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lnfours · 7 months

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half of me, half of you | l.n

summary: welcome to the world, baby norris <3 and welcome back to part 3 of this little universe we have going on here! 🩷 requested by anonymous: ‘Omg part three for forevermore??? Like the wedding and then maybe kids🫣’

warnings: pregnancy, surprises, hormones, lando finding out he’s going to be a girl dad 🥹, a whole lot of fluff n stuff

masterlist | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

“how much longer?” you asked, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in the bathroom. the brunette girl swiped down on her phone, displaying the timer she had set almost 2 minutes ago.

“30 seconds..” she trailed off, eyes meeting your nervous figure as you bounced your leg up and down. you sent her a soft smile back, beating yourself up for not taking a test sooner.

the past week you had felt terrible. felt like someone had hit you with a bus, thrown it in reverse and then backed up over you. your emotions were all over the place, you couldn’t keep anything down, and suddenly you were craving things you didn’t even like.

your suspicions had brought you to lily, your best friend. alex’s girlfriend, the girl you could rely on for anything.

the alarm of the timer echoed throughout the hotel bathroom. you jumped, eyes quickly moving to the box where the lily had shoved in the little white stick.

you felt like you were going to throw up again because of how the nerves were shaking through your body, “can you…?”

“you don’t wanna read it?”

you shook your head fast, “no, i’m scared,”

she frowned softly, kneeling in front of you, “whatever happens, whatever you decide, i love you and i’m here for you.”

you nodded, letting her hand you the box, “what if he doesn’t feel the same? what if he’s not on the same page? i mean we haven’t even really talked about kids yet, i-“

lily was quick to calm your rambling, coaching you to just breathe for a second. you nodded at her, following her direction as you sucked in a shaky breath.

“for as long as i’ve known lando, he’s always talked about wanting kids,” she said, “and it’s no secret that he wants them with you. he wouldn’t have put that ring on your finger otherwise.”

you smiled softly down at the ring on your left hand, letting out a shaky, “you’re right,”

“usually am,” she smiled back at you as you both let out a laugh, “you ready?”

you nodded again, opening the box and fishing out the little white stick that was about to change your whole life. you flipped it over, turned it the right way around and read it over and over again.

it was positive. you were pregnant.

your silence was an answer in itself for lily as she smiled, cheering and hugging you as you let some of the tears fall down your cheeks and splash onto the marbled tile beneath you.

she had tears in her eyes as well, “you’re gonna be a mom!”

you smiled, letting out a soft laugh in disbelief, “i’m gonna be a mom,”

“the best one out there,” she smiled, pulling you up for a proper hug, “oh i’m so happy for you.”

you laughed again, thankful to have her in your life before you pulled away. you wiped the tears off your cheeks, “guess i should call my ob,” you said and she nodded quickly, “and figure out how i’m going to tell lando.”

lily hummed, “i’m sure you’ll think of something special.”

and you did. you were fiddling with the ring on your left finger, dressed in a black slip dress you had brought with you to the uk. silverstone was the best place on earth, his home race, where his friends were, his family.

and where you were about to tell him he was going to be a dad.

you had given lily the ‘ok’ to tell alex so that you had two people to make sure he would get to the surprise. they both didn’t waste any time, making it their top priority to get lando and bring him back to where you needed him as soon as possible.

you were seated on the blanket in the grass, looking up when you heard footsteps making their way to you. you looked up, the boy dressed in black with his signature white mclaren backwards cap catching your eye.

“hey,” he smiled, letting out a puff of air and looking around at the blanket you had set up, “alex and lily said you had something planned?”

you nodded, “come sit,”

he joined you on the blanket, careful not to knock over the gift box sitting in the middle. you smiled over at him, sensing his nerves.

“what’s up, love?”

you tilted your head towards the white box with a pretty bow on the top, “open it,”

he raised an eyebrow at you, “is something going to pop out at me?”

you laughed, “no! just open it,”

he sighed, complying as he kept it at a safe distance while he took the lid off. once the coast was clear, he reached his hand inside. he felt the plastic stick in his hand and what felt like a photo. he fished them out, eyes landing on the pregnancy test and the picture of the ultrasound you had to confirm that you were pregnant.

he gasped softly, immediately looking over at you before his eyes traveled down to your belly. he looked closely, now noticing the small bump that had formed. the one you had done a pretty damn good job of hiding from him for the past week and a half.

“baby,” he started, licking his lips as he sniffled softly, “are you being serious right now?”

you smiled, “deadly.”

he dropped the things back in the box, moving to carefully pull you in the tightest hug he could get you in, “i’m gonna be a dad.”

you nodded, pulling back and wiping under your eyes with the back of your hands, “yeah,”

“and you’re gonna be a mom,” he was really stating the obvious but it brought more tears to your eyes when he spoke, “you’re gonna be the best mom, baby.”

you kissed his cheek softly, “and you’re going to be the best dad.”

he smiled, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “i love you.”

“i love you.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the months moved on and baby girl norris had finally entered the world, and lord did she have lando wrapped around her little finger already.

from the moment the two met, the nurses handing the little pink blanket over to him, it was game over. her big eyes, which resembled yours, looking straight up at him and her happy gurgles had his heart exploding as he looked down at his baby girl.

“hi, angel,” he cooed, fingers softly brushing against her skin over the tiny little moles and freckles that littered her skin, “oh, you’re perfect.”

you smiled over at your now husband, watching the two interact, “she is,”

he looked up at you, “and so are you, baby,”

you smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he sat next to you with the little girl in his arms. she was starting to struggle to stay awake, barely keeping her eyes open.

the two of you watched in contentment, his eyes a little watery before he looked back over at you, “we made that,”

you let out a soft chuckle, “we did a good job, yeah?”

he laughed with you, pressing a kiss to your temple, “we did,” he said, “i think you did all the heavy lifting, though. i was just here for the ride,”

you laughed, meeting his eyes, “mm, true,”

he smiled back with that same boyish grin to you, releasing a soft breath, “guess we should probably name her, huh?”

you hummed, “still like the one we had picked?”

he looked down now at the little girl in his arms who now had her eyes closed, sometime during your conversation she had fallen asleep. she was so peaceful and perfect and everything he loved about you wrapped up into one tiny little human. a tiny little human he got to create with you, the other half of his beating heart.

“i do, yeah,” he nodded, “welcome to the world wren norris.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you made your way up the stairs, a smile spreading on your face as you heard the little girls’ giggle coming from her bedroom. you leaned up against the door way, trying hard not to snicker at your husband who had found himself joining your daughter and her stuffed animals for a tea party.

you watched the two talk about tea and serve them to the dolls and stuffed animals sitting in their respective chairs for a couple minutes before you walked into the room.

“hey, baby,” lando said when you knelt down next to him, giving you the biggest smile, “joining us for some tea?”

“for a bit sure,” you smiled, “everyone will be here soon.”

“oh, mommy, look!” wren said excitedly, “daddy and i drew a picture for you.”

“oh, yeah?” you asked, watching the girl grab the piece of paper, “what is it?”

“we drew daddy’s race car!” she smiled brightly back at you.

you took the piece of paper, noticing the three other stick-figure men in the picture, another one in orange, one in blue and one in red.

“and you drew uncle carlos, oscar and danny?”

she nodded, “it was daddy’s idea.”

you laughed softly at your grinning husband, rolling your eyes playfully, “of course it was.”

you spent some time with you little family, letting them tell you all about their afternoon tea session with mr bear, kitty and mrs froggie, all the stuffed animals sitting in their respective seats.

you grabbed lando’s arm softly, pulling it towards you to read the time on his watch, “we gotta get you ready, wren. everyone’s gonna be here soon!”

she smiled, “can i still wear my princess dress?”

“of course, love,” you smiled. she happily jumped from her seat and ran off to her closet. you looked over at your husband, a smile still on both of your faces.

while you helped change wren into her princess dress, lando had started greeting those who had come to help celebrate your daughter’s third birthday.

it wasn’t long until the little girl left your side, immediately running over to her favorite uncle, “uncle max!”

you smiled when he bent down, picking her up and she squealed happily, “there’s the birthday girl!”

he tickled her sides playfully, her laughter booming as you joined your husband, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“did you get a pony this year?” he asked and you both snickered as wren shook her head.

“mommy said no,” she said, “but she said i could get a puppy!”

“a puppy?!”

you looked over at lando, “i said maybe,”

lando shrugged, “i know you’ll crack.”

“oh she has you wrapped around her finger, mate,” max laughed, looking back at the little girl he was holding, “don’t ya little one?”

“easy, fewtrell,” you laughed, “don’t give her ideas.”

he laughed softly, the little girl going back to her dad to say hi to her uncle alex and aunt lily, leaving you and max standing in the kitchen. he pulled you into his side, giving you a squeeze, “how’re you? i mean, other than enjoying being a mom.”

you laughed, “i’m good,” you let out of a soft breath, “where’s p?”

“she wasn’t feeling well, but she told me to say hi to everyone.”

you frowned, “damn, tell her i said hi and that i hope she feels better.”

he nodded, “i will,”

you both trailed off as you watched lando and alex playfully chase wren, trying to see who could pick her up first, “so, a puppy, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, “it was all him! not me,”

he laughed, “sounds about right, he’d do anything for that little girl.”

you smiled, watching your husband and daughter laugh as alex and lily talked with the birthday girl, asking her questions that made her giggle in response, “he would, and i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader imagine #lando norris fluff #fluff #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #dad!lando #dad!lando norris #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren f1

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heartfullofleeches · 1 month

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Fletchers reaction to foxboy willingly kissing him for the first time

Yan Farmer Rabbit + Fox Hybrid Reader

[Reader has no mentioned gender but they are referred to as wife]

"Damn it!"

The knife clatters to the kitchen floor with a dull thud. Chest heaving with each pain breath, you fall to your knees - shirt clutched painfully tight in your claws as wetness drips down your cheeks.

Three weeks... Three weeks you've lived with the farmer and he hasn't asked you to lift a finger. This is it.... isn't it? It's finally happening. You were a such an idiot to think it wouldn't. He's testing you... A trial to see how useful you'll be to him in the long run.

"Hey, Sweetness. Something came up down at the general store. Shouldn't be gone long, but- think you can cut up the potatoes for dinner while I'm out? It's not hard. I'll show you how to do it."

He made it look so easy. Each slice against the cutting board so neat, precise - perfect. Just like him. What does he want from you? Does he actually think you'll make for a good partner? You can't even cut up vegetables to save your own tail- Just what the hell does he want from you?!

"Hun? That you?"

Shit. "Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

You wipe at your eyes with the backs of your palms, scrambling to pick yourself off the floor before he sees you. He can't see you like this- The thunder of his footsteps fills you with a kind of terror you haven't felt since you got locked in that kitchen coop.

"Y/n?"

Your back hits the cupboard wall. Fletcher's large, imposing figure hovers at the door frame. Two steps into the kitchen is all it takes for him to march up to the table. To see your mistakes. Too thick. Too thin. Sliced indiead of cubed like he asked. The farmer takes a breath. He kneels down in front of you, hand perched on the tile a hairline away from your shivering legs.

"Hon-"

"Don't-" You bite. "Just don't..... I missed up. I always do. Why do you even want me here? I can't do anything right... I'm a terrible wife."

"Hey!-" Fletcher grips your shoulder, tugging you against his chest. "Don't you ever, ever talk about yourself like that. You're fine. It's okay. All you need is a little practice. Just calm down."

Liar- He's a fucking liar. "What if I don't get better with practice?! What if all I ever am to you is dead weight?"

Fletcher kisses the top of your head, voice small - crushed by the sounds of your sobs against his chest. "That's fine with me too, Sweetheart.... That's fine with me too. I didn't bring you here because I wanted a maid. I just wanted you. That's all I have ever wanted since I laid eyes on you. I love you- Always have, always will."

His hold on you lessens as your whines and sniffles crawl to a still. Your puffy eyes cross his as you lift your head from his chest. He tries to smile - delicately raising his enormous paw to the fuzzy flesh of your cheek. He rests his nose against yours - just like he always did when he was trying to comfort you or feel a connection, lips inches from yours.

"Whether you can dice up a thousand potatoes or not at all. Even if you make a mess of everything you touch. I'll always be here for you no matter what. I'll always love you - no matter what."

Your arms creep up to his neck, the space between you null as your lips ghost over his. Fletcher stiffens, unsure - fearful of scaring you off now if he takes the dive for you. And so you take it-

The kiss is hesitant. Gentle as the hand stroking at your back, washing away any doubts left of his conviction towards you. Tear drops fall at your skin, but you have none more to cry. Is he?... You pull away as the droplets drip from Fletcher's chin into his already stained tee.

"My bad." The farmer barks out a dry chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop the flow. "Now's not the time to get emotional, but I just- I'm so glad to have you here. With me."

"I know... I'm glad to be here too now, but um... Fetch?"

"Yeah?"

Your ears lay flat against your skull as your stomach whines in hunger. "Can we... finish up with dinner now?"

The laugh Fletcher bellows is far less restrained. "Sure. What kind of man would I be if I let my wife starve? I'll tell you some more tricks will we're at it. You'll be a head chef in no time, sweetheart.... And even if you aren't - I'll cherish you all the same."

#Fletcher my oc #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere #yandere fluff #yandere farmer #Yandere hybrid

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aether-starlight · 2 months

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Gymnopédie - Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, innuendos.

Summary: You confuse Zayne’s number with your trusted ride back home. When he insists on picking you up himself, how could you refuse?

Word Count: 1.7 K

The world was spinning, but in a pleasant way, as if gravity no longer affected you. You felt close to floating instead of walking, weightless as the cherry blossom petals that drifted through the air.

You were so light, in fact, that your fingers struggled to exert any pressure on the numbers in your screen, phone nearly slipping out of your hands and crashing into the pavement.

You leaned against Tara, both of you giggling about nothing in particular as you sat by the sidewalk. Her arm was wrapped around your shoulders, the sides of your heads pressed together.

Mojitos had been flowing like water tonight, a celebratory dinner after a mission completed with no casualties, hunter or civilian.

For a moment, you had been able to let go, put down the weight of grief, fear and uncertainty in favor of comradery, cheers and funny anecdotes from Captain Jenna and the eldest members of UNICORN.

Surrounded by your peers, you knew for sure someone had your back, and they wouldn’t let you fall without falling themselves first.

Pressing your phone to your ear—and almost dropping it again—, you impatiently waited for the other end to pick up.

Absentmindedly, you drew a strand of Tara’s silky hair between your tingling fingers.

“Your hair is soooo pretty,” you hiccuped.

“Oooooo. Thank you!” Tara pouted, close to tears, redder than ever. You probably looked no better.

“You’re welcome! I need you to give me some tips because ever since that wanderer burnt half of my freaking scalp—“

“Hello?”

You had forgotten you were on the phone.

“Ah, sorry Mister Song, hi~ I don’t see you.”

There were a few seconds of silence, and you almost pulled down your phone to check if Mister Song hadn’t hung up on you.

“It’s Zayne.”

The smile fell off your face, and like a fool, you double checked the contact name, as well as the time.

It was 3 am.

“Goddess, I’m so sorry. I thought—“

He cut you off, voice thick with sleep, not missing an inch of its imposing nature.

“Are you drunk?”

You winced—that was his admonishment voice, the one he used when your bood tests weren’t within standards, or you had circles under your eyes.

Like a huge cosmic joke, Tara giggled, leaning closer to slur:

“Is that your Doctor? He does sound as grumpy as you s—” You pressed your free hand to her lips, her whole face burning like a furnace.

The silence was deafening. Unbeknownst to you, Zayne had grimaced on the other side of the line, a half amused twist of his lips.

“I’m good,” you lied through your teeth.

“Sure,” he replied goodnaturedly. “Send me your location.”

Defeated, you hid behind a curtain of your hair. A terrible decision, considering how the world began to spin, even as you closed your eyes.

“Okay.”

By the time Zayne arrived, Tara was snoring, head resting on your shoulder. Meanwhile, you had been sipping on a bottle of water Captain Jenna had kindly given you before leaving.

“Hi,” you greeted once he lowered the passenger’s window, mortified.

His gaze met yours, inscrutable. He looked as awake as ever, had it not been for the slight ruffle of his hair, not quite as perfect as he was used to wearing it.

“Oh, you’re here!” Tara slurred, suddenly awake. “This one wouldn’t shut up about you, you know?”

You shut your eyes tightly. Maybe this was all an alcohol induced fantasy.

A swift pinch to your elbow let you know that sadly, it was not the case.

“I’ll assist you.” Was Zayne’s only reply, door slamming it his wake as he approached to hold onto Jenna’s arm.

If there was the ghost of a smile curling at the edges of his mouth, you preferred not to acknowledge it.

“Perhaps your friend could share more details on your opinion of me,” he teased over Tara’s head, hematite eyes full of mirth.

Now it was your face burning up. You were going to kill her when she was sober.

“Of course!” Tara hicupped happily. “She said she missed you,” she sing songed, extending the last word to an unnatural degree.

Tara —thank the Goddess— became dead weight as soon as her head hit the inside of Zayne’s ridiculously expensive car.

Which left you in a somewhat awkward silence. You said somewhat because Zayne seemed as comfortable as ever.

A low melody played from the stereo, something calm and melancholic. He had told you the name once: Gymnopédie No. 1.

Only once Tara was safely back to her parent’s house—her mother hugged you in thanks for taking care of her, making a tight knot grow at the back of your throat— was that Zayne dared to speak.

“This Mister Song, who is he?” He inquired, something flickering through his features much too quick for your dizzy mind to comprehend. His knuckles became pronounced, hands tightening against the wheel.

“My driver?” You replied, confused.

He hummed, eyes on the road.

“A close…friend of yours?”

“Does it matter?”

He shrugged, but it was far too stiff to be genuine.

“It always matters who you place your trust in.”

Silence reigned after that, nothing but your breathing breaking it.

What he said made sense, but the depth of his frown didn’t. He was driving you crazy. Hot and cold, hot and cold.

It was only once you had replayed the conversation in your head, that realization crashed over you. Something somersaulted in your stomach, filled you with an indescribable emotion.

“Zayne…are you jealous?”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling, but it was a lost cause, mirth had permeated into your every word.

This was the closest you had seen him to bashful, pale pink blooming on his cheeks, Adam’s apple bobbing as he cleared his throat.

He loosened his hold on the wheel, letting the car come to a stop, as you were now at his place.

Your smile withered a bit at his lack of response, and took the brief silence as an opportunity to admire him. Zayne’s mouth had tilted down in a now sullen mien.

There wasn’t anything precisely pointing to it, but you could tell he had built a wall, frozen distance even within the warmth of his car.

“You are right. It is none of my concern,” he said, voice icy and impersonal.

Gripping his chin between your fingers, you guided his gaze back to you.

“Mister Song is a seventy year old man. I met him when his taxi was totaled by a Wanderer attack. He’s been my trusted driver ever since.”

He let the information sink in, the jealousy brimming inside him simmering.

A jealousy he knew he had no right to, which only served to upset him further.

You were not his.

But he was yours.

And yet, something in the way you looked at him begged to differ. You weren’t his because he couldn’t bring himself to ask, because he was a fool.

“What’s that look for?” You whispered, fingers trailing down his shoulder, basking in the soft fabric of his black shirt.

“What look?”

You tried to replicate his gesture, brows pulling together, almost making you go cross eyed.

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

“Hey, I’m trying,” you complained, raising your hand to intertwine with the other at the nape of his neck.

“I didn’t comment on it.”

“You didn’t have to.” Your words still had a slurred edge to them.

“There is no winning with you.”

You laughed back.

“Just admit it, you’re obsessed with me.”

“Who said that?”

It was only then that a question that had been begging to be asked rose from the back of your mind.

“Why are we at your place?” You tilted your head to the side.

The petal spots in Zayne’s cheeks deepened in color.

“I would like to keep you under my observation, as you are still intoxicated.” He hesitated for a second, a low exhale escaping him. “If I have your permission.”

Your smile tempered into something different. Not upset, but serious.

As you regarded Zayne, something tightened in your chest. It hurt, but left you wanting.

Goddess, you wanted, you wanted, you wanted. It was a prayer your body hummed whenever he was close.

“I’d love to, Zayne,” you whispered. brushing a thumb to the edge of his jaw before letting go.

A light dinner, anc copious amounts of water afterwards, you were lying side by side with Zayne, wearing one of his shirts, and joggers that were definitely much to big for you.

The lamps on each side of his bed were on, as you were having a light conversation. He was resting against the headboard, while you had your face shamelessly pressed to the pillow on your side.

The scent of it soothed you, of lavender and soap.

“I have sent you letters,” he denied, voice rough with sleep.

“If only I could have managed to read them.”

He frowned deeper at your poke at his chicken scratch. Some things were just inescapable in the medical field, you supposed.

You leaned closer, finding his gaze even as he purposefully avoided it, suddenly brimming with affection.

“Aw, was that too mean?” You cupped his face between your hands, and much like the black stray cat you liked to feed, he reluctantly leaned into your touch.

Boldened by it, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I did read them, you know?” Your hands cradled the sides of his neck, thumbs resting below his earlobe. “I kept them all.”

Zayne’s lips twitched, but he managed to remain serious, gray eyes boring into yours.

“I kept your replies too,” he murmured, turning to lay a kiss on your wrist. “Though I was tempted to correct some grammar mistakes.”

You huffed, dropping your hands.

“Rude! For your information, my writing is impeccable.”

“You said perchance an unacceptable amount.” He chided, seeming to mull it over. “I don’t think that word means what you think it does.”

He was probably right.

“Whatever,” you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back against the head of his bed, setting your eyes forward.

The mattress dipped beside you, hinting at Zayne’s closeness.

“Are you upset?” He asked with an undertone of mirth to his faux concern.

You felt yourself flush deeper, forcing out a sarcastic reply.

“What makes you think that?”

He pressed his mouth to the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“As you so eloquently put into words, I’m obsessed with you.”

When you turned your head, your noses brushed.

“Yeah?” You breathed out. “How much?”

“A ridiculous amount,” he admitted, fixated on your lips, minty breaths mingling.

You smiled, pressing closer until your mouth brushed his.

“Good.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #zayne x reader #love and deep space zayne

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eloquent-edits · 2 months

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🗡️ “I can assure you, we are just friends.”

definitely not something that’s a little more than friends 🗡️ friends with benefits prompts 🗡️ 18+ prompts

While Person A is chatting with their friends, Person B sidles up to A and subtly trails a finger up their spine (does A stutter? go completely silent at the electricity going through their body? start to get red but manage to keep their composure? TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS)

B begs A to not leave any marks because they just can’t let this secret get out

For that beach episode: A takes off their shirt, exposing scratch marks from a recent session… B hides a sly grin as A is questioned about who they’re with

A is very physically affectionate in general, but has fallen into the habit of only bothering B in public with it

^ A wants to interact with B in many ways and just ends up biting their arm jokingly to satiate that desire (yes, their friends think this is weird)

B needs to be held accountable for finishing their work, so A comes over to hang out… they do not get work done for a while

At a party, B can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when they spot A flirting with someone

A’s childhood friend is in town and A is super excited to have them meet B (B is quietly panicking over making a good impression and wondering what A has said about them)

A and B are in the same anatomy class and they spend a lot of time studying together (A is most certainly a hands-on learner hehehehe)

“Is that B’s shirt?” “What? Oh, uh, yes… My shirt got dirty the last time I was over there so they’re washing mine for me.”

“Is that A’s shirt?” “Yes. What about it?” “…Does A know you have their shirt?” “Nope!”

They really only planned on the midnight rendezvous, not falling asleep afterwards, so A and B go get morning coffee together (they are both very grumpy but still enjoying each other’s company)

Inside jokes during sexy times bleed into their normal banter, leading to some questionable looks from their friends

A gets a little drunk and B expects them to slip up and expose their true relationship, but instead A is very wholesome and remains steadfast on their boundaries; B is so proud of them for this

B is desperately trying to get something off their mind, so A offers a distraction for the night… it’s Mario Kart and whoever loses owes the other a favor

Any of their plans to go out have to include wiggle room in case they get preoccupied (soon it’s not just B that’s always late to events)

While their friends are occupied in another room, A and B intertwine their bodies and try to stay quiet—key word here is TRY

“I bet A would really like [insert kink here]…” “Nah, they’re not really into that.” “How the fuck do you know that?”

All their friends take the BDSM test as a joke and A and B secretly take notes on what the other person likes/dislikes to make the benefits side better

If given the choice, A will always pick the seat next to B so they can tease them under the table

During a passionate session, A accidentally draws blood while gripping B’s back (A apologizes over and over while tending to B, who just has a shit-eating grin the whole time)

Whenever B cracks yet another terrible joke, A has to refrain from kissing it off their face

A and B take a break from the benefits whenever one of them wants to pursue someone else (your characters can have healthy boundaries and communication!!! I am BEGGING y’all to write characters that actually communicate with each other)

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glassrowboat · 4 months

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Morning After

Authors note: This includes a variety of my own headcanons on these characters. The reader is gender neutral. This includes only the male harbingers, but I am willing to write one for the chicks too ^^

Capitano.

-The instant you stirred in your sleep, just the slightest twitch, and you were pinned to the mattress with a looming figure above you. His black hair tickled your skin, swaying back and forth from the sudden movement, but that was barely a concern when this man who had been so sweet with you last night was suddenly acting like a switch that flipped off in his brain. All you could tell was one discernable thing after the sudden surprise: there was no escape if he didn't want there to be.

-”Capitano?” You called out, voice hesitant and barely a whisper as fear choked back the ability to speak confidently.

-Immediately the tense nature that had over taken his form fell, shoulders no longer strung together as that soldier who had been pinning you down held you close and started apologizing for startling you.

-He didn't have to say it, he didn't want to, bit for a moment there the Captain had mistaken you for someone that crept into his chambers with ill intent. He's a soldier. War is what he's known for. This caution just comes with the territory.

-To make up for his own actions he makes sure you're well fed, given a hearty breakfast (one a little too big for you to fully eat but he doesn't mind giving you some Tupperware to take it home in) and tea.

-It's just he's a terrible conversationalist, barely talking as he just nods along to whatever you say, making you carry the flow the entire morning as he adds in an occasion “yes, interesting, or no.”

-At least he's handsome under that helmet.

Childe.

-Fell off the bed the moment he saw you, a shout falling from his lips from the surprise of the fall and well, this naked person in his bed.

-Why he didn't expect you to wake up and throw a pillow at his head for being so darn loud when you have a hangover? Well, only Celestia knows. Though he didn't bother to block it, simply accepted getting hit as it didn't even knock him back.. well that is if he didn't play along and dramatically fell down onto the floor.

-”Are you always such a drama queen?”

-”A guy can't play along with a joke?”

-Very sweet, but a little bit annoying as he asks about you in as many questions he can think of. What's your favorite color? What's your job?

-Admittedly Childe has never had a one night stand before so he doesn't know what to do in this position so when you give him a sweet smile and tell him to just to let you get dressed for now he goes to get a stray shirt for you.

-Definitely wants to see you again, and not just in the bedroom.

-”So where do you come from?”

-”Give me five minutes for fucks sake.”

Dottore.

-First off, what? He's aware each harbinger has their own little dedicated fan club, even him…for some reason. Yet for him to willingly bring someone, possibly one of them, to his bed? People aren't allowed in his personal quarters. Hell, he barely uses it himself, opting to sleep on that one couch in the laboratory. So why the switch in his normal behavioral patterns?

-(I personally see Dottore as a virgin so for this dweeb to lose it this way-)

-Admittedly, he's on edge from trying to remember what happened, the haze of sleep, and the shock of seeing someone he apparently trusted enough to bring to bed. It only made sense he was scowling at this sleeping body. It wouldn't be easy enough to just call it a new test subject, use the sheets as restraints to drag this stranger down to his lab and shove them in a cell but..

-Maybe not this time.

-Instead he gets up and throws on some clothes as quickly as possible, making sure to slot his mask in place despite the fact you have very obviously already seen what lies underneath. That and more.

-It has proven more useful than not to use that thing to hide his expressions.

- Depending on if he drank last night and that's what had him indulging in the warmth of another person's body, Dottore would have one of his clones stand by until you wake up. They can deal with the situation from there and take you home while he gets some caffeine in his body. An easy way to rid of a hangover and forget his newfound company.

-If it was a completely sober decision, Dottore no longer has the excuse that he simply got ahead of himself from the drink and would therefore be hostile in response. Unable to put up with this one bit, he would be telling his bed partner to get dressed and head home already so he can get back to work instead of watching over pointless little you.

-Don't try and say anything about possibly being emotionally attached, it would only anger him. Boy is not used to being open or vulnerable with anyone and you suddenly appearing and having held him so close last night would only set him off in the worst of ways.

Pantalone.

-First thing this man notices is he's just not as comfy as usual, somehow this mattress isn't right, he isn't sinking into the soft plush he spent thousands on. Not even his haze of grogginess was enough to make tossing and turning twist his body into comfort. (Goldilocks having motherfucker). So with a steady hand he reaches out to find his glasses on the nightstand, silver chains rattling on the surface as he pulls them close.

-A one night stand isn't an uncommon thing to the regrator, for him it's happened a small handful of times before but it's never something he's typically the better for in the morning. A man of his position caught slinking into a woman's bedroom as they drunkenly grope at eachother was far from a good look. Not to mention you never knew if the individual would keep their mouth shut.

-That has been a problem with one particular individual in the past that has henceforth been ‘dealt with.’

-But the person laying besides him was still conked out and wrapped in a good majority of the blankets the bedding had to offer. Well, a bit of a thief aren't they? Pantalone almost wanted to laugh but kept his mouth sealed shut, already knowing it's best not to wake you.

-Slowly he got up and out of the bed, trying to keep it from creaking too loudy, to put on last night's clothes. He'll take a shower and get changed into something clean later.

-With one last peak towards the stranger he spent the night with Pantalone slipped out of the front door.

Pierro.

-He's confused.

-Now he understands what happened, the sight of you naked and curled up into him is more than enough to make that clear; though your underwear basically on his favorite pillow definitely would have gotten the point across either way. But, like, him? You who look so much younger, livelier compared to what Pierro sees in the mirror every day after five hundred years haunting him.

-Maybe that joke the second made about people liking ‘older folks’ was based on reality.

-Would greedily allow himself to hold you in his arms for a time. It started with him first saying one minute, that's all he'd allow himself. Then that turned into five, then ten, then twenty. Eventually he would barely wish to nudge you awake even though he knows better.

-Don't go getting attached when there's so much left to do.

-When he finally did wake you up he did his best to make sure you wouldn't get startled, softly calling out the name he was given last night. It's just a shame you do, startling as your hand nearly wacked his face from sheer shock. (Though who can blame you? It's not everyday you blearliy open your eyes, vision still blurry as you take in a man with white hair and stars in his- wait is that the fucking Pierro? Oh fuck).

-The type to help you find your clothes and call for a cab so he knows you get home safely.

-Now all that's left is trying to figure out how to hide the hickey you planted on him.

Scaramouche.

-Let's be real here, you're not making it to the morning.

-He had no clue why he was allowing this, allowing a humans lips to fall to his own with such fevered need. In any other situation he'd be pushing them off, telling this person they're a useless worm that shouldn't ever have walked these lands if all they was going to do was use their life to paw at him. Oh but to worshipped was a delight.

-Kisses pressed to the wooden skin of his puppet body like small prayers to the God he will one day be. This is what humans are made for, aren't they? To give their all to a greater being. So readily Scaramouche let himself be tugged along as you pulled him to wherever you pleased, ready to lavish in the attention he so rarely got.

-A human isn't a threat after all.

-Yet when you tugged on his short, pulling them down just low enough for your mouth to eagerly await something filling it, everything took a turn for the worst.

-”Wait a minute, you don't have genitals?”

-And in a heartbeat you were struck with a bolt of lightning that had you dead on the spot.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #hoyoverse #x reader #capitano x reader #capitano #childe x reader #dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #scaramouche x reader #dottore #pantalone #childe #tartaglia x reader #gn reader #headcanons #banner by cafekitsune

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 6 days

Text

A hand dynamometer. A device to measure a person's grip strength. Your friend bought it off from somewhere during one of her impulsive shopping sprees. She lent it to you for the day.

You tried it out yourself, squeezing the handle as hard as you could and having your whole arm contracting. You were lukewarm with your results, your strength fell into the average category. Nothing more, nothing less.

You kept it away, forgetting about it for a while and your friend did so too. It's almost like she gifted it to you.

Until one day, you were searching for something from your drawers. You stumbled upon the dynamometer again.

You were curious about Yves's grip strength, he's quite lean and built. His readings must be high, but you wouldn't know until you've tested it on him.

So you went back out to your living room. Yves was folding your laundry neatly, it was warm and fragrant as he did it for you earlier. His fingers smoothened the wrinkles delicately, caring for everything you own.

Yves didn't have to do your chores, but he insisted because he said he loves doing it. Especially when it's in service to someone he loves to death; you.

He did offer to let you move in with him. Although it was tempting, you didn't want to feel like you're taking advantage of his willingness to take care of you. It would be even worse if you lived with him, Yves would become your full time maid! It feels unsettling despite Yves's reassurances that he's enjoying doing such tedious tasks.

"Yes, my love?" He asked while picking up a stack of shirts to be returned to your dresser; It's arranged by colour and makes it aesthetically pleasing to look at. Yves reflexively used a hand to tidy the strands of hair away from your face.

You presented him the device.

"Ah..." Yves smiled charmingly as he picked it up from your hands. You knew he knew what it was, this is something you've appreciated about this relationship. It's as if he would read your mind and words aren't necessary to convey your wants at times. It saved you a lot of energy and you felt... Special. It's something no one has ever made you feel before except your new partner.

Yves barely gave it a squeeze before you heard a defeaning crack that made your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. It also made Yves's green eyes widen in surprise too.

He slowly uncurled his slender, delicate fingers from the handle. "Oh?" Only for the gadget to fall apart, shard by shard, screw by screw and spring by spring. It crumbled like a scone to the floor, miscellaneous pieces bouncing off everywhere and landing on the tip of his high heels.

Your jaw was slack, just how strong is he? You remembered using all your might and maybe about to burst a vessel in your eye from the power, just so you could get an average score. Yet, Yves is leisurely holding your neatly folded clothes in one hand, while the other merely gives the dynamometer a light compression at best- and he obliterates it.

He sets your clothes back down into the clean laundry basket before kneeling on the floor to pick the debris up.

You asked him how he is so strong.

"I am terribly sorry for breaking your handheld dynamometer, dear." He spoke, picking the sharp pieces up first, so you wouldn't get cut. "But it was already faulty before I could even perform a fair test." Yves continued

That made a lot more sense. Because that device can handle up to 200 pounds, or 90 kilograms. To make it shatter like that, Yves would have to at least double, triple or even quadruple its maximum limit. And within a blink of an eye too? Without breaking a sweat or grimacing? It's impossible that Yves possessed superhuman strength to do that. Right?

"Where did this come from?" He asked, rising up to his full height as he carried the broken dynamometer in his deceptively dainty hands. "It isn't of good quality."

You told him it came from your friend, you have forgotten to return it to her and it seems like she has forgotten to ask for it back.

He cocked an eyebrow. "The one who regularly partakes in flagrant overconsumption?"

Your eyes darted around, trying to defend her. But ultimately, Yves is right. She buys more than she can afford. And she tends to visit sites that sell for cheap, but in horrible quality.

"That explains its... Intolerance." He brought the mangled dynamometer to your eye level. Yves sighed before chuckling, "I'll replace it as soon as I can."

Yves kissed you on the forehead before walking past you, so he could reach the trash can to dispose of the broken dynamometer.

You didn't catch the second, silent sigh of relief, though. He thinks he's getting sloppier, Yves was trying to impress you by achieving a grip strength comparable to those of elite athletes. But he was much stronger than that, Yves was supposed to control the contraction of his muscles to not scare you off. But he must have gotten distracted by your presence, all he could think of was how kissable your cheeks were and his cuteness aggression must have gotten the better of him. That damned device was actually functioning perfectly fine.

You seem to buy his coverup. But regardless, he must do something about his near uncontrollable urge to squeeze you out of sheer love and affection.

He dusted his hands off and turned around. Yves caught a glimpse of you carrying your folded stack of clothes back into your bedroom.

His eyes tracked your every movement, big or small. Cherishing and memorizing each sequence. Yves's face may be unreadable, but his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand and the momentarily dilation of his pupils could tell a story of a thousand words about his rawest feelings towards you.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader

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simp-ly-writes · 4 months

Text

Safehouse

Pairing: Platonic!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: When a mission goes south, the team is looking for a safehouse to keep their heads down but little do they know of the small family you keep hidden away from the world.

Warnings: some light swearing and depictions of blood.

A/N: Inspired by the Avengers: Age of Ultron - Safehouse Scene.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

The night mission had gone terribly. You had been deployed for over six months now and for all that stress to amount for nothing had a new rage encompassing your mind- distracting you from the bullet wound you sustained while trying to escape from a collapsing building. The intelligence your team was meant to collect falling down with it.

Shaking your head at the back of the SUV, you grasped your thigh tight- doing your best to hold the bleeding. Gaz was doing is best to help aid your wound as Johnny fished around in the trunk- throwing medical supplies over the seats as he let out a string of curse words and unknown English.

"Fucking-hell Johnny- you curse more than I do- and I am the one bleeding!" You croak out, sweat dripping down your forehead as Kyle fishes out the bullet. John is doing his best to keep the car ride smooth as Simon tries to radio Laswell to only receive silence in return.

Communications were down, Simon is now telling Price off for driving shit as you were about to lose your shit if Kyle did not get this bullet out of you sooner and Soap stopped sounding like a chicken with its head chopped off while flinging himself around in the trunk.

"Hows it going back there Gaz?" Price asks while gripping the steering wheel- your sharp breath intakes of pain are sending guilt flooding down his spine. He should have accounted for the possibility of more hostiles being at the location.

"Oh you know Captain, its going swell- blood and all sorts," Kyle retorts, his hands shaking as he finally gets ahold of the bullet and starts to carefully remove it from your body. The car runs over a hole in the road causing his hand to waver significantly as he apologizes to your groan of pain. The metal tools digging into your skin again.

"Any pain receivers back there Soap- booze... anything?" You ask as your vision turns slightly blurry, your head swimming side to side as the car turns from the ever-growing pressure in your thigh.

"Negative. Can't find anything back here- Simon, you have a torch up there in the glovebox?" Johnny calls out before swearing once more as a piece of gear slams on to his hand. Shaking out the pain a flashlight hits him square in the head- "thanks-mate, much appreciated."

"No problem," Simon replies calmly before testing the radio once more, looking in the rear view mirror in pity as he witnesses your pain without being able to do anything about it.

Kyle fishes the bullet out of your thigh, dropping it into a clear plastic bag before temporarily dressing your wound as you whisper out your thanks, your voice gone horse as the need for sleep overtakes your body.

"Hey, hey, hey. Gotta stay awake for now. Your wound will soon become infected if I can't dress it properly. We haven't got enough supplies in here-" Kyle starts to say before Price cuts him off- taking another sharp turn as you make your way out of the city.

"Anyone know of any places we can stand down for awhile, get their leg done-up?"

The car is met by silence as you groan out, closing your eyes harshly before cursing. Simon turns to look back at you- he knows what you are planning to say before he tilts his head to your opening eyes. Asking if this is really what you were going to do.

You only nod once before looking through the rear-view mirror at Price, "I know a place..."

"Tell me which turn to take next." And before you know it, the last of your secrets withheld from the group are about to fall like a house made of cards.

The sun had began to rise as Price pulls into the dirt driveway. A dull-yellow farmhouse sits atop a hill with a wrap-around porch to add to its charm. Gaz looks out the window and back at you, confused as to why you know of this place- seemingly off-the-grid. You only offer a small bittersweet smile in return before asking him to help you out of the car and to the front door.

Johnny stumbles out of the trunk as Simon pulls him aside, warning his best-mate to keep his outbursts and comments to a lesser state before walking up the front stairs. Soap looks around with squinted eyes, the garden is well-kept as is the exterrior of the home. The lawn freshly mowed as a swing drifts lightly in the wind from under an oak tree just down the hill. A few sets of bikes sit by the garage- painted a farmhouse red as he hears you fumble through your keys kept within your tactical vest.

Swearing out, Simon shoves him once in warning before the door is opneing and the boys soon follow you inside. Dusting off their boots while staring into the space in awe.

"This is not the usual safehouse- what is this place?" Gaz asks you while stepping into the living room and picking up a picture frame from a side-table. He looks at the image intently before turning it to the Captain who clutches the frame in his hands, a softness coating his eyes as he stares at your back.

You are unknowing of their stares as you walk into the kitchen. The sink is flowing as dishes are being stacked on the countertop. A radio plays a distant tune from the sunroom as you wrap your arms around your partner who looks up quickly. Viewing your reflection with theirs as they scream out in suprize. Dropping the plate while drying off their hands- they give you a large hug and kiss on the cheek, you feel as their hands shake against your form.

Price, Johnny, and Kyle all race over to the commotion as Simon leans against the archway to the living-room, his eyes crinkled as he hears feet stirring from up the stairs.

Wrapping your arm around your partners waist, they lean their head on your shoulder before narrowing their eyes playfully at all the new bodies in the home, "And who might these people be, luv?"

"Hmmm, just a couple of strangers from work" you say in a teasing tone before kissing their forehead and casting a smile at Johnny who stands with his mouth-agape.

Price steps forward, your wedding-day picture found back on the table as he extends his hand towards your partner- giving it a light shake while introducing himself. His brain still firing on how you managed to hide this all from him for years. His eyes shift over to your own, his head with a slight tilt as you mouth, not now at the sounds of little feet running down the stairs- calling out your name.

"Mom/dad! you're back-you're back!" they call out, clashing into your legs as you wince out slightly- your wound still open as your partners eyes fall to it in shock before removing the children from you.

Kissing the tops of their heads and giving their hair a slight ruffle. You look over at Simon who stands with his arms crossed by the stairs- someone is a bit disappointed. "I think you forgot to hug Uncle Simon back as well," you tease out as the children jump up and down before tackling the man to the ground.

Shaking your head at the scene as your partner laughs beside you, Kyles cough breaks your focus as he points to your leg, "ah-yes, sweetheart? do you know where the medical kit is?"

"by the sink dear... I will... leave you both to that one," they say with a slight wince escaping their mouth at their ends yet their eyes hold determination- you will be getting an earful of it tonight in bed.

Giving them a wide smile, you crack Gaz one on the back before hobbling over to the kitchen sink once more.

As you exit the room, Kyle following in tow. John speaks to your partner, "Had I have known- I would have never came here. I apologize for barging in on your family."

Your partner looks as the men, throwing a waving hand in their face, "My love did their best to keep this place off the files and databases- that could only last for so long- I suppose. Laswell did her fair-share to help us as well- she knows of our situation all too well..." they trail off- staring at Johnny's freshly inked tattoo with a smile.

"You know- I was very confused when they wanted to get new ink done. Good to see the reason why now- I was always happy to know they had more partners out there. Thank you for making sure they come home to me every time... I-I would never know what to do without them- the kids would say the same."

"It's an honour truly, ma'am/sir, serving by your partners side. Seeing what you both have made here... it only pushes me to work harder in order to obtain the same," Johnny says, a blush coating his cheeks as he feels Simon staring him down from building legos with the kids on the rug. The masked-man gives Soap a nod in gratitude before introducing the kids as your partner moves to clean the upstairs guest rooms.

John exits the house, seemingly overwhelmed by the images and nature of the estate. Looking at the various rolling hills, the flowers drifting in the morning breeze as birds sing in the air. He closes his eyes, standing on the porch- letting off a sigh.

"Everything al'right, John?" Gaz says from the doorway, drying off his hands with a hand-made hand towel. The Captain closes his eyes before turning around to answer, "I think that an old man like me is discovering everything that this job hasn't allowed me to do."

"Cap-" Gaz begins to reply, his eyes falling in worry as he walks over to Price.

"No, no. Its what must be done so others can have lives like this," Price says while shaking his heads and looking off to the side. You yell lunchtime from the kitchen as every flocks to the sunroom overlooking the farm-grounds.

╰┈➤ A/N: hope you enjoyed this!

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twilight-orchid · 4 months

Text

Shower Suprise

Jason Todd x gn pregnant reader

Notes: So, I’m currently fighting a war against baby fever and baby daddy jason makes me feral so I decided to write a self indulgent fic. I’m working on a couple sequel fics so let me know if you enjoyed this and I’ll post the others too. I’m not a great writer and have never written for Jason before, so sorry if it’s shit lmaooo

Part 2

Word count: 1730

Contains cursing, unplanned pregnancy, mention of abortion, talk of adoption

Jason had gotten home a little after 4 am. He’d been patrolling the cold, rainy streets since 11 and Gotham had finally grown quiet. His body ached something awful from the numerous fights he’d gotten into that night, and exhaustion had crept into his bones making him feel like he could fall asleep standing up.

He climbed into the window of the dark apartment silently to avoid waking his lover and got out of his gear in the living room. The sound of clanking metal and ripping zippers tended to get noisy. Once in his briefs alone he slipped into your bedroom, pausing for a moment to watch the rise and fall of your chest with a smile on his face. You slept soundly, your hair a nest around your face and your soft snores like a comforting lullaby to Jason.

He reluctantly made his way to your shared bathroom. He’d love nothing more than to just go to bed, but you didn’t like it when he got into the clean sheets with Gotham’s grime on him. And, to be fair, he was pretty gross some nights. He showered quickly, enjoying the steaming water on his sore muscles, then hastily moved to brush his teeth. However, something odd caught his eye as he spat.

There were balls of what looked like clean tissue wadded up atop the trash, which was strange as he’d just changed it before he left. You didn’t have a cold or anything that would constitute using that much. He furrowed his brow, a weird feeling washing over him. Something white and shiny just barely peeked out from underneath, and he moved the tissue aside to reveal not 1 but 4 pregnancy tests. His heart froze, time seeming to stop around him. Dread built in his gut as he grabbed the sticks, and terror settled in as he picked up one positive after another. Holy shit, y/n was pregnant. He’d gotten you pregnant. Fuck.

Something pleasant stirred in his gut but he squashed it down. His child would be in danger every day having him as their father. If anyone found out about his baby, child of the Red Hood and grandchild of the Batman, they’d instantly have a target on their head. Aside from that, he’d be a terrible father. He was gruff without meaning to, he had a short fuse, and he certainly didn’t have any good role models. All he could think about were the ways he could accidentally fuck them up. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you until you were in the bathroom with him.

He was no longer tired, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he dropped to the floor. Fuck fuck fuck. He couldn’t be a father, he’s Red Hood. He had huge time constraints, anger issues, and most importantly, a lot of blood on his hands. How could those hands, forever stained red, hold something like an innocent newborn in his grasp? A baby, with chunky cheeks and thighs, perhaps with his hair and your eyes.

“Jay?” You asked tentatively. He realized he was hyperventilating. He tried to respond, but he found all he could do is stare at your middle. Your eyes slipped to the floor, taking in the discovered pregnancy tests as he watched your face turn. This is clearly not the reveal you were hoping for. You crouched to his level.

“Jay, can you breathe with me?” He was still lost in his thoughts, buried in his anxiety. But he looked up and met your gaze, your features worried. For him. He closed his eyes and nodded with a shuddering breath.

“Alright babe, in through the nose…. Out through the mouth.” He followed along with you, his hand reaching out. You grabbed it firmly with both of yours without hesitation, running your thumbs along his skin. He usually didn’t like to be touched when he was having episodes, but something about your warmth grounded him. He steadily felt his heart begin to slow down.

You let go with one hand to tenderly cup his cheek, smiling sheepishly at him.

“You’re pregnant.” He said simply. You bit your lip and looked away, but nodded.

“I made an appointment in the morning to get an ultrasound and make sure, but well, 4 positives. Plus, you know how sick and nauseous I’ve been. Emotional, tired, hungry for weird shit…” He cursed under his breath and noted how your shoulders sank. Your hand just barely moved to your belly before you caught yourself, returning it to your side.

“You want the baby.” He stated, though it was more of a question. You sighed in frustration and ran your hand through your hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t feel ready, but I can’t stop picturing a little baby that looks like me and you and I just… I can’t-“ Your resolve crumbled as tears began rolling down your cheeks. He took you into his arms instantly, pulling you onto his lap and letting you bury your head into his neck as you sobbed. He drew circles into your back and whispered reassurances, but his head was spinning.

“I don't know what to do Jay!” You whimpered. He didn’t know either, but he needed to come up with a solution. For you.

A baby. A fucking baby. Bruce would absolutely lose it.

“Well,” he started, his voice calm. He was freaking out, but you didn’t need him a nervous wreck. You needed him strong and steadfast. He took a deep breath.

“There’s allot going on in our heads right now, why don't we break down our options, yeah?” You nodded, still sniffling and sat in his lap to meet his eyes.

“No matter what, I'm not putting a baby in the Gotham foster system. No way.” He started. Gotham had a lot of kids entering its foster system and almost no kids being adopted. Bruce had been trying to help solve the issue for years, but Jason knew if they gave the baby up for adoption, they’d likely have a hard time finding a home. Not to mention the issue still stood that they’d be in danger if their parentage was discovered, except in that scenario Jason wouldn’t even know where they are to help them. You nodded in agreement.

“So that leaves…” you began softly.

“Keeping it or getting rid of it.” He finished. Your lip twisted and fresh tears fell, but you wiped them away.

“I don’t… what do you want to do Jay?”

“It’s your body.”

“And it's your baby.” You responded. That was fair, and he thought about it. There’s no denying it could be dangerous, but there was also no denying that his kid would have the planets greatest protectors on its side. His family would call to arms for his baby in an instant, as would the friends Jason had made through his life. Hell, even the Justice League would defend Bruce’s grand baby. And he wouldn’t repeat his mentor’s mistakes and drag his kid on the rooftops with him. They belonged at home; safe, cared for, and loved. A feeling he reveled in when he was with you. He thought about you holding a toddler in your arms and playing with them, the sound of his child’s laughter echoing through the house. He just knew you would make an amazing parent. Feelings once again rose in his chest, but he didn’t push them down. He let them sit and, once he really thought about it, he kinda wanted to see the little guy live and grow. But ultimately it wasn’t his decision.

“I want what you want.” He finally responded. You groaned in frustration.

“I don’t want you to want what I want Jay. If I say I want it, I don’t want you to agree to make me happy and then feel trapped and then…” you trailed off, looking away from him. He furrowed his brow.

“And then what, leave you? Abandon you to raise my kid on your own? Do you really think I’d do that to you?” His tone sounded almost angry, but he didn’t mean for it to be. He wasn’t mad, he was hurt.

“No, Jay I-“ you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“I just don’t want to make you do something huge like this if it's not what you want. And I don’t want to force you to commit to me like that.” He scoffed at you.

“I think we’re well past worrying about me wanting to commit to you, doll.” You stared at him seemingly unconvinced, your fears and uncertainties visibly rattling around your skull.

He sighed. This wasn’t the circumstance he was hoping for, but his gut said it was time.

“You want to see how fucking serious I am about committing to you? Where the fuck are my jeans?” He gently pushed you off of him and told you to stay. He nearly chuckled at the cute, confused look on your face. He grabbed the pants he'd been wearing before patrol and fished his wallet out of his pocket.

“Look at this shit, I’ve been carrying this around with me for months.” You stared at him with a raised brow, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Out of the cash flap he pulled a small pouch of bubble wrap which produced a beautiful engagement ring. It was your picture-perfect ring; you couldn’t have picked a better one yourself. You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“Jason-“

“No, shut up and listen to me. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone on this god forsaken planet. You are beautiful, and kind, and funny, and so fucking smart. You’ve been there for me at my worst and my best without judgement. You’re one person that I know I can rely on, and I am so proud that you rely on me. I am a lucky fucking man to have you in my life, and if you want this baby I’m with you. And I’ll be the happiest man alive. But if you don’t want it, you don’t. And I’ll be happy with that too. But either way, I love you and I want you to be my one and only for as long as you’ll have me. So, what do you wanna do babe?”

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd x pregnant reader #jason todd x pregnant!reader #red hood x pregnant reader #batfam #batman #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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purplekissinger · 4 months

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I am the pretty thing that lives in the castle

And I pray one prayer - I repeat it till my tongue stiffens - Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you - haunt me, then! Emily Bronte, ‘Wuthering Heights’.

Y/N became a ghost instead of Myrtle. She couldn't care less about Tom. He wishes he could say the same. Wordcount: 3k.

At their first meeting, Tom even shrieked a little (as he later justified, solely because Y/N took him by surprise). He crept towards the sinks that bathed in the bluish light of the moon, and did not at all expect that someone would jump at him from the ceiling with a “Boo!”

“Boo,” Y/N said reluctantly and passed through him like a light bluish cloud. Tom closed his eyes, but didn’t feel anything.

“Good evening to you too,” he said, looking at her cautiously. Y/N floated up to the ceiling and was now studying the stucco, running her ghostly finger absentmindedly over the frozen gargoyle masks. “What's new?”

“As you may guess, absolutely nothing,” Y/N responded, “but I like that you’re trying to be polite. It's nice.”

“Do you feel ‘nice’?”

“Not really. I'm using words that I learned in life, but they don't quite describe my experience because I've never experienced anything like this before. I'd rather you be polite than rude, and that's my new “nice.”

Tom looked at her, a luminous spot against the black wall, which trembled slightly, like the wings of a strange butterfly. Y/N died wearing a thin shirt, but there was no longer any way she could be cold or get sick.

“If I didn’t know you were a Ravenclaw, I would have guessed by now,” he said.

“I was different when I was alive,” Y/N said judiciously. “More lively”

“You sure were”.

“No, I mean it. I can't explain it enough for you to understand, but this experience is...changing. Everything becomes so transparent, unreal. If I were the same, I would have already cried barrels of tears and flooded the toilet”.

“There is someone who is eager to do that for you,” Tom said gloomily. “Myrtle has been whining all day long, telling everyone what a wonderful friend you were.”

“Me?” Y/N sounded surprised. “I can’t remember that we were friends. However, I did stand up for her a couple of times…”

Tom kept silent a little longer, angrily tapping his fingers on the broken edge of the sink. When falling, already dead, Y/N hit her head here. They didn't fix the sink, instead, they put a lock on the toilet door, but Tom sneaked in almost every evening.

“Is that why you’re not angry at me for killing you?” he finally asked.

“Well, technically you didn’t kill me. You just released a basilisk, which also didn't do anything against its nature, so it's kind of like an accident. Although I can understand why you didn’t tell anyone about it all,” Y/N said. “No, that’s not the reason why”.

“You are very understanding,” said Tom. “Is it okay if I stay here a little longer? I need to prepare an essay on the history of magic, and tomorrow is the final match between the badgers and Slytherin. All of Hogwarts is shaking”.

“Make yourself at home,” Y/N said indifferently.

She went down to the Chamber of Secrets with him when the time came to seal it. Hovering silently two steps behind him, she looked at the tunnels and rusty gratings that were many, many centuries old, and for the first time something like curiosity was reflected on her transparent face. For some reason this made Tom feel almost happy. Y/N’s curiosity became almost human when, rustling its scales, a huge snake slowly crawled out of the black hole in the wall and surrounded them with a ring, and put its terrible head so as to get a better look at the guests, and hissed in greeting.

“I've read that those who speak Parseltongue can look a basilisk in the eyes and survive,” said Tom, looking down, “but I don’t want to test that.”

Y/N looked fearlessly with her dead eyes straight into the face of the creature.

“Yes, the cost of a mistake would be very high,” she said. “What is your pet's name?”

“Susie,” Tom said quietly. “It's a girl”.

Y/N smiled weakly.

“Hello, Susie,” she said. Susie let out a squeal that sounded more like a laugh. “Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, this is not for long, because we have come to seal the Chamber of Secrets forever.”

“For a while,” Tom corrected her. “Susie, I'll be back, I promise. I don't know when, but I'll be back”.

He closed his eyes and stretched his hands forward. The basilisk poked its terrible mouth into his chest, and Tom hugged her.

***

When Tom returned to school the next year, no one noticed anything, and he even began to think that the ritual did not work, but as soon as he crossed the threshold of the toilet on the third floor, a quiet exclamation was heard from under the ceiling:

“Oh! Tom, what happened to you?”

Like a feather or a petal, Y/N slowly descended towards him. Tom looked at her and thought that flying suited her well.

“Is it that noticeable?” he asked suspiciously.

“You have become very small,” Y/N said, flying around him. “Like this,” and made a small circle with her hands. “Where did half of you go?”.

This is how he learned that ghosts see the effects of Horcruxes.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “Who was it?”

And Tom told her. About everything, about how he found out who the Gaunts were, about how he found his uncle, about the Riddles, about how scary it was to look at his father’s corpse, because he was so very alike him, about how he made a Horcrux right there while the bodies were still warm. It was easy for him, he wanted to talk, to free himself from every detail, take it out of his head, let Y/N look, discuss, judge.

She was in no hurry to judge. She just said:

“This could backfire on you.”

“How?” Tom suddenly felt offended. He just now realized that he would like her to admire what a cool magician he is, and maybe even clap her hands.

“I know more than you,” she said vaguely. “Not everything, perhaps, but more. Yes, I’m still on the threshold, but from where I’m standing, it’s clear that you acted very rashly.”

“What do you mean by ‘still’?"

She didn't answer.

All autumn, winter and summer he went to visit Y/N, even leaving textbooks in a niche by the window. It was quiet and somehow very cozy there, the light from the window was so gentle, and on sunny days the stained glass windows seemed to light up with colored lights. Y/N was silent for the most part, but seeing her figure out of the corner of his eye and hearing her thoughtful humming under her breath was... nice. This was his new “nice”, because something inside of him began to change inexplicably, irreversibly and horribly.

In winter, he asked her to come to the Yule Ball, and she agreed, and she blew out all the candles and ruined the chandelier. Oh, the chaos!.. And in the spring they celebrated Y/N’s first Deathday Party. For this occasion Tom stole a lemon pie from the kitchen, but Y/N politely thanked him and said that she couldn’t eat that. She fluttered back and forth, he chewed on the pie, they argued about the technique of using Fiendfyre, and it was a nice evening.

“I won’t come back here in the fall,” Tom said suddenly, because in fact that’s all he’s been thinking about for the last few days.

“I know,” Y/N said. “You are in seventh year. I can count to seven”.

“But I’ll come back someday,” he said stubbornly. “I just don’t know when”.

“I think I’ve already heard this once”.

“I’ll come back for Susie too, don’t you worry.”

“And what will we do then, riddle me this?”

“Seize the Ministry of Magic,” he blurted out. “Y/N, I'll miss you. Will you miss me?”

“I would like to tell you something nice in response, but I’ll tell the truth. Maybe I won't be here soon.”

He suddenly felt very hot. Then terribly cold.

“What do you mean you won’t be here? Where are you going to go?” Tom asked in an unnaturally high voice. “Aren’t you here forever?”

“Not really,” Y/N answered evasively. “You see, when I died, I was not at all ready for this”.

“Can anyone possibly be ready for this?”

“You must be ready, Tom. Now I know that. I was confused and made... the wrong choice. Stuck on the threshold. Didn't go any further. But I can step forward at any moment, I just need to think it over carefully and make a decision”.

“Can’t you step back?” Tom asked. He did not put hope into these words, but it sounded nevertheless.

“No,” Y/N answered simply. “I died, Tom”.

He rested his hand on his cheek and watched her spin, arms outstretched, right up to the ceiling, the invisible wind blowing her hair. He said:

“I regret that I didn’t know you when you were alive. I think we could become friends.”

“We could,” Y/N agreed. “But for this to happen you shouldn’t have killed me”.

Tom jumped up sharply and, his burning face hid in his hands, quickly walked out of the room. The door slammed so loudly that the noise echoed throughout the entire corridor.

***

Tom did not soon cross this threshold again.

He walked from Dumbledore's office after the first unsuccessful job interview in his life, he wanted to get out of the castle as quickly as possible so as not to endure this humiliation anymore, but his feet themselves led him to the third floor.

“You have become even smaller,” said a familiar voice, which he had only dreamed about in the morning. Loud, distant, but somehow comforting. “You're barely visible”.

Tom was silent. He looked and still did not believe that he was seeing her again. Finally he grinned and stepped forward.

“But you’re still the same,” he said.

“The same, but not quite,” Y/N objected, going down to meet him. “I thought a lot and almost decided to take a step further”.

“But not yet?”

“Not yet. This is a complex process, and it doesn't get any easier now that I have all the time in the world”.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tom asked, leaning against the wall. A forgotten feeling of comfort covered him in a cool wave. He felt like he wanted to stay.

“I’m thinking,” Y/N said. “A lot”.

“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, take revenge on your murderer?” he asked and realized that it sounded like a request. Lord Voldemort had a lot of requests that day.

“No, thanks,” said Y/N. She looked him up and down with a curious look and added: “It seems to me that there’s not much left of him anyway.”

Tom tiredly sank to the floor and tucked his legs under him. He wanted to talk to her again and again, so that she would answer sharply, but always to the point. He wanted her to scream at him, to rush to claw his eyes out, he wanted her to thirst for revenge.

“I sometimes saw you in my dreams,” he said. “Like we’re friends or something.”

“I have nothing to do with this,” Y/N said. “Have you made any living friends over the years?”

“Wait for me,” Lord Voldemort said without listening to her. He wanted it to sound like an order, but it turned out to be the third request. “Y/N, I figured out how to defeat death.”

“Sure you did”.

“I am not lying. I really fought it all this time and almost won”.

“I wish you would know how stupid you look now.”

“Are you going to listen or not?! I tell you, wait, I will bring you back, I will fix everything, you will be alive again, I will get you out…”

“Promise?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Lord Voldemort's promise?”

She smiled. Unable to look at her, Tom stormed out.

***

The third time he returned to the castle was on May 2, 1998. He walked along the empty corridors of the third floor, and his steps echoed loudly. He was going to congratulate Y/N on her yet another Deathday. In his hands was not a lemon pie, but an Elder Wand.

The door to the girls' toilet was blown off its hinges by the explosion. He crossed the threshold and saw that the stained glass windows were broken, and golden dawn rays were pouring into the room. For a second it seemed to him that the place was empty, that he was late.

“Oh, Merlin!” a familiar laugh rang out. “What's happened to you, Tom? You have become so very small, smaller than a mouse!”

She came down from the ceiling as before, but for the first time he saw her in the pink rays of the sun, and she seemed almost alive. For the first time he saw her almost alive.

“Come with me, Y/N”, he said softly. His hand trembled a little, grasping his wand. “I will bring you back to life. I will give you back everything and even more. Soon I will have the Resurrection Stone, and you will live again”.

She laughed even louder, twirled as if in a dance, and he felt uneasy.

“Stupid, stupid Tom,” Y/N said. “Still don’t get this, do you? Everyone gets smarter over the years, but you seem to only get dumber”.

And no Avada Kedavra could shut her up.

“But I'm glad you came. Really, I am. I wanted to say goodbye to you, Tom. I'm finally making that step”.

“No,” Lord Voldemort said in a changed voice. “Don’t. Don’t you dare”.

“Or else what?”

“Don't do this”, when was the last time he begged for something, pleaded? Was it with her?! “Stay. Stay, Y/N. I told you, I'll bring you back!”

“You forgot the magic word”. Y/N giggled. She sank to the floor and looked at him cheerfully and seriously at the same time. “I feel sorry for you, Tom”.

He had heard it once before, but coming from her it sounded and felt like “Crucio.”

“I have to go, really. There's no time to chat. I’ll tell you one more thing. Soon you will be offered a choice one last time, so please, please, don’t be stubborn. Can you do this for me?”

Tom looked at her desperately, afraid to blink, and still missed the moment when Y/N melted into the air.

***

The empty platform shines white, as if it were covered with snow. There are no trains here. No people, too. The bench blackens on the platform like a wound. A faint whimper came from under the bench.

A girl is walking along the platform.

She is wearing a thin shirt, but there is no way that she could be cold. The blue tie is fluttering in the invisible wind. She hurries to the bench, bends down, carefully takes out the bundle of robes from there, and opens it, and smiles a little and carefully presses it to her chest.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #voldemort x y/n #voldemort x reader

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lazilybeinglassie · 4 days

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I wanna talk about the beasts for a sec. Cause the new update has me thinking and I love the direction they are going for this.

But I more specifically wanna talk about the corrupted ideals of Mystic Flour and how she justifies her actions. It's pretty interesting how she speaks about her story as though it is meant to evoke something in you. Asking you to understand her perspective once she talks about it.

For a creature of Apathy, it seems to be odd that she wants these beings to understand her pain. Or even more so, sympathize her. I could be looking a little too deep in this, but she does seem to paint herself to be a victim much like how Shadow Milk does when he talks about the past.

It's another one of those villains who started good but was shattered because of how the world treated them kind of stories, which isn't bad. But it does become messy when it comes to fan reactions as the line divides between defenders and executioners.

Also, from her bio-

She was definitely not the first to be corrupted. Someone else was rallying the troops and she volunteered. Which in a sense is sad.

There is also the discussion of how Dark Cacao will combat this villain. Which I am very excited to see unfold. For this is possibly the King's biggest threat he had ever faced. The only person in years to make him doubt. To fall victim to his own fears.

I honestly believe he is gonna be in terrible shape when he wakes up. And even more so, the question becomes, what is his best defense against someone who has given up on her own ambitions and volition?

I'm so glad that they are taking the symbolic route of the battles. Making the war between their other halves fight emotionally to survive. All of their beliefs and philosophies and world views are put it the test and will come out refined and purified.

Anywho, I liked this update, I'm willing to talk more about it later.

#cookie run kingdom #crk #mystic flour cookie #shadow milk cookie #cr kingdom #beast yeast

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ereardon · 1 month

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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Nine

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky and Bob have a heart-to-heart after his accident

WC: 1.7K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You were officially in your second trimester. Twelve weeks.

You stood in the mirror, holding your hands against your lower stomach. There was a definitive bulge. More than gas or constipation or a food baby.

A real baby.

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice floated through the apartment. “I’m home.”

“One sec,” you called out, pulling your loose shirt back down. You didn’t want him to see it. Even though the secret was out, you still felt like it was just for you to know it was there. In the kitchen, Jake set down a pizza and a bag of groceries.

“I got dinner.”

“I’m starving,” you replied, sitting down on a chair at the table and flinging the box open. “Hell yes.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the cabinets, green eyes watching you greedily as you pulled a cheesy slice out, savoring it on your tongue. “That baby is going to be thirty pounds and twenty of it is going to be cheese.”

“Shut up,” you replied between mouthfuls. “It’s your fault if they’re enormous. Isn’t that the man’s genes or something?”

“I see you’re reading the pregnancy books.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like you are.”

“Actually, I am.” You looked up, squinting. Jake shrugged. “What? Not much to do during training when we’re waiting for a group to do their test flight.”

“So you’re telling me Mr. Pilot sits around and reads What To Expect When You’re Expecting between top secret dangerous missions?”

Jake took a seat across the table and yanked on a slice of pizza. “Pretty much.”

“You’re not what I expected,” you replied sincerely.

His eyes landed on yours. “You’re better than I expected.”

A silence enveloped the room. “Jake—”

Your cell phone buzzed on the table.

“Hello?” You listened intently for a moment, eyes widening. Jake’s gaze never left yours. “Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the phone away.

“What is it?” he asked. “Y/N? Is everything OK?”

“It’s Bob,” you murmured. “He’s awake.”

***

Anxiety — heavy and damp — sat in your chest, curled around your stomach, clenching your insides. You took a deep, quivering breath, and pushed the door open.

Bobby looked up, squinting from behind his large frames. He looked thinner, the effects of being in a coma for almost five days.

Quietly, you stepped closer. “Hi.”

“Hi Ducky.”

You choked back a sob. “How are you?”

“Terrible,” he replied and you frowned, looking over at the monitors. But nothing was beeping or going insane. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. Bob shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. I just messed up.”

“Phoenix said there was nothing that could have been done differently. That there wasn’t even time to think.”

He shook his head and grimaced. “Not about that. I don’t care about that. I messed up with you. With us.”

“Oh.” Your voice trembled. “Bobby, I—”

“I love you, Ducky,” he said and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. “And I fucked it all up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s OK.”

“It’s not,” Bob said. There was an exhaustion in his voice. “You needed me. And I did the opposite of what I should have. I spent my whole life trying to be a good brother. And the second you really, truly needed me, I pushed you away.”

“You were mad at me,” you whispered. “I messed up everything you did to get me where I was supposed to go. I get it.”

Bob shook his head. “It’s not my job to tell you what to do with your life, Y/N.”

“You’re just realizing that?”

He smiled softly. “I’m a little behind.” Bob paused. “Will you forgive me?”

“Always.”

Bob reached out a hand and you took it. How many times had you held Bob’s hand in yours? You could count very few times when you were the one taking care of him. You reached down and pulled the hem of your shirt up, exposing your bare stomach. Bob’s eyes went wide as you pressed his flat palm against your warm skin. He could feel the raised curve of your expanding belly.

“Promise me something, Bobby,” you whispered. He nodded. “You don’t leave us again.”

Tears flooded his eyes and you pressed down against his hand, the two of you covering the bump with your intertwined fingertips as he sobbed. After a moment, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. Bob’s fingers gripped you, hard, holding you so tight you thought he might never let you go. “I promise, Ducky,” he whispered into your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Bobby.”

***

You had an armful of books, leaning against the front door trying to undo the lock when it swung open unexpectedly and you tumbled inside. A pair of warm arms caught you midair. “Woah!”

Jake pushed you to an upright position, one of his hands resting on your low back, the other pressed against your arm. “What are you doing carrying all of those?” he demanded, taking the books out of your hands and putting them down on the table.

You rolled your eyes. “I work at a library, Jake. Don’t you think I carry around books all day?”

“Guess I never thought about it,” he said. “But I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be worried about me,” you huffed.

“Who said I’m pretending?”

The air in the room froze. You looked up at Jake. He had obviously gotten home only minutes before you because he was still wearing his flight suit, hair tousled and sweaty, some pieces matted to his forehead. It was unfair how good he looked when you were wearing practically a potato sack, the only thing that didn’t tug against your expanding stomach. You shook your head and put your tote bag down on the ground, whirling around to face him. “I think there’s some stuff we didn’t talk about when we moved in because of everything that was going on. So maybe we need to have that conversation.”

Jake nodded and you two took a seat on the couch. God, the cushions felt good against your screaming back. How the hell you were going to do six more months of this you weren’t sure. “Alright, darlin’, I’m listening.”

“That,” you said, raising a finger and he frowned. “Cute pet names.”

“I can’t call you pet names?”

“We’re roommates, Jake. Nothing more.”

“You’re carrying my child.” His voice tipped as he said that last word. “You’re more than a roommate and we both know it.”

“I’m just a girl who lives in the guest room,” you whispered.

“Is that what you want?”

You nodded. “I want you to live your life like you would normally. Date, even.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to date?”

“Sure.”

Jake squinted. “Are you going to date?”

“Nobody wants me,” you replied and his face fell. “A pregnant twenty-three-year-old? Yeah, no, not the hottest commodity on the market.”

“But if someone asked you?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Jake’s green eyes, normally so luminous, darkened. He nodded tightly. “Got it.”

“You should feel free to date whoever you want,” you replied. “Phoenix, maybe.”

“Nat? Seriously?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been there done that.”

His eyebrows shot up. “She told you?”

“Yup. Really get around, don’t you?”

“Could say the same about you.” He looked up as the realization of what he had said crossed his mind. For a moment, the room was silent. Then you laughed, and so did Jake.

“Fuck you,” you said, chuckling. “You’re a dick.”

“It’s my unique draw.”

“Well your pregnant roommate isn’t going to be much of a chick magnet,” you replied, standing up. “So I would go to the girl’s house, if given the option. I’ll do the same.”

“Are you really going to fuck random guys?” Jake asked as you made your way toward the hallway and bedroom.

You turned. “I fucked you, didn’t I?”

***

“Be careful you idiot!”

Bob shot you a dirty look. “Aren’t moms supposed to be nice?”

“Not a mom yet,” you replied, hands resting on your stomach for a moment before you slapped a hot cheeto out of his hand. “Doctor said whole foods.”

He groaned. “Can I have Hangman stay with me instead? He might actually be a better alternative.”

“You’re stuck with me for another day,” you said, leaning back onto the couch. Bob sat in a reclining chair across from you.

“Ducky?”

“Yeah?”

“You scared?”

“Terrified.”

“I don’t know what’s crazier. That my little sister is going to be someone’s mom. Or that I’m going to be Uncle Bobby.”

“Uncle Bobby,” you repeated. It sounded strangely familiar on your tongue. “It fits though.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” he asked.

You frowned. “Think this was the longest I’ve ever stayed mad at you in my life. Except maybe the time you donated my pony collection.”

“I couldn’t have a horse girl for a sister,” he replied. “Besides, you were fifteen.”

“Was not!”

“Yes you were, because it was the same year I punched Mike Turner for kissing you on the front porch.”

“God, that feels like ages ago.”

“You were just a kid,” Bob replied softly. “You’re still a kid to me.”

“I’m an adult, Bobby,” you whispered. “More adult than you.”

“Hey!”

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Bob blushed. “No time, Ducky.”

“I’ve heard stories from the team.” You raised your eyebrow. “Apparently you’re a hot commodity at the bar.”

“Don’t listen to anything Bradshaw says.”

“Jake said it, too.”

“Really don’t listen to anything Hangman says.”

“Are you happy, Bobby?”

He frowned. “Does being in a relationship automatically make you happy?”

“No,” you sighed. “But it’s better than being alone.”

“You’re not alone, Ducky,” Bob said quietly. “You have me. And Jake, unfortunately.”

You leaned back against the couch. “Yeah. I have you. And Jake.”

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @withahappyrefrain @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @gigisimsonmars @xomrsalliej4787xo @myfaveficrecs @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @je-suis-prest-rachel @shanimallina87

@rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @boiolay @sometimesanalice @na-ta-sh-aa @bobfloydsbabe @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @palepeanutponyshoe @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @mel119g @daggerspare-standingby @grxcisxhy-wp @mrsjobarnes @csmt-m @rockbottompunk-blog @joaquinwhorres @xoxabs88xox @spinning-away

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 5 months

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hi it's the good omens mascot here's some shit about me that might be relevant

I appear to have accidentally caused chaos so I figured you might as well know about me since I'm responsible for it. And also so that you know who you broke, thanks ineffable fandom.

I have been called the prophet by some of you all. This is not entirely untrue, but I would like to add as I did in one post, that Apollo also gave me the curses of art, (very emotional) music, (sometimes good mostly dreadful) poetry, (same parentheses apply, except that the dreadful is on purpose) writing and (used to be good now dreadful) medical knowledge, and so yes, you did accidently adopt a messenger of an ancient Greek god.

Yes, this entire entry into your cult happened from start to now happened in 48 hours.

This will seem less bizarre when I give you context about me and fandoms. I changed career paths (after three years of intense study that cost me my sanity) from science to the arts because I was inspired by drarry fanfiction of them leaving their ministry jobs and following their dreams. Yes I tossed three years and my loss of sanity away in one week of decisions. I'm now a designer. Thanks Draco.

I read so much drarry fanfiction that my mum had to take me to the hospital for injured wrists. I wore wrist and elbow supports and was in constant pain for a few months. I was only later introduced to autoscroll. Yes, I am a fool. Yes, I am unaware of how to human.

I'm broke and cheap enough that I feel guilty buying bottled water, but for Christmas I spent the equivalent of around 150 bottles of water getting a Bakewell tart custom made (they don't sell them where I live). Why? Because in one single fanfiction, it is Draco's favourite food. I would never spend that kind of money on a dessert for any real human being.

That is to say, you all are not ready for when I REALLY fall for Crowley. I don't saunter vaguely downwards for people. I bypass earth and crash into hell, leaving a smoking pit in its infernal ground.

I swear I'm not as dumb as I seem, I just have ZERO general knowledge, and am terrible with faces. I can tell you what the graffiti on the walls of Pompeii from before 70 AD said but I don't know who my previous president was, and personally I think that's very classy of me.

Some of you seem concerned about my sleep schedule. Worry not, I sleep in four installments, night, morning nap, afternoon nap, evening nap. I sleep more than you all, that I can promise. I sleep more than my doggy sister.

About the streams and the timezones, I have no idea how to make it so people can watch, because I frequently mix up east and west and last morning I mixed up the Pacific and Atlantic ocean. I don't know at what point the Eastern hemisphere becomes the Western or how any of it works. I also thought Wakanda was a real place.

But hey fun fact, in 2020 diclofenac sales were dropping in Iceland. I know this because I wanted to make sure to use the correct painkiller in one sentence of a story I was writing. It was completely irrelevant. But hey any of you writers here probably feel my pain. I don't write fanfiction, but I am an author and I write original stories. And honestly what is more useful, Icelandic diclofenac sales from three years ago or timezones?

A career test once told me to be a standup comedian.

Yes that's me Asmi, just your regular dumbass lad who is slightly unhinged, serving himbo twink energy, hello hi nice to meet you all. PS: the poll results are out and Doctor Who won, so tremble, DW fandom.

#good omens fandom #good omens mascot #asmi #weirdly-specific-but-ok #this is me y'all #good omens brainrot #thanks for breaking me i figured you should know about me #crowley #just crowley i'm going to shatter soon #drarry #draco malfoy #fandom culture #fandom things #doctor who #dw fandom #more inaccurate summaries coming up #good omens #fanfiction #and how it ruined and saved me

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meowzfordayz · 9 months

Text

hashiras' first "I love you"

Author’s Note: a lil fluff for the sake of a lil fluff. 🤗 Kyojuro’s was inspired by @somelattes' should've known better... which you should totally read btw (read it and weep 😭💀).

hashiras’ first “I love you”

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~1,800

CW: none

~faqs~

“I love you,” Gyomei whispers, confident that you’re asleep, “I love you and your steady breaths, the sensation of your fingers tugging on my happi, how I know your mood by listening to your footsteps…”

You grunt, rolling over at his confession, taking the blankets with you. He smiles.

“I love you,” as he curves his warm body around yours, “Thank you,” as he presses a kiss to the back of your head, “Thank you so much.”

You’re asleep, truly, but that doesn’t stop the blossom of red in your dreams, heartbeat quickening to keep up with Gyomei’s own longing, words on the tip of your tongue — if only you slept talked.

“And when you wake,” he murmurs, “I’ll be happy to tell you again.”

“I love you,” Obanai sighs, cheeks red and sour as he glares at his feet, “Alright?”

“Alright,” you quip, mimicking his actions with quiet chuckle.

It takes him a long moment to notice your teasing, signature scowl wrinkling his face when he finally realizes you’re copying his embarrassed disposition.

“Well don’t mock me and my love for you!” he hisses, arms crossing tightly, taking a decisive step back from your amused expression, “I’m being vulnerable, damn it!”

“I know, I know,” your hands raise in apologetic defense, mouth still quirked with endearment, “You’re just so…”

“So what?” he huffs.

“So grumpy when you’re in love!” you laugh loudly now, tugging at his wrists, adoration swelling in your chest when he doesn’t flinch or pull away from you, “And in case it wasn’t obvious, I love you too.”

“I love you!” Mitsuri exclaims, sleepy ascent of the sun interrupted by her pink cheeks and wide stare, “That’s why I always ask if we can watch the sunrise together! Because I figured, some day, I would have the courage to tell you! I love you!”

You nod slowly, early morning drowsiness muddling your comprehension, a glowing smile gradually replacing the tiredness of your face as her feelings sink through your skin.

“You love me?” you repeat softly.

“Is that so difficult to believe?” her head tilts, concern filling her gaze, “Of course I love you!”

A quiet exhale of laughter slips from your mouth, arms gentle and tender as you reach for her warmth, a satisfied hum vibrating against her earlobe when she accepts your embrace.

“It’s difficult to believe,” you admit, still in shock, body doing its best to memorize the curve and weight of her scent melting into you, “But I’d be the world’s biggest idiot to turn from your love.”

“So you love me too?” she grins, the faintest trace of fear catching on the end of her question.

“I do. I love you, Kanroji Mitsuri, I love you too.”

“I love you,” Shinobu admits, reluctance in her fingers as they grasp your elbow, gently moving your limb, “It’s a terrible feeling, to love someone, but I do.”

“Well I feel loved,” you remark wryly, eyebrow raising at her airy tone, wincing as she tests your range of motion, “Are you sure you aren’t pranking me? Going to laugh at me in five seconds, give or take?”

Sighing quietly, she shakes her head once, “I deserve that,” humming with dissatisfaction.

“What exactly is the point in telling me you love me if it’s such a burden to you?” you ask pointedly, “And how am I doing?”

“You’re healing slowly,” Shinobu reports, frowning when your jaw clenches, “But still healing. You’ll be alright.”

“And you? Will you be alright?”

“If you’re asking whether I’ll survive being in love with you,” she chuckles lowly, “Then of course. I’ll survive.”

“But will you be alright?” you repeat.

She lets your arm fall, gaze steady as she watches your expression twinge, “Do you love me?”

“Is that even appropriate?” you snort, “I’m your patient.”

“Every slayer is my patient. Who else am I supposed to love?”

“I do love you,” you say softly, pretenses dissipating as fatigue snakes up your spine, body haunching, “I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” Kyojuro declares, watching loud tears drip down your cheeks, “How could I not return?”

“Well dying would certainly make returning difficult,” you sniffle, not quite processing his confession, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Ah, but I’ve been keeping this promise for ages!” he smiles wider, sadness softening the corners of his mouth, “I promise I love you.”

“Ages?” your eyes widen, “You-!”

“It’s hard to steal a moment for ourselves,” Kyojuro shrugs apologetically, “But I swear I wake up thinking about you.”

“And before you fall asleep?” you dare to ask, breath held in your shocked chest.

“I hear the color of your laughter,” he blushes, discomfort pricking at his fingertips, “How do you feel?”

“How do I feel?” you scoff now, amusement brightening your tone as you point a wry finger at his nose, “If you’ve loved me for ages, then I’ve loved you for forever!”

“I love you,” Sanemi murmurs, catching your wrist as you turn to leave, cutting through your wall of anger with such a simple, delicate movement — such a painful, quiet admission.

“What does that even mean?” you snap, shuddering as his confession digs into your shoulder blades, “You hate everything.”

“I don’t,” he frowns slightly, clinging onto your fingers as he clings onto the hope that Maybe, maybe they won’t shake me off.

“Prove it,” you goad darkly, skin burning from his touch, unwilling to detach yourself even as you scowl in disbelief, “What else do you love?”

“I love the sunrise,” he begins carefully, tone level and gentle, unbearingly tender, “I love getting to see you smile,” smirking to himself, “As well as beating you up,” fixing a warm, welcoming grin on your astonished, unblinking eyes, “I love hearing you judge me, challenge me, worm your way into me,” shrugging as he traces your knuckles with the roughness of his thumb, “I love the scent of ginger, and the crackle of autumn, the fullness of a rainstorm, and how entranced you look.”

His intention to tease you utterly fails as his voice softens to an unknowing simmer, the intimacy of his grasp suddenly registering as you yank your hand to your chest.

“You’re forgetting something,” you whisper, stuck in the sinking of his stare.

“Of course,” Sanemi laughs lightly, stepping in, listening to your breaths — listening to how you don’t step away, “I love you.”

“And if I can’t say it back?” you venture.

He snorts, flicking your forehead with an unceremonious thwack, “That’s fine. My love has no deadline, no time limit, no strings. It just is.”

“I love you.”

Your eyebrows furrow, lips parting as you stare dumbfounded at Muichiro.

“Did you hear me?” his head tilts, “I said, I love you.”

“I heard you!” you hurriedly assure him, your fingers locking then unlocking then locking together, “You caught me off guard, is all.”

He smiles at that, that same warm smile that only you’ve seen — that same warm smile you’ve taken for granted, as though you didn’t know yourself to be the reason behind his rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms.

“So, what do you think?”

He hopes you don’t notice how his left pinky trembles, how his toes keep curling and uncurling, how terribly flustered his face is.

“As in, how do I feel?” you squeak.

“No. I mean. Yes, but also, what do you think about me loving you?”

“I think it’s great!” you blurt, breaths shortening as you reach instinctively for his hand, “I just really wasn’t expecting it!”

He almost asks Are you sure? searing regret beginning to root him into the ground (to swallow him whole, actually), when you make contact, grip clammy yet decisive.

“I… wasn’t sure if you loved anyone like that,” you explain gently, thoughts finally gathered, “If I could hold your attention in such a way… but I’m happy to know that I can. That I do.”

“So my love is a good thing?” he murmurs shyly.

You nod, returning the warmth in his timid smile as you dart in to peck his cheek, “Absolutely.”

“I love you,” Giyuu says simply, wind billowing though the sleeves of his haori as he rests a light palm on your shoulder, “Please remember that.”

How could I forget? you try to whisper, response caught in your throat as you close the distance between his nervous pulse and your shocked heartbeat, finally accepting the coolness of his embrace.

“Promise me?” his voice roughens, chin digging into the back of your neck, “I can’t bear to lose you.”

I can’t bear to be lost by you.

“I promise,” you manage to rasp, muscles relaxing into the awkwardness of his touch, “And Giyuu?”

He freezes at the lilt in your tone, eyes squeezing shut, fear blossoming in his stomach, yet unable to release you.

“I have always loved you.”

“I love you!” Tengen grins, pride expanding his chest as lightness fills his head, “I love you dearly and devotedly.”

“You love everyone,” you laugh casually, waving off his confession with a bright smile, your hair glistening in the afternoon sunshine, “I love you too, Uzui-san.”

“No, no, no,” his grin falters, jaw twitching, arms crossing, “I love you.”

“Okaaay,” you raise a curious eyebrow, stepsiding an overgrown shrub, still smiling, “You love Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma too.”

“Too,” he emphasizes exasperatedly, “As in, I love you. I love you too. I love you as well. I love only you.”

You huff, “You’re so complicated,” gesturing out at the path in front of you, “Unlike this trail, you confuse me immensely.”

“How do you feel about my wives?” he promptly switches tactics, unsure how to further convey his intent, odd nervousness swelling in his fingertips Must be the heat.

You blush faintly, voice quiet as you respond, “I enjoy their company.”

“And they enjoy your company!” he exclaims, nearly jumping with frustration.

“What exactly are you trying to tell me?”

“That I love you.”

You almost groan, believing the conversation to have returned to square one, when your eyes widen comically, pace halting completely as you stare accusingly—excitedly—at his expectant expression.

“You want to marry me.”

He nods immediately, “Well, eventually, yes.”

“You love me,” you whisper, pointing at yourself.

Looking quite pleased, and significantly less stressed now, Tengen nods again, “Indeed.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?!” you shriek indignantly, smacking his bicep, wincing as you accidentally hit his armband.

“I did,” he shrieks back, poking at you with unavoidable speed, “I told you no fewer than seven times!!!!!”

#hashira x reader #preferences #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #gyomei x reader #obanai x reader #mitsuri x reader #shinobu x reader #kyojuro x reader #sanemi x reader #muichiro x reader #giyuu x reader #tengen x reader

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