, it seemed like the further into pregnancy you got, the higher his libido got. You had to turn him down several times because you were often exhausted both from the sex and carrying an entire human being (although an infant, the point still stands) around all day.

Though, when you did reciprocate the feelings, he wouldn't let you do anything. No giving him head, no positions that required you to do anything other than sit or lay down, no riding him, none of it. He'd eat you out, he'd fuck into you nice and slow while you lay back on the bed, or gently move in and out while you sat on the kitchen counter, but he would not let you exert any kind of energy whatsoever. Which was strange, seeing as how he usually loved having you go down on him or seeing you in mildly uncomfortable positions.

Still, you weren't necessarily complaining. You came to accept, and appreciate, his services the further down the line you got. It felt nice to have him lend you all the pleasure you needed without you having to do anything too active.

There were few things you loved more than being able to lay down after a long day, when your back was sore and your body was sensitive, just to have him hold your hand as he rut into you. "Look so sexy with my baby, darlin'," he'd huff, burying his face into your neck and gently biting on your skin. "Can't wait to fuck you real good and rough after all this."

Funnily enough, his libido was actually a major help in a way you never could've even imagined. See, as your due date got closer and closer, you ended up booking a room at the hospital so the doctors could keep an eye on you, as per Johnny's request- err, demand, of course.

Two days in, and your due-date had been passed, and there was still no sign of the baby coming out anytime soon. Johnny remained by your side, and pretty quickly picked up on how you were growing more and more stressed every hour that the baby stayed inside of you. So, what'd he do?

Well, he got inside of you too, of course. Right in the hospital bed, he didn't care. He wanted to take your mind off things, and the best part was, it ended up sending you into labor. Both of you learned something very interesting that day; sexual intercourse is a great way to induce labor.

(SFW)

He was in the room with you when you gave birth, of course, and he held your hand the entire time. He constantly reassured you, even when you yelled and got angry at him because he was holding your hand the wrong way. He adjusted his hold, and continued.

The doctors and nurses all joked about how he was remarkably calm despite how stressful, loud, and sorta bloody the scene was. You told them it was because he was a butcher, so he wasn't uncomfortable with blood, but he knew the truth.

And when it was all over, the 9 months of discomfort and mood swings and excitement, the grueling 5 hours of labor pain, you and Johnny had a baby. A girl. Johnny just- he just smiled when he saw her. He couldn't stop smiling. It was a toothy grin, the kind that made him seem like a complete goof. He couldn't stop looking at her, and when doctors and nurses left the room and he got to hold her, he cried. Genuinely just cried. You had never seen him cry before.

You were overwhelmed with worry- was he upset? Did he not want a girl? was he regretting it?

But then he brushed his nose against your baby's, and held her as close as he could without hurting her, and you realized he wasn't crying out of any negative emotion. Eventually, he handed her back off to you, but he pulled his chair up really close to the hospital bed and let his baby hold one of his fingers. It was insane to see. His hands were big, and it only made her hands seem even tinier. They couldn't even reach around one of his fingers. She was so fragile.

And from that point on, Johnny swore he would do anything it took to protect both you and your baby. He might've been raised in all the wrong ways, but he was going to make up for everything bad he'd ever done. He was going to make his girls happy, and keep them safe, no matter what. He was going to give them every thing that he never got.

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wweshmutznstuff · 3 months ago

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If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

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wweshmutznstuff · 4 months ago

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she is mine ~ mick mars

word count: 2044

request?: yes!

@midsummereve1993 “can you do a mick mars where reader and him are dateing but she pregnant by somebody else who didn’t want to be a father. reader goes into labor and mick is there to help her when she gives birth to her daughter to which mick gives the baby his last name because reader wanted him to adopt her since the baby real father didn’t anything to do with reader or the baby”

description: in which she worries that no one will want her or her unborn daughter, but he proves her wrong

pairing: mick mars x female!reader

warnings: swearing, pregnancy, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

Keep reading

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wweshmutznstuff · 6 months ago