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queerpumpkinnn · 9 months

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Trial and Error

1.6k words

Summary: Your new boyfriend Eddie finds out that you've been faking orgasms. He makes it his mission to make sure you don't have to.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content obviously, reader has insecurities about orgasming/not being able to, masturbation (reader, afab but pronouns are not used), brief choking (reader to self), heaps of praise and pet names, voyeurism, let me know if there needs to be anything else!

A/N: Is this self indulgent? Yes no

Part One - Part Two

One hour.

It had been the most blissful hour of your life, but it increasingly became more frustrating as it went on.

Eddie hovered over you, pile driving his cock into you with force that had prompted him to place an extra pillow behind your head when it had knocked against the headboard a while earlier. One of his arms propped him up onto his elbow, the other toying with one of your nipples. His pubic bone was brushing your clit with each push of his hips, and his mouth was latched onto your other nipple dutifully.

So why couldn't you orgasm?

In theory, Eddie was doing everything right. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with him, and you did feel good, it just wasn't building like it was supposed to, you couldn't get that push to tip over the edge. You'd managed to get yourself there on your own, but Eddie, skillful as he was, wasn't you. He couldn't feel exactly what you felt, he relied on reaction. You'd tried giving him directions, from which he learned well, but when they fell just short of getting you to orgasm, you stopped trying to adjust, not wanting to feel nit-picky or difficult.

And so eventually you'd fallen into a habit of pretending to orgasm. It was easy at first, when you were still testing the waters. When he'd fingered you and you couldn't orgasm, you faked it, brushing it off thinking that you just needed his mouth. A few weeks later, when he added his mouth, you brushed it off again, resigning to believe that only his dick would do the job.

And here you were, with his dick inside you for the first time, and you were back where you'd found yourself all those times before. Still hitting that brick wall you couldn’t get over.

You knew deep down that you should just tell Eddie. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to make you feel good. But after time you'd simply given up on it. You still felt good, you thought, and that was good enough.

The thought seemed overwhelmingly clear now, and for some reason that escaped you, it pricked at your waterline.

Glancing over at the clock, you entertained the act again. You took a fistful of his hair, arched your back with a loud, gasping "Fuck, Eddie" and deliberately clenched your pussy around him. You felt his hips stutter, then still as he pulled out. You watched as he fisted his cock a few times, spilling his cum over your stomach. The muscles tensed with the foreign sensation.

You opened your eyes, watching Eddie hovering over you, panting, and you felt your pussy throb. That was only more frustrating.

A moment of silence fell over the two of you, the hot smell of sex thick in the air. You assume Eddie believes you came, until you note the slightly perplexed expression on his face, staring at your collarbone as he was lost in thought, rolling something around in his head. He seems to have concluded the thought with a sigh out his nose, leaning up to kiss you sweetly.

"Feeling good?" He muttered, grinning into your mouth.

"Mhm," you sighed between kisses. "Hardest I've ever come." This was, in fact, total bullshit.

At that, Eddie stopped, pulled away to see your face. "Really?"

You nodded. He shrugged. "That's strange, because I didn't feel it at all."

You froze.

He popped his lips, giving you a sympathetic smile. "I wasn't sure at first, thinking you just didn't have much of a physical reaction when you came. Was still unsure just asking now, but your reaction gives it away."

The wind seemed to be knocked out of you, opting to watch your hand play with his hair than look him in the eye.

"I'm not mad, sweetness, I just don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." Your voice was small. "I think...I think I just didn't want to be a bother. I tried telling you stuff to make it better but it still wasn't working- not that you're doing anything wrong!" you added quickly when he blinked at you. "So I just stopped."

"Honey, you know I'm glad to go to whatever lengths are needed to make you orgasm, and if you don't I'm not doing my job." He was earnest in his words, and it made your heart both swell with love and sink with guilt.

"I know. I just feel bad when you've been eating me out for half an hour and I'm no closer to an orgasm than I was twenty minutes ago."

Eddie sighed, pecking your cheek and sitting up on his calves. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, bubs. I genuinely do not care, in the nicest way possible. You need hours? I've got all the time in the world. You need a specific technique? Show me what to do. I don't care if getting you to orgasm takes a little more work, I'd rather take the time to learn than have you pretend for my sake."

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time with love. You sat up and pulled his face towards yours, kissing him with as much adoration and gratitude as you could muster.

"Sweetness?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been able to make yourself cum?"

You mumbled an 'mhm', in between kisses.

"I have an idea." He pulled away, eyes now sparked with determination. "I want you to get in whatever position you normally do when you touch yourself."

When he pulled back, you were still for a moment. It took his raising of an eyebrow and gentle gesture to snap you out of it, shifting your weight and the pillows until you lay comfortably on your back.

"Good." Eddie adjusted himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, face level with your pussy. "Now, show me how it's done."

Your jaw nearly fell open. "Eddie..."

Eddie tilted his head, searching for signs of hesitancy on your face. After a moment of stunned silence you began to move, both hands reaching for your tits. Groping, massaging, pinching, caressing. Slowly, so slowly, pulling soft hitches of breath followed by sighs each time. You felt your eyelids flutter closed, partly from the sensation you were losing yourself in, partly from slight embarrassment.

Your left hand traveled up to your neck, soft caresses over your jaw and pulse point before finding the pressure points that had your brain turning fuzzy and a low, breathy noise rumbling in your throat. The right hand found the flesh of your thigh, groping it softly before alternating with your ass.

Eddie chuckled softly. "Didn't know you grabbed your own ass, pretty."

You felt your cheeks warm. "I usually just imagine you doing whatever I'm doing, so..."

"Do you?" Even with your eyes closed you could see the ego-inflated grin pulling his lips back. "Good, that's good. Show me what you picture me doing."

You continued like that for a moment, just feeling around your body. Your middle finger traced the junction between your thigh and your cunt, making your body tense with excitement.

When your eyes had had the courage to open again, they met a lovely sight. Eddie was crouched dutifully down in front of you, hungry and lust-blown eyes noting every slight movement of your hand, gaze flicking from one had to the other, to your face, to your pussy on display in front of him.

Nearly shaking in anticipation, you reached down gingerly to graze a fingertip against the spot right above your clit, which had your hips following your hand when it left.

A soft breath was pulled from you at the action, but it turned into a choked gasp when your finger finally pressed down towards where slick had gathered. You opted to sift it around, collecting it on your fingertips before sliding them up to your clit, a firm, slow swipe making you let out a weak sound.

Once you found a rhythm, you opened your eyes. Eddie was staring intently at your motions, trying to burn every little motion into his brain, wanting to memorize the exact shape you drew into your body. His eyes flicked up to your face every so often, but when they caught on that you were staring, they lingered. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands caressing the backs of your thighs, a motion intended to be soothing but instead sent shivers into your skin in its wake.

"Eddie..." you sighed, motions increasing in intensity. Through your growing desperation you managed to stay slow, keeping yourself on edge.

The boy in question groaned into your skin. The idea that he'd asked you to show him exactly what you did when you were alone and that this was what you thought to do. Say his name. That was what came naturally, that was what fueled your desire. Him.

It didn't go unnoticed that your soft moans were getting louder, airier, higher pitched. Eddie reached his hands under you to grip your ass, caressing and squeezing the flesh.

"Good, good." Eddie murmured.

"Fuck, say that again," you gasped.

"What? That you're doing so good? So good for me, yeah? Look fuckin' perfect, 'n I can smell you from here. Christ baby, sound like a damn song, sound so pretty."

Your fervent motions plus Eddie's soft touches and sex-incarnate voice all tipped you over that sticky sweet edge. This orgasm didn't barrel into you, rather, it washed over you, warmth coursing over you from your core outwards. It felt like euphoria.

When you came down and opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you with a stupid but awestruck look.

"Well, there's no going back, 'cause I can definitely tell the difference now."

@lovinvane

Part One - Part Two

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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hiraethwrote · 21 days

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just come home pt. 2 - satoru gojo

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[satoru gojo - f!reader] ✧ summary: dealing with the breakup has been hard for the both of you, and it doesn't help when your randomly bump into each other ✧ cw: angst, some fluff, denial, slight intoxication, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 3.6k

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

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35 days has passed since he had last seen you, let alone heard your voice and he never knew he could miss something so much. The first week after everything had went down, he had blown up your phone in hopes you two could talk it through. But he hadn’t been so lucky, as he was sent straight to voicemail every time.

He was dying to know how you were doing, wondering if you were as miserable without him as he found himself to be without you. Every time he stepped into the abandoned apartment, the scene of you leaving him played over and over in his head. It wasn’t until your friend had picked up all your stuff he realised how imprinted you were in the apartment. It didn’t feel like home to him anymore.

The apartment was, in theory, Satoru’s. In the beginning, you spent the night every now and then. But the relationship was just so intense, quickly escalating to spending the night, every night. Eventually you both figured it was just better you moved in, so you wouldn’t have to travel in between places for small necessities. As time went on, your stuff and decor brought new life to the place, something he had wanted for a long time but never taken the time to do. But now every trace of your time in his apartment was erased and he couldn’t stand being there.

“She’s not telling me anything, Satoru,” Suguru sighed as he was continuously begging him to spill whatever he had heard from you. Throughout your relationship, it was only natural for you to get to know his friends. Therefore, Suguru had reached out to you once he learned what had happened. But much to Satoru’s dismay, you gave short replies, only answering out of pure politeness.

“She’s a chatty person, I find it hard to believe she’s sending you one-word texts.”

With a sigh, Suguru threw his phone at him, taking Satoru by surprise. “Have a look for yourself.” Suguru didn’t have to ask him twice as he instantly entered the texts exchanged between the two of you. Not only did you answer shortly, but you took your sweet time sending any form of reply. But once he saw the last message he had received from you was yesterday, his heart did a small jump. It was the first sign he’d seen himself that you were even alive.

y/n: doing fine. hope you have a nice weekend too :)

His eyes kept staring at the small screen, fighting the urge to start typing anything just to be in contact with you. After a while, he reluctantly handed the phone back to Suguru.

“Happy now?” Suguru asked, earning him a cold glare from Satoru. “If I’m gonna be honest, I thought the two of you had been having issues for a while.” His glare instantly softened and his entire demeanour had changed into one of pure sadness.

“Come again?”

“You can’t be serious, Satoru?” Suguru asked tauntingly, his voice dripping with disappointment. “You hate work. I thought the first time you volunteered to stay after a meeting, you guys had been fighting and you were just being petty.”

“I’m not petty,” Satoru raced to defend himself.

“That’s beside the point!” Suguru said, rolling his eyes. “You know how you can get. I thought you just wanted to piss her off, but it kept happening. I tried asking you about it, but you just brushed it off every time.”

“I’m telling you, we were fine. There were no issues!”

“You keep saying that, but something changed. Satoru, do you remember the last time Shoko or I begged you to shut up about her?” Now that Suguru mentioned it, Satoru began to think about what Suguru had said and realised he was making a point.

He felt as if his heart was breaking all over again, to hear how even his friends had managed to pick up on his blatant disregard for his girlfriend, but it had managed to slip right by him. And because of that, the image of you, choked with tears because of him was forever burned into his mind.

“I just really want her back!” He stuttered, clearly in despair which caught Suguru off guard. For all the times Satoru had explained the situation to his friends, he had never really let his emotions show to anyone. He kept all that locked up until he was sound in his bed, when he couldn’t keep it together anymore. Nearly every night since you’d left, he fell asleep crying.

“It’s not like you deserve it.”

Satoru scoffed. “I never meant for this to happen, Suguru." He really didn’t appreciate his closest friend going against him on the matter, even though he was fully aware it was what he deserved.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” his friend shrugged. “But it did. This is the bed you made, it’s time you lay in it.” Every word that left Suguru’s mouth was entirely true, and Satoru hated himself for it. Ever since he last saw you, he had tried to convince himself this wasn’t his fault, that there was no way for him to have seen this coming. But every time he went down that road, he came to the same conclusion that he could have avoided it a hundred times over.

Satoru was definitely blaming himself enough, to the point where he was in no mood to sit there and listen to his friend spew statements of how badly he screwed up, so he got up from his seat and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t even bother answering Suguru, as he slammed the door behind him as he left.

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It had been the longest and most dreadful 35 days of your life. Luckily, your friend had been kind enough to open her home to you and put absolutely no pressure for you to leave anytime soon.

She’d been asleep when you came banging on her door in the middle of the night, extremely confused at first when you had just collapsed into a bundle of sobs on her living room floor. Once she’d wiped the sleep out of her eyes, she had managed to decipher your broken words into a coherent narrative about how you and Satoru had broken up.

The first week was definitely the worst, huddled up on her couch in a blanket, only getting up to go to the bathroom. She had provided you with whatever you needed; ice cream, movies and takeout. You name it, and she brought it.

You were thankful she’d just let you have some time to be a complete mess before being forced to deal with life again. So after the first week, she started to pull you out of you comfort zone in order for you to start a healing process. At first, she just had you help her cook dinner, then she brought you along to shop for groceries. Before you knew it, you found yourself doing your makeup again which seemed like a huge step. Finally you were putting in some effort in making yourself feel a little better. It felt like a breath of fresh air when you returned to a form of normalcy.

That didn’t mean it hurt any less. In the moments you found yourself thinking about your relationship — past relationship — the sadness struck you all over again, and it didn’t seem like it would fade away just yet. But it had at least become manageable, and it was nice falling asleep without sobbing to the point where you couldn’t breathe.

Finally, your progress had resulted in the first social outing since the breakup. Your friend had been invited to a barbecue, and she had begged for you to join her. After some convincing, you decided it would actually be nice to go out and meet some people and regain some of the social life you had lost.

That’s how you found yourself in the grocery store, trying to find anything to bring to the barbecue, not wanting to come empty handed. You stopped your search when you felt a pair of eyes staring at you. Turning to face the person, you immediately froze, your breath hitching in your throat.

A few feet from you, Satoru was standing, his mouth slightly hanging open. You felt your heart begin to race, banging against your chest like a hummingbird.

Time stood still as you both stared at each other, wondering who would be the one to break the ice first. Wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort, you tightened your grip to contain the overwhelming feelings filling your body.

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“You didn’t see his face, y/n. I mean, he has never been embarrassed like that before,” Satoru laughed. He had his arm tossed over your shoulders, while your arm was wrapped around his waist, stumbling down the deserted street. It was definitely not unlike the two of you to leave a party early, as you both much more preferred only each others company.

“Why didn’t you come and get me?” You whined. “I would have loved to see a girl get Suguru all flustered.”

“I mean, she was hot too. Way out of his league.” With the hand resting in his waist, you pinched hard.

“Watch it mister!” You growled, but in reality you were chocking back the drunk giggle that was bubbling up inside you. “If she was so hot, why don’t you go see if she wants to join you for the night.” You shrugged his arm off your shoulders, and released your grip on him. However, he was quick to grab ahold of your hand again and pulled you towards him so you collided with his chest.

“Oh, don’t be like that, pretty girl.” His voice was teasing you, clearly not taking your fake anger seriously. He wrapped one arm around your waist, making it impossible for you to pull away. The other hand grabbed your face before he began to place a bunch of kisses all over your face.

“Satoru!” You squealed in between giggles. Pressing your hands against his chest, you tried to push him away and get out of his grip, but to no prevail.

“What? You don’t want my kisses?” He pouted, loosening his grip, but you remained close to him. “Maybe that girl is interested in them instead?.” His eyes were so soft as he looked down on you, a small genuine smile dancing on his lips. Even with his playful attitude, you had zero concern he would even consider going back to her.

“You’re a funny guy, aren’t you?” You hooked your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes leaning in closer.

“I think I'm hilarious.” Your nose brushed against his, your lips only an inch apart. His hot breath touched your skin, and his eyes travel your face.

“What makes you think she’d even go for you, darling?” His head fell back in laughter, as you flashed him a huge grin, still hanging on around his neck.

“Suguru’s a handsome guy. If I were her-“

“Shut up,” Satoru cut you off before he finally connected his lips with yours in a sweet and passionate kiss. The butterflies went wild as you felt him smile into the kiss. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You’re the only girl I have eyes for.” He said after he reluctantly pulled away.

“Keep it that way,” you giggled before pulling him in for another kiss.

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It was strange to see him again, and a new sensation of melancholy entertained you. From the second you’d left his apartment, you began to picture what it would be like to see him again. You imagined you’d be struck with the same sorrow of that night, only thinking of how he had been unable to provide for your needs. But you found yourself only thinking of the good memories you had shared with him. Every sweet affirmation, every gentle touch, just in general the time spent together.

“Hi,” you croaked, observing how his body was brought back to reality at the sound of your voice. He took a few steps closer and removed his signature sunglasses. Seeing his captivating eyes in person for the first time in so long made you tighten the grip around yourself even more, if that was even possible.

“Hey.” His voice didn’t have the same unease as yours, but it was visible on his stance he wasn’t as confident as he usually was. “What brings you here?”

“To the grocery store?”

“Yeah, what brings you to the grocery store?” Satoru repeated awkwardly, trying to play off his weak attempt to make small talk, his cheeks turning to a faded shade of pink.

“Well, I’m going to a barbecue party so just wanted to bring something.”

“Barbecue party. Fun!”

Seeing you again was overwhelming for him as well, and created a twinge of hurt within him. You looked so different from the last time he saw you. There was a hint of a glow in you he hadn’t seen in a long time, and it hit him again that he was the one who had smothered that glow in you in the first place.

Satoru knew he couldn’t continue to lie to himself much longer, and seeing you again was what made him realise that. Right now, looking at you wearing a cute summer dress, looking absolutely stunning, he saw the extreme contrast in your person compared to a month ago. He finally had a clear visual of how his ignorance had truly damaged you, when time away from him had brought a new form of life into you.

What was even worse, was how he could still see the love you had for him in your eyes. From the moment you had gotten together, one could never have doubted the fact that you loved Satoru Gojo. And you’re unwavering love for him had made him feel so safe and seen, like he’d never experienced before. Which was probably the reason he’d let everything get to this point. He knew your feelings for him wouldn’t change if he stayed late a few times, because you never hesitated to show your affection. He just took it for granted he did the same. To him, it wasn’t a question if he was entirely devoted to you, since he was so adamant that he was willing to do absolutely anything for you. He just sort of figured he had given you the same reassurance he’d received. But looking back, he could clearly see that wasn’t the case.

“I hope it’ll be,” you said with a weak smile and his heart fluttered instantly.

“I thought you weren’t big on barbecues though,” he dared chuckle a little.

“I'm not, but figured it was a good opportunity to meet some people.”

He so wanted to reach out his hand and cup your soft cheek, slowly stroking his thumb while his other hand intertwined with yours.

“How are you?” He blurted out, asking the question he had dreaded the answer to.

“Well, I’ve been better,” you stuttered. “But getting there I suppose. Taking it one day at a time. You?”

Whatever dumb thing he thought of answering, trying to conceal how broken he had been the past month, would do no good as you would see right through him. He simply shrugged, which was received by a compassionate, yet sad smile from you.

“You look great, by the way,” he gestured towards you, causing you to blush.

“Thank you,” you whispered, not able to peer your eyes off of him. He was still as gorgeous as ever, but he didn’t look the same. He clearly wasn’t sleeping well, dark circles under his eyes. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t eating well either. But his snow white hair fell the same way, and his eyes looked at you the way they always did. “I have to get going.”

“Wait-“ Satoru quickly interjected, stepping closer again so he was only standing two feet away from you. “Would you like to grab coffee or something sometime?” He sounded so unbelievably innocent, almost like a child as he made his suggestion. He anxiously waited for your answer, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Gojo.” He flinched ever so slightly at the use of his last name, something you’d never done in the span of your relationship. It created a new distance between the two of you that felt untouchable.

“Don’t you think we could both benefit from talking about everything? I mean, things ended very abruptly-“ he quickly shut up when your friend joined your side, pure fury written all over her.

His posture changed, immediately portraying more confident. He seemed now like the Satoru everyone knew, but you saw through his façade.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than torture this poor girl?”

“We were simply chatting.” Satoru tried to play it cool by flashing your friend a smug grin, but it only seemed to fuel the fire.

“Suddenly have time for her now?” He squinted at her comment, knowing it was more than called for. It didn’t stop the urge he had to fire back at her. “Hope your job promotes you, so it’s all worth it at least.”

“I don’t see how this concerns you,” he replied, trying to keep a considerate tone, but you knew better than to think it was genuine.

“It concerns me when she’s absolutely inconsolable, bawling her eyes out in my apartment.” Your friend didn’t need to go into further detail for him to get a pretty clear picture of the scene. He had, after all, been unfortunate enough to witness it himself.

“I just want a few words with y/n alone,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. Your friend was about to continue to argue, but you placed a hand on her shoulder, signaling for her to put down her pitchfork.

“It’s okay,” you took a deep breath. “Just wait by the register and I’ll be with you shortly.” She gave one last stern look in Satoru’s direction before doing as you requested.

Looking at Satoru, his cocky expression had disappeared the second your friend had turned a corner. It felt so bittersweet, seeing the kind person you knew inside out, standing before you so fragile. Old habits die hard, and you felt yourself fighting the urge to stroke his cheek and comfort him.

“Y/n, I just feel like there is a lot of stuff that we’ve left unsaid.” His calm, cool and collected manner had been thrown out the window and he resembled himself the evening of the breakup. “I never got to say my piece or apologise properly.”

“I know,” was all you said, using every fiber of your body to seem levelheaded. You observed how he constantly tried to reach out for you, but stopped himself every time out of respect.

“Believe me when I say, I truly am sorry. I’ve never regretted anything more.”

“I know,” you repeated, same calm tone.

“Maybe it would give us a chance to heal properly if everything is out in the open. So we both know exactly what the other is thinking.”

“Gojo-“

“No, please, listen. I know I messed up and I really want to fix this!” He rambled on, his desperation resembling the one from that night

“Gojo-“

“Maybe even there’s a chance for us-“

“Satoru,” you said sternly, finally silencing his tangent. Your eyes flickered between his as you saw him trying to find the focus to calm his breathing. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

You saw the heartbreak wash over him, his shoulders falling in disappointment as he whispered your name. You’d missed hearing him speak it with such tender care.

“I am finally starting to get back on track. I’ve even started looking for an apartment,” you said with a sad chuckle. You wanted to show him, and yourself, that you had gotten to the point that you could at least manage to not completely breakdown when you were out in public. “I stand by what I said that night.”

“And you should! You deserve to be loved, and I can be that person. I am that person! There has never been a moment where I haven’t loved you.”

“Satoru, stop it.” You raised your voice slightly. “This is not the time or place for this.” It seemed as it wasn’t until now he was reminded of where you were standing. You gathered up the courage and walked up to him, carefully placing your hand on his cheek. The second you felt his cheek against your hand, you felt as if your skin was on fire.

Satoru didn't hesitate eitherm to place his big hand over yours as hea leaned into your touch. His eyes became glossy, realising how much he had craved feeling your skin against him again. “I just think I need to be the most important person in my life for a while.” He slowly began to nod in agreement, and you heard his breath began to quicken like it had done previously.

He licked his lips, trying to find his words. “See you around then?” His voice was unsteady and his chin quivered.

“Yeah, probably,” you spoke sadly. You let your hand fall from his face, but he held onto your hand until you were too far away. In a way, it felt as if both of you were aware that your story wasn’t over just yet. Satoru was right, there was a lot of stuff still left out in the open which made you believe there were still chapters to be written, whether they were good or bad. But it brought you some form of comfort.

Drying the single tear that had fallen from your eye, you turned away and began to walk away. “You look beautiful, darling,” he said, making your head turn one last time. You gave him a sad smile before he disappeared out of view.

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tags: @alisstaa

a/n: oh my, thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback on part one. it is greatly appreciated and really motivates me to write. that being said, i am not as happy with part two as part one but i rewrote it like two times and i guess it's alright. its more important you like it rather than i. hope you guys like it, and again thank you guys so so much for the feedback. reblogs, comments are greatly valued

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kaisacobra · 3 months

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A Step Into the Future - Sam Carpenter

Summary: A cuddly morning with your girlfriend Sam turns into a conversation about your future.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff.

Word Count: 1.8k

You were never particularly religious, but in moments like these, when everything was calm and you were in the arms of the person you loved most in the world, you truly felt like you were in heaven.

Soft snores reaching your ears and a warm, slow breath on your neck had become your favorite alarm clock. It was worth waking up earlier just to have the sight of your girlfriend peacefully sleeping beside you, in one of those rare moments when her expression wasn't burdened with worries and a sense of alertness.

Moving slowly to avoid waking her up, you raised your arm to her sculpted face and brushed some strands of hair aside, wanting to get a complete view of Sam's face. The way the sunlight seeped through a crack in the curtain illuminated Sam perfectly, giving you a breathtaking sight.

Samantha Carpenter was the greatest work of art you had ever seen. A face like a Botticelli painting, a body like a Michelangelo sculpture, a voice like a siren's song, and a heart kept like a precious jewel.

Your thoughts spoke louder, and you allowed yourself to gently slide a finger over the soft skin of the bridge of the woman's nose, finding it adorable when she involuntarily wrinkled her nose in response. You enjoyed being able to take pride in recognizing Sam's subtle signs, having carefully studied her reactions throughout the early stages of your relationship. This allowed you to notice certain things, like the change in the rhythm of her breathing, even if she pretended to still be asleep.

"Darling?" You whispered as softly as you could, just in case you had misread your analysis and your girlfriend was actually asleep.

But soon your theory was proven correct when Sam let out a husky grunt and hugged your torso with both arms, trapping you in a grip that honestly didn't bother you at all. She shifted in bed until she rested her head on your chest, releasing a sigh of contentment when satisfied with the proximity.

You gave a small smile and began playing with her hair without thinking too much. Some time ago, at the beginning of the relationship, you used to wonder if Sam would ever let you get close for real. Now, you knew that no one who knew her would believe you if you said the older Carpenter was like a cuddly kitten that complained if she wasn't touching you at every possible minute.

The peaceful silence was interrupted for a moment by a loud complaint from Sam's stomach, who quickly moved to bury her face in the crook of your neck. "No," she spoke firmly but with a voice laden with playfulness and drowsiness.

"No, what?" You laughed, letting her get more comfortable beside you, even if it meant she was two steps away from being on top of you.

Sam lifted her head just enough for her voice not to be muffled. You couldn't see her face clearly due to the position, but you could identify her still-closed eyes. "You were going to suggest getting up for breakfast. My answer is no."

"But, darling..." You laughed again, amused at how a just-awakened Sam was practically a stubborn child. "You're hungry, aren't you? I can go make a quick breakfast and come back to be with you."

Your girlfriend made a protesting noise and held you tighter in her arms, as if you were planning to escape at any moment. Of course, you weren't going to complain, after all, there was no more perfect place in the world than Sam's arms. She shook her head slightly. "You're forbidden to leave. We'll cook something later, together."

"Forbidden?" You chuckled. "By whom, exactly?"

"By me, your amazing girlfriend."

You laughed a bit more and decided to gently stroke Sam's scalp, feeling the woman slowly soften under your touch again. That had to be one of your greatest achievements—the fact that Sam trusted you so much to allow herself to be vulnerable, even if it didn't come naturally to her anymore.

She shifted a bit more, this time wrapping her legs around yours. "I could do this for the rest of my life, you know?"

Vulnerability and even a hint of embarrassment shone through Sam's voice, and although you couldn't see her face completely, you could see a part of her cheek starting to turn red. Adorable, you would say.

"Hold onto me like a koala?" You teased, feeling her lightly pinch your arm in retaliation. She muttered a curse in Spanish, and the warm breath from her mouth hit a sensitive area of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Sam seemed too sleepy to notice your reactions and tease you back. Instead, she spoke again slowly, as if sharing a huge secret. "No, idiot. This. Waking up with you by my side, every day."

"Oh." You responded with great eloquence, feeling your entire body heat up and butterflies flutter in your stomach as if you were the protagonist of a teenage romance. Sam wasn't one to express love with words much, but when she did, you could barely contain yourself from looking like a smitten fool. "I could do that forever too. Truly become your family."

Your trembling voice betrayed how much you had wanted to have this kind of conversation for a while, even if you were leaving the actual meaning implicit. Still, you knew Sam would understand what you were trying to say.

"You already are family. We don't need to get married for that." She spoke, but soon realizing how her words sounded a bit harsh, she moved back a bit and locked eyes with you, your faces just a few inches apart. "Not that I don't want to get married! I do. Someday. But you don't have to wait until then to feel like part of the family."

Once again, a small party seemed to settle inside you with Sam's words and the sight of her in front of you, her face flushed with shyness and the admission that she envisions a future with you. Taking advantage of the closeness, you cupped her face with one hand. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

You're welcome. The words hung implicitly in the air as she turned her face just enough to kiss the palm of your hand. Sam's brown eyes were still small due to sleepiness, but they already sparkled like the most beautiful jewel you had ever seen. You felt very lucky.

Seizing the opportunity, you decided to delve a bit further into the subject. "Would you like to expand this family with me? In the future, of course."

Sam squirmed a bit, and you knew she was reluctant to think about that answer. You started to gently stroke her jaw with your thumb, trying to calm her and convey the message that you would be okay with whatever answer she gave.

"I kinda already have three kids, you know?" She said with humor, and you opened a smile in response. It was true that Sam was very protective of her sister, Tara, and the two twins, Mindy and Chad. You could see how much she cared for them and how hard she worked to make sure she could provide some of the things they liked.

"Oh yes, how could I forget?" You replied still humorously, and you were ready to let the subject drop there, not wanting to pressure your girlfriend into anything. However, Sam seemed not to have finished her train of thought.

She bit her lip, looking hesitant. "It's just that... I don't have the best history with my parents, as you know. And I don't have the best overall history, damn, I don't even have a degree, and..."

"Hey, hey. One step at a time, okay?" You reassured her, placing a kiss on her forehead that made her release a relieved sigh. "Firstly, you're not like your parents, no matter what you think. Secondly, it's not too late to start college if that's what you want."

"No, it's not possible." Sam shook her head, looking away to your collarbone with some shame. "I have to work to pay for the apartment rent and also support me and Tara. I don't have time for that."

You frowned and held the Carpenter's chin, making her look at you. Even embarrassed, Sam could still be intimidating enough, and her gaze gave you the same feeling of being struck by lightning, as if electricity ran through your veins every time your eyes met. "I could help you if you wanted."

"No. It's not your obli-"

"I'm not being forced to do anything." You cut her off, shaking your head and smiling to show that you were serious. "You know I have a well-paying internship. I could move here, share the bills and a room with you. It would be less burdensome, and you could work just one job and use the rest of the time to study. What do you think?"

Sam seemed to be in an internal battle, looking at you with admiration and trying to fight back the tears that were on the brink of her eyes. She reached out to caress your face. "You don't have to do this."

"I would like to." You reassured her, pulling her closer to envelop her waist in a hug. "Besides, I'd finally get rid of that small dorm and my weird roommate."

Sam scowled, her voice laden with jealousy. "You mean that flirt who's always hitting on you? You know, I'm starting to think it really is a good idea for you to move in, maybe now that bitch will understand that you're taken."

You laughed at Sam's indignation but didn't say anything to disagree. She was right, after all. At the end of the day, you were very well taken, and you were perfectly fine with that. The sunlight streaming into the room through the curtains seemed a bit brighter now, and although you didn't want to burst your bubble of happiness with Sam, you really needed to start preparing for the day ahead.

She seemed to read your mind, as she always did, given the connection between you two, and just nodded in agreement, a sign that she also agreed to get up and shake off the laziness.

In a last moment of calm, Sam approached you and spread small kisses over your chin, cheeks, and forehead, finally stopping at your mouth and kissing you with true love and affection, creating not only a physical connection but also a connection of souls. You embraced the contact, responding to the kiss with the same passion, forgetting about anything else but Sam's lips.

As she pulled away, Sam smiled contentedly. Her hair messy because of the bed, red puffy lips, and eyes with sleep residue didn't prevent you from seeing her as the most beautiful woman you had ever seen on Earth. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too." You whispered back, your voice laden with emotion.

You didn't know what to expect from the future, but one thing was certain. Whatever it was, you would have Sam Carpenter, and Sam Carpenter would have you.

#scream #scream vi #scream 2022 #scream x reader #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter x you

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 16 days

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Honey bee (dad!hanjisung)

The whole "favourite parent" theory never really convinced you to the fullest, not with how much Daisy was obsessed with father, her very first word being "dada!", the biggest rounded eyes looking excitedly at him, her cute little mouth just a happy happy o shape as she tuned to her dad when you had first asked her to try and say the word, which nearly brought Jisung to tears right then and there.

With you being the parent that was at home the most though, you were quite used to being wrapped around her little finger, catering to her every need, helping her and caring for her through her trickiest nights and seasonal flu.

Jisung tried his very very best at being as present as possible and not miss on any important milestones such as her first word, which had happened fairly recently, or the first few little steps she walked from your seated figure to him, resting his bum on the carpet, opposite you, both of your arms outstretched for her shall she stumble on her little feet. He was there. Overjoyed.

Whenever he came home from work, be it at 2 in the morning or 4 in the afternoon, he always made sure to go and see his baby, even if it was for a little bit, like his lunch break or five minutes before going to bed, he always stuck to his habit of just taking a few minutes to just look at her, kiss her cheek, play with her or have a cuddle if she was awake.

And Daisy must have developed a sixth sense for that, even for a toddler as young as barely one year old, she just knew whenever her dad was about to come home. And she would become just a liiiiiitle restless and fussy with either excitement or desperate anticipation. Hence you secretly started to believe perhaps he was the favourite parent, probably cause she loved him so, and missed him just as much, despite his best efforts.

Tonight was just one of those nights, Jisung had literally just gotten home not even 3 hours ago, it was way past her bed time but none of you had the heart to deny either of you some bonding family time, or better yet father and daughter quality time.

He had postponed his shower and his unpacking and just picked her up from the floor where she was playing quietly with you, and smothered her little face with kisses and hugged her and hold her and played with her for as long as possible before she required a nappy change and the delayed night time routine.

Neither of you felt like you were being bad parents. Routines and regular sleeping schedules were important but so is being patient and lenient, understanding of your child needs and yours as parents too. A little indulgence and some extra cuddles never hurt anyone.

Bathed and half way through her bottle, baby Daisy was having a hard time concentrating on the soft lullaby bed time story you were reading her, she kept rubbing her small chubby knuckles into her eyes and half giggling cause she was too awake and eager, kept fidgeting and twitching in her sleeveless sleep sack she usually loved being swaddled in.

"Ah I see, you're not so sleepy tonight are you? Silly little bloom you are", you giggle at her cute happy and definitely more than alert face, gently pinching her rosy cheeks, "is someone just so excited dada's home? Shall we go see him? Shall we have dada sing you to sleep tonight?", you suggest rhetorically, knowing that even though she can't fully grasp what you're saying she definitely understands any mention of her father.

With a little huffing and puffing from the effort, you roll over onto the side and get up from her little bed wich you had squeezed yourself in, you unzip her sleeping sack and pick her up, gently brushing away her satiny soft wisps of dark brown hair, just barely curling at the tips, you balance her on your hip, careful to distribute her weight evenly so you don't strain yourself, and slowly pad into the corridor and then into your master bedroom where you find your husband folding his clothes into the closet, his suitcases now empty, discarded on the floor beside the bed.

"Knock knock? A certain daisy bloom is requesting her sweet honey bee to help her sleep tonight", you announce playfully as you cup your daughter's little hand and help her knock on the door, Jisung spins around with a start, his face immediately lighting up, "oh goodness!", he muses excitedly, dropping whatever shirt he was trying to neatly fold in his lap.

He walks over to you, grinning from ear to ear, and gently lifts Daisy from your arms and into his, holding her close to his chest so he can place a fluttery stream of kisses into her hair, "is it true Deiji girl? you want Dada?", he coos, sitting on the edge of the bed, relishing in the way his baby girl latches onto him, her little arms and hands trying to grip onto his neck as she squeaks happily, "da-dda", she blubbers, burying her face into his chest.

He shoots you the puppy eyes, his bottom lip trembling, the look on his face so devastatingly amazed and touched, which you reciprocate, clutching your own chest, watching as he cuddles her closer while he scoots on the bed so he can rest his back onto the bed frame, the baby not even shifting into his arms, her ear pressed onto his pectoral, perhaps a subconscious reminiscence of when she used to do that as a newborn.

Endless were the days when Jisung wouldn't dare breathing too loud, scared he would disturb her sleep, and would hold her like that for hours on end, the tiny shell of her ear pressed onto his hearbeat, his hands rubbing her back ever so lightly in soothing motion, his lips brushing her head every once in a while in a dream like state, or a suppressing-his- leg - cramps - and- impeding- need- to- pee- and- breathe- normally- hazy state. For there was no way in hell he was going to move and wake her up.

Fatherhood. What an immense blessing to have been bestowed upon him. Jisung was the most wonderful father despite the demands of his tight working schedules, he had been pouring himself out for your daughter from day one, and you had been witnessing him blossoming into his nurturing calling just like his first baby name's sake.

"You guys... I'm going to cry", you mumble, feeling suddenly very emotional at the scene before you, "me too... oh... how I missed her", Jisung sniffles, snuggling his baby tightly but still carefully enough so he doesn't crush her, "she's so cuddly I'm going to die", he adds then, holding her up closer to his face so he can kiss her cheeks and her forehead and the tip her nose and her cheeks again and her nose again.

"You are the best cuddler in the whole world you know that sweetheart?", he says softly, gazing into his daughter boba brown eyes, a miniature version of his own eyes, along with the squishiest cheeks and poutiest lips she inherited straight from him as well, whereas she had your nose and your chin and seemingly your hair, the perfect tiny combination of both of you guys' genes.

Daisy tilts her head to the side and slabbers a little, adorable loud giggles escaping her mouth, "dadda eeppyy", she gabbles, trying to stand on her tippy toes in Jisung's lap, whose hands hover over her small frame, catching her whenever she wobbles unsteadily, "dada's sleepy? Yeah, I am sleepy. Is Daisy sleepy too? Shall we go night night?", he says sweetly, smiling proudly, elated at just how bright and smart and cute his daughter is, "ya", she says in her tiny voice, trying to nod lightly, mimicking a small yawn after.

"Okay, night night we go then. Let's say bye bye to omma and sissy first! Say night night mommy, night night sissy!", Jisung instructs tenderly, brushing her hair with his fingers and then gently guiding her to you so she can crawl over and cup your cheeks in her little hands:" nah nah mam-mah", she babbles, her aim a little off when she tries to kiss your cheek and ends up slobbering all over your face.

Which you can't help but laugh endeared at: "good night sweetie, I love you, sissy loves you too!", you say softly, your hands cradling your round bump. A fond smile and soft gaze into his eyes, Jisung pecks your lips once, lingering there just for a second, a promise for more at a later time.

"Let's say bye bye to sissy too, where is sissy?", he adds then, gently encouraging Daisy to use her little pointer finger to poke at your chest, just slightly above your heart, "aw sissy is mommy's heart, but she's also in mommy's belly!", he prods her on gently, until she pokes your belly too, smiling excitedly, "good girl! There's sissy! say goodnight sissy, I love you! like this, here, watch dada", he explains patiently, bending down to kiss your belly once, and then twice, and then thrice.

Soon enough Daisy copies him and you find yourself overwhelmed with a flurry of slobbery kisses all over your tummy and your chest, the echo of your husband and daughter's giggling and smacking their lips on your skin making your tear up with both joy and the prickling feeling of having to go toilet with how much they're ticking you.

"Night night Nari, we love you", Jisung whispers, his lips pretty much still attached to you, an arm firmly wrapped around his toddler and the other cradling your belly, honey dripping from his words and his eyes.

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subastian-swallows · 1 year

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HOGWARTS LEGACY CHARACTERS

They find excuses to hold your hand (ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³

Sebastian:

“You’re shivering — I’m just trying to help.”

“I’m just measuring our hands — I didn’t realise yours were so small?”

“Come with me — and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Just hold my hand, god dammit.”

“Actually wait...no come this way.”

“What do you mean, just wanting to hold your hand? No — I just...this is the easiest way to get you to follow...quickly.”

“Hey, come here — I want to test something...wah! I can’t believe you’re so ticklish...cute.”

“You brushed my hand — I’m just taking the initiative...”

“Ominis said my hands feel too rough today...could you check for me?”

“HOLD MY HAND...please.”

Ominis:

“Could you hold my hand?”

“May I check something...your hand, please?”

“I’ve heard people’s palms are quite sensitive — can I test that theory?”

“Come quick — Sebastian’s about to dare a third-year into jumping into the Black Lake.”

“I swear...well — I suppose we’re here now? Care for a walk?”

“Are your hands soft?”

“You’ve ‘accidentally’ brushed my hand, three times now...do you wish to hold my hand?”

“I...uh, lost my wand? Care to help me to class?”

“Let’s see who has the bigger hand...hm — so tiny.”

“I’d like to hold your hand...please.”

Garreth:

“I have something to show you — just let me...wah! Your hands are cold...lucky I run hot.”

“Gimme your hand — could you hold this, please.” *Gives his own hand, with a playful smile*

“Let me read your palm — I’ve gotten really good at it! Promise!”

“Come with me — I have an itching for trouble.”

“Allow me the honour — of holding your hand”

“Let’s have a thumb wrestle? Come on, I’ll be gentle.”

“Run! Don’t ask questions! Just gimme your hand!”

“It’s better if we hold hands while running...so I don’t lose you of course.”

“Shall we go together — here, it’s cold...let me warm your hands up.”

“Honestly, I just really want to hold your hand.”

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stylesharrys · 6 months

Text

knight in skinny jeans

summary: y/n gets stood up and harry is her knight in skinny jeans and a fleetwood mac t-shirt.

word count: 2,008

a/n: this is an old patron exclusive fic guys, it is more of a little lengthy blurb but it's something for just you guys! this also has zayn in it i miss him :(

In all her years of life, Y/N’s only ever been hauntingly afraid of one thing. Spiders and bugs have never bothered her, and even as a child, she didn’t mind the dark. She seeks comfort in thunderstorms and welcomes the rush of adrenaline when she stands at great heights. She’s not afraid of much, but there’s one thing that makes her wish the ground would swallow her whole.

In retro respect, she supposes it wasn’t the best idea to agree to meet him at the restaurant. And looking back now, she guesses making as much as an effort would only get her hurt.

It doesn’t change where she is now, though—tucked away in the booth with a half-empty glass of water and a grumbling belly. And let’s not forget the overwhelming sense of nausea in the pit of her stomach.

Embarrassment. That’s Y/N’s biggest fear.

Y/N supposes it stems somewhere deep in her childhood, where a traumatising memory takes place that her mind has blocked from remembering.

She’s been stood up. Plain and simple.

He’s over an hour late and not replying to her texts, so she thinks she gets the message.

Y/N feels a little sick. Her hands are clammy, and she can’t seem to stop her knee from bouncing under the table. She gnaws her bottom lip raw, and her eyes are scatty as she gazes over other guests in hopes they’re not all looking at her and realise what’s going on.

She’s never been stood up before, and in a classy restaurant such as she’s in now, dressed to the nines, it only makes matters worse. If she stands up and walks out, everyone will know she’s been stood up. But she can’t sit and wait around, either.

Y/N feels like they already know—like they’re snickering under their breaths and all eyes are on her.

She’s wrong. No one has noticed yet, and she needs to get out of the damn booth before another waiter comes over with a pitty-filled smile and asks if she’d like to order or not.

Maybe she’s lucky her tea dress can be considered a little casual, and perhaps if she plays her cards right and leaves smiling, people may think she’s left early from dinner with a group of friends.

Y/N knows she shouldn’t be overthinking it this much, but she is. Her chest and neck feel hot with heat, and her eyes are prickling with tears as her nose starts to tingle. She needs to get out of here.

Y/N clears her throat and reaches for her little purse, standing and evening out her outfit. She’s put the bag over her shoulder as she manoeuvres through dim, candle-lit tables to make for the restroom.

She tries to keep a light smile on her face when she brushes past a brisk waiter before pushing into the toilets. It’s empty inside, the harsh lights reflecting over her and highlighting her most unattractive features. She closes the door and makes for the line of sinks, a long mirror coating the wall behind them.

Y/N lets out a shaky breath and braces herself against the counter. She can feel her eyes starting to water, the way she loses control, and her lower lip begins to tremble. She can feel the way her knees start to buckle, how her head grows fuzzy, and everything becomes too much.

She feels stupid. How could she believe she had a chance with someone like Daniel fucking Morell? The idea of seeing him again in class next week is disgusting to her. So much so that she starts to wonder if it’s too late to change her major completely.

Boys are horrible.

Y/N takes another deep breath and stands taller. She straightens her back and plasters on her most believable smile. Her theory is: if nobody sees her sad, how can they have pity?

With her shoulders held high, Y/N pushes her way out of the bathroom and through the restaurant. She walks with ease, lets people believe the glimmer in her eyes is pure happiness and confidence. She doesn’t let them look long enough to realise they’re tears of overwhelming sadness and embarrassment.

She knows she’ll cry the night out when she gets back to the safety of her dorm room.

Y/N doesn’t spare anyone another glance before she pushes out the glass doors of the expensive restaurant and it’s when the cold air of the splintering night hits her, that she feels the heaviness of the situation sit heavy on her shoulders.

She was finally asked on a date by one of the most popular boys on campus -- the boy she’s been crushing on for the longest time -- the boy that they all know is well out of her league. And he stood her up, plain and simple. He told her he’d meet her at the restaurant, and then he ignored her texts.

She wouldn’t be surprised if she rounded the corner and found him and his friends waiting for her just to sit and point and laugh.

Stupid, Y/N. Stupid!

It’s pretty quiet outside (save for a few girls to her left that she briefly recognises from school, and a couple is waiting for a taxi to her right).

She reaches into her purse for her phone, reckons she’ll just call a taxi rather than walking a mile and a half home. The cold air bites at Y/N’s skin, and she’s a shivering mess of nerves and anxiety. She feels naked; like everyone knows she was just stood up.

She needs to stop caring so much what people think.

But it’s when she’s typing away at the Uber app that the girls from moments ago approach her. Y/N looks up from her phone, brows raised slightly and while they all seem vaguely familiar, she doesn’t recall any of their names.

“Y/N, right? We share Mr Harris’ class on Thursdays.”

She’s pretty, Y/N acknowledges. Soft brown hair and gorgeous tan skin. She’s got lean legs and a cute button nose -- captivating brown eyes and if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s incredibly intimidating, Y/N thinks she could quickly develop a bit of a crush on the unnamed girl.

Y/N nods. “Yeah. I don’t know your names, though…” she eases off with a gentle chuckle -- one that suggests discomfort but neither of the other three girls say anything.

They shrug her off, waving their hands with a dismissive headshake. “Doesn’t matter. What are you doing here?” The same girl from before speaks again, and Y/N can feel that lump bubbling up her throat.

Her voice has grown louder as she asks the question and Y/N knows she’s about to be outed for being stood up. She doesn’t look around her; she can’t bring herself to. Instead, she pretends her face and neck aren’t scorched burnt and keeps that unconvincing smile on her face.

She doesn’t realise that the loudness of their tone catches the attention of a certain boy that also happens to attend the same college and share a fair few classes with all four girls.

Harry’s brows knit together as he passes off the lit cigarette to another of his friends. They’ve just left the pub, and he’s a few beers under, but if anything, he only feels more aware of his surroundings. He strains his ears to listen in, can already gather something’s going on.

Y/N’s back is toward the group of them, and all Harry can see is the smug grin on Chelsey’s face. He grimaces. She’s always been a cunt. But then he sees her lips move.

“Where’s your date? You’re not here alone… are you?”

Harry doesn’t bother to tell his friends he’ll be right back. Instead, he palms off his drink to Zayn and exhales the last puff of smoke he didn’t realise he was holding in. There was no way in hell he was about to let Chelsey and her two minions gang up on some (no doubt) innocent and nice enough girl.

His feet kick over to them. He sees the back of Y/N’s head, but he doesn’t recognise her from the position. Her hair is down, she’s got on a pretty tea dress with black tights and some little black booties. Even from a few feet away, Harry can see she’s shivering and cowering into herself.

He takes a deep breath and shrugs off his jacket, leaving him bare to the cold air in just a pair of skinny jeans and his old Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. He approaches the four of them, and Chelsey clocks him first, but he takes no notice.

“Sorry babe, boys were taking ages.” His raspy voice is what has Y/N turning around and Harry’s setting his jacket across her shoulders and pulling her into him.

She looks up, completely bewildered but when she recognises him, she relaxes just a little. She knows Harry from classes, and she’s worked a project or two with him before. They’re friendly, sure, but she’s confused as to why he’d willingly save her off his own back.

She feigns a warm smile, though it’s half genuine. She thinks he’s her knight in skinny jeans.

Harry smiles down at her just the same, and he finally recognises who it is he’s saved and he’s a little surprised. He didn’t peg Y/N to be the type of girl to be stood up. Harry reckons she’s a pretty cool girl; kind and funny, super-smart, too. And she looks extra pretty, now he’s really looking at her.

He can tell she’s made an effort for her date tonight and the fact that she’s been stood up makes him a little agitated.

“S’okay. Know how they can be.”

Y/N plays into it leisurely, coddling into his side. She sets a hand on his chest as she rubs over his left peck and Harry chances it to reach down to give her a tender kiss to the top of her head.

He finally addresses the girls.

“What we chattin’ about?” He stuffs a hand in his pocket and bites back a laugh at the look of pure disgust on Chelsey’s face.

She scoffs to herself, but Y/N doesn’t give her a chance to say anything. “They were just making sure I had a lift home. Girls looking out for girls, just like we should.”

Harry knows Y/N’s lying through her teeth, but he doesn’t say anything -- decides to nod and play along. He hums. “Hate to cut it short then, but the boys are gonna go to The Napier. D’ya fancy goin’ or d’ya jus’ wanna go home? S’whatever you want, love.”

She stares at him for a moment, ponders what he’s offering. Harry hopes she gets the hint that he’s actually offering, that if she doesn’t want to come, he’ll get her an Uber home. Y/N hopes that’s exactly what he’s doing, and she can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s actually offering.

“The Napier sounds good to me.” Y/N grins wide, snuggling into his side and Harry says nothing about how fast her heart is pounding against the side of his ribs.

She’s thankful, knees nearly buckling that he came and saved her, and she reckons she could actually cry. She turns back to the girls, ignores the tingly of her nose. “Thanks for checking in girls. I’ll see you Thursday?”

They don’t have the chance to reply because Harry is pulling Y/N away and toward his small group of friends, and Zayn has been watching the whole thing with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N finally breathes out in relief. Harry’s arm is still thrown over her shoulder, so he gives her a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t mention it. Have a few drinks wi’ us and forget ’bout whoever stood ya up. He’s a knob anyway, doesn’t deserve a good girl like you.” Harry kisses the top of her head again, and Y/N all but melts into his touch.

“I’ll be your date tonight instead.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagines

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cherryshortycake · 2 months

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Bakugou x Reader (Your My Girl)

Request; the idea of a very very careful Izuku/Bakugo (maybe both) as a first timer with you and being oh so gentle and contemplating your beautiful features and just being soft boys))

SMUT: 18+ (Third Years)

On you and Bakugou's Third year at UA, been dating ever since middle of second year. The things you and this boy have went through together, to wars, fights, and challenges that were faced together.

You meant a lot to Bakugou, he'd be lying if he said he didn't.

Bakugou and You talked about sharing a moment like this together in the past, And to fully make sure you both are ready and if this is something you both wanted to do together for sure, Bakugou had bought protection awhile ago for you two when you were ready, 'first time was important and should be taken seriously right?' You thought to yourself. As you were over his dorm, thoughts were running wild.

You both were laying down on his bed, Him on his phone scrolling through the news up today and having random conversation with her. which he loved to do, her voice to him was medicine.

"Can't believe people actually believe in this horse crap." he said scrolling and a post in particular caught his eye. Some fan page accounts of random hero conspiracy theories.

"I can't either Katsu" She said brushing her hair on his bed, across from him.

"tsk" he shuts off his phone and puts it on the charger, "Did you bring your charger?" he said to her, knowing she was crashing at his dorm tonight.

You didn't answer him which made him turn around with curiosity and a raised eyebrow. He seen you brushing your hair and clearly distracted, looks like you were thinking hard. which led him to question her.

"Hey, Think any harder and your head will start smoking." The rasp in his voice caused your thought to break.

"oh sorry I'm just pretty out of it I guess." you chuckled nervously, getting up to put your brush in your purse that was laying on his desk. Bakugou filled you with his eyes still curious. Eyes looking you, up and down, noticing your wearing his black shirt, which was somewhat kinda baggy on you, with your bed shorts

"Hey Katsuki?" his eyes broke off of you to look at you again but at your eyes, when you turned around he responded "Hm.?"

He seen you fidgeting your feet and hands around. and grew his concern more "Hey, now tell me whats wrong you been acting strange-...." you interrupted him. "I Think I'm ready" you said shyly looking down at your hands.

His eyes somewhat widen, and you seen it. you walked up to him and stood in front of him, him sitting on the edge of his bed and you grabbed his cheek, "I'm ready Katsuki." you said rising his face up more to look at you.

"Are.....Are you sure?" he said grabbing your hand in his, softly rubbing his thumb on your palm.

"I've never been more sure." you said giving him a soft smile.

He looked down and his face looked red and steamy hot.

"together like we said one step at a time right? just like you said." you said climbing into bed behind him, rubbing his shoulders and whispering in his ear "I trust you Katsuki"

He shut his eyes in admiring your responds, you really did trust him.

"But I understand if you not ready Kats-..." he interrupted you by turning around fast and hovering over you, forearms holding his-self up. face to face with him, he leans down, forehand on your inner neck. "I'm ready too..." he said muffled in your neck.

"but I want you to know....I'm nervous..but again I trust you okay?' he looked up at you and nodded.

You softly nudged his chest up to get up and to sit on your knees in front of him. On his knees as well on the bed with you, face to face. You leaned forward to give a nice gentle kiss, slow and meaningful. until you broke off him to look down and to take the rim of his shirt off that you was wearing.

Which you weren't wearing anything underneath expect your shorts. You got shy and tried to cover your chest a little bit, Which you looked up at him and his eyes widen, Looks down at your bare chest, face grew redder.

Your hands tryed hiding yourself more, but Bakugou softly removed your hands from yourself. Him looking at you was making you more nervous, he's seeing you bared chested. you couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe it....

but you had pushed through it, you have to stay brave..

"Here.." you said grabbing his hands to hold your chest. You grew red, his warm hands was a different type of feeling of you.

you went redder at the fact he gave them a soft squeeze and let out a low rasp grunt. he were growing shocked, just as much as you. He then ran his hands slowly down you sides, causing you to jump slightly and caused you to grip his biceps.

he seen how red you were, "I'm...im sorry it..tickled." you said quietly laughing.

you seen his soft smile in return and let go of your sides to take off his tank top as well which he knew how much you loved him shirtless.

he then got off the bed facing you to remove his black sweatpants to reveal his dark gray boxers. You then laid on you back comfortably, looking his way. You then saw him open his nightstand drawer to grab out protection.

which he put it on the pillow above your head. and climbed in bed again hover over you, he then rubbed your cheek, and shared a slow passionate kiss with him, lips colliding, like you been needing each other forever.

Craving each other, grinding into each other, he unattached from your lips to kiss your neck softly, still grinding in to each other, a soft moan escaped your lips, which causes Bakugou to hold your legs harder, palms holding behind your knees.

he grabs the condom that was by you head and opens it slowly, he then was about to remove his boxers down to free his hard member under the clothing, which you stopped his hand, which removed It for him which causes him to flinch under your cold fingertips.

he then rolled the condom on, looking at you with soft hungry eyes. He hooked his fingers on your shorts and slowly pulled down, until completing off, he seen the wetness he created which was on your inner thighs as well "oh fuck" he whispered under his breathe, barley heard it. "katsuki...please.."

You begging and saying his name, just threw him over the edge.

He looked down at you, "you ready?" he said quietly. "mhm.." you said biting your lip.

"mm..god..you look...Fuck..." he said overwhelmed at your beauty. He ran his hand down your stomach to your wet folds, slid his fingers among your folds which caused you to moan which was more of a gasp.

He then slide inside you slowly, which caused you to grunt out in someone a stinging pain. "oh fuck....Shhh. I'm sorry shh..I can stop if its too much.."

"keep going...mm..." she said moaning softly, as slide all way in which cause him to grip the bed frame, "Fuck.....Y/n..."

As he slowly pumped in and out, which caused you to gasp at the pleasure.

As it got more carried away he pumps faster and faster which causes both of your skins to sweat.

"Katsuki..." you begged out.

"More Katsuki...Please"

causing him to go harder which he was hesitant too, cause he didn't want too hurt you. but he cant lie you felt amazing..

arching your back in pleasure, he puts his head in your neck and groans out, whimpers out that he's close.

"shit...mm.." is all he can make out before he feels you tighten around him which throws him over the edge and he releases, both in sync with pleasure which was an unbelievable feeling..

both panting out of breath, you look at each other and bust out in to a panting laughter.

after cleaning up and getting comfortable. he put your hair over your ear. kissed your forehead. "your my girl"...

Authors note: Hope enjoyed <3 Instagram: cherrygiggs, I'm going do a new follower private collectors giveaway! Pick from one of new followers!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bakugou x you #mha bakugou #reqs open #mha x reader #my hero academia #bakugou smut

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syoddeye · 2 months

Text

siphon, part four

john price x f!reader part one | two | three | four ~2.3k words cw: kidnapping, implied stalking, dubcon/noncon oral, blood, violence, gore, death

An opportunity arises more than a month into your 'stay'.

"I'm takin' off for a few hours," John announces.

The dishes in the sink rattle beneath the dropped scrub brush. You tuck your chin to your shoulder and glance back. "Oh?"

He stands in the mouth of the hall in a jacket, thumbing through a keyring. "Got an errand."

The question forms instantly, but you hold it back for fear of appearing too eager. Returning to the dishes, you finish rinsing a plate and set it on the drying rack. Behind you, you listen to him putter between the den and the kitchen.

"I assume I'm staying here?"

John hasn't left you alone since you woke up in the backseat of his truck, head splitting. Since then, you've studied the cabin, inside and out. Wherever you are, the location is remote, thickly wooded, and mountainous. A minimum of an hour outside of the city. It's clear he took great pains to ensure you remain indoors. Although he's yet to employ the many security measures beyond the locks on doors and windows, you've observed an alarm panel. You've seen the gun. Then there is his favorite method of control - his sheer physicality. John's built, solid, and efficient. From the books on history, war, politics, and self-sufficiency, your working theory is he's former military. There is no need for a leash when he can outrun you.

He doesn't answer.

You turn to face him, untying the ridiculously frilly apron you might've thought was cute if a boyfriend had given it to you—not your kidnapper. Captivity has a way of killing romance.

His eyes fixate on your hands loosening the garment, and you watch as he selects two keys from the ring by feeling alone. The keys are simple brass, two different sizes. He plays with them idly, evidently lost in some sick domestic fantasy. You stare at them a moment longer – oh. You know where the keys go.

With his preternatural instincts, John returns to earth, raking his eyes from your form as you hang the apron. You cannot stem the burgeoning panic mounting in your chest.

"Sweetheart–"

"No."

As if you have a say.

John considers you, his gaze light and careful when he glances at the kitchen around you, but it settles heavily upon your person. He cracks his neck and pushes the key ring back into his pocket.

"Care to repeat yourself?" He echoes.

You inch to the right. Steps away, a pair of kitchen shears sits. Tonguing your lip, you reach for a reason—any reason—to let him hear reason. "I'll be good. Cuff me to the couch, lock me in the bathroom…Please. Don't put me back in there."

He tracks your movement. He tracks everything. "Not how it works, 'm afraid. C'mere."

This isn't how it is supposed to go. Maybe fucking John didn't grant you the access you thought it would, but it is supposed to make him believe you housebroken. Amicable to whatever plans he has for you, which, you know, he has. He's ruining your plans. Ruining everything.

"Please, I'll-"

"This is not a negotiation. Now come here." He beckons.

A petulant anger flares in your belly. Asking John into your body every night is supposed to mean something. If he puts you back in the kennel, it's all been for naught. He acts as if it's beyond his control, that he didn't contrive the entirety of this nightmare. It shatters something inside of you.

With the force you pull the shears out, the utensil holder cracks on the counter. John curses, closing the distance in three giant steps, and you fight a losing battle. He wrenches them out of your hand, tosses them, and drags you by the hair. You kick and slap with your free hand, but with a cruel rip of his hand, you feel hair come away.

He hauls you down the short corridor. Your breaths come in quick gasps as panic claws its way up your throat. You bark and fight like a stray dog on the business end of a catch-all. It's fruitless.

"Fuck you!"

"Later."

John fishes the keys out, unlocks the room, throws you into it, and slams the door behind him. You bolt into the corner. He ignores you while he opens the cage.

"Now," He points a finger at the entrance.

It isn't fair.

"I'm going to kill you." You blurt out.

John looks unimpressed, sighing. He advances slowly. There is no gentleness in his posture.

"Fuck you." You repeat in a hiss, tensing for the fight you know you'll lose.

His frustration laces with undisguised lust. "Say 'fuck you' again. It sounds like an invitation."

It's inexorable – he violently collects you as if for a dance in the kitchen. You glare through the bars, and he closes the padlock. You both breathe heavier. His hand lingers on the door, and you see the faint imprint of your teeth on the webbing.

"Let's see how much fight you've got left when I come back, hm?"

You lunge for his hand, eager for another bite.

He draws back in time, and his laughter cracks like a whip. "I love you, sweetheart. Nothing you do will change that." He brushes himself off and admires your sulking. "And I've got all the time in the world to change your mind. You'll love me.”

The cabin falls into silence with his departure. You hold yourself tight and take deep breaths. You need to focus. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You could've rolled over and let him lock you up for a couple of hours. But no, you flipped the chessboard like a fucking idiot.

A dripping noise coaxes your eyes to the water bottle. There's a crack in the plastic between the nozzle and the body. Probably broke when he threw you in here. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, reaching for the comfort of sleep. The REM cycle evades you most nights, what with the monster snoring in your ear over your shoulder.

Drip.

Water erodes even the most solid foundations, and you haven't had the luxury of stability in weeks. You grab the dispenser with both hands and pry it from its fastenings. It hurts your hands and takes more energy than you'd like, but it comes loose, and the plastic zip ties snap. Cursing the damned thing out, you hurl it awkwardly through the cage. It doesn't travel far. Doesn't feel as triumphant as you'd've hoped. A stream of water pools from its belly as it bleeds out on its side.

A despairing voice wishes it were you.

Your mouth is dry when he fetches you.

"I'm sorry."

John's grip is ironclad. His face pinches in mild confusion as he helps you from the kennel before a smug smile replaces it.

"What for?"

"Being difficult," You murmur, stretching your legs. "Breaking the water bottle"

"You're a fuckin' brat," He corrects, pointing to the plastic and metal and slurs into your temple. He reeks of whiskey. "Pick it up. Then do the dishes."

You follow him out into the kitchen and suppress a groan. Your stomach grumbles, smelling the late dinner he cooked for himself when he returned and before he let you out. Beside the sink, your destination sits a tin of tuna singled out from the others. You open and eat the bland fish before he changes his mind. You fill the sink with warm water and soap and start in on the chore.

John sits in the living room, well within view, smoking a cigar. The stink carries in your direction, cutting through the sterile scent of the dish soap.

For a few minutes, the silence sits like a third person in the room, occasionally interrupted by the clinking of a dish and the dipping of the brush in the water.

"I'm in a better mood," He starts out of nowhere.

You strain to listen, gauging whether it's a conversation or a soliloquy, and then dunk the cracked bottle, massaging the pliable material and working it under the suds.

"I grabbed a pint and told some folks about my woman troubles," he snorts, laughing at his own joke. I got some good advice."

The image of John holding court at some smoky bar comes uninvited. What lies did he tell his fellow patrons? That his 'girlfriend' threw a fit and stepped out of line?

Beneath the water, the plastic cracks within your tight grip. Your arm jerks, sloshing a smattering of bubbles onto the counter. You swiftly clean up after yourself and move on to drying.

"Leave 'em in the rack." John orders, rising from the armchair in the dark of the living room, leaving his cigar to burn out on the ashtray.

You fumble in surprise at his steps. Should be used to it by now. You hurry with the dish towel. "John, there's only–"

"Now."

His tone brooks no argument, not that you were in a position to dare. Swallowing thick, you abandon the chore half-complete and slink into his arms. John bullies you down the hall, grabbing handfuls of your ass. "Told me to be nice to you, eat your cunt a bit." He sighs into your hair, nudging the bedroom door open with a foot.

You don't fight him or gravity and fall back on the mattress.

John looms, eyeing you like a second dinner. Leaves the light on to see every gruesome detail. He makes short work of your jeans and rubs your calves appreciatively before discarding your underwear.

"So I'm giving you a freebie, just this once. I upset you," he explains and kisses your thighs. “You thought you were ready, but have you ever heard of the three-three-three rule, darling?"

"N-No," You stammer when he pinches for an answer.

"Three days, three weeks, three months. The three most important dates when bringing a dog into a home. Though, by my estimates, it's been working just as well for you."

John chuckles before delving into your heart. The lurch in your belly barely beats out nausea.

Three months. You'd rather die.

The sharp jab in your chest demands freedom.

You let him lose himself. It's easy. He's eaten you out for hours before. You carefully disguise your movements as enthusiasm. You shove your shirt up and over your bra, fondling yourself, discreetly withdrawing the nozzle you broke off of the water bottle in the sink.

Dread and anticipation mix, making you tremble and quake. John, of course, thinks it's all him. It is, in a way. You prop yourself up on your elbows, meeting his eyes briefly when he opens them to take in the parting of your lips.

"John, please," You beg, threading one hand through his short hair.

His eyes shut in focus, humming gleefully, and he doesn't see you coming on either front.

Swinging with everything left, you stab the sharp, concave end of the nozzle into his neck. It sinks in like his windpipe wants it. You both jerk, you with relief and him with a pained, wet scream. It's messy. Blood blooms around his fingers where he clutches the metal. You drag your jellied legs across the bed as he stands, stumbling forward to grab you with a desperate and angry hand.

At his peak, you cannot outrun him. Bleeding profusely from the neck? Tips the scales. You book it to the door and the hall, and he comes crashing after you. Adrenaline and pure fucking fear hurl you down to the kitchen. You skid to a halt on the linoleum and lunge for the drawers from which you've seen him draw knives.

John's steps are haphazard and clumsy, but the full weight of his body is behind each one. He thunders down the hall, slurring, trying to push out words. It all comes out in bellows. A dying animal. Seeing you grab a cook's knife, he stumbles, pausing at the threshold of the corridor. Locking eyes, he reaches for the metal tube stuck in his throat instead. He gurgles something that roughly sounds like you bitch.

"I wouldn't do that." You half-heartedly warn, brandishing the knife.

He wrenches it out anyway, hand slapping to the hole immediately after, but there's too much blood. It's too slick. Red sprays. More than you thought.

John makes it one step before he slowly slumps to the ground, and you stalk closer, giving a wide berth with the blade in hand. He sags back to the wall, feebly pressing thick fingers against the gaping wound in his neck. It's useless. You know it. He knows it.

You crouch, naked from the waist down. Even now, he ogles, the shitstain.

"Do you need help, John?"

His eyes narrow, struggling to focus. The blue looks flatter. Vacant.

A genuine smile splits your face.

"Why don't you just ask?"

The truck dies just off the forestry road. Of course. At least hell is in the rearview.

The sun is barely above the horizon, and John's phone still can't get a signal. Cursing him out, you slip the rucksack full of supplies you found while raiding the cabin. You could've grabbed more but couldn't stay there any longer. You pussyfooted over the gun, ultimately deciding it wasn't worth the energy to find the right key or pry the door open. Not for a weapon you've never used before. Finding your shoes was the best discovery apart from the truck keys and his phone. You'll need them for the walk.

It's almost an hour before you hear a car. You hook a thumb, walking forward, staring intently at the bend in the road ahead. Seconds later, an old, two-seater pick-up appears, and though it takes a moment for it to stop, they do.

You clamber towards the driver’s side window as it rolls down.

“Need a ride?”

“Yes, please. My truck died. Can I get a ride to town?”

“‘Course. What’s your name?”

Giddy and relieved, you give your name as you toss the bag into the open bed.

“What’s yours?” You ask, smoothing a hand over your forehead.

Your unwitting rescuer smiles. Jesus, he’s handsome.

“Kyle.”

#john price x f!reader #john price x reader #john price x you #price x f!reader #price x reader #price x you #cw violence #cw kidnapping #cw noncon #cw blood #cw death #darkfic #read the content warnings for the love of all things #got whatever that was out of my system

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antifrgl · 11 months

Note

maybe something about the aftermath of hobie’s canon event and how the reader would try to comfort him

there are so many theories abt his canon event, so for this i just assumed that he somehow got close to a cop (that he obviously didn't want to die) ??? sorry for the mistakes !!

comforting hobie after his canon event ☆ atsv

hobie x g-neutral reader.

he definitely zones out while he's trying to process what just happened, it just feels so unreal to him.

certainly, a thousands of thoughts run through his mind as he's internally panicking.

he just needs to go, but where ? he needs to see someone, quick, but who ? he needs someone to slap some sense into him, but again, who ?

after a few seconds that felt like hours for hobie, it eventually hit him like a thunderbolt.

he needs his safe place ... and all he could think of is you !!

brushing all his thoughts aside, he just swings to your place AND completely ignores the fact that HE'S NOT hobie brown right now !!

at this point of your relationship, hobie didn't reveal to you his spider-man's activities although you were pretty close, he just didn't feel the need to include you in his other life, until that night.

"what the ..."

SPIDER-PUNK ???

spider-punk is knocking on your window while his other hand (you assumed) glued to the wall like his feet ??

spider-punk was pretty famous, no, VERY famous, so famous that you can't even believe your eyes ???

LIKE ?? WHAT IS SPIDER-PUNK DOING AT ONE AM KNOCKING ON YOUR WINDOW ???

eventually, you allow him to come in ?? but he just ... doesn't move, nor speak, which suddenly frightens you 0_o

yep ..

it finally hits him ..

he's not hobie brown right now ..

yet, it's not enough to make him just swing away and pretend like nothing happened :/

while a silent and awkward atmosphere blankets your room, he finally comes in and stands there for a second, before reaching for his mask ...

"wait, HOBIE ?!"

no, it's not that surprising, it definitely makes sense you think ...

he never meets your gaze, he prefers to lower his head, still no words escaping his lips, only loud breathes, hinting that the boy definitely had it rough a few minutes ago ...

once you took a few steps closer, like an instinct you just cup his cheek with the palm of your hand and carefully lift his head and damn ..

it was such a sad sight.

hobie couldn't really function properly, but he certainly felt relief, almost regretting to not have revealed his secret life, his doubts and problems to you earlier in your relationship.

you just froze as he suddenly leans in and rests his head on your shoulder.

the both of you eventually stay like this for a good minute, then two, then three, then four till hobie breaks the silence with a tired voice.

"can i sleep here, tonight ?"

liar.

the boy couldn't close one eye through the whole night, but your presence sure calmed him and somehow kept him warm.

he felt a sense of security, something that he never experienced before !

the day after, you wake up without finding hobie next to you BUT before you could panic, you notice an unfamiliar note.

"thank you. ay, keep this a secret, will you ? - hobie"

BUT no need to worry !! there's no need to feel useless or whatever !! you did everything right !!

hobie wouldn't want to talk about what happened, certainly not just a few minutes after it happened, but he'll definitely explain it to you someday (:

the boy just needs some time alone, before he eventually comes back to you, after facing his spider crisis ...

#hobie brown x reader #spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spiderman x reader #marvel x reader

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deepouterspacecandy · 26 days

Text

Next of Kin

The pregnant reader requests are so sweet, I swear I'm not ignoring them. All of your messages and requests have been great and they mean a lot to me. I'm under the weather right now so I apologize big time for the slow updates and responses. I hope this drabble scratches the itch until I'm back. 18+ only.

What if Abby's girlfriend is the pregnant one in TLOU2?

Oh, there will be no more running from the infected or putting yourself in harm’s way. This comes to an end immediately.

She’ll be reluctant to let you lift anything, even when it’s safe to do so and even when you’re capable. Abby knows it drives you nuts, and it’s the one thing she doesn’t compromise on.

However, not all her doting bothers you.

Your heart swells with tenderness for Abby as she reaches out to grasp your elbow while you climb the stairs and drops to her knees to tie your shoes when bending becomes more challenging. Her duty is to make sure you get the nutrients you require, and she tirelessly hunts for any pregnancy related books she can find.

When Manny tells her that orgasms can trigger labour, she blushes furiously and groans at him to knock it off.

“It’s not like that,” she mumbles.

It is like that. Abby is deeply in love with you.

I don’t think she takes you back to the Stadium, though. I imagine she quietly settles beside you, observing your peaceful slumber, while wrestling with the weight of her actions as the renowned Scar hunter. Memories of her dad resurfacing to remind her of the dreams and aspirations he held for her. As she defects from the WLF, a small crew of soldiers joins her, eager to fight for a new cause.

In the beginning, she might feel too self-conscious to sing to your belly, but once your baby bump becomes more noticeable, she will seize any opportunity to touch and connect with you, as long as you are comfortable with it.

She is hell bent on finding a community with a medical team.

I see Abby as the girl who is by your side for every ultrasound.

The moment she experiences the baby kick, her eyes meet yours in disbelief, as if she’s overwhelmed by the extraordinary gift bestowed upon her by the world. When she lays eyes on the growing life inside you, her role as your protector becomes an eternal vow.

It’s not often that she cries, but if she misses an appointment because her assignments run late or there is an unexpected problem, it would be one of those few occasions. Trying to hide her emotions from her squad, she will steal a glance at her watch and clench her teeth, struggling to keep her lip from quivering.

The next time she cries will be the night your son is born, and she cradles him in her arms for the first time.

Abby surprises you by building a crib with her own two hands, meticulously sanding, and staining the wood. The day she finally confesses her love out loud, you can’t help but notice the pine chips tangled in her hair and the dust that coats her threadbare shirt.

“You’re a mess,” you say, brushing the remnants of her project from her shoulders and watching the particles float gently to the carpet. “I can’t believe you did this for us. It’s beautiful, Abby.”

“I want to be a part of this,” she says, breath catching in her throat as she lifts your hands to her chest. “I want to be yours.”

“You already are,” you murmur.

Although the labour theory that Manny suggested scared her to death, the minute she notices your libido is returning in full force, she goes all in, making the subsequent sexual experience fun and romantic.

She finds beauty in the soft curves and stretch marks that adorn your body, especially when you cannot see it yourself.

Is she a little obsessed with the way you looked during pregnancy? I don’t know, you’ll have to ask her, but she sure as shit adores your body as it is now.

Below the surface, Abigail Anderson may be gentle-natured, but nobody fucks with her son and wife.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian #abby anderson

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berriweb · 10 months

Note

Hey! If it’s okay, may I request Hobie Brown, Miguel O’hara, and Miles Morales headcanons where they find out from Miguel and Layla (of in Miguel’s case, finds out himself) that this s/o is the only variant of themselves the exists im the multiverse (like America Chavez)? I’m very interested in seeing how you’d think the boys would react to this kind of information and maybe what Miguel would do since there is only one other person (America) that is in the readers situation where there is no other version of them.

╰┈➤ ❝ one of a kind ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. miguel o’hara, hobie brown, miles morales

: ̗̀➛ synopsis. miguel, hobie and miles finding out that their s/o has no other variants

: ̗̀➛ a/n. i LOVE this idea it’s so original, also trying out headcanons to see if I fw writing like this we’ll see, and a little side note: i had the s/o NOT being a spider-person in mind when i wrote this so keep that in mind

— MILES MORALES

in an fictional world where miguel isn’t a psycho and miles actually joins the spider society, I imagine he finds out about your situation through miguel one day during a meeting

miguel wouldn’t even intentionally share the information, if anything i feel like he’d avoid telling miles anything he didn’t need to know

it was lyla who spilled the not-so-secret secret by making an off hand joke during their conversation about his lover being one of a kind

miguel tries to brush her off and act like she was talking crazy but by then it’s too late and the way lyla worded it now has his interest piqued so miguel pretty much has no choice to either tell now or tell later when he gets tired of miles bringing it up

he explains to miles how he found out that unlike every spider-man, gwen stacy, etc. you have no other versions of yourself in any other universe, you’re the only variant

miles is absolutely FASCINATED by that idea, and while he promises not to go blabbing about it to every per miguel’s request, the next time he sees you it’s the first thing he brings up

whether or not you already knew about this, you enjoy listening to his interest in the fact as he talks about it, going on and on about how crazy it is that in the infinite amount of dimensions and universes there are, there’s no other person like you

he feels incredibly lucky and grateful that you ended up in his universe and doesn’t stop telling you that

miles also enjoys theorizing with you in random moments where you both have nothing to say about what other versions of you would be like if you did have variants

his favorite theory was a universe where you became spider-man instead of him

you both enjoyed imagining that reality for two completely different reasons (he just wanted to see you in the suit)

— HOBIE BROWN

unlike miles i don’t think hobie would find out directly from miguel because i’m a firm believer that he’s hellbent on being a nuisance whenever he can

he found out by snooping through miguel’s database when he was away from the spider base

hobie hadn’t been looking for anything on you in particular, but when he saw his s/o’s name he couldn’t help but be just a little nosy

who wouldn’t want to know what other versions of their lover was like?? and at the moment he realized that like other prominent figures in every other spider-man universe, he’s never seen any of your variants

so imagine his surprise when he wasn’t able to find anything on you

he ends up nonchalantly fessing up to Miguel when he returns wanting to know what’s up and about the other versions of you, and after sitting though Miguel cursing him out for getting into his database (and him fussing at Lyla for letting him do it) he breaks the news to hobie that there are no other versions of you

Oh???

he’d be more amused by this than anything

after learning this his compliments will change to him constantly making comments about how he’s the luckiest guy in the world multiverse to have the only y/n

will make sly jokes about keeping you safe because if he loses you there’s no replacement, which earns him a nice smack on the head

he’ll ask about how you feel about knowing you’re the only version of you, since as cool as it is being able to see other visions of how you could’ve turned out would be something you’d have to miss on

— MIGUEL O’HARA

in my eyes miguel wouldn’t react as chill or as positive as either of the other two would’ve

he finds out when he’s regularly checking up on the universes and starts to notice a small detail that no matter where he searches he’s never seen another you, which was likely unusual considering the amount of repeats and variants of every other person

when he asks lyla to go through the database to see what she can find, she confirms his suspicions that the only pattern in every other universe aside from your own is that there is no other version of you, not a single person even remotely close to your looks or personality in fact

i don’t think miguel would bother telling you this after he finds out and wouldn’t let you know unless you ever came to the realization yourself and asked him about it since of course he of all people would know

he’d appreciate the fact that he still ended up with the only version of you to exist, but due to what happened with his daughter during that absolute disaster a little voice in the back of his mind would be worried that if he lost you you’d truly be gone forever

one day after he finds out you two would be relaxing somewhere by yourselves and miguel would casually bring up what you think your variants would be like, just to hear you voice your thoughts on the matter

he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t cross his mind once he found out there was no way to confirm it because there’s only one y/n

miguel would ever in his dreams think of just going to another universe to replace you with another variant of you if something happened (or would he? that’d be such a good fanfic idea i’d so write that for the angst), it was a cruel thought, but know that’s not an option makes him appreciate and treasure being with you way more often that he did before, so expect him to be more clingy for no apparent reason for a while once he finds out

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #spider man #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #hobie headcanons #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spider punk

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princessshikky · 1 month

Text

Okay, this post has been a long time coming.

Basically, there is a huge amount of misconceptions about liujiu and their history, and it's very frustrating to see in arguments about canon, so. I'm here to clear Liu-shidi's reputation and browbeat SJ with a newspaper (affectionate).

There is a whooping total of 4 liujiu interaction scenes in SVSSS. In chronological order:

The first meeting occurs at an inter-peak competition, where SJ hates LQG at first glance. LQG wins a sparring and has an air of "matter-of-fact arrogance" about him, which only strengthens SJ's dislike. What's interesting is that next SJ ambushes LQG after the sparring and "uses every means" to attack him, as recounted by Yue Qingyuan. Which does nothing to endear SJ to LQG and makes LQG very understandaby wary of SJ.

The second meeting occurs in a brothel. Backstory: SJ stumbles upon a Baizhan disciple named Ji Jue on the street, they have a quarrel, SJ beats and seriously injures Ji Jue, then goes to a brothel. LQG hears about it and rushes to "teach SJ a lesson". Interestingly, nowhere in the text is it mentioned that SJ is injured in any way after his scuffle with LQG, even though the fight has apparently taken quite a while and LQG is a way better fighter than SJ.

The well mission. SJ, LQG and SQH are assigned to deal with some evil spirits in a remote village. Spirits fly out of an old well, one of them attempts to attack LQG from behind, SJ sees it and attacks the spirit, but accidentally brushes over LQG's shoulder, which LQG mistakes for an attempt to kill him. SQH tries to clear the misunderstanding, but SJ threatens him into silence. Again, LQG and SJ come to blows, but no injuries are mentioned.

The disciple acceptance ceremony. SJ and YQY are watching the potential recruits, LQG arrives, has a brief but civil conversation with YQY, SJ intervenes, LQG insults him and leaves.

That's it, folks! That's literally every liujiu interaction in canon! Now with this out of the way, let me disprove some of those fanons I see in liujiu fics every damn time I dare to open one.

LQG did not mistakenly believe SJ to be a son of a wealthy family. Nowhere in the book does LQG ever comment on SJ's origin. This is a fanon from "The Grand Unified Theory of Shen Qingqiu", which is a great fic, don't get me wrong, but god did it mess with people's perception!

In the same vein, LQG never accused SJ of being lazy. Ever. That was QQQ.

LQG wasn't unreasonable to immediately assume SJ was trying to kill him during the well assignment. Think of what LQG knows about SJ at this point: SJ is willing to ambush someone because of entirely stupid and petty reasons like a lost sparring; SJ is perfectly willing to seriously injure his fellow disciple (see: Ji Jue); SJ is constantly threatening to kill LQG (mentioned in the brothel scene); SJ is not above using dirty tricks to achieve his ends. Yes, the suspicion made SJ feel bad, which is perfectly understandable (poor SJ was just trying to help!), but it wasn't entirely baseless. LQG's conclusion was based on SJ's prior behavior.

Speaking of SJ's dirty tricks: no, when people mentioned SJ's penchant for dishonest means, they weren't talking about harmless tricks like qiankun buttons. SQH insinuates in canon that SJ wouldn't be above shanking LQG with a poisoned knife in the middle of a sparring (Airplane extra, when he watches LQG spar with SY!SQQ), and Ji Jue, someone who's fought SJ personally, seems to agree.

LQG did not condemn SJ's womanizing and/or his visits to the brothel. The only times when LQG comments on SQQ's private life in canon have to do with LBH and bingqiu. To put it simply: LQG did not give a damn about SJ allegedly spending time with sex workers. Nor did LQG constantly stalk SJ to try and catch him in a brothel. Nor did LQG ever lecture SJ about sex being bad for his cultivation (that was YQY, but no one ever remembers this bit).

Actually, it can be inferred that most of the time liujiu tried to ignore each other when forced to be in each other's presence. They only interact when they cannot avoid it/when SJ does (or seems to do) something so shitty LQG cannot ignore it. Or when SJ deliberately attracts LQG's attention.

Conversely, LQG did not constantly pursue SJ demanding a sparring with him. Not ever. I have no idea where this particular fanon stems from.

LQG did not gossip about SJ's private life. It is never mentioned in the book; however, it is said that several Baizhan disciples knew of SJ visiting a pleasure house. Any of them could've spread the rumour; or hell, it could've been someone else who saw SJ entering the place at a later date. Or the brothel workers may have shared the story with their other clients. It's never clearly stated, but there's no reason to believe LQG specifically was the one responsible for spreading this rumour. For one, YQY promises SJ that LQG would keep quiet about their skirmish. Also, it just isn't in character for LQG to gossip.

Just... every time people write liujiu, they go out of their way to completely erase SJ's shitty behavior, blaming all of the bad blood between them on LQG "misunderstanding" the poor innocent SJ. Oh, if only LQG knew the truth, he'd immediately recognise the error of his ways!.. Except no, actually, it's not how it is at all. And I'm so tired of the people constantly mistaking fanons for canon.

#the scum villain's self-saving system #svsss #liujiu #liu qingge #shen jiu

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