#FEED US UNTIL WE BURST

[tender-rosiey]

Since your requests are open I'll help myself 😋 Gojo's wife starts to have morning sicknesses, so she suspects that she's pregnant. She takes a test and finds out that she actually is pregnant. Would u please write gojo's reaction when his wife tells his that he's gonna be a daddy? 🥺💕 thanks you, please feed us with your delicious writing!!!

Also if you're not feeling well then please ignore this. Take care! Mwah^•^♡

weight — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I hope you like this, luv 🥺💕 thank you so much for your kind words and take care of yourself as well! many kisses and hugs 🫶

“shoko, I need a place to hide!” you say, bursting into the infirmary. you take the small moment of shock that shoko is in to take a much needed breath.

“what did you do this time?”

you wordlessly raise the pregnancy test with slightly shaky hands and upon seeing it, shoko drops the poor sandwich she was eating. you close the door behind you before sitting down next her.

she smiles, “nice, I am going to be an aunt,” then she looks at you confused, “why are you hiding though?”

“I need time to figure out how I will tell him or more like—“ you look at the ceiling, “face him. he will probably figure everything out with his six eyes, but I don’t know how he will react,” you wrap your arms around yourself and shoko sighs.

“you guys didn’t talk about it yet?” she stands up and goes to get you a warm drink.

you gently rock yourself, “satoru already…has so much on his shoulders,” you bury your face in your arms, “I don’t want to add to that.”

she places the mug in front of you, “you do know that he got into this relationship willingly, right? you didn’t hold him at gunpoint or anything…or did you?”

you lightly punch her shoulders, but you take the mug, muttering a small thanks, “if anyone was held at gunpoint then it would be me.”

shoko chuckles and pats your head, “you need to be able to face him, y/n. he will find out anyway, and personally, I think you should have faith in his reaction more than that,” you lock eyes, “you know him more than anyone else, after all.”

your gaze falls to your drink. its surface is so still until you softly blow and it ripples, calm the chaos.

what if you don’t know satoru as much as you thought? what if having a kid will scare him away?  as the strongest, your husband has so much on his mind 24/7. will he be able to handle a baby as well?

while a part of you tells you that your husband is no coward nor is he so fragile, the other can’t help but think that perhaps this love story of 12 years will reach its end, a very tragic end even.

with the creation of a new life, ends a lifetime of feelings and events.

you snap out of your thoughts when you notice shoko shooing you into the closet room.

you hear the door open and you have a guess who it is. he makes himself known anyway, “shoko,  have you seen y/n?”

shoko quirks an eyebrow and gojo huffs, “okay, fine, I know she is here, but is she mad at me? did I do something?”

you have a feeling that he is looking directly at your eyes even through the closet’s door as he speaks, “y/n, I will take you out anywhere. I don’t know what I did, but let me make it up to you. I hate when you’re upset with me, sweets.”

he is frowning lightly as he stares at the closet with hope. shoko sighs before walking out of the room, but not without patting his shoulder.

the door closes and satoru speaks up again, “can you please come out so we can at least talk about it?”

he hears your sigh and beams when you finally get out of the room, “there is my pretty girl.”

he has a flower bouquet in hand and he is looking at you so intently, but you don’t think he noticed the life growing inside of you now. he is far too focused on making you forgive him for whatever he did. you take a deep breath and look him in the eyes.

your hand moves and finally rests on your stomach.

his brows furrow lightly before his eyes widen. satoru’s breath hitches just like it did during your wedding. he places the bouquet aside before looking quickly between your eyes and stomach, “you are…”

you grip your own hands, nodding. tears start forming in your eyes till they finally fall and cries are what he sees now. your knees give out on you and you fall to the ground, now sobbing.

you are looking at the ground as you cry and hug yourself tighter, bracing yourself for whatever is coming.

satoru, almost instantly, finds himself on his knees in front of you.

his arms, like it’s second nature, pull you close into a warm and secure hug, “hey, hey,” he pats your back, a little clumsily, “if you don’t want it then it’s fine. you know I care about you the most,” his voice shakes a bit, “don’t cry please, you’re breaking my heart—“

“I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry,” you repeat a mantra of the same phrase as you pull him even closer. satoru cups your face and the moment you’re met with the pair of blue eyes you love so much, you break down more, “I know you—probably don’t want it but—“

he tilts his head, utterly confused and maybe even offended, “what are you talking about? of course, I want it!”

the room is silent for a moment as you process what he says. it’s like a massive weight has been lifted off your shoulders. you let out a shaky breath as you look down at your hands.

satoru rests his forehead on your own. his voice is soft and barely above a whisper as he speaks, “it’s our baby.”

the content smile on his face is almost unreal, “why in the world would you think that I wouldn’t want it anyway?” and somehow the pout on his face assures you even more.

your arms wrap themselves around his torso and you rest your head on his shoulder, “it’s just—I thought it would be burdening you with yet another responsibility. you have the world on top of your shoulders. how am I better than anyone if I weigh down even if it’s a different type of weight.”

“is it a weight for you?” he asks, voice hushed.

“of course not! I want—“ you answer immediately.

“there is your answer,” he chuckles and you look at his face once again.

you notice that he is tearing up. your satoru is tearing up, and the blindfold isn’t there to hide it nor are the glasses.

his eyes never leave yours as he says, with no waver on his voice, “I would pick you over everything else, every single time and in every single universe, silly girl.”

“you should know that already,” he flicks your forehead but the smile never leaves his face.

a soft laugh tumbles out of his lips as he pulls you in for a big bear hug, his form completely engulfing your own.

he fills tears stain his shirt, but he can only focus on your smile he feels on his skin and the fact that he voice out loud, “I will be a dad,” he sighs with contentment.

“and it’s all because of you,” he raises your face and nuzzles your noses together making you giggle, “we're going to be parents, you sweet pretty thing.”

satoru’s lips find themselves on your own in one very sweet and loving kiss. it’s soft, light, and gentle. yet it conveys all the words that he can’t get out at the moment.

when you pull away slightly, he quickly pulls you back for another, “I love you so much.”

he places a hand on your stomach, “and you too.”

“but don’t think I will share mama with you,” he sticks his tongue out at it, “she is mine!”

the baby is not even out of the womb, and yet he is already bickering with it.

you laugh and your chest feel so light. you kiss his cheek and his pout turns into a grin almost immediately. you hum, “infinity and beyond?”

his hand holds your own and he caresses your ring, “infinity and beyond.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk imagines #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru imagine

[vanderilnde]

a more fleshed-out version from the third prompt of this post of mine.

cw for emotional manipulation, breaking in, stalking, smut, babytrapping, and dubcon to be safe

simon riley/reader

-

Something is wrong. 

Your suitcase is halfway past the threshold of your front door, halfway past your new grave, when you notice the hum of salt and tobacco in the air. Discomfort licks your insides and binds to your skin so heavily that you begin to sweat. A tinny sound peals out as you rearrange your keys between your knuckles, clenching it, and step inside your flat. 

Your heels are at the foot of your shoe rack. Your coat isn’t where it’s supposed to be, crimped in a pool on the floor. Your framed photographs are all inched to the left—you know this because you committed their placement to your memory—because you feared this would happen.

Something is seriously, gravely wrong. 

You feel like you’re lost at sea. Dull-headed and impaired under the alluring melody of a blood-thirsty siren. Walking towards their call, your legs moving before your mind can, spit in the presentiment of fear the same way insects get caught in spiderwebs. Stuck, and about to be eaten.  

You trek further into your flat, following the telltale signs that someone has been here—is here. A general shift in air. The stench of stale herbs and metal. A trail of silt on your hardwood floors, that of which could only be caused by certain mud-clogged boots tracking into your flat.

Here, you pause. On the threshold of your kitchen. Your stomach turns inside out and if it weren’t for your ribs, your heart would have burst out of your chest. 

It’s like you’re walking on glass. Every thin sliver that pokes your skin, invading you, is a splinter of fear. And it also makes it so that you can’t walk away—you’re frozen in place, watching him above your stove, setting a kettle to boil. 

He hears your squeak. Simon turns around, cotton-plated in his civvies, and hums. 

“Welcome home, Love.” 

The moisture leaves your mouth and rushes to your eyes. A film of dew materialises on top of your waterline. It’s thick and pearlescent and clouds your vision, turns Simon into an incorporeal blob in your vision, turning him into a trick of your eyes that you hope will go away after you blink.

He doesn’t.

Instead, Simon rests himself against your kitchen counter. He crosses his tattooed arms over his chest, tilting his head, and bends his lips into an unseemly smile.

“How was your friend’s place?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?” You try getting your anger across, but your voice betrays your emotions. It’s heavily distorted by fear, waning, so much so that it makes him blandly chuckle. Like he can smell the terror roiling off of you. Like he feeds from it.

“How did you get in?”

Simon shrugs. “I’ve got a copy of the key.” 

“I changed the damn locks.”

“I got new ones,” he says.

“We broke up.”

“You broke up with me,” Simon snarls. “When I was at my fuckin’ lowest. You broke up with me and I didn’t agree to tha’ shit.”

“Simon–” a gust of disbelief cuts your sentence short. You grip your hair at its roots, tugging it, twisting it, coiling your face in frustration. “Simon, you need to leave.”

“You’re talkin’ like that ‘cause you’re mad at me. Give it a few minutes, and you won’t be.”

“Are you fucking insane!?” You yell. You draw towards him and slam the kettle off the stove. “You broke into my flat!”

“I had a key,” Simon says. He steps towards you, bullying you backwards until the hind of your spine catches on the cold granite of your countertop. Until your back bends over it, Simon, looming over you. “I’ve always told you to use the deadbolt.”

You bite your lip. The blood sticking to the roof of your mouth isn’t as bitter as Simon’s eyes. His are cold, depthless. 

“Fuck off.”

Then, Simon flips. His expression shifts in a whirlwind of seconds. Now, his brunette eyebrows are pursed and his lips are pointed down. His head is ensconced on your neck, his shoulder suddenly laden with an invisible weight as he kittens into you.

“Just came ‘cause I wanted to talk…” he mumbles. “One a’ my men died on me yesterday. Got early R&R for it. Thought you’d be happy to see me...”

You’re motionless as Simon clemently begins kissing your neck. You split your hands on his chest and try shoving him away, but he doesn’t move. He’s as solid as rock. Pushing himself into you, grovelling into your sleek skin. 

A phantom chain is tightening around your throat. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what you can say. You feel that with any words that poise themselves on your tongue, Simon won’t take kindly to. 

“Simon… I’m sorry for you. I really am,” you slip out from under him and step back. “But this isn’t the way to go about it. We’re adults. And I’m asking you to leave.”

Simon raises his head, lukewarm. He stares at you through his half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily, clenching his fist around the lip of your countertop. Thickly, you swallow. You fidget with your cardigan and hope it will offset the discomfort hanging in the air. Simon takes a deep breath, sucking it all up—the discomfort, the presentiment—and you expect his huffing to precede an explosive reaction, but it doesn’t come. He just slips himself off the island and turns around, quiet when he speaks.

“Yeah,” he hums. “My old man didn’t want anythin’ to do with me, so why should you?” 

Your eyes widen. Though you’ve spent so much time trying to bury it, trying to familiarise yourself with Simon’s sick gambits, a pang of guilt hits you hard.

“Don’t say things like that,” you point an accusing finger to his chest, “it isn’t fair.” 

“No, no,” he grumbles. “Makes sense, does’n’it? My old man walked out on me, so I should handle you walking out on me, too.”

Simon shudders with a long breath. He slaps his face into his hands, and it’s at this point, does your knee-jerk impulse to comfort him take hold of you. The last of your even-tempered brain screams at you—he’s trying to ply you with a humanised side of him, but that side died a long time ago—but you press forward and awkwardly bring him into your arms, patting him on the back. 

“Simon, I’m… sorry, okay?” He buries his head in your neck, nips at your skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Can’t you jus’ yell at me tomorrow?” He asks. Simon slips his hands into the depression of your waist, pulling you against his chest. Against the ever-rising tent of his jeans. 

Your mind protests, but Simon keeps you close. He stinks of sweat, impairing you with it, spinning you around and pushing you against the counter. 

“Simon–”

“Shhh,” he hums, catching his fingers on the hem of your leggings. “Y’said we can talk later. ’m tired, Love. Just need you right now.” 

Any protests rot on your tongue because the wind is knocked out of you as you’re folded over the counter. Simon’s hands travel, gripping every part of you, rekindling old bruises left behind and making space for new ones. 

He ruts into you, cock fattening in his boxers and stressing against his jeans. He slides a hand over the divots of your spine and bends it around your neck, hoisting your head back, huffing into your ear. 

“You’ve no idea how much I missed y’Love,” Simon’s humping you now. Rutting himself against your ass with unrestrained vigour. He bites the husk of your ear, flattens you against the counter, and sinks a hand below your waistband. He spreads your pussy open like the shell of a fruit, pushing his thick fingers into its flesh, knuckle-deep and kneading you. 

“How’s here?” He grumbles. You whine, and he twists himself deeper. “What about there?” 

Your mind and body wrestle between pushing him away and yielding under his touch. Simon fucks his fingers a little deeper, a little meaner, into you, and chuckles when you squeal. 

He rests his chin on your shoulder, and you see a sliver of bared teeth as his lips hitch up into a gnarled smile. “Ah, so that’s the spot, innit?”

You’re dew-skinned and fuzzy when Simon throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom. Your tongue is heavy and numb and bootless against any objections as he throws you on the mattress, standing balefully at the foot of the bed. 

If you were a child, you’d hide under your sheets until he disappeared. But you’re not a child, and Simon doesn’t disappear. He sinks his knees into your bed and swipes his shirt off over his head, unbuckling his belt in one slick motion. 

He unzips his jeans and doesn’t even pull his balls out, just cups the gauze of his boxers beneath it and leans onto his hands.

A pearlescent bead of precum slips down the slit of Simon’s dick and drools onto your comforter. He wraps his hand around it, slips his palm up and down, tugging down your pants.

Your legs kick into a paltry complaint, but Simon pins your legs down. 

“No reason in fighting,” he says, rubbing his cockhead against your clit, “You’re so wet, Love.”

Simon nudges your panties to the side and thumbs your clit. Leans in for a biting kiss and swallows your moans, slapping his fat cock against your puffy, wet cunt. 

“Missed me just as bad, eh?” He huffs, setting his dick against your winking hole, pushing past your first ring of muscle and rolling at the sticky sound of your cunt spreading open.

“Simon–” you hic, latching onto his forearms. Trying to offset his bruising grip on your hips as he falls into a steady, deep rhythm. “At least wear a condom.”

He’s so thick, so heavy between your legs. Hoisting you onto his thighs and leaning over you, snapping his cock into you. He screws his face tight, pellets of sweat running down his marred collarbone. Congealing into the spindly, blonde threads of hair on his chest. Down to the wire of steel wool that thickens on his pelvis, pinching your clit each time he slams into you.

“You’re stayin’ with me, Pup,” he pants, kissing a stripe up your neck, suckling on your pebbled nipple. “Gonna gimme a litter, ain’t you? Just like we talked about?”

A little, lone tear slips down your hot cheek. Simon leans in and licks it off. He stuffs himself to the hilt, shuddering with abrupt pleasure as he skips to his feet and folds you in half, pounding into you, biting down on your shoulder.

It hits you like whiplash when Simon pushes himself so deep that you feel him swelling under your skin. He gives you no warning before emptying his balls inside you, flooding you with a white-hot come, clutching your jaw into a wet, messy kiss.

You’re blinded and eclipsed by pain as your orgasm shoots through you. The pleasure is numbing and makes you quiver, tremble, until you’re gushing around Simon’s cock and swivelling your hips to get away.

You’re shaking when he pulls back, giving your pussy no time to soften. Simon gives it a swat and flays himself off of you, heading to the bathroom. You hear the cellophane of your birth control peeling open, and the successive thunk as Simon tosses it into the bin. 

You try getting up but Simon flattens you back as he crawls in bed next to you. There’s a hand of his on your waist, seemingly benign, but tightens itself each time you try slipping away. Your sniffles are piercing and Simon pulls you close. Brushes your tears away, kisses your eyelids. 

“You’re not gonna leave me now, eh? You can’t,” he whispers, “you’re all I’ve got. You and our baby. You can’t leave me now.”

A pitiful cry escapes you. Simon takes that as agreement.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost/reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #writing #simon riley/reader #simon riley smut #simon writing

[lymtw]

When you let Toji accompany you in the dressing room

"Toji, um," you struggle with your balance, wobbling when he starts pulling down your underwear. "I don't think this is a good idea. There's a really big gap in this stall. People can see us, or at least me."

He makes you take a few steps back with him until his back meets the wall you share with the next stall. "No one can see you now, okay? Come on." He slides his rough hand up your thigh, pulling your dress up to reveal your bare ass. "You look stunning in this dress, mama," he murmurs into your ear. "You're putting me through hell by having me just stand here and watch you try it on." His breath lures goosebumps out onto your skin. "Just makes me wanna fuck you in it." His other hand paws at your boob, squeezing it repeatedly.

"Well... what if they catch us?" You ask, your defense crumbling as he kisses your shoulder and up the slope to your neck.

"We'll just have to be quiet, won't we?"

—

"F-Fuck, Toji—mmph..." Toji's hand comes up to muffle your sounds.

"Shh... mama. You trying to get us caught?"

You shake your head, but it's proving to be a lot harder than you initially thought. You knew it would be hard, but you didn't know you'd be so terrible at holding your sounds in.

"You look expensive, doll. You want this one?"

"Mhm..." you mumble into his palm.

"Yeah? You can have it. On one condition." He leans in close to your ear. "You only wear it for me."

"Mm-mm..." you shake your head and push his hand away from your mouth. "I-It's a dress, Toji."

"Clearly," he says, smugly.

"I-I wanna wear it out."

He kisses your neck. "That's not what I told you, baby. If you get it, it's for my eyes only." His grip tightens on your hips. "Can't have you prancing around in this little thing. All that spare attention on you," he chuckles in your ear. "my knuckles would never heal."

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your hand holds onto the stall door, the lock rattling noisily.

"That got you?" He snickers. "You really are the embodiment of chaos." His hand continues to paw at your clothed breast. He can feel your nipple hardening over the material, something that fuels the lust his body is feeding you. He groans at the feeling of your cunt clenching sporadically.

"What's it gonna be? You gonna be good and wear it only for me, or are we leaving it behind?"

You don't hear a word he says, the adrenaline pumping through your veins blocking everything out.

"Am I talking to myself, now? Answer the question, baby."

You gasp, your head hanging low. "Mm... okay, okay. It's for you... o-only you."

"Smart girl," he murmurs. "Gonna look so pretty like this on my bed."

"C-Can I cum, please?"

"We're taking too long in here, huh?"

You nod, your grip on the door faltering as your legs threatening to give out.

"Alright, you gotta keep your voice down, though."

Toji reached down to overwhelm your neglected clit, enduring the way your body jolted at the rush of stimulation.

"Come on, baby. Feels good, huh? Make a mess on me.

You shudder, unraveling at the constant feeling of Toji thrusting into you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, almost drawing blood from how hard you bite. Your brows furrow, your eyes shutting tightly as you try your best to suppress the moans that are dying to leave your mouth. Toji watches you, a smirk on his face when he hears the smallest squeak slip out, followed by shuddered breathing.

"Good fucking girl," he praises. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he keeps rutting into you until he feels like he's about to burst. You tap his thigh when the overstimulation starts creeping in, falling to your hands and knees when he releases you and pulls his cock out to bust into his hand. You could hear his little hums and breaths behind you, a couple fucks muttered. This was his way of not groaning or moaning out loud when his load spurted out.

He looked down at you stretching your back on the floor, still on your hands and knees. The sight made him realize that this little incident wasn't enough to sate his lust for you.

"Get dressed," he says, tucking himself away. He watches you with a wolf-like hunger as you sluggishly take the dress off. You put your underwear back on and got dressed into your outfit. Green eyes bore into your frame as you tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible for when you exit. You could still see the lingering desire in his gaze when you told him you were ready to go.

You clung onto his arm, leaning against him as you walked out. He grabbed the tag number from the stall door and gave it to the woman working the dressing room area. She looked at the weary smile on your face and the random parts of hair that messily stuck out on your head. She reciprocated the smile but with worried eyes.

"We'll be taking this," Toji says, interrupting the woman's focus on you. He raises the dress by the coathanger it's on to briefly show it to her, before quickly dragging you away from her concerned expression.

"We're done here, right? Ready to go home?" Toji mumbles into your hair as he walks you back to the center of the store.

"Mhm, 'm tired. Just take me home already." You start trying to lead him towards the store's exit.

"Whoop, this way." He maneuvers both of you towards the register area. "Gotta pay first."

#fanfic #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fluff #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #dilf toji #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you

[sweetheartsaku]

—HAIKYU!! various ; how deep is your love?

a/n ; [gn!reader] kinda fem implied in kawa's and kuroo's 😓 do yall like the new layout?? c: suggestive if you squint extremely hard in kuroo's .. i honestly dont know if im writing this timeskip or pre timeskip its 3am 😣

— characters : oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo

part 2 ! ♡ akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna

jade vine !

tooru oikawa ; SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - tyler the creator, brent faiyaz, fana huez

has 'i love you' wars and he MUST win or he will tackle you (affectionate)

takes the BEST candid photos of you and puts so much love into the following insta post. has you as his wallpaper too (please match with him) (he'd also have a highlight just w pics of you😞)

please NEVER do that 'wipe their kiss off' trend because he will actually not talk to you for DAYS and gets all sulky until you apologize. (he will get all cocky all over again)

core memory from his teamates. bae was explaining to his teamates about new volley nerd talk blablabla and they notice his nails painted in a faint pink (for a fun date night, thinking no one will notice)

issei BURSTS out laughing and instantly points it out. now seijoh4 NEVER lets him live it down

always the first person to notice when you use a new shampoo or perfume.

cuddling, (you being the little spoon╰(*´︶`*)╯♡) you can feel his breath hitch when his lips reach your neck

before you could ask why he's stopped inching closer he's already manages to whisper out, "did you start using a new shampoo?" yes. yes you have

do his skincare with him please ! he loves it. he loves when he places you on the bathroom counter and you wrap your legs around his waist, he loves when you're so gentle with the toner, he loves when you graze your delicate fingers over his beautiful long lashes, he loves when you make sure you don't cut him when snipping the face mask so it fits a little more snug, EVERYTHING. (he is sunoo coded)

osamu miya ; good looking - suki waterhouse

loves your tummy SO much. doesn't care about shape or form, he just likes the feeling that you're being fed. squish. or pat. he loves it. have i mentioned he loves your tummy?

when his dad leave the twins at home its always osamu at the stove, please keep atsumu in a 5 mile radius AWAY from the kitchen

SPOON FEEDS YOU. please i need him. on days you're too tired to move a muscle, days where you're too sick to open your eyes, be prepared to feel his hand on the back of your head and one below your chin ready to feed you!! once you've sat yourself up he feeds you so gently... osamu miya i need you

when you're really tired from work, he will send meals to your workplace. if you work at home and sees you barely able to keep an eye open, you will see his hand under a spoon of your favourite meal. he's not the best with it, but he's trying 🥹 he means it with all his heart and hearing you say the food is really warm in your stomach, his heart feels warm too (о´∀`о)

my mans is SNATCHED. slide your hands around his waist, poke it a little do WHATEVER. your hands have probably been on his waist more than his hands on yours.

i think his core is pretty well built. have we seen it in the anime or manga? maybe. but from what i've seen, his physique is very 😳 (a tad bit better than his brother's i fear)

cooking together!!! different recipes each date, basking in each other's presence. its always so fun and the results are always almost flawless!

at one-point y'all were making cupcakes, it was literally osamu baking them and you decorated it.

AND OBVIOUSLY the basic, he would routinely give you handmade onigiri, in different shapes, flavours and whatever you like ✨

kei tsukishima ; the only exception - paramore

kinda scowls at you when you put your hands under his shirt but secretly really loves it so when you slither your hands away he instantly places your hands back and make sure your hands STAY there. bonus points if you have warm body temperature. he likes the feeling of your warm hands on his slightly colder body.

his wardrobe has drastically evolved from muted tones to slightly lighter and vibrant clothing ever since you insisted on getting matching stuff!!

WILL say he is not a jewellery person but collects, keeps and takes care of all the little trinkets you give him DAILY. he has a little sticker on the edge of one of his books and a little moon sticker on the end piece of his sports glasses

he also defineitely has really thick curly blond lashes. you say they are one of his charming points but he gets all flustered. when you insist to put clear mascara on them, he doesn't really look like he has a problem with it 🥹

what could his ahh possibly be listening to with those headphones on so often (real)

sends you playlists at an insane hour that go for insane amounts of time. but i KNOW his taste is immaculate. every song always gives you goosebumps or makes your heart tighten

please do a spotify blend with him (he was gonna ask you, but you beat him to it)(he was shy)

oh AND the shared playlists actually are insane!! so much good music all at once?? crazy yall 😭😭 (wave to earth, cody fry, the smiths, daniel caesar, rex orange county)

shoyo hinata ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande

honestly, out of all these men HINATA SHOYO is the BEST candidate for taking care of a person except himself. has no limits in his stamina, and will only listen to you when you ask him maybe its time for a break. does he overwork? not necessarily. does he work too hard? yes, in a positive way. please remind him to eat because he will forget sometimes

he will NEVER admit he likes being the little spoon LMAO he finds being vunerable in your arms a tad bit silly, and it bugs him. after a long week of practice games and insisting kageyama and yachi to practice with him the instant he falls on the bed, he finds himself melting into your touch. your voice gets a little more buttery and he loves it, falling asleep instantly

hes probably a hard sleeper too 😭 he wont wake up till he feels your cold hands on his face or the sunbeams from the curtain literally bleed into the sheets and steal its colour

PLEASE STROKE HIS HAIR. he loves it. he absolutely loves it. again, melts into your touch like ice-cream. his heart will feel tight and he has a lil' blush 🥹 whats even more priceless is his lips slightly agape after hes fallen asleep... how can you NOT love this man

one of the only boys on this list who will LET you put little pink bows or style his hair in braids and clips. (if you're imagining timeskip hinata, you have attempted to put a little bow around his bicep but you underestimated its size and it BROKE. gosh what an experience)

DANCES WITH YOU EVERYWHERE!!! omg i love him so much. doesn't care if you have two left feet, he just loves the feeling in his heart when he sees your smile as he spins you around. in the rain, in big empty rooms, in the kitchen, anywhere.

loves the idea of promise rings or little trinkets that ensure he gets to have you forever!!

kiyoomi sakusa ; washing machine - VANISHING GIRL, rosemary fairweather

PLEASE braid this man's hair. 😞 he pretends to despise it and thinks you don't notice when he literally melts under your touch. he feels safe 'nd comfy and hopes it lasts forever, when your hand retracts he has a lil' pout

notices when you've been wearing your favourite hood for a couple days straight, has a little scowl under his mask and throws one of his jackets at you. he only gives you the wind-breakers that are 100% cotton or the ones he just knows you like.

he uses this as an excuse to share his clothes with you. its safe to assume its his love language under-cover!

HE IS SO ASS WITH PDA all you get is him giving you hand sanitizer before eating meals or snacks. its only you though, don't tell him that.

BUT sometimes when he feels like it, he will take your hand and put it HIS pocket so "your hands are always sheltered from germs" now what type of bs is THAT. (you love this bs)

can be snarky. sometimes he gets the slightest eenie meenie miniest bit cocky, and its very noticable. has the ability to be a little bit of a tease but not in a pestering way more like a little smartass way LMAO.

tetsuro kuroo ; never lose me - flo milli

always has his hand in the back pocket of your pants. that was it. thank you for coming to my ted talk. (to feel your butt? no idea.)

tutor sessions always unbearable. either you're too busy staring at his biceps, or you're sighing that he's made a little pop quiz for you!! tell him it sucks please

if he notices it gets a bit too much or overwhelming for you over the week or before study dates, insists to take you out instead (what a gentleman!! kuroo tetsuro come into my life)

extremely consistent with routine. good morning and good night text DAILY no matter how busy he is, he WILL find a way (i like to think its his way or the high way #kingofprovocation /hj). very good at getting the things he wants in a non-manipulative way but with simply logic and brains

yeah as captain hes no. #1 but he is also no. #1 waist CLUTCHER. his hands are always on you somehow even in the slightest way, but never pervy. he just likes having his hands on you! bonus points if you have hip dips, he loves it so much. he finds it as a perfect spot to place his hands on (btw ppl w hipdips yall are BEAUTIFUL!! 🥹)

i feel as he has a possessive side as well. small, but more noticable compared to someone else. will not hesitate to stare someone (or recite chemistry nerd stuff 🙁) down for looking at you a little too long :3

when he sees you post or sees himself in your instagram or tiktok dumps, his heart tightens a bit in the best way possible. when you mention him in the post he only reacts with a heart but he's actually going insane

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #oikawa x reader #osamu x reader #tsukishima x reader #hinata x reader #sakusa x reader #kuroo x reader

[s-4pphics]

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL 

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester. 

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving. 

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay. 

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time. 

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact. 

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds. 

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger. 

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.” 

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress. 

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile. 

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes. 

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes. 

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob. 

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday. 

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking. 

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws. 

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth. 

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault. 

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone. 

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.  

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one. 

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.  

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk. 

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here. 

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support. 

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later. 

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it. 

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks. 

Another mindfuck. 

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders. 

She never knocks, though. Never. 

So why are you? 

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock. 

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open. 

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her. 

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.” 

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks. 

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly. 

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.” 

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close? 

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.” 

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me. 

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying. 

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that. 

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough. 

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie. 

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent. 

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly. 

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started! 

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie. 

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car? 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it. 

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin. 

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?” 

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.” 

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie… 

“What’s the matter?” 

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.” 

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up. 

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated. 

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!” 

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both. 

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?” 

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself. 

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so… 

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!” 

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!” 

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream. 

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone. 

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters. 

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?” 

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?” 

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?” 

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you. 

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly. 

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.” 

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay? 

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys. 

“You in there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m coming, send me where you are.” 

“K.” 

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck. 

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again. 

“Hey.” 

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.” 

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack. 

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision. 

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week. 

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something. 

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous? 

The silence is killing you, so you speak. 

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

I also kinda like you. 

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.” 

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness. 

“H-Huh?” 

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.” 

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?” 

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?” 

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.” 

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers. 

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours. 

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands. 

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you. 

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room. 

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you. 

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too. 

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen. 

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath. 

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. 

Once again, you’re too late. 

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting. 

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.” 

-

-

-

CHRISTMAS EVE 

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious. 

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him. 

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten. 

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass. 

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore. 

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose. 

-

-

-

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH 

“Are you ready, kiddo?” 

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that. 

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.” 

No, she’s not. 

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.” 

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s. 

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.” 

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there. 

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside. 

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles. 

Breathe in, one… two… three… 

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

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#click! ☾⋆⁺₊📸✧ #ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #black!oc #black!reader #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪ #ellie williams angst

[lovemly4]

HE GIVES ME BUTTERFLIES

Word count: 2.3 k

Pairing: BestFriend!Felix x Reader

Warnings: Smut, best friends to lovers, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it please), blowjob, facesitting, semi public sex (??), praising, aftercare, explicit language, MINORS DNI 18+

“And… Done! Good job, you can rest now. We’re done for today” my choreographer says, turning off the music and handing me a bottle of water.

I chug eagerly, exhausted by the practice. Today has been particularly hard for me and I don’t exactly know the reason behind it, but now I find myself sat against the mirror, catching my breath as if it was the last.

“I’m leaving, are you coming with me?” my teacher asks me, waiting in the door frame

“No thanks, I think I’ll practice again a couple of times, then I’ll call it a night.” she nods, waiving her hand as her figure disappears behind the wall.

I wait until my heartbeat slows down, boringly scrolling through my Instagram feed, and I come across one of my friend’s latest posts.

And damn, he was devilishly handsome in that picture.

I’ve been friends with Felix for a long time: he was one of the first people to approach me when I got accepted into the dance school, and in one way or another our teachers noticed the alchemy between me and him.

Since then, they paired the two of us for many choreographies.

But that’s it.

No romantic feelings between me and Felix.

No love, no lust, no desire.

Just a really deep friendship.

But then why do I feel that burning feeling in my heart whenever he’s around? And why do I crave his presence when he’s not?

I force myself out of my thoughts, getting prepared to practice again.

I get in position in the middle of the room waiting for the song to start, still chewing on those memories with him.

The door suddenly opens, letting someone burst in and invade my bubble of thoughts.

“Hello love, missed me?” a joyful voice says, tossing his bag on the empty sofa in his trajectory.

Speak of the devil…

I turn to face him, an expression of fake-annoyance on my face while he walks in where i stand.

He picks me up and we twirl together, gently putting me down and pinching my cheek while he smiles at me.

“Wasn’t your teacher supposed to be here today? Has she lost hope with you? Poor thing. “He looks around panting, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You clown. She was here five minutes ago, must have sensed you coming and decided to sneak out.” I flick his forehead, earning a laugh from him “but you can stay here if you want, I’m almost done”

He nods and makes his way to sit on the sofa.

Being a professional dancer, I usually don’t mind people watching me; but there’s something about his gaze that makes my skin burn like a hot sun, leaving me raw and exposed.

I start dancing for the hundredth time this day, even if I feel that my movements are not fluid and confident like they’re supposed to be.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, of course, and he walks towards me.

“What’s going on with you today?” he sweetly asks placing himself behind me. He grabs my waist with his right hand, and gently holds my arm up with his left.

Our eyes meet in the wall mirror in front of us: he’s warm, and I can feel his breath on the nape of my neck. I helplessly shiver at the feeling.

“You’re stiff. I’ll help you with this move, alright?” he moves our bodies together as one “just like that”.

His warm voice, his presence, his body against mine make my head spin, holding onto his arm as I turn around to face him.

“Already trembling like a leaf and I haven’t almost touched you.”

Shit.

My eyes widen in shock at his words, heart going crazy in my chest. He holds my head up by the chin, lips brushing over mines. His steady gaze burns on my skin, still sensitive from his body against mine.

“Who thought I could’ve had you in my arms like this all along?” his voice is deep, hot with lust and desire, and his breath is fanning against my lips.

He won; he knew it. And I let him.

His presence had always filled me, from day one. I was just too blind to see it.

“please” I beg him.

I don’t like the way my voice sounds, it’s whiny and shaky, and we both know he’s the only person who causes it to be like that.

“Please what, love?” his expression is serious, he’s eager to hear me beg again for him.

But I don’t have time to try and speak once more, the fire in my core is demanding.

I pull him down to meet his lips in a chaste kiss, soon to be replaced by tongues fighting and teeth shattering against each other’s.

He picks me up, blindly heading towards the sofa as the kiss gets too heated to just stop. I lose myself in his flavor, my hands find his hair at the base of his head, slightly pulling and feeling the soft strands between my fingers.

That’s when I know I won the jackpot, he pulls away and tightens the grasp on my butt cheeks.

He puts me down gently, sitting beside me as I climb onto his lap. His hands are on my waist, slightly gripping while I trace gentle wet kisses on his Adam’s apple.

His skin is hot, sweet, and it smells like him.

Confident hands rise my shirt, taking the fabric with him up my head to remove it.

“Lix, are you sure?” I look at him worried, suddenly realizing that we still are in a public place.

“They all went home, it’s just us in here” he smiles reassuringly, leaving a small peck on my lips.

I chuckle and tug at the black fabric of his oversized shirt, lazily resting on his upper body.

He lifts his arms to ease my work and I can’t help but stare at his toned body, my hands flattened against his waist.

Everything is harmonious in this man; he doesn’t even look real.

He knows he looks like an angel, and he makes sure to make you feel heaven.

My mouth traces a long line of kisses down his waist, hands following my movements as he throws his head back in pleasure, abs tensed and the tent in the middle of his joggers more and more prominent.

I palm his manhood through the fabric, feeling the outline of it and eager to feel him wherever I can take him.

I pull down both his pants and his boxers in one movement, freeing his half hard cock that now rests on his lower abdomen.

I take it in my hand, slowly pumping it and spreading the little drops of precum down his shaft; he’s hot in my hand, prettier than I imagined.

His breathing is heavy, trying his best not to let moans escape his mouth.

“Don’t hold back Lix, let me hear you.”

He smiles, hissing at my words, stroking my hair and tangling his fingers through it slightly pulling, guiding my mouth down his member while our eyes never leave each other’s.

“Fuck- you’re so good, just like that baby” his words are strained, breathy, almost forced to come out and threatened to be interrupted by his low moans.

I take him in my mouth: he’s deliciously heavy on my tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixing with the sweetness of his kisses.

He stops my movements, smiling reassuringly at my confused face.

“Don’t worry love, you did nothing wrong. But I could cum just by looking at you, and we don’t want that to happen so soon, do we?”

Cheeks blushing, I clean the spit in the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand, eyes following Felix’s movements as he gets comfortable laying down on the sofa, his head on the arm rest.

“Come on pretty girl, sit on my face” he states, patting his chest.

I stand there, unable to put together enough words to express my confusion.

“But- are you sure? What if I hurt you?” I stutter in disbelief.

I sit there shocked, unable to understand if my confusion is given by his request or by the excitement in anticipation.

But it doesn’t feel wrong, at all.

It’s intimate, and I know that I can trust him with my entire heart.

I climb on his chest, his soft and delicate hands helping me strip out of my shorts and panties.

He doesn’t waste time and quickly grips at my thighs: he’s not rough, but he makes me feel safe.

And incredibly horny.

And by the way our eyes talk I understand that he knows what he’s doing and what I’m thinking. He always knew.

We always knew, after all.

I align my bare core to his mouth, still unsure of how much weight to put on him.

But he’s impatient, he’s not worried at all, he grabs the flesh of my thighs and pulls me down in one quick motion.

He licks a long strip, flicking his tongue on my sensitive clit. His tongue is wet and warm against my cunt, feels molded to do that job, and his lips surround his work, stroking the labia from time to time.

God, who thought he could be so nasty?

He alternates between fucking my hole with his tongue and giving attention to the bundle of nerves, and I can’t help but moan his name like a mantra.

I soon feel the familiar knot forming in my lower abdomen, hot and delightful.

“Ah-Lix, please don’t stop” but he didn’t even think about it, not when he has me shaky and whiny under his hands.

I start grinding and fucking myself on his face, his nose hitting my sweet spot with each thrust, chasing my orgasm; his fingers dig in the meat of my legs, as he brings up a hand to massage my breasts. He flicks the rosy bud between two fingers, playing with it, soon starting to make me lose control.

I feel my blood boiling, heat in my whole body while his mouth and fingers work the magic.

“Fe-Felix, ngh- gonna cum” I beg while grinding his face and tugging at his hair. My orgasm is soon to come, crashing down on me and making me see stars, leaving me shaky while he works his way through it.

I move away from his face, freeing him of my grip on his head.

My juices are on his mouth and chin, glistening with the dim light of the room. He’s such a view.

“I could’ve bet you tasted divine” he states licking his lips while I catch my breath, fucked out expression on my face.

“Look at you, already so drunk and I didn’t even start” he whispers, moving a strand of hair out of my face kissing me tenderly, as if he waited years to savor this moment and finally fate was on his side.

But we did, though. Idiots in love, just too stupid to see it.

He moves us putting me on his lap, letting me do the rest.

“Let me, I can do this” I swear reassuringly, his dark half hooded eyes staring at me.

I lower his joggers where they were moments before, his still hard veiny cock slapping against his tummy.

I gently stroke it, spitting in my hand and spreading it evenly, while he grows impatient and low groans make their way out of his throat “Don’t tease, please” he begs.

I smirk, aligning it with my entrance, the wetness of my previous orgasm enough to make it slide in easily.

We exhale once it’s fully in, like we’ve both been holding our breath, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes and his mouth hanging open.

He places his hand on my hips, helping me set the pace as the other one finds my breast. Felix has a weakness for tits, noted.

I grind myself on his dick; I can feel his silky skin under my hands, flattened against his abdomen. The tip is hitting the right spot inside me, my clit brushing against his pubic bone feels delightful.

“Fuck- darling you’re perfect, such a good girl for me” he whimpers, noticing my thrusts getting weaker.

He hugs my waist to lift me up, my breast in front of his face in the motion while he starts relentlessly thrusting up, loud skin slapping noises and our moans filling the room, making the filthiest melody we’ve both ever heard.

He brings his thumb to my mouth, wetting it enough to stroke my clit, gently flicking it and making me drip even more.

I feel my orgasm approaching once more, the sight of Felix’s fucked out expression adding to the tingles bubbling in my tummy.

“I’m- close” I manage to say between breaths “I know baby, hold on a little longer” he moans out against the flesh of my shoulder slightly biting on it, the sting of the action just adding to the pleasure.

“Felix, I can’t, please” I cry out against his neck, too fucked out to form a coherent sentence

“Cum baby, go on” his hips stutter against mines “gonna cum inside you, alright love?” he asks, but i don’t even have the time to say anything before our highs crash down the both of us, leaving us a hot mess.

I pant against his chest, heat fading and leaving space to the cold air in the room. He strokes my hair, leaving gentle and sweet kisses on my forehead.

I look up into his eyes: they’re glossy, and a strange glow enhances the color of his iris. Keeping a steady hand on my waist, he uses the other one to open his bag and pull out a clean shirt.

He cleans the both of us, paying extra attention to where our bodies where still connected. He looks for my clothes, helping me getting dressed and handing me his bottle of water.

We lay there, my eyes getting heavy as he talks quietly in the emptiness of the building.

A loud noise startles me, immediately searching for Felix’s eyes.

“Oh… yeah. I might have forgotten about the cleaning women” he states, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

I cover my face with my hands exhaling exasperated

“I can’t fucking believe it”.

a/n: Hello! First smutty one shot here, so it might be highly improvable. Let me know!!

#lee felix #stray kids #k-pop #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #lee felix fluff #stray kids felix #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #smut #fluff #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz x reader #idiots in love #lee know x reader #hyunjin x reader #bang chan x reader #in x reader #han x reader #changbin x reader #seungmin x reader

[dripdropdown555]

The Bimbo Bounce (I’m back)

Alliteration is a useful hypnotic tool. It gives sentences a bit of extra potency, makes mantras easier to remember, and improves the lifespan of a suggestion pretty considerably. That's the operating theory, anyway. Shall we explore?

Bounce for me; that's simple enough to start things off.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

The phrase sticks, somehow, even though it sounds a little silly. Something seems to make it linger in your head. It has a unique feel to it, a quality you can't quite put your finger on. The syllables seem to echo: bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

But how does a bubbly brain behave? Like a bubble, as you'd expect, with something creating a volume of empty space inside while thoughts slide smoothly across the expanding surface, oily and slick. At first, it feels like your thoughts have more area across which to spread. Your thoughts shift slightly, glistening and growing ever more thin. At least, until the bubble pops.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

And burst it must. Bubbles are ephemeral entities, aren't they? It's alright; you'll scarcely notice. When the bubble pops, your thoughts that are currently floating on the surface will splash to the floor. The empty space inside will rush rapidly outward, turning you into a bit of an airhead. Seems fitting, doesn't it?

Bursting bubbly brains blow pink

Bounce, and pop.

You'll feel the splash like a sudden surge of lust and arousal coursing through your body. The rush of air inside your head might cause you to get light-headed, so you'll spread your legs to steady yourself. Of course that's what you're doing, isn't it? Steadying yourself, not putting yourself on display. Right.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

Burst bubbly brains blew pink

Bimbos brainlessly bounce.

As you begin to bounce to a silent rhythm, it occurs to you that some bubbles have a kaleidoscopic sheen when you look at them, but others have a very solid color within. Your brain-bubble was bubblegum pink, now that you think about it.

Well, as much as you can presently think about anything. That pop did more than just fill your head with empty air. You can feel your intelligence leaking into the space around you, escaping...your absent brain can't contain it any longer.

Bimbos bounce their brains away.

If your brain was still intact, you might think to stop bouncing so you'd be better able to think. But your brain exploded in a flash of pink and wet, and now you're as blank as a bouncing bimbo should be. You're able to understand my words out of some remnant of intuition, but if you pause to try and think them through, everything just goes pink and pops again.

Blank bimbos bounce brainlessly

That seems sensible enough, especially since bouncing feels pretty good. The splash of wet pink thoughts from the pop made your body more sensitive, perhaps by providing you with better things on which to focus. You certainly feel blank, and you are bouncing. Are you a bimbo, though?

Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos

A side effect of the bubbly brain from before is that you're finding all of this pretty amusing. Certain bits of sentences make you want to giggle and smile, even when you can barely understand them. Might've let too much of your intelligence leak away, but it's all just so silly, isn't it?

Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce

If you were a bimbo, would you be able to tell? Would you find the situation you're in far more amusing than you should? Would your body be becoming progressively more sensitive as your empty head adjusts to having no thoughts to contain and feeds all that focus to your hungry nerves? Would the bouncing be this arousing all by itself?

That depends primarily on what sort of bimbo you've become, but the answer should be clear by now. Each bounce produces a wave of pleasure, each wave pushes more of the remnants of your brains into the air. The less brains left in your head, the more you smile and giggle. The giggles produce flashes of pink that remind you how very silly and simple this is. All you did was bounce.

Bouncing blank bubbly bimbos are brainwashed

Bounces can take all sorts of forms. You can bounce bits of your body with your hands, bounce up and down in a chair, bounce with the aid of the springs below the bed...all to the same end. Everything is turning pink and wet and silly for you.

This leaves you with only two options: You could let yourself settle, riding the high of the blank bubbly brainwashed bimbo until your brain somewhat reluctantly returns to your head. I won't stop you, you'd simply wake after a few minutes of coming back down.

Or the blank bouncing brainwashed bimbo could shift the energy from bouncing just a little and satisfy that lust your body is feeling. The only real hazard is that your head is already full of air, and cumming your brains out when they've already mostly evaporated could leave you pretty dumb before it's all said and done.

But you've already made a choice, or it's already been made for you. My words could be passing by almost invisibly as the bouncing subsides, or you may already be excitedly picking a toy to bounce on or a rhythm to use while you stroke yourself senseless.

Either way, everything will fade into a yummy pink haze before much longer. I wonder how much bimbo brain you'd need to bounce away before the condition became a bit stuck...

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly

Bubbly brains are bound to burst

Burst bubbly brains blow pink bubbles

Blank brainless bimbos bounce

Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos

Blank bouncing bimbos are brainwashed

Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce

Go on, up and down, bouncing yourself all brainless and bubbly. You'll drift awake awhile after you've finished following my instructions.

Do let me know how silly, brainless, or dumb you felt...if you are comfortable expressing it, of course.

(Editors Note: I used to be @slowlymyavenue but tumblr shadow banned me so I have restarted - please follow and reblog here)

#bimbo hypnosis #hypnok1nk #bimbo doll #bimbo girl #bimbo training #bimboification #dumb puppy #dumb slvt #dumb wh0re #dumbification #hypnosub #hypnotized girl #hypnotized #hypnosis #mind corruption #mind control #mind conditioning #cnc brat #cnc fr33use #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #soft cnc #dumb bunny #stupid slvt #attention wh0r3 #bimbofied #bimboization #bimbo babe #bimbocore #corruption kink

[woso-dreamzzz]

Pet Problems IV

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: The first two kittens go off to a new home

The drive to Eli's house was uncharacteristically quiet.

Usually, Alexia had the radio on or the aux cord but today it was completely silent. She took several steadying breaths as she pulled onto her mother's street.

She parked but didn't get out.

You reached over the gear shift and gently threaded your hand with hers, intertwining your fingers. "Are you okay, Ale?" You asked softly.

She glanced into the backseat, where the cat carrier was waiting.

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie." You squeezed her hand. "It's okay if you're not alright."

She didn't look at you, staring across the road at her mother's house. "They're very little. They could still get hurt."

"Your mother won't let them get hurt," You reminded her," They're more than old enough to leave - probably a little overdue to leave, actually."

"Kiara might miss them." Her argument sounded weak even in her own ears.

"Be honest, baby," You replied," You'll miss them...But it's okay. They're not too far away. I'm sure your mother would let us visit whenever we wanted."

Alexia pouted, blinking tears from her eyes before finally unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.

It was a short walk from the car to Eli's house and soon, the doorbell was rung.

Eli, as always, welcomed the pair of you inside.

She hugged you both but it was clear that her attention was elsewhere when Alexia finally relinquished custody of the cat carrier.

It was placed on the floor of the living room, the front unzipped carefully.

A ginger and white mottled head popped out of the opening, followed immediately by another one.

"Oh, hello, babies," Eli cooed softly, reaching out a hand to gently stroke over one of the kittens' ears," Aren't you two all big and strong?"

The second kitten mewed its disapproval at not being touched, meandering closer and rubbing its cheek over Eli's arm.

"They've had all their shots," Alexia offered up weakly, very clearly not as put together as she wanted you to think she was," And they're very playful. Well socialised too."

"Ale," You said softly, reaching out to hold her waist," Eli knows. You told her on the phone yesterday."

Alexia nodded once as her throat bobbed.

She looked away, tears misting in her eyes.

"We should probably get going," You said after an hour or two of supervised kitten play," It's getting late and we've still got kittens at home to feed."

Eli nodded, scooping you up into a hug. "Thank you, chica," She said warmly," I'm sure I'll see you both back here soon." She gave you a pointed look as you both turned to look at Alexia, who had scooped the kittens into her arms and was whispering something to them - looking like she was about to burst into tears at any moment.

"Yeah," You said," I'm sure we'll be back too."

●～●～●～●～

Somehow, Alexia managed to not break down in the car. You knew it was coming though.

You knew it in the way that she drove - white knuckled clutch on the wheel.

You knew it in the way that she walked - the slight hesitation in her steps.

You knew it in the way that her hands shook so much that she dropped the keys and you had to unlock the front door.

As soon as she was in the safety of your home, she broke down in sobs, eyes red-rimmed and broken noises coming from her mouth.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Ale," You said, guiding her to the sofa and into your arms, lying back and softly shushing her.

She buried her head in your chest and openly sobbed.

Nala hopped up onto the sofa, squirming her way into Alexia's arms and licking her nose whenever Ale looked at her. Kiara, unbothered from where she sat across the room, mewed at you insistently until you invited her over - allowing the cat to sit on the armrest behind your head.

Marie joined the three of you as well - ever curious and happy to be involved. She curled up in the crook of Alexia's knees and began to kneed Ale's legs.

The other kittens tumbled around on the floor of the lounge - pouncing and playing with each other. You could see Alexia staring at them, biting her lip to stop herself from breaking down and sobbing again.

"It's alright, Ale," You repeated," Your Mama's gonna take care of those two. We can visit whenever you need. We can even take Marie to visit them, if you want."

Alexia wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, chin still wobbling as she looked up at you. "Promise?"

"I promise."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

[kenananamin]

Fun-sized best friend

Summary: After seeing you cry at a post about a dog being put down soon, Nanami reaches out to adopt the dog. It'd be the first time you both have a pet together, but it should be fine... right? fluff fluff fluff, nanami x fem!reader

Nanami is driving back home while you giggle in the passengers seat. You're holding a fluffy dog that is wriggling all over your lap and licking anything around it.

He looks over at your happy face and smiles, but looks down to the dog and sighs. You were on the verge of tears last night after seeing an ad for the dog. She's a three-legged dog who was removed from her previous owner's care. She had a couple more days before she would be put down and that last detailed pushed you over the edge of teary eyes. Nanami comforted you as best he could and messaged the account while you showered. After he heard the water turn off, he entered the bathroom and told you the news about the dog no longer being put down because she'd have a home soon.

Seeing your happiness in the car told him he made the right decision but this was the first time he'd adopted a dog. Nanami always considered himself a cat person but he would do anything for you... including trying to adjust to a hyper dog.

"This shouldn't be too hard," you tell Nanami after seeing his nervous glances towards your new companion, "she's only got three legs."

Nanami looks over half in horror and half in surprise that you'd say something like that.

His reaction makes you burst out in laughter, "I'm kidding! I'm really kidding! But we will be fine, she'll have so much love and attention and everything she needs. I'll give her everything I can," you lean to hold his hand, "thank you Ken. Really, thank you."

Nanami intertwines his fingers with yours and smiles back, "Love you, darling."

———

Nanami opens the fridge to grab Emi's food. You called to let him know you were going to be home late and asked if he could feed Emi and take her on her walk. He looks down to see her looking up at him and patiently waiting. Emi was very calm around Nanami and would quietly follow him around compared to running circles around you.

Emi finishes her food and Nanami grabs the harness. She starts jumping after seeing the harness and it takes him a second to put it on. Emi pulls their way out the door and Nanami hurries to lock the door and start their first walk without you.

You come home and hear Nanami grunting in the bathroom.

"No!" Nanami yells followed by quick steps.

Emi runs out the bathroom, shaking the water off her and running towards you. Nanami throws the door open, the bottom of his shirt and parts of his pants completely soaked.

"Were you bathing Emi?" You ask while you rub and pat your fun-sized best friend.

Nanami sighs and puts his hands on his hips, "Yeah, she saw a puddle and decided to jump in and got us both dirty."

You laugh and stand up to go give Nanami a hug and kiss. Emi lays down and starts rubbing all over the small living room carpet while mom and dad have a moment.

———

"I'm so sorry, all these deadlines are killing the team."

Nanami nods as he watches you rub your eyes on your facetime call, "It's ok, but can you call me as soon as you're leaving? Or call me if it gets too late, I'll pick you up and we'll get your car later."

"I'll call you when I'm done. I love you, Kenny. Byee my wittle Emi, mommy wuves youuu!!" You hang up the call and Nanami looks over to the dog that seems to be smiling.

"How come you get the baby voice?" Nanami and Emi stare at each other until she moves onto his lap. Nanami keeps staring and slowly lifts his hand to pet her.

The house is dark when you open the door. You got out much later than expected and walk into the living room to see a sleeping Kento sprawled on the couch and Emi tucked into his side. Emi was awake and looking at you, but did not move from her cuddle. You grab the blanket draped behind the other couch and cover your two loves.

———

You wake up early Saturday to a quiet house. Nanami had been taking Emi to her morning walks alone to let you sleep in after your long work days. It had been over two weeks since your team had to absorb another team's workload after that team was dissolved. It would only be a few more days of this and then you'd be back to your regular schedule.

Nanami and Emi come back home while you're making your tea.

"Welcome home!" You yell out as Emi runs to you while her whole body moves with her waggling tail. Nanami follows suit and goes to kiss your forehead. He's holding a large paper bag, bulky with whatever was inside.

You raise your eyebrows at the bag and Nanami puts it down on the counter, "We went to the pet store for another harness since she's outgrowing this one."

"That looks like much more than a harness," you laugh and peek into the bag, "toys? Ken, is this whole bag is full of dog toys??!"

Nanami freezes and slowly backs away from the bag and you, "Emi kept looking at them. She likes toys." He whispered and Emi stands on her leg to lick his hand.

You stare at the frozen man and dog who left your side for his. You sit on the floor to call Emi back over, but she looks between you and Nanami and sits by his side. Your jaw drops and Nanami leans down to carefully push Emi to you.

———

You park your car and lean your head back. Finally, you were finally back home at a regular time. You pick up the grocery bags and start to head inside, excited to surprise Nanami with the first full dinner you've made in weeks.

You open the front door, smiling at the thought of his surprised face as you come home early. You see Kento and Emi sitting on the couch. His face definitely expressed that he was surprised... but so were you.

Kento was holding Emi on his lap, fixing a homemade matching collar and tie on her neck. He froze with his hands around her neck when he heard the door start to open. He opens his mouth to try to explain what's happening but you fall to your knees with the grocery bags, cackling at the scene.

There are scraps of fabric, scissors and a sewing kit on the center table. You can't see much besides that past the tears in your eyes and you fall to your back and hold your face in your hands, trying to control the laughter.

"I can explain," Nanami says from the couch but it makes you laugh even harder.

Emi walks to you and you finally sit up to closely look at Nanami's work of art. You knew he was good at sewing as he's helped fix a couple things before but this was something you could have never imagined he would make.

"I was fixing my tie this morning and she was sitting in front of me, staring. I don't know why but I started wondering what she'd look like with a little tie so I went to the store during my lunch break and started making this..." Nanami sits beside you on the floor as he explains. You pet Emi with one hand and hold the handmade tie with the other.

He used his lunch break to buy and start making this. You were so convinced when he adopted Emi that he'd just take a backseat with raising and taking care of her, which you were fine with since you both knew you were the dog person in this relationship. Seeing him do so much for her made you laugh at your initial thoughts but it warmed your heart to see so much love for the fur bundle you both considered your fun-sized best friend.

"You know, seeing you both with ties makes me realize you look so much alike," you tell Nanami as you straighten Emi's collar.

"She's got my tie but she's got your eyes," Kento gets closer, holds your neck and leans in to kiss you.

You slap his chest at his comment but he laughs and continues to kiss you as you both shift on the floor to face each other. Emi starts to jump between the both of you and barks for your attention. Nanami grabs a nearby toy without backing away from the kiss and throws it across the room to distract Emi.

Nanami breaks the kiss and looks into your eyes, "I didn't get to say it earlier, but welcome home, baby. We're happy to have you home on time."

The fact that he includes Emi on the statement and says they're both happy makes you laugh yet again. Emi runs back with her toy and is back to jumping around the both of you. There really is no place like home.

a/n: I can see nanami doing something like this too in the story lol

Picture found here

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk nanami kento #nanami #nanami x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jjk nanami x reader #jjk nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #nanami jjk #nanamin #jjk nanami kento x fem!reader

[grandlinedreams]

Ok but reguarding Law’s MIA s/o: What if Luffy and the Strawhats found them and calls Law on the den den mushi and is just like, “Oi, Torao! I found (nickname)!” Just both Law and s/o reconnecting over the snail trying not to burst into tears.

Oh YES we love soft closure that's good and gentle 😌 thus, this will be the sequel to [this]

[Heads up!: mention of injuries, hurt/comfort]

Some divine being must have your back. That's the only reason you can think of as to how you aren't dead ㅡ and how you've landed in the care of an ally, no less.

"We may not be an alliance anymore, but that doesn't mean we're not friends, right?" Luffy's grin is bright and wide, patting you on the shoulder and laughing sheepishly when Chopper snaps a warning about jostling you too much.

"They almost died, Luffy! You need to be gentle!" Chopper fusses with the thick band of cloth around your upper arm, and you glance at Luffy.

"You have a transponder snail, right?" He blinks and then nods, and you swallow. "Can I borrow it? I need ㅡ I need to call Law."

He probably thinks you're dead, or that you've been captured. It's Nami who approaches with the transponder snail, and your heart hammers as it begins the familiar 'purururu'.

Law answers after a minute. "What do you want, Strawhat?"

Your lips part, but there's a lump in your throat now, the rise of tears in your eyes at hearing his voice.

"Hey Traffy, you'll never guess who we found! We found [nickname]!" Luffy speaks for you, and you stare at your hands as Law processes Luffy's words.

"[Name]...?" Law's voice is soft, softer than you've ever heard it ㅡ as if he's afraid to believe Luffy, that the other captain is feeding him false hope.

"Law," you croak, voice thick with tears. "I'm ㅡ yeah, I'm here."

"Are you okay?" Law can hear the pounding of his own heart, the rise of emotion at hearing your voice but being unable to see you ㅡ and his chest aches when he hears a tiny hiccuped breath from you.

"I'm okay," you say, "I'm so sorry, Iㅡ"

"Don't apologize." Law doesn't care that his crewmates are watching him at the moment, relief at knowing you're okay, you're alive trumping everything else. "Strawhat. We need to arrange a rendezvous so I can take [Name] back."

You scrub at your eyes as you listen to Law and Luffy discuss where to meet up, vaguely aware of Robin's hand on your back, trying to soothe you.

"Are you okay?" Nami's voice is gentle once you've calmed down and you register that the transponder snail is quiet. It hurts that you hadn't gotten to say more to him, gotten to say goodbye ㅡ but your heart hammers at the prospect of seeing him again, and you've had enough of goodbyes for a while.

"Yeah," you answer at last, "I'm just ready to go home."

ㅡ

The rendezvous point doesn't take long to reach, the Polar Tang having coincidentally been in the area, searching for marine presence and any scrap of you they might happen upon ㅡ and you watch as the familiar yellow metal breaches the surface.

Anxiously, you scan the small deck, waiting ㅡ and then the door opens, and your heart stops. Law.

You're tempted to vault over the railing of the Sunny, take your chances with the waves just to get to him faster, but Law seems to have the same idea as a blue aura encapsulates the space between both ships ㅡ and then he's in front of you.

Given how private he is, you expect Law to wait until the two of you are alone to express raw emotion, untempered by social expectations ㅡ but his arms are around you, squeezing you tightly, and you get the feeling he was a lot more than just worried about you.

Now that Law has you back, a little worse for wear but ultimately alive, he can admit that he was terrified. That he'd lost someone again, upheld his personal belief that all he knows how to do is lose the ones closest to him ㅡ but you're alive.

You're here, in his arms, safe ㅡ he presses his face against your head, closing his eyes as he uses you to anchor himself, tethering away from 'what ifs' and all the worst case scenarios he's entertained over the last few days.

"Missed you," you mumble, and his grip tightens.

"I missed you too."

#ㅡmine. #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #anonymous #ㅡanswered.

[sporesgalaxy]

bursts into the room unprompted

for sanji, seeing himself as a tool for others and a (faulty) weapon in particular is something that was instilled in him by force; something instilled in him by a man who breaks and replaces his tools constantly, and blames the tools for breaking. thus, sanji sees his usefulness as contingent upon his willingness to be destroyed completely in the process of being used. he'll work at the baratie until zeff dies. he'll let himself be killed trying to protect the baratie. tell luffy to start looking for a new cook. get lost you miserable, inferior pirates.

zoro, on the other hand, made himself into a tool and a weapon for fulfilling his and kuina's dream completely by his own will. additionally, he grew up in an environment where tools/weapons were valued and painstakingly maintained rather than interchangeable and disposable. he has the same anger at his own uselessness (against random chance death, against the fallability of his own body), but he doesn't see being destroyed as necessary to usefulness. being useful is worth being destroyed for, but being destroyed is not useful.

but also, sanji can be useful in a way that will always be needed: he feeds people. he can fall back on this, even when he is useless as a weapon. we know less about how zoro sees himself outside of being a weapon. does being useless as a weapon leave him feeling empty or worthless? would being unneeded as a weapon, even by kuina's memory, set him adrift? was this already addressed and I just forgot because zoro acts so put-together all the time? one can't help but wonder

#adddna #1pc discussion #1pc #zs #sorry for being insane. about the anime pirate yaoi assholes

[slowlymyavenue]

THE BIMBO BOUNCE

As the title suggests, this will be a bit of a departure from my usual fare.

I am, as always, very interested in feedback on this piece (and any other.)

Alliteration is a useful hypnotic tool. It gives sentences a bit of extra potency, makes mantras easier to remember, and improves the lifespan of a suggestion pretty considerably. That's the operating theory, anyway. Shall we explore?

Bounce for me; that's simple enough to start things off.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

The phrase sticks, somehow, even though it sounds a little silly. Something seems to make it linger in your head. It has a unique feel to it, a quality you can't quite put your finger on. The syllables seem to echo: bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

But how does a bubbly brain behave? Like a bubble, as you'd expect, with something creating a volume of empty space inside while thoughts slide smoothly across the expanding surface, oily and slick. At first, it feels like your thoughts have more area across which to spread. Your thoughts shift slightly, glistening and growing ever more thin. At least, until the bubble pops.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

And burst it must. Bubbles are ephemeral entities, aren't they? It's alright; you'll scarcely notice. When the bubble pops, your thoughts that are currently floating on the surface will splash to the floor. The empty space inside will rush rapidly outward, turning you into a bit of an airhead. Seems fitting, doesn't it?

Bursting bubbly brains blow pink

Bounce, and pop.

You'll feel the splash like a sudden surge of lust and arousal coursing through your body. The rush of air inside your head might cause you to get light-headed, so you'll spread your legs to steady yourself. Of course that's what you're doing, isn't it? Steadying yourself, not putting yourself on display. Right.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

Burst bubbly brains blew pink

Bimbos brainlessly bounce.

As you begin to bounce to a silent rhythm, it occurs to you that some bubbles have a kaleidoscopic sheen when you look at them, but others have a very solid color within. Your brain-bubble was bubblegum pink, now that you think about it.

Well, as much as you can presently think about anything. That pop did more than just fill your head with empty air. You can feel your intelligence leaking into the space around you, escaping...your absent brain can't contain it any longer.

Bimbos bounce their brains away.

If your brain was still intact, you might think to stop bouncing so you'd be better able to think. But your brain exploded in a flash of pink and wet, and now you're as blank as a bouncing bimbo should be. You're able to understand my words out of some remnant of intuition, but if you pause to try and think them through, everything just goes pink and pops again.

Blank bimbos bounce brainlessly

That seems sensible enough, especially since bouncing feels pretty good. The splash of wet pink thoughts from the pop made your body more sensitive, perhaps by providing you with better things on which to focus. You certainly feel blank, and you are bouncing. Are you a bimbo, though?

Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos

A side effect of the bubbly brain from before is that you're finding all of this pretty amusing. Certain bits of sentences make you want to giggle and smile, even when you can barely understand them. Might've let too much of your intelligence leak away, but it's all just so silly, isn't it?

Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce

If you were a bimbo, would you be able to tell? Would you find the situation you're in far more amusing than you should? Would your body be becoming progressively more sensitive as your empty head adjusts to having no thoughts to contain and feeds all that focus to your hungry nerves? Would the bouncing be this arousing all by itself?

That depends primarily on what sort of bimbo you've become, but the answer should be clear by now. Each bounce produces a wave of pleasure, each wave pushes more of the remnants of your brains into the air. The less brains left in your head, the more you smile and giggle. The giggles produce flashes of pink that remind you how very silly and simple this is. All you did was bounce.

Bouncing blank bubbly bimbos are brainwashed

Bounces can take all sorts of forms. You can bounce bits of your body with your hands, bounce up and down in a chair, bounce with the aid of the springs below the bed...all to the same end. Everything is turning pink and wet and silly for you.

This leaves you with only two options: You could let yourself settle, riding the high of the blank bubbly brainwashed bimbo until your brain somewhat reluctantly returns to your head. I won't stop you, you'd simply wake after a few minutes of coming back down.

Or the blank bouncing brainwashed bimbo could shift the energy from bouncing just a little and satisfy that lust your body is feeling. The only real hazard is that your head is already full of air, and cumming your brains out when they've already mostly evaporated could leave you pretty dumb before it's all said and done.

But you've already made a choice, or it's already been made for you. My words could be passing by almost invisibly as the bouncing subsides, or you may already be excitedly picking a toy to bounce on or a rhythm to use while you stroke yourself senseless.

Either way, everything will fade into a yummy pink haze before much longer. I wonder how much bimbo brain you'd need to bounce away before the condition became a bit stuck...

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly

Bubbly brains are bound to burst

Burst bubbly brains blow pink bubbles

Blank brainless bimbos bounce

Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos

Blank bouncing bimbos are brainwashed

Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce

Go on, up and down, bouncing yourself all brainless and bubbly. You'll drift awake awhile after you've finished following my instructions.

Do let me know how silly, brainless, or dumb you felt...if you are comfortable expressing it, of course.

A message:

Hello yes I’m back, I took a break but now I’m here, please follow reblog and share, dms are open x

#hypnotized girl #hypnok1nk #bimbo doll #bimbo training #bimbo hypnosis #bimboification #dumb puppy #dumb slvt #dumbification #dumb wh0re #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #rough cnc #cnc somno #cnc kidnapping #cnc brat #hypnokitty #hypnosis #hypnotized #hypnosub #bd/sm brat #mesmerizing #dumb bunny #bimbo girl #bimboization #bimbofied #bimbocore #bimbo babe

[show-your-fangs]

My trauma from certain chapters of Moments might’ve come up with something for a blurb. I’d die to see Jack expressing himself over not liking Beth and some sort of moment between reader Aaron and Jack where Jack makes it clear that he sees reader as a mother figure which makes Aaron pull his head out of his ass and makes the right chooce IMMEDIATELY for once👀 Or idk maybe not even Beth related but it would be cool to see Jack not wanting to lose another mother figure

I just love my little trio of hotchner boys and reader they’re such a little family I could cry

gosh as much as i am a beth hater, i could not find a way to fit this into moments. however, chapter 24 is literally just domestic fluff so you'll be fed GOOD when it comes out.

here's just a cute little moments au blurb where jack calls reader mom and aaron almost loses it.

This is part one of two Moment AU asks that I thought would go perfectly together.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 788

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

"Can we invite mom to dinner?" Jack's question filled the quiet apartment with a heaviness that Aaron couldn’t quite understand. Haley had just dropped the boy off at his apartment after spending the better part of the week at her place.

"Buddy, I don't think mom wants to come all the way here—” 

“Did I do something wrong?” Jack practically whimpered and Aaron was rendered speechless once more, his brows scrunching further. That just made the poor boy look even more disheartened. His round eyes practically bursting as he tried to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to offend. 

Aaron crossed the room to him in an instant, crouching down to his level as he sat at the dinner table finishing up on some school work. 

“You did nothing wrong, buddy,” he said, gently, making sure that the words settled. “I just don’t think we should ask your mom to come over for dinner when she just spent the week with you.”

“I don’t wanna invite mommy to dinner,” Jack corrected him, as if he’d been correct this entire time and it was his dad who was not getting it. “I wanna invite mom.”

It took Aaron a few seconds to blink away the misunderstanding, confusion twisting into shock. Jack had called you mom, Jack had just…called you mom. A smile crept up on Aaron’s lips, one that Jack matched instantly as he realized his dad had just understood him. 

“Do you want to call mom and invite her to dinner?” he asked the boy and he lit up like never before. Aaron pulled out his phone and immediately called you, putting it on speaker phone and handing the device over to Jack as he returned to the kitchen. 

“Hi, honey,” your voice was warm and inviting and he wanted nothing more than to respond to you, but he wanted to experience your shock, the shock that Jack had just given him, more than anything. 

“Mom!” Jack practically screamed into microphone.

“Hi, angel,” Aaron could hear you stifle a sob and he couldn’t help but tear up with you. 

“Hi!” Jack was too hyper, getting any words in difficult. “Dad’s making dinner!”

“What’s he making?”

“Dad!” Aaron couldn’t help the laugh that erupted, so much screaming, so much energy. He walked out of the kitchen and took the phone from the boy, turning off speakerphone before he addressed you.

“He’s making boxed Mac n Cheese with hot dogs,” Aaron replied, a smile in his voice. 

“Aaron—” you sobbed into his ear.

“I know, he got me too.”

“Did you know?”

“No,” he chuckled. “But I definitely do now.”

“Dad, give me back the phone!” Jack whined, pulling on Aaron’s arm until he could press his mouth to the microphone once more. “Can you come to dinner, please?” 

He stretched out that last word until he was gasping for breath, making both you and Aaron laugh. 

“Yes, angel, I’ll be there in a second, alright?” 

“Mmkay!” 

“I’ll see you soon, mom,” Aaron teased.

“I’m fully sobbing at a red light, just so you know,” you tried to make him feel bad but it honestly didn’t matter. Jack saw you as his mom, and nothing could take that away from you.

“I love you,” Aaron said. 

“I love you too.”

Jack was engrossed in his worksheet once he finally hung up the phone. Aaron watched him for a second, how his tongue stuck out of his mouth while he concentrated, how he gripped the pencil in his hand like it would somehow slip away, how all of his things had spread out across the table as if he quite literally owned the place. 

Jack had that effect on people, that easy way of taking over someone's heart in a way that only you could do as well. Aaron had been sure from the first time he introduced the two of you that you were soulmates, that he was meant to bring the two of you together.

Jack loved you so much it was overwhelming at times, his own kid clearly trying to one up him at every turn. But it didn't matter, Aaron knew Jack was your favorite, even if you constantly reassured him that you loved both your boys equally.

“Would you like her to be your mom forever?” He asked. 

Jack nodded enthusiastically, pencil dropping and attention back to his dad. “And ever and ever.”

Aaron smiled brightly, fully, like the sun had taken control of him and he couldn’t stop. It was a silent promise, a definitive choice, a reminder of the small velvet box he’d hidden in the back of his closet a few days ago.

“Do you want to help me ask her?”

jack is my perfect child and i would kill for him

requests are still open for hotch and i am trying to get to the ones i've received. it's taking me a second because of just how many other open projects i've got, but trust me, they will get done.

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @xladyxdreamer

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #show your fangs writes #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au

[adventuringblind]

A Little Sick

Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Sick fic

Summary: Carlos' struggle to take care of his girlfriend who's both sick and regressed. Lucky for him, he knows how to get her to nap.

Warnings: Agere/age-regression, non-sexual ageplay, non-sexual use of daddy, sinus infection, fear of doctors, mentions of past trauma

Notes: Haven't written for Carlos in so long T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Carlos knew the second he heard sniffling that something wasn't right. The way fatigue seems to drip from his lover didn't go unnoticed.

The problem is that was two weeks ago. She'd claimed allergies or a minor cold. Her disgust at anything having to do with sickness and doctors showing through her lack of acceptance.

Carlos has half a mind to just lay on top of her and force her to rest. Alternatively, if he could get her to regress, this would be immesley easier.

He can see her forcing herself not to. The delicate line between headspace getting blurrier with each day.

It's when she wakes up in tears, the Carlos knows something has to be done.

"Princessa?" He rolls her over and bundles her up into his arms. Her entire body is on fire and when he touches her face, she wails in pain. "We should go see a doctor, amor."

She's non-verbal all morning, trying desperately not to slip in headspace. Until Carlos finally take the initiative. He hates doing this, but he's been doing this long enough to see when she needs to slip and let Carlos take care of her.

Carlos starts small by picking out her clothes. Comfortable, obviously, since they are just going to the doctor. Then he puts her shoes on for her and ties the laces. By the time he's done, he can see the look in her eyes. The one that aches with the need for comfort. Desperate to not face the object of her nightmares.

Carlos grabs her comfort item and places it gently into her hands. He kneels down in front of her. "I won't leave you alone, okay? I'll be with you the entire time. Can you be brave for me?" She gives him a shy nod in response.

Carlos gets her into the car and buckles her seatbelt for her. He turns on soft music and she bobs her head along to the words. He coos at her with how adorable she looks at the moment.

She freezes up the second he pulls into the parking lot. The fear in her eyes says everything. She's on the verge of a breakdown, but Carlos is there to calm her. He holds her hand and helps her breathe before helping her out of the car.

He manages getting her checked in since she's still non-verbal and on the verge of tears. Eyes glassy with terror over being in the place she despises.

Carlos runs his fingers along her spine. "You're doing so good, carina."

She freezes when her name is called. Her body trembling in fear and squeezing the life out of Carlos' hand with her own. He swiftly wraps an arm around her and whispers into her ear some reassurance.

She doesn't say a word to the doctor, only watches him with suspicion. He ends up prescribing antibiotics and sending them on their way.

She wails the second they are in the safety of the car. All the nerves she'd been biting back finally able to burst free of their confines. Carlos has to get her to breathe. The hyperventilation nearly making her sick. He doesn't let go of her hand the entire way home.

He carries her inside, still sniffling from the overwhelming emotions from earlier. Carlos feels awful for having to put her through such a thing. The fact he knows full well why she hates it making it even harder to do.

He settles her on the couch. One he can see her from despite being in the kitchen and hastily throwing together soup. The television is playing her movie of choice. The background noise has become soothing to both of them.

He ends up having to feed her the soup himself. Not that he minds, it just means having to change her clothes afterwards. Which is no easy task considering she's deadweight in his arms. On purpose, mind you, but she's giggling about it, so Carlos makes no complaint.

Carlos puts the movie back on afterwards. Her head resting on his lap as she curls up on the couch. The mountain of blankets obscuring her body and stuffed animals she dutifully brough with her.

"I did good, papá?" Her squeaky voice carries from where the blankets muffle it.

Carlos keeps a steady rhythm, fingers running against her scalp in a comforting manor. The repetition has always put her to sleep within minutes. "The best, amor. Sleep now, the more you rest the sooner you'll get better." Ke kisses her forehead. Her eye's drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

#x reader #formula 1 #f1 fic #fanficion #f1 fanfic #racing #formula one #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz junior #cs55 #carlos sainz imagine #scuderia ferrari #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz ferrari #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 fluff #ferrari racing #ferrari #forza ferrari #ferrari formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 9 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: As Molly starts to warm up to the idea of being a mom, Bob just wants to take care of her every need. He wants to buy her gummy bears, feed her vegetables, and love her. But who will be there to help her when he can't be?

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swears, pregnancy, smut, 18+

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob stashed the ring for Molly deep in the back of his side of the closet alongside his duffle bag and other deployment items. She made it clear she didn't want that right now, so it didn't really matter if he did. He'd wait until...well, as long as it took. Because Molly was staying with him. And she was keeping the baby. 

He was going to be a dad. He always thought he'd be a pretty good dad, given the opportunity. And Molly hadn't let him down or disappointed him one tiny bit by giving him the opportunity. He knew he was patient and willing to listen. He was good with kids, and they liked him because he respected them. He was already getting excited about this. He could be a dad if Molly was with him. 

And now that he knew what had been bothering her, he would do anything to help make things easier. He was currently making her a bowl of oatmeal with a sliced up banana on top of it while she lounged on the couch. He heard her get up and run to the bathroom once, but she seemed to have calmed down substantially since earlier this afternoon when she finally told him she was pregnant. 

When he took the oatmeal and a glass of ginger ale with plenty of ice into the living room, she smiled up at him. "Thanks, Bobby," she murmured. 

He sat next to her, and when she crawled onto his lap with the bowl of her dinner, he held her tight while she took tiny bites. "Just go slow," he whispered, kissing her shoulder through his undershirt which she was wearing. "If it doesn't stay down, then it doesn't stay down. No harm done."

"I'm so hungry," she whined, biting into one of the banana slices. "It's so good!"

"If you eat your dinner, I have some gummy bears in the kitchen cabinet for you," he promised, and the way her eyes lit up made him laugh. 

"You really love me," she said before bursting into tears again. He took the bowl and set it down on the coffee table while she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Of course I love you, Mo. More than anyone else. Except maybe our baby. And you can always tell me when something's got you upset."

"I know," she said through her tears. "I just didn't want you to think I was a flake. Or worse, that I did this on purpose."

Bob would never think either of those things about her. Could never think that. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Molly. And it didn't actually take you getting pregnant for me to realize that."

She looked up at him as she swiped at her tears. "The rest of your life?"

"Yes," he confirmed as she reached out to adjust his crooked glasses. "All of it. I told you I want forever. And we can get married someday if you want to. And we'll have the baby together. I already thought of names." 

"Really?" she asked, leaning in to kiss his nose. "I just told you I'm pregnant a few hours ago. You already have names?"

"Yes," he said with a smile as he looked at how pretty she was.

Bob watched her lips part in surprise. "Shit. The only baby name I like is Everett! I told my sister to use it, and now I'm kind of pissed off about it!"

Bob started laughing as she reached for the bowl of oatmeal again. "Maybe we'll have a girl."

"We can name her Roberta."

He winced. "Please, no."

But she just shrugged as she took another bite of food. "We'll see." 

----------------------------

Molly decided that the best part of being pregnant was the fact that she could eat candy whenever she wanted without Bob giving her side eye. But the worst part of being pregnant was going to work. She was vomiting. A lot. Like several times per day. And she was decidedly losing weight, which her doctor told her was completely normal. But it didn't feel normal. 

When she looked in the mirror, she thought she looked disgusting. Her skin was dull, her eyes looked tired, and even her hair was suffering a bit. She was definitely bloated too. But Bob told her she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and she burst into tears. Because she believed him. 

She was so overly emotional. Thank goodness the asshole doctor was gone from emergency rotation now, because she would have completely lost it on him. And she was just so fucking hungry. Like it never stopped. But she also could barely eat anything. Which made her more emotional. 

She had been spending a lot of time with her sister. When she tried to apologize about having a meltdown while dress shopping, her sister wouldn't hear it. But Molly did feel bad that she had to buy the dress she was wearing while Molly had an emotional breakdown on the floor. 

"I don't care about the dress as much as I care about you and Bob and your unborn child. Now let me hug you, okay?" And the mom hugs felt so good. Molly was happy she could learn from the best mom hugger, because she was determined to give superior mom hugs herself one day soon. 

"Bobby?" she called out when she got home from work the Saturday before her sister's wedding. She was ravenous, but she also thought maybe she was horny? She and Bob hadn't successfully had sex in weeks, because she got too motion sick every single time. It was a travesty. A crime against humanity. She had the sexiest boyfriend in the world, and she couldn't even fuck him properly. 

"I'm in the extra bedroom, Mo."

She kicked off her shoes, something Bob hated, and she strolled down the hallway in her scrubs. When she poked her head inside the room, she saw him taking measurements. She really liked the way he tucked the pencil behind his ear when he wasn't using it. Yep, she was horny. 

"Hi," she whispered, and when he turned to face her, he collected her in his arms. 

"How was work, mommy?" he asked, and she couldn't help but smile. Ever since the first ultrasound appointment when they saw what looked like a lima bean inside her, he had taken to calling her that on occasion. 

"I only threw up four times."

His face looked genuinely happy for her. "Progress!"

"I hope the barfing ends soon, because I'd rather clean up other people's upchuck than my own."

Bob kissed her forehead, and she let herself melt against him. "You're going to be the best mom in the world," he whispered, and of course she felt her overly emotional tears welling up in her eyes. Because she wanted to be. She honestly wanted to be so good at it that she made herself proud. "I'll be really good at all the boring stuff, but Honey, you'll be so much fun."

"You're not boring, Coach Bob. But you're definitely not as fun as I am. What are you working on anyway? I thought you were going out with Ev and Coach Turd."

"I did," he replied. "We went out for breakfast."

"To the place with the sticky floor?" she asked, rubbing her nose along his neck because he smelled so good. 

"Yes. Your nephew loves it there. But now I'm trying to figure out where the crib is going to fit. And I hate to tell you this, I really do... but Mo, we need to get rid of at least two of our couches."

She burst into laughter. "I've been waiting for you to say that since I moved in, and I am honestly shocked you made it this long."

He smiled down at her. "They gotta go."

"I'll text Bradley and ask him to help you move them," she said. "He'll be so pissed about it, but he'll do it anyway." But then she noticed that he looked a little hesitant. "What? What's wrong."

He shook his head and just shrugged. "Well, I was thinking I'd kind of like a baseball theme?" he asked softly as his cheeks grew rosy. 

"A baseball theme?" she asked, looking up at his beautiful eyes that she hoped the baby would win the genetic lottery and get. 

"Yeah. Baseball. We could do pink if it's a girl. But if you hate it, then we can go with something else."

"Oh, for the nursery?" she asked him, tugging him closer for a kiss. "You already came up with ideas for a nursery theme? God, Bobby, you're too much. Perfect boyfriends get blowjobs whenever they want them." His cheeks flushed with a deeper color as she pulled him toward their bedroom. "But I can't even suck your dick right now without throwing up."

"Yeah," he said with a look of concern. "Let's not do that again."

She bit her lip and started to pull her scrub top over her head. "I just want to do something nice for you, because you've been taking care of me nonstop, Lieutenant Floyd. Inside and outside of the bedroom," she added as she removed her bra.

And that's all it took. Bob's lips were on her breasts immediately, and Molly was in heaven. He'd been giving her the most feather light touches and going down on her for weeks. He promised her a million times that he didn't need to have traditional intercourse with her. He assured her they didn't need to mess around at all since she was feeling so queasy. 

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she whispered as Bob ran his tongue along her piercing. She knew she'd have to remove them eventually, but for now, he was still enjoying himself. "And I think I feel okay. Will you let me try to ride you?"

The soft groan he made was scandalous as she untied her pants and let them slide down her legs. "We can try it, Honey. But if you're not feeling okay, use the safe word?"

Molly had to hold back her tears. "God, you're perfect. Now get undressed and get on the bed."

----------------------------

Bob was treated to everything he'd been missing as soon as Molly's pussy enveloped his cock. He was laying back against the pillows on their bed and holding her hands to offer her some extra support. It was entrancing, the way she bit her lip and moved her hips just ever so slightly, her fingers laced with his. He was supporting her as much as she needed him to, anticipating the way she was going to move. 

"Feel good, Bobby?" she whispered as she rode him in small yet fluid movements. 

He nodded, his glasses sliding down his nose as he felt her clench softly around him. "Molly," he moaned, letting his head tip back. "You don't feel nauseous or anything?"

"I'm okay," she promised, and very slowly, Bob sat up so she was straddling his thighs while she rode him. He pressed a kiss to the swell or her breast, wrapping his hands around her hips. 

As Bob stroked her soft skin with his thumbs, he kissed her lips and whispered, "Honey. You have a little baby bump."

"Do I?" she asked, pausing her movements to look down at her body. "I thought I was just bloated?"

Bob eased one hand along her belly in complete awe and let his fingers splay over her navel. "It's a bump."

When she looked up and met his eyes, she looked so excited. Bob couldn't be happier that she seemed to be warming up to the idea of parenting with him more each day. "It's a bump!" she gasped. "I feel like it's kind of early to be showing?"

Bob shrugged, his cock still hard and buried deep inside her pussy. He moaned softly against her neck as he felt her clench. "Not too early. And it's not that noticeable except that you're naked and right here with me. And Molly... I'm so excited."

Then her lips were on his, and her fingers were in his hair. She was kissing him so hard, she took his breath away, and each little movement of her hips felt heavenly. She kissed him and rode him while he praised her. It was intoxicating the way she just owned him, but Bob didn't let himself cum until she had. The soft roll of her hips and the long buildup left her screaming and shaking in his grasp, pawing at his chest. 

"I love you," she told him, lips pressed to his ear. "I love you." And Bob had no choice in the matter. He filled her up, let himself cum inside the woman he loved, too. 

When they both ended up in the bathroom to get cleaned up, he watched Molly turn every which way in front of the mirror, examining herself. 

"It really is a bump," she whispered, running her small hand along her belly. "Oh my god. Bob," she gasped, turning to look at him. "I'll be huge soon."

He just grinned and kissed her shoulder. "I can't wait."

-------------------------

Molly tried not to laugh. She tried her damndest. But as she stood in the living room eating a bag of Cheetos and watching Bob and Bradley struggle with one of the couches, she was literally cackling. 

"This is the heaviest fucking thing in the world," Bradley complained, glaring in her direction. "If I get injured two days before my wedding, your sister is going to be pissed. And if Bob gets injured, the rec league will be out a center fielder."

"You're such a turd," she said, chewing on her snack. "You'll both be fine. And hey, maybe this is just a wakeup call. Maybe you both need to hit the gym a little harder."

Now they were both glaring at her as sweat dripped down their faces. 

"Okay, okay," she said, licking her cheesy fingers. "I'll babysit Ev for you one night to say thank you. And you can go do whatever freaky shit you like to do with my sister."

"Appreciated," Bradley grunted. And then she got to sit and watch them force it through the front door of the condo. 

After both couches were out, Bob came back inside, wiping his forehead with the hem of his tee shirt. Molly hadn't been feeling great all day. The Cheetos were the only thing she seemed to be able to keep down, but she dragged Bob back to the bedroom anyway. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, fixing his glasses on the way. 

"Nothing, Bobby. My stomach is upset, but I'm horny at the same time," she replied, taking off all her clothes and laying out on the bed with her fingers on her piercings. "Take care of me."

She didn't have to wait long at all. Bob stripped down to his underwear and helped Molly up to the middle of the bed. Then he had her legs spread wide and his mouth was on her pussy. His broad shoulders were digging into her thighs as he licked her with one long stripe before looking up at her face. Molly was already panting and needy.

"I won't be rough at all. But you let me know if I'm doing something you don't like."

"God, Bobby! Just lick my pussy!" she whined, wiggling herself against his mouth as he grinned. 

"Anything you want," he promised before licking and sucking on her like she was the best thing he'd ever tasted. She was rolling her hips gently, enthralled by the smooth metal of his glasses on the insides of her thighs. 

"Coach Bob," she whined as he nibbled gently on her clit. "Good job, Coach."

But now Bob was grinding against the bed, and Molly was so close she was seeing stars. When she came with her hands on her nipples, Bob lifted up his wet face from his feast and pulled his cock free from his underwear. With a loud groan and five short strokes, Molly squealed in delight as he came all over her pussy and belly. She praised him as his cum hit her thighs. She reached for his hand and kissed his fingers as the last white ribbon landed on her flower tattoos.

"So hot," she gasped, holding his hand as she watched her boyfriend run his tongue through the mess he made. And then so gently, so as not to put any pressure on her belly, Bob braced himself on his elbow and kissed her. She licked all of his cum into her own mouth and whimpered. "I love you so much."

"You know," he replied, kissing her softly, "there was a time it would have hurt my feelings to hear you say that after I got you off."

She shook her head and cupped his face. "No, Bobby. I love you."

"I know it, Mo."

---------------------------

Bob didn't think he could be so relaxed the night before his own wedding. But Bradley was sitting on one of the two remaining couches in the condo, drinking a beer and watching a baseball game. Everett was laying with his head on the cushion, trying to stay awake, and Bob was on the other couch missing Molly. 

He kept texting her, and she was occasionally responding while she spent the night with her sister. When she sent a selfie of her smiling face, Bob softly said, "I bought a ring."

Bradley's attention was on him immediately, fully ignoring the game. "For Molly?"

"Yes."

"Did you propose?" he asked, glancing down to confirm that Everett was asleep.

"She told me not to."

Bradley's brow creased. "Like she told you to never propose to her? What the hell, man? She loves you. And you got her pregnant."

He sighed deeply. "I know. But she told me she'd tell me when she's ready. If she's ever ready."

"Damn," Bradley whispered. "I'll have a talk with her. I'm kind of attached to the idea of you as my brother-in-law."

Bob laughed and then groaned. "Please don't say anything to her. I'd be embarrassed. And you seem to trigger her anyway. She calls you a turd all the time."

"I'm pretty sure she means it with love behind it though?" Bradley asked, scratching his mustache.

"Probably. I have the feeling that you wouldn't be getting married tomorrow if Molly didn't approve of you."

"Shit," Bradley mumbled, looking alarmed now. "You're totally fucking right. I should be nicer to her? I never really wanted an annoying little sister, but here we are. No offense."

"None taken," Bob replied. Nothing about Molly was annoying to him. And it was almost a relief the way he knew Molly's sister and Bradley were close by and were protective of her. "You're getting the full package tomorrow. A wife, a stepson, and an annoying little sister."

Bradley shook his head. "You're getting a kid, too. And Molly will come around to the idea of getting married. But even if she doesn't, she's still yours."

Bob nodded. But what a concept. Molly was with him, but she couldn't be tamed. He wouldn't want to have a tame Molly anyway. She was ethereal. Otherworldly. A beautiful deviant. "Actually... I'm hers."

------------------------

Molly drove all over the place the day of the wedding. Her sister was being a bit of a diva about not getting any cookie crumbs on her wedding dress, but Molly was starving. She swore her bump had grown over the past week, and while Bob thought it looked cute, Molly thought she might try eating some vegetables. For the baby and for her. 

"I'm nervous."

Molly turned and gaped at her sister until she was scolded about watching where she was driving. "Why? What is there to be nervous about? Bradley is going to love you and your dress and all of it."

"I'm not nervous about that," she replied, looking out the window. "I'm nervous about later tonight. After the wedding and the ballgame."

Molly snorted. "You're nervous about your wedding night? What, is Bradley's dick suddenly too big for you or something? God, you really need to stop telling me about your sex life."

"No!" she replied, shaking with laughter. "I'm nervous about asking him if he wants to adopt Everett."

"Seriously? I'd be even less nervous about that than the actual wedding or the obligation you have to fuck Bradley all night. He's going to say yes to adopting Ev. He's going to shout it from the rooftops!"

"I hope so."

"And I know so. Because even though he's annoying half the time, he's proven his loyalty. He even came over and moved my couches with Bob again after he swore up and down that he wouldn't. And he's way more devoted to Ev than he is to Bob and I. Like, the man already basically is Ev's dad. Just let him have it on a piece of paper."

And then she started crying, and Molly almost drove off the side of the road.

"Stop! You'll wreck your makeup! You'll get mascara on your dress."

"I can't help it," she whispered. "I didn't know I could be with someone who loved Everett, too."

"For real," Molly mumbled, pulling into the lot at Petco Park. "Now I need to fix your face." 

And even though she was grumbling the whole time, she did fix the makeup disaster pretty well. When her sister reached out and said, "You have a tiny bump," Molly smiled as she put the cap on the lipstick. 

"I thought I was just bloated. I can't wait to find out if it's a boy or a girl. But I'm telling you right now, either way, the baby might get named Everett."

She started laughing again as they walked toward the ballfield together. "You pretty much named Everett for me, because I was high on pain medication and Danny was nowhere to be found."

Molly squeezed her hand and said, "I was more than happy to be there that day."

But when her sister stopped, Molly turned to look at her. "I know you think I somehow hit the lottery. Like I got this amazing upgrade from Danny to Bradley. And maybe that's true. But you're never going to have to worry about that. You struck gold right out of the gate. And I'm happy for you, Molly. I love you. And I love Bob. But damn, I wish you weren't comparing yourself to me. Because you're doing everything right all by yourself."

Molly stood there as her eyes filled with tears, running her hand over the navy blue dress that hugged her belly. She let the words soak into her skin and fill her up. "Thanks," she whispered. "We both did okay. It's time for you to get married."

As Molly stood on the alarmingly green grass near home plate, Bob had his arm around her and his chin resting on her head. The wedding vows were beautiful and so fitting, and Everett looked delighted by everything that was going on. And it was quiet and sweet and wholesome and private. And Molly thought maybe she'd definitely like to do this someday with Bob. Probably in a meadow of wildflowers while Bob held their child. 

"I love you," Molly whispered to him as she closed her eyes and turned to press her cheek against his strong chest. 

The rest of the ceremony was perfect. And the reception in the fancy owners suite was perfect. Molly ate nachos and soft pretzels until she was afraid she was going to pop. 

"Bob?" she asked. "I should probably be eating like a vegetable or something?"

He just laughed and pulled her close as she licked some nacho cheese off the side of her hand. "Honey, it's honestly probably a good idea. I'll cook you whatever you want. I'll make all the vegetables for you later tonight."

Molly moaned softly as she lured Bob closer to the corner of the suite, away from Nat and everyone else. "Will you feed them to me in bed while you fuck me?" she asked, looking up at him sweetly as his hands came to rest on her belly.

"Can you be quiet? Ev is spending the weekend with us."

"I don't know, Lieutenant Bobby. Maybe you'll have to gag me."

Bob was staring at her as Everett himself came running over to give Molly a hug, and she bent to kiss his cheek. "I can't wait for our sleepover," she whispered. "Don't tell your mom."

"I won't!" he promised, all smiles as he had clearly just had the best day of his little life. Molly watched him run back over to Bradley who immediately picked him up and smothered him in kisses.

"Are you going to be like that?" Molly asked Bob, pointing to where Bradley was laughing with Everett like they were in their own little world.

"Probably worse," he admitted with a smile of his own. 

--------------------------

Labor Day weekend had been perfect. Bob had taken Everett on a hike on Sunday morning so Molly could sleep in. Then they stopped at the beach and collected shells before picking up lunch and taking it back to eat with her. Monday consisted of a trip to the zoo and some back to school shopping, because Everett would be starting second grade later that week.

And when Molly left to drive Everett home on Monday night, Bob finally had some time to clean up the condo. He wiped down the kitchen counters, loaded the dishwasher and vacuumed. And the entire time, he thought about how his baby was approximately the size of a plum. And then for a split second, he thought Plum Floyd would be a cute name for a girl. And then he spiraled into a daydream where the baby was a girl with Bob's hair and Molly's eyes. He couldn't wait to find out what they were having.

Then he stood at the counter and started to sort through the mail. And there it was. A notice of deployment. He hadn't seen a deployment since January. He should have been expecting it. But he had become so caught up in Molly and the baby and how full his life felt... that he didn't have time for these thoughts to creep in. 

October first. He was going to miss the ultrasound that would tell them if it was a boy or a girl. But at least he'd be back before Molly's birthday and Thanksgiving. At least there was that. 

He was still holding the letter when Molly unlocked the front door and strolled inside. "Can you believe I'm kind of craving a celery stick? I'll have to dunk it in ranch dressing, but I'm craving the crunch, you know? The baby loves crunchy."

"Mo."

His voice sounded like a warning, even to his own ears. And Molly turned to look at him at the kitchen counter with parted lips and wide eyes. "What?" she asked softly, staring at him like she'd done something wrong. 

Bob rushed for her, wrapping her up in a hug. The urge to tear up the letter and pretend he'd never seen it was strong, but his desire to be the best he could be for his family was even stronger. 

"I'm deploying. On October first."

And then he had to watch Molly's face crumble into tears. He had to listen to her sobbing for the first time since the day she told him she was pregnant. He had to hold back his own despair, knowing he'd have to be strong for both of them. 

---------------------------

Everyone is getting deployed? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 10

@theamuz

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

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@je-suis-prest-rachel

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#bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fic #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd smut #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #the curveball #batting practice #roosterforme

[piratefishmama]

Forgiven not Forgotten | Part 3

Steve shared his shower with Robin.

He did for two years, watched her six while she watched his, there were no boundaries between them now.

At first, perhaps there’d been a quiet “don’t look at my boobs” from Robin, with Steve firing back “don’t look at my dick” which earned a very much expected “why would I look at your dick, Steve?” They’d fire quips back and forth until they were clean and ready to go. It was rare in the aftermath of the earthquake that they got showers, water had run out so quickly.

People assumed it was burst pipes.

It wasn’t. The government had cut them off. Barricaded them in, would have probably nuked the place or something had Eleven not been a continual menace to the military presence that lingered for the first year. Couldn’t get shit within half a mile of her without it being redirected elsewhere. They were still in there, they were still fighting.

They weren’t going down without taking that walking nightmare of a thing with them.

Steve still shared his shower with Robin.

Even at the house, the comforts of modern society feeling foreign, hot water burned for a moment, but in a way that seeped into their bones leaving them loose limbed and floaty, in a way that left them lightheaded when they stepped out, but laughing at the absurdity of how they never thought they’d forget what hot water felt like.

His parents weren’t kidding about the food either, after showers were had and clothes were changed, a feast of quick bite foods were laid out onto the modest kitchen table. Finger sandwiches that his mother seemed to be making at rapid speed, cocktail sausages, cheese, things they could grab and snack on quick.

It struck Steve a little stupid for a moment, just watching his mother there, two completely unrelated young adults stuffing their faces while his mother worked diligently to feed them.

It'd been a long time since he’d seen his mother doing anything in the kitchen. A long time since she’d been anywhere but following his father around, attempting to catch him in the act of adultery.

“Best grab something quick, kids, we’re meeting Harold at the hospital in an hour.”

“Harold?” Why did that name sound familiar? Robin didn’t question it like Steve did, content to hurry into a spot not occupied to gorge herself on finger foods to leave Steve running the name over in his head on his own. Groaning in delight over the cucumber sandwiches. Such simple things. She’d never take cucumber for granted ever again.

“Closest lawyer we have on the books thats any use, your father is in the living room on the phone with him now, he’s commuting from Indianapolis to meet us there.” Once again he found himself shocked. Who were these people?

“You’re actually…” they were actually going to help? Don’t question it, don’t question it, it’d just go away if he questioned it, just— “I’m sorry, but you’re actually going to help?”

Lynda paused in her sandwich spree, those gorging themselves on finger foods already prepared pausing momentarily as the atmosphere thickened with that one question. He didn’t believe it. Not for one second, he hadn’t believed that his parents would actually help. He’d just put the kids into the car because he knew it was better than staying at that hospital.

He knew a break from the sterile white walls, a break from the crying families, from the loss and pain around them, he knew a break from it would do the kids good.

“Robin… would you… would you take over for a moment, please?”

“Huh?” Robin startled, eyes darting to Lynda, before she stumbled out of her seat to take Lynda’s place “s-sure, yeah, got it.”

“Come with me, Steven.” She untied the apron from around her waist and hung it on a small hook by the door as she walked by, wordlessly, with the kids eyes on his back, he followed her out of the kitchen, out of the back door, into the spacious back yard where she stopped on the decking, her arms wrapped around her torso, fingers clutching her own biceps as she just. Looked out into the garden.

He closed the back door behind him.

“What’s going on, mom?” He half expected to be berated, how could he question her in front of people, make her look bad as though she wouldn’t help. How dare he allude to the idea that she wasn’t the perfect parent around people. What would they think?!

That wasn’t what he got. “…Do you remember when you were small?” He frowned a little, expression scrunching in confusion, she let out a soft huff of sad, short laughter at his lack of an answer. “No, I suppose you might not. Steven… we lost you. Your father and I. We didn’t mean to, but we did. There’s no excuse for it, nothing I say here can excuse letting my son disappear, so many should haves, could haves, and would haves. I could say we were young, stupid, didn’t have experience with a child to know what to do, but… it was as though one minute you were there, our bright, perfect little ball of sunshine, and the next…” she shook her head “you weren’t there anymore. Or you were, you were there, but— but that sunshine was gone. And we didn’t try to get you back. We didn't know where to begin looking, so we didn't.”

Steve swallowed hard, eyes diverting to the ground, that… wasn’t what he expected at all. He remained silent. Jaw clenched tight. He remembered. Of course he remembered. Remembered feeling wrong. Feeling dirty, gross, feeling… unclean.

Feeling like his parents had betrayed him by letting him be himself. By not nipping what people deemed wrong in the bud before it’d had chance to bloom.

For setting him up for heartbreak.

It wasn’t their fault. None of it was their fault. Time had just moved too quickly to fix what one stupid boy had so carelessly broken in him.

“Like I said, there’s no excuse… there’s nothing I can say that’d make up for letting you suffer like that, letting you suffer on your own instead of just… being there for you. Or trying harder to be there when I could have been, when your father and I could have been, I spent so long chasing him thinking… it doesn’t matter what I thought. It was stupid. I let stupid people feed my own stupid insecurities. But… we promised… we made a promise when we moved here, that if you came home… we’d try.”

“You’d try?” He failed to keep the waver out of his voice, she turned to look at him, a sadness in her gaze that seemed endless.

“To be there, in any way we could be, to stop just leaving you, to try and understand. I know it’s a little late to be your parents at this point, Steven… we missed you growing up, and now you’re grown, and the things you’ve been though… you don’t need us telling you how to live your life. We missed that chance to be impossibly overbearing and that’s entirely on us. But we still want you to know that we’re here… we’re not leaving you alone anymore. So, whatever you need… be it a roof over your head, a meal, or… or getting your friend out of a tight situation with the law then… we’re here. We’re going to help, and we’ll use every resource we have to do it.”

What did one say to that? How could he speak without his voice breaking? Without all those bubbling feelings overflowing? She was right, time had passed, too much had passed to simply ignore, and old wounds would always be there until he figured out a way to close them.

He never claimed to be emotionally mature. In fact he was usually pretty useless when it came to emotions.

Always feeling too much, never knowing how to control it.

So he breathed in sharply through his nose, and turned his head, swallowing harshly, jaw clenched, eyes stinging as he blinked away the water rapidly gathering, and he nodded. Nodded as she uttered a quiet “oh sweetheart” and crossed the short distance between them to wrap him up in her arms, wrapped his own arms around her and simply held on tight.

“Steven, your—” John cut into the moment unintentionally as he walked out into the back garden, but it didn’t break them apart, he offered a small smile to the two of them after taking the sight in, holding the wireless handset in his hand “It’s Nancy, she says the doctors are bringing Eddie out of his coma, she says they’ll wait for us, but we should head out. Harold will probably be there by the time we arrive too.”

“Right… right, okay” he wiped the side of his palm over his eyes, dragging the dampness away. He released a shaky breath, and then let his mother go. “Alright.” Time to face the man of the hour.

Part 5

#PirateWrites #ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet #Steddie #Post!S5 #Mentions of Kas Eddie #Hurt/Comfort #Miscommunication