#rip omelet

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | portal // forty-seven

| @thesimperiuscurse | @poisonedsimmer​

ABILITY CHECK | Taiyo is assigned a base stat of 10 wisdom. Riddle #1 requires a roll of at least 15. Riddle #2 requires a roll of at least 18. Riddle #3 requires a roll of at least 20.  Taiyo rolls, 20, 4, 20 respectively. He answers correctly on the first and third riddles, but fails the second roll and provides the wrong answer. For failing a portion of the check, Taiyo is inflicted with a blood hex.

next / previous / beginning  

TAIYO: The man who has crossed me is a lucky one. The man who faces me is short on time. The man who greets me will never see me… That is simple. The answer is death. WITCH: Very good. TAIYO: You will see me only once in a day, but twice in a decade. I happen every day of the week, but only in one month. The answer must be the letter “d”. WITCH: Right again. And the last? TAIYO: The second riddle… When I am warm, I am your fervor. When I am cold, I am your fear. Share me, and you'll be thick as thieves, but lose me and you risk it all. Could the answer be… heart? WITCH: A wise guess. But the wrong answer. The answer to my riddle, is blood. TAIYO: Then… I’ve failed? WITCH: Two out of three riddles is a decent show. You may ask one favor of me. TAIYO: R-Really? Then, I wish for my companion and I to be teleported back to the Eveydan sanctum. Please.  WITCH: Hm. Very well. THERION: Taiyo? TAIYO: I— TAIYO: Ther! WITCH: Don’t worry. He’ll get back in one piece. You’ll soon follow, but not without… a catch. TAIYO: A c-catch? WITCH: You did answer one question incorrectly. There must be a consequence. So go forth to your sanctum, but do so with this blood hex. Suffer the hex alone, and fall victim to its slumber. But spread it to another, and you will lessen its effects. You have seven days. TAIYO: But— WITCH: cackling Maybe that will teach you not to play with witches.

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #sims story #ts4 bachelor challenge #chosen of the sun #cc: therion erandaer #cc: taiyo hayashi #it's not quite D&D but adjacent #simplified without modifiers etc #checks will only come up when I need to write something in that can't be decided by a poll #but I don't want to control the outcome myself #so I used a d20 dice generator #rip omelet #ringu'd

[gender-euphowrya]

you wouldn't believe how bad i fucked up this rice

#in should be hanged for this gkfjfkdkd #tried to make omurice and the omelet turned out Really Nice #but i didn't time it right and the rice was undercooked when i was done making the omelet so #by the time the rice was Actually close enough to done cooking the omelet was just. too cooked to do the thing where #you open it with a knife and it unfolds over the rice gkfjfjd #i also put too much sauce in the rice aurgh #i'll get it right next time pls bare with me i'm still a level 1 cook #ate my omelet but couldn't finish the rice. rip rice. #TO BE FAIR that was a different brand than the rice i'm used to cooking #so i guess it needs more time than the other brand ? the instructions on the box were identical though #eurgh #why is food so hard

[anylucyduck]

I’m not a believer in the afterlife or any type of God, but if I’m wrong, I would really like to be shown how many omelets I turned into scrambled eggs over the course of my life.

#cooking #omelet #rip

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Summary: June brings the end of Harris's preschool career and the official beginning of your new life as a family of three--with a little help from your friends, of course.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), p in v, mentions of phone sex, grief and loss

WC: 7.8k

Chapter 20/20

A/N: With the official end of Trapped Under Ice, I am now opening up requests in the TUI universe. Thank you all for taking this journey with me as I processed my own grief. As long as you keep requesting, I will continue writing for our little family 💚

Thank you to @rip-quizilla for making that scene stronger. Ily, bb.

Divider credit to @saradika

The diner is bustling with customers, happily chatting over stacks of pancakes and overstuffed omelets. Coffee carafes clink against chipped mugs as the waitstaff pours refill after refill. 

You weave through the rows of tables, careful not to bump into servers balancing trays of food or busboys carrying the used dishes and silverware. A small yellow gift bag is clutched in your hand, and you hold it to your chest to protect its fragile contents. 

Harris spots you before you can see him; his little arm shoots up from where he’s tucked into the booth next to Wayne. 

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he frantically waves, his grin wide enough to stretch off of his cheeks. “Over here!”

You laugh, watching as Eddie scoots from the middle of the seat to the end, making room for you to sit down. There are two steaming cups on his side of the table, centered on little saucers that are likely older than you are. 

“Morning, baby,” he greets you with a smile, leaning in to give you a small kiss—no tongue, of course—as you slide in next to him. “You sleep okay last night?”

You nod sheepishly, remembering the phone conversation the two of you had had, well after Harris fell asleep. Eddie’s sultry voice had guided you through touching yourself; the next-best thing to having his own fingers inside you. 

“Wish I could be there right now,” he’d murmured into the receiver, so low that you could barely hear him. The faint sound of his own fly being lowered punctuated his words. “Wanna make you feel so good, Sweetheart, but I know you’re being a good girl f’me tonight, aren’t you?”

You bring the coffee mug to your lips, hoping to blame the heat creeping up your face on the drink, and take a hearty sip. It’s a little sweet, but mostly bitter. Just how you like it. 

The crinkling tissue paper as you lean back in the booth draws your attention to your company and away from your indulgent memories. “Happy Father’s Day, Eddie,” you kiss him on the cheek, your lipstick tinting his stubble pink. “This is from me and Harris. Be careful with it.” There’s a deliberate vagueness in your warning, not wanting to spoil the surprise. 

Eddie cocks his brow, clearly not expecting any sort of present from you. Shocking, considering you’d taken Harris to the Paint-n-Play on Wednesday during your usual tutoring session time, and you’d figured he would have spilled the beans as soon as he and his dad had a moment alone. He rustles around the bag with dramatic flourish, trying to build anticipation but only succeeding in testing Harris’s patience.

“Open it, Daddy! Open it!” Harris bounces up and down in his seat, mouth sticky and teeth tinted purple with grape juice as he urges Eddie to stop dragging out the process. Wayne discreetly places his palm behind his grandson’s scalp, protecting his head in case he rocks too far back. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart did it together!”

“You did, huh?” Eddie chuckles, pulling out a ceramic mug. It’s painted sky blue, and Harris had insisted on making purple polka dots, splotchy as he’d haphazardly dunked the brush in paint and pressed it to the plaster. Written in bright orange blocky letters is DAD; you’d helped him sound out duhh-ahhh-duhh, his little tongue poking out in complete concentration. Your only visible contribution is the tiny green 1997 painted along the handle, marking the first year you’d celebrated Father’s Day together.

The multitude of complementary colors and mismatched designs should clash. The dots look more like disfigured spiders than circles. The 7 you’d carefully written with a fine-tipped brush is slightly smudged from where Harris had picked up the mug before it had fully dried, and there’s an extra curving line extending from the first D in DAD after he’d started writing the letter backwards.

To Eddie, it’s perfect.

“I love it.” Brown eyes find his son’s hopeful gaze that eagerly awaits his father’s reaction. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.” He places the mug on the table next to the coffee-filled one in front of him, tipping its contents into his gift. A few drops dribble down the side, but most of it ends up where it should. A success, in his opinion. He takes a hearty gulp, not caring that the hot liquid singes his taste buds. “Is this magic?” He holds the mug up to his face, studying it like it’s a precious stone. “Because, I swear, it makes this coffee taste better.”

The little boy beams, exchanging an elated glance with you. “Ms. Sweetheart, did you put magic in it?”

Eddie chimes in before you can respond. “I bet she did. She’s sneaky with it; always sprinkling it where you least expect.” His empty hand finds your thigh underneath the table, silently claiming it as his own. “I don’t know how she does it,” he muses wistfully, adding another sugar packet to the mug and swirling it with a spoon until it’s dissolved. Like it was always part of the coffee from the jump. 

“Speaking of presents,” Wayne chimes in, unearthing a tiny, newspaper-wrapped package from his jacket pocket and handing it to his nephew. “‘S, not much, but it’s a Father’s-Day-slash-housewarming gift for ya.” 

“I thought we agreed on no gifts,” Eddie shakes his head, suddenly self-conscious about arriving empty-handed. 

“Well, I lied.”

Wayne watches as Eddie tears into the paper. Whatever home run or double-header had made the front page of the sports section is irrelevant compared to the mystery item that is snugly tucked between baseball stats and the upcoming game schedule. 

A small gasp leaves his mouth as he unwraps a wallet-sized picture frame; the word family is etched into the wood right above the plastic-protected photo. 

It’s from Harris’s bowling party; the one Wayne had taken of you and Eddie on either side of the birthday boy. Happiness radiates off of the three of you with such intensity that it seems impossible for it to be captured in a still frame. He’d forgotten that Wayne had even snapped it.

“Wayne, I…” Eddie struggles to find the words he needs to properly convey his feelings. The tip of his nose burns with the anticipated influx of emotions. “I’m gonna put it right next to my alarm clock, so it’s the first thing I see every morning.” 

You lay your head on his shoulder, the edge of his lips finding your forehead in a half-kiss. He soaks in the comfort you bring, absorbing it through every pore as he exhales and feels himself relax.

The waitress comes over with a notepad and a smile. “You folks ready to order?” She clicks her pen, poised to jot down what the four of you want to eat.

“Chicken fingers, please!” Harris announces, perching up on his knees and leaning his elbows on the table. “With French fries!”

The waitress, whose name tag reads Bee, offers a sympathetic smile and a soft click of her tongue. “I’m sorry, buddy. We don’t start serving lunch until 11:30.”

The boy’s lower lip quivers at the news, having his heart set on eating his favorite food. You can see his perfectly curated routine begin to crumble, taking his excitement with it. “But…but I even said ‘please!’” he insists, voice cracking. 

You step in quickly, wanting to salvage the Father’s Day celebration before Hurricane Harris can brew up a storm. “Hey, Har, I know you’re disappointed about the chicken fingers, but I have a super special idea.”

“Wh-What?” Misty eyes indicate that tears still threaten to spill over his lashes. 

“When Grandma used to take me to the diner, we used to split silver dollars. They’re pancakes, just smaller.” You take a deep breath and smile, hoping and praying that your plan works. “Would you like to share some silver dollars with me? And we can come back and get chicken fingers another time.”

Harris considers your proposition, rubbing his hands together along his knuckles to soothe himself. Finally, he says, “Can we eat them with syrup?”

“That sounds delicious.” You lean over and ruffle his hair, careful not to let any loose strands land on the table. “You wanna tell the waitress?”

“Mmkay,” he nods, turning to Bee and smiling. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are gonna have the, um, little pancakes.” He frowns, unable to remember the dish’s name. “The dollars?”

Bee laughs and nods, jotting it on her notepad. “An order of silver dollar pancakes, coming right up. And for you gentlemen?” She brings her attention to Eddie and Wayne. 

The older man clears his throat, ordering a Western omelet with home fries and rye toast. Eddie asks for the same but with white bread. “And a refill on the coffee,” he adds. 

Bee promises to be back shortly with the food, and the four of you resume your conversation. 

“We’ll get to take a new picture next week at someone’s graduation,” you say with a smile, looking in Harris’s direction. “Are you excited, Har Bear?”

Harris takes another messy sip of grape juice. “Uh-huh. I’m gonna go to kindergarten soon! But first is summer.” 

“Summer first, then kindergarten,” you agree, sipping your coffee before it gets cold. You’re no stranger to it, often setting down your to-go cup at work and forgetting about it until well after morning circle time, but you relish any chance you get to enjoy it while it’s still warm. “I was thinking: once you and Daddy are all moved in, we should make plans for this summer. Like the zoo, or the pool…”

“Yeah!” Harris claps his hands together and grins. “Or Disney World!”

Eddie’s ears perk up at his son’s suggestion. “Not this year, but maybe soon.” If he can continue moving up the ranks at the record store, coupled with the two of you splitting rent, it might even happen next year, but he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t guarantee he’ll keep. “And we’ll drag Grampa Wayne with us.”

Wayne responds with a shake of his head. “You’re outta your mind if you think I’m goin’ on any of those roller coasters.”

“You’re gonna sit and ride It’s a Small World the whole day?” Eddie teases, leaning back in his seat. 

“Damn straight.”

The food comes out ten minutes later, steaming plates carefully placed on the table. You cut the silver dollar pancakes into bite-size pieces, pushing half to the side nearest Harris and the other half closest to you. A glass syrup carafe waits to be used, its handle sticky with residue. 

“Say when,” you tell Harris, drizzling it back and forth across the plate. He waits until the pancakes are drenched before stopping you.

You watch as he uses his fork to spear some pancake, pops it in his mouth, and chews thoughtfully. “It’s yummy!” he declares triumphantly, already scanning the plate for his next piece. “This is my favorite food ever!”

You, Eddie, and Wayne share smiles; none of you take his declaration too seriously, knowing he changes his favorite anythings on an hourly basis. Still, a win is a win, and avoiding a chicken finger-induced tantrum is no small feat. 

Eddie spreads a pat of butter over his toast, but his eyes never shift from you and Harris sharing breakfast. You’d asked him whether he prefers blueberries or chocolate chips in his pancakes, and the discussion quickly devolved into a competition to see who could come up with the grossest pancake addition. 

“How about…” Harris wiggles his nose, “broccoli pancakes?”

“Ew!” You stick out your tongue in disgust. “That was a good one, but I think I can top it. Would you eat…” you tap your chin in contemplation, “fish stick pancakes!”

Harris squeals, far from an inside voice, but no one wants to correct him. “That’s super yucky! Fish stick pancakes?!”

Eddie smiles, tucking into his own food. He wants to savor the joy, the warmth. The twinkle in Wayne’s eyes, the upturned corners of Harris’s lips, the trill of your laugh. He wishes he could capture the feeling, but a mental image will have to do. 

He inhales and allows himself to be wrapped in the unconditional love he had once convinced himself he didn’t want nor deserve. 

The Hawkins Preschool cafeteria has once again been transformed. The custodians folded the long tables, propping them against the wall, and set up rows of folding chairs, leaving a small aisle for the graduates’ families to find their seats. 

Other parents stare as Eddie walks in, perspiration prickling under his arms as he hears them whispering about the kid who ran away. It’s audible enough for Wayne to hear; he rests his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and gives it a small squeeze before they take their seats. 

Jeff and Dustin arrive a few moments later, noticing Eddie and Wayne in the small crowd and shuffling over. Eddie pulls them each in for a quick hug, and Wayne does the same.

“Glad we made it,” Dustin says with a sigh of relief. “My flight got delayed half an hour, but we made up the time in the air.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “It didn’t help that we had to stop at a payphone so you could call your precious Suzie-Poo,” he huffs, but there’s a glimmer of a smile on his lips, proud of the way his friend cares so deeply for his partner. “Anyway, we’re here now.” He takes a seat next to Wayne, shifting so he can speak to Eddie. “Is Harris excited to graduate?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head at the recent memory of his son prancing around the apartment that morning in his cap and gown, small body drowning in the flowing green fabric. In that instant, Eddie could picture him as a young man, crossing a much larger stage to receive his diploma from Hawkins High. If Higgins is still the principal, Eddie might have to teach Harris the family tradition of flipping him off. 

Sue Sinclair makes her way up the small staircase to the podium, adjusting the microphone so she speaks into it easily. “Good morning, parents, siblings, and other special guests. Welcome to Hawkins Preschool’s Moving Up ceremony.” She beams, holding for applause. Eddie eases back into his seat; he’s known Principal Sinclair for years, since Lucas had joined Hellfire, and she’d recently stepped up to take over teaching Harris’s class for the remaining weeks of the school year. After the little boy had given his statement to the police, Marion and Paula’s teaching licenses had been immediately terminated, and negligence charges were currently pending.

“Before we get started, I’d just like to make an announcement.” Sue Sinclair looks over to where your class is standing, patiently waiting their turn to receive their sticker-laden diplomas. “I am pleased to announce that our very own Mr. Will Byers,” she extends her hand in Will’s direction, “will be our newest head teacher starting this fall.”

Though everyone in attendance is clapping, it’s obvious that Eddie, Wayne, Jeff, and Dustin cheer the loudest. Will blushes red, unused to being the center of attention, but the smile on his face shows how excited he is to take on this new role. You wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind and pull him in for a proud hug.

“Our students have worked incredibly hard this year, learning their letters, numbers, and how to be a good friend,” the principal continues. “And though we will miss them dearly, we are thrilled to send them off to kindergarten with these new skills. So, without further ado, let’s bring out our graduates!”

The ceremony begins, starting with your class. You stand at one end of the stage, sending each student off to where Will is waiting at the other end as Principal Sinclair reads out each of their names. They take their certificates and pose with baby teeth on full display while their parents snap photos from disposable Kodaks and bulky Nikons. All the seemingly endless days, the menial fights over sharing toys; every moment was worth it if it led to this.

You usher the kids to their seats in the front row after your final student’s name is called, spotting Eddie in the crowd as you sit down. He winks, the corner of his eye mischievously crinkling. You smile, taking full advantage of the other parents’ distractedness and give him a little wave; the exchange a private love letter.

Both of you bring your attention back to the stage when Sue Sinclair calls up the next class. Harris stands towards the center of the line, excitement buzzing through him at a rate that cannot be contained. He rocks from the balls of his feet to his heels, back and forth as he awaits his turn. His brown ringlets poke out from underneath his cap, grazing just above his eyebrows. 

Principal Sinclair pauses, looking directly at Eddie when she speaks. She understands the gravity of this accomplishment, her lipsticked smile reaching her eyes as she leans in towards the microphone.

“Harris Munson!”

Eddie jumps up, hollering as loud as his vocal cords will allow. Harris accepts his diploma and smiles wide, both at his accomplishment and at the sound of his dad cheering him on. His expression further brightens when he sees Wayne, Dustin, and Jeff beside him, and he waves while jumping up and down.

He’s supposed to walk from stage left to stage right, just as all the students before him have done; in typical Harris fashion, he takes the road less traveled. With a mighty leap, he catapults himself off of the stage and makes a beeline straight for you.

Two little arms wrap themselves around you, squeezing you as tight as they can. The brim of his cap is flush against your cheek. “I did it, Ms. Sweetheart!” His words carry a lightheartedness that only a child’s joy can bring. “Did you see?” He picks his head up from where it was nestled against you and giggles, dimpled chin brushing your bicep.

You tilt the mortarboard slightly upward and press a kiss to his forehead. “I saw, Har,” you tell him, using your thumb to wipe away your lipstick print, “and I am so, so proud of you.” Readjusting his cap, you usher him over to where the rest of his class is standing, a garden of happiness blooming within you. 

You look back at where Eddie is sitting, wishing you could sit next to him, fingers laced together while his thumb caresses the side of your hand and grasping your hand tighter when Harris’s name is called. For now, it’s enough to know that you’ll be by his side throughout all of Harris’s future endeavors and accomplishments. A team. 

Eddie’s palms press into his slack-covered thighs as he peers over at you and grins. Bright, adoring eyes meet yours, speaking every thought that his mouth can’t say right now. I love you. Thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you.

You accept the wordless praise with a smile, one that reaches beyond its usual confines. 

Dustin notices the small exchange, and he nudges Eddie’s ribs with his elbow. “She’s the one, huh?” He cocks his eyebrow knowingly. 

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie murmurs, no longer paying any attention to the remaining names being read aloud. “You ever think you’d see the day I settle down?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an ounce of insecurity behind them. 

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin nods without hesitation. “Always knew you would.” Carol Perkins shushes him from the row ahead, but he just flips her off and rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t you remember that time in high school when we got sloshed—sorry, Wayne,” Jeff cuts in sheepishly, “and you went on a rant about how you secretly wanted the whole wife, kids, picket fence deal?”

“And I believe I threatened to kick your ass if you told anyone,” Eddie points out, embarrassment turning his face red, apparent even under the light stubble covering his cheeks. 

Wayne chuckles softly. “I already knew. About the dream and the booze.” He laughs a bit harder at Jeff and Eddie’s shocked expressions. “If you keep replacing vodka with water, eventually, it’s all just water.”

“Ya don’t say.” Dustin’s sarcasm bleeds through his whisper. 

Principal Sinclair reads the last student’s name with the same enthusiasm she’s given all of the other kids. “I now present to you, the Hawkins Preschool class of 1997!” She mimes tossing a cap in the air, the students’ cue to do the same. 

The fervor of the cheers and applause could shake the cafeteria. Whistles pierce the air and reverberate off of the walls, none louder than Wayne Munson’s. You stand up, smoothing the pleats of your dress to soak in the achievement of completing another academic year; for you, this one in a brand new school with more challenges than you’d cared to endure. 

You and Will take in the sight of nine cherubic faces looking up at you in admiration, though they’re beginning to shed their baby fat. This was certainly a journey, and you couldn’t have asked for a better teaching assistant to walk beside you through it all. 

“I’m gonna miss you next year,” you say, squeezing him in a tight hug. 

“I’ll be right down the hall!”

Begrudgingly, you let go of him, not losing the pout on your lips. “That’s way too far for me.” The two of you both know that you’re serious; it won’t be the same without having him in the classroom with you. “Can we try to match up our breaks and eat lunch together?”

“It’s a date,” Will laughs, then juts out his chin to motion behind you, “but it looks like I might have some competition.”

Before you can turn around, Eddie’s arms wrap around your waist. He tugs you in close so your back is flush against his chest, the buttons from his shirt pressing into your spine. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs in your ear, lips so close that they brush the lobe. “Are you ready to start your summer?”

You kiss his cheek, adjusting your stance so you can walk hand in hand to get Harris. He torpedoes himself into Eddie’s stomach, shrieking with laughter as he’s lifted into the air. 

“Har Bear, you’re a preschool graduate!” Eddie smacks a kiss to his son’s temple. “How should we celebrate, hmm? Ice cream? Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Ice cream!” Harris decides easily. “I’m gonna get cotton candy with rainbow sprinkles and—Uncle Dusty!” He squirms out of Eddie’s grasp and races over to Dustin. 

“What? I’m not an ice cream topping!” Dustin teases, crouching down to ruffle Harris’s curls, matted to his scalp from being hidden underneath the cap. 

Harris giggles. “You’re so silly!” He glances back and forth from him to you, and you realize he doesn’t know that you’d met in March at Will’s birthday party. “Uncle Dusty, this is Ms. Sweetheart. She’s my almost-mommy.”

“Ohh,” Dustin replies with a smirk, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “I think she needs to be your dad’s almost-wife first–”

“All right! Ice cream time!” Eddie hurries to cut him off, glaring at Dustin for bringing the idea to Harris’s attention again; he has constantly been hounding him about marriage ever since he found out about his newest living arrangements. The idea of marrying you, however, eases his tension and has a smile tugging on his lips; a slight switch in expression that his uncle spots easily.

Wayne’s gruff whisper is in Eddie’s ear. “Sounds like it’s time for an almost-proposal.”

“Shut up!”

“I think that’s the last of them!” Jeff calls out, lugging the final cardboard box from his car into your apartment. He wipes his hands on his jeans and closes the door behind him, careful not to wake up his sleeping daughter in Viv’s arms. He looks over at where you, Robin, and Jess have begun unpacking, laying Eddie’s clothes in one pile and Harris’s much smaller clothes in another.

Jeff places a kiss on the crown of Viv’s head, then plants an identical one on Ettie’s. “Where are the guys?” 

“Harris’s room,” you say; bittersweet taste tinging the new label. It feels better than Grandma’s old room, but part of it will always belong to her. You hear Harris giggle as Eddie and Dustin re-assemble his racecar bed, spreading warmth that gently softens the sadness until it resembles sentimentality. “I’ll come with you; I have to put this away, anyway.” You grab the pile of Harris’s clothes and tuck it under your arm.

Eddie and Dustin sit on the floor, rogue screws spread around them as they intently study their project.

“I think this piece,” Dustin muses, picking up one of the sides of the frame, “connects with this one like that…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” He takes the screwdriver and twists the metal into the slot triumphantly. Your breath catches in your throat as his bicep flexes with the motion, perfectly displayed where his t-shirt sleeve had been cut into a makeshift tank top. “There we go.” He looks up and realizes you’re there, perfectly still as you watch him. “Hey, Sweetheart. Y’good?” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye; though it was inadvertent, he knows what he’s doing to you.

You only nod, the movement dragging you out of your momentary stupor. He chuckles as you place Harris’s shirts and pants in the dresser, fingers clumsily slipping over the knobs. It’s the same unicorn-covered dresser that had sent Harris into hysterics a few weeks ago, but you’d painted over it before he could see. It’s now a dark navy blue, no evidence of what once lay beneath.

Eddie’s amused by your reaction and subsequent embarrassment, running his tongue over his teeth and chuckling to himself, but his victory is short-lived.

“Hey, Casanova,” Dustin’s exasperated voice cuts in, pointing to the section Eddie just assembled, “you put the piece on upside down.”

Harris crinkles his nose. “What’s Casanova?”

Eddie buries his head in his hands as Dustin scrambles to explain. “It means your dad is trying to show off his handyman skills for your almost-mommy.” He winks in Eddie’s direction before leaning in and exaggeratedly whispering in Harris’s ear, “but he’s not doing a very good job.”

As soon as Harris distracts himself with setting up his toys, Eddie is saluting his friend with a quick flip of his middle finger.

You crouch down, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry; I’m very impressed.” He blushes when you kiss his cheek. “Your uncle’s going to be here with dinner in a few minutes, if you burly men want to wash up.”

Eddie nods, turning to his friends and his son and speaking in a deep baritone. “You heard the woman! Let us refuel so we may regain our strength for hunting and other masculine activities.”

Harris’s brows pinch together in further confusion while you and Dustin share an eyeroll, but the three of you follow your fearless leader out of the room. Eddie lets the two of them pass and waits for you, sliding a coy hand in your back pocket and murmuring against your hair. “Man and woman make fire in bedroom later?” He continues using the deepened voice.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s…that’s not a no, though, right?”

The summer sun is still high in the sky when Wayne arrives at the apartment, three pizza boxes still warm in his palms. He’s barely able to put them on the table before Harris is racing towards him, ready to give a full report of the goings-on of his day. 

Jess sits at the table, baby Ettie laying in her arms while she gives Viv a break and feeds her from a bottle. You place a piece of pizza on the paper plate in front of her, and one in front of Robin, who adoringly watches her girlfriend dote on a baby. Wayne sits in the third seat, thanking you with his kind smile as you pass him a slice.

You join Eddie and Harris on the couch; Jeff plops down in the La-Z-Boy on the other side of the coffee table, motioning for Viv to sit atop his legs, while Dustin has seemingly been relegated to sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Uncle Dusty, come sit next to me!” Harris chirps, nearly knocking your plate out of your hand as he bounces onto your lap. His curls tickle your chin as he leans over to take a bite of his dinner, dragging the cheese halfway off of the crust before Eddie holds it in place. 

Dustin obliges, squishing in next to you with an apologetic laugh, but you don’t mind. Dialogue melds together, with people seamlessly leaping from one conversation to another. Robin poses the question of what everyone thinks Ettie’s first word will be, which prompts Wayne to tell the story about how Eddie tried so hard to get Harris to say dada, only for the boy to scream out “SHIT!” in the middle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 

Jeff looks across the room at his tiny daughter. “Please don’t let that be your first word,” he jokingly begs her, picking a greasy pepperoni piece from his slice and dropping it in his mouth. While he’s preoccupied, Viv steals a bite of the crust. 

“Are you all going to the July 4th carnival next week?” Eddie asks through a cheesy mouthful. 

Everyone except Dustin answers in the affirmative. “Flying back home tomorrow,” he says, a round of booing from the group forcing him to pause mid-statement, “but Suzie and I are—hey, not cool!” He swats at a crumpled napkin that Eddie lobs at his head. “Suzie and I are going to try and visit for my mom’s birthday in August,” he finishes with a pointed look. 

Harris tilts his head back so you can see straight into his flared nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart, you’re coming to the carnival with us, right?”

“Of course! What rides are we gonna go on?” you ask, his little feet kicking at your calves as joy flows through his body. 

“The Ferris Wheel! Me an’ Daddy always go on that, an’ now you can come with us!”

He and Eddie always go on the Ferris Wheel. It’s a tradition that they share, and now they’re allowing you in. Now you’re part of it. 

You smile, kissing his forehead in a celebration of belonging and delight. “That sounds like a lot of fun,” you agree. “Do you think Daddy will play the games and win a prize for us?”

Eddie groans at your suggestion. “Those booths are all rigged. Every last one of ‘em.”

“I dunno,” Jess says teasingly, wiping Ettie’s chin with a cloth bib, “I won a stuffed animal from the whack-a-mole last year—”

“Oh, yeah! And I beat the Test Your Strength one,” Jeff adds slyly, getting a rise out of proving Eddie wrong. 

Eddie throws his voice to a falsetto, mocking his friend’s words. “I beat the Test Your Strength one,” he echoes nasally, chuckling when Jeff scoops up the napkin previously thrown at Dustin and hurls it towards Eddie. 

The rest of the evening continues like this, silly banter and recalled stories that end up being cut short or watered down for the impressionable ears listening in. It’s love in its many forms: between partners, between parents and their children, between friends. Each peal of laughter, each shared smile, each memory made adds to its foundation; brick by brick, layer by layer. 

The pink hues of sunset darken to indigo and eventually settle into a night sky, the moon shining brightly and unobscured by clouds. Eddie, Jeff, and Dustin finally manage to put the race car bed back together—and just in time. Harris’s yawns become more frequent until he can no longer fight sleep, dozing off with his cheek pressed against your chest. Soft snores leave his slightly agape mouth. 

“I feel the same way,” Wayne jokes, standing up from his chair and stretching his back with a grimace. “It’s been a long day.”

The group nods in agreement, quietly gathering their belongings and saying good-bye. 

“Thank you all for helping today,” you say, handing out hugs while keeping Harris sound asleep. He stirs but doesn’t fully wake up, even with all of the commotion. “We really appreciate it.”

Eddie seconds your sentiment. “It means a lot to us. We know we owe you a lot more than just dinner—”

“You guys are family,” Viv interrupts with a smile, gently rocking a sleeping Ettie in her arms. “This is what family does.”

A calloused hand rests on your shoulder from behind the couch; you lean your head on Eddie’s forearm and give it a small kiss. The delicate hairs brush against your lips, and you relax into his touch.

Your guests file out, already making plans to meet up at the carnival. Eddie closes the door behind them, insisting that he can beat Jeff at the Test Your Strength and demanding that his friend buy him a funnel cake when he does.

There’s a soft murmuring coming from Harris’s room, and Eddie walks as quietly as he can. He watches silently, shoulder pressed against the doorframe, as you place his son’s head onto the pillow. The crisp sheet is draped over his sleeping body, followed by the Buzz Lightyear comforter you’d bought at Kmart especially for him. Harris stirs for a moment to grab onto the blankets, tugging them to his chin and scrunching up his legs to assume a cozier position. He lets out a content sigh and slips back into his dream.

“Good night, kiddo,” you whisper, kissing his mop of curls. You look around the room, so different from when it belonged to Grandma. It seems larger, his race car bed taking up much less space than her queen-size bed did. A Lego set lies where her shoe rack once stood. The top of his dresser is covered in Hot Wheels, rather than the makeup and jewelry that Grandma had on hers. 

But it’s a good kind of different, one that comes with the natural ebb and flow of life. It brings inevitable change, and it’s your choice whether to embrace it or run away.

“You’re a natural at this bedtime thing, y’know.” Eddie’s voice, low and soft, places you back in the moment. He holds his arms out for you to nestle into them, holding you as close as he can. His thumb caresses your shoulder blade. “It normally takes a couple of stories, half a dozen pee breaks, and a horse tranquilizer to get him down.”

“I think being completely exhausted from moving helped,” you laugh into his chest. “And I’m right there with him. Man and woman might have to postpone their fire-making.”

Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against you. “Yeah, it wouldn’t be my best performance. Wanna make this one really good, since it’s a special occasion and everything.” He closes Harris’s door and leads you to the bedroom you two now share. “We gotta christen this bad boy.”

“We’ve had sex on this bed a million times.” You recall the ways his lips traced over your body, eager to memorize every inch of skin. 

“But that’s when it was only your bed,” he points out. “Now it’s ours.”

Ours. Our bed, our home, our family. Ours. 

You can barely change into pajamas before you’re falling asleep; Eddie manages to slip off his jeans and shirt, clad in plaid boxers and nothing else, before crashing down into the bed you now share. His arm slips around your waist, fingers reflexively dancing up your shirt, while he buries his head in the nape of your neck. 

When daylight breaks and the sun streams through the gaps in the blinds, Eddie has assumed a starfish position, blankets flung to the edge of the bed in what must have been a middle-of-the-night move. You’re still dozing, but he knows he has to wake you if he wants to sneak in some alone time before his son wakes up.

“Morning, gorgeous.” His breath tickles under your earlobe, pulling you close to him. You hum, not quite awake but no longer dreaming. “C’mon, wake up, pretty thing.” He licks his lips before kissing the exposed skin of your shoulder blades. 

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you turn over and face him. Your mouth lazily finds his, the cotton fabric of your pajama top fisted in his grasp. The outline of his morning wood is visible through his boxer shorts; it presses into your thigh as though greedily searching for your warmth. “You always wake up this hard?” you tease, fingertips already fiddling with the worn elastic waistband and dipping towards the treasure beneath. The scruff of his pubic hair grazes your knuckles. 

“Only when I dream of you,” he mumbles with a cheeky grin, climbing on top of you while shedding his only clothing article. The boxers fall to the floor unceremoniously. 

“Smooth.”

“I thought so.” Both hands cup your cheeks; you expect him to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Love waking up next to you.”

It draws a memory of the first morning you’d spent together; an inadvertent sleepover that culminated in one poorly-crafted lie and two broken hearts. He looks at you now, tired and yet still beautiful. How could I have let her slip by? How did I almost miss all of this?

You take the lead this time, arching your back so your torso melds into his, connected by desire. Eddie has your tank top off in a heartbeat, tongue swiping over your nipples the instant they’re visible. 

“Perfect,” Eddie groans, making his way down your abdomen. He places your legs on top of his shoulders, lips delicately fluttering over your clit so he can lick a broad stripe up your labia. “I know we should be having a quickie, but I can’t turn down breakfast in bed.” His face is buried in your pussy, inhaling your scent and committing it to memory. 

You giggle at his phrasing. If you question it, you know he’ll make a comment about you being good enough to eat. You give in instead, letting him ravish you just the way you both crave. 

One finger, then two, slip into your waiting cunt while his mouth focuses on your clit. You’re dripping with your arousal and his saliva; you bite your lower lip to stifle the noises begging to be heard. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you croak, trying to keep your voice down. “I’m so close, s-so close…”

Eddie says nothing, continuing to worship the taste of you. You can feel his victorious smile as you cry out his name in orgasmic bliss, toes flexing just as he brings you down from the high. 

“Need you, fuckin’ Christ,” he breathes, tempering the stimulation pulsing through his cock with a few short tugs. 

You nod, already electrified at the prospect of being split open on him. He sinks into you with a muted moan, savoring the way you envelop him within your warmth. “All mine, Sweetheart; you’re all mine.”

“Mhm,” you manage. Your fingernails dig into his upper back with a force that will surely leave crescent indents in his skin. “I’m all yours. Always will be.”

His thumb runs along your jaw and he smiles. She’s all mine.

The ridges of his dick form a delectable friction along your walls. Each thrust is a mutual give and take, an exchanging of selves with every breath. 

“I love you.” Eddie’s impossibly beautiful like this, hands holding your hips steady while sweat drips from his forehead onto yours. He brings your fourth finger between his lips; you can feel his tongue claiming it as his own. “And I’m gonna put a ring on this pretty little finger of yours, okay? Just want it to be perfect for you.”

You weave your fingers into his sleep-mussed curls and kiss him. “Don’t need perfect. I’ll marry you without a ring.” Whatever elaborate fairytale wedding you’d been crafting in your head is suddenly wholly unnecessary; all that matters is that you and Eddie commit to one another. But you know him well enough to not question his devotion to you. If Eddie Munson wants to give you the proposal of a lifetime, then that’s what he’s going to do. 

There will be no unkept promises this morning, no shattered hearts to mend.

He can’t hold back any longer, spilling into you with punctuating grunts. You receive every last drop gratefully, a part of him within you, and you finish for the second time today. 

“I meant it.” He gently withdraws from inside you, both of you mourning the loss of the other’s body. “When I said I’m gonna marry you, I meant it.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Eddie grins, laying on his side and propping himself up on his elbow. Sweat glistens along the sparse hairs curling over his bare chest. “Are you hungry? I know I worked up an appetite.”

You kiss his nose, biting the end teasingly. He yelps in mock pain, so you kiss it again. “I am, but I have to be honest—between all the unpacking and sex, I don’t have the energy to make breakfast.” 

“Me neither,” he admits with a laugh. “Why don’t we shower, wake up Sleeping Beauty,” he nudges his head towards Harris’s room, “and go to the diner.” He stretches and stands, eyes drawn to the nightstand, where the framed photo from Wayne leans against a porcelain lamp. Happiness captured with the click of a Kodak.

You’re smiling, thinking about sharing silver dollar pancakes with Harris again just like you used to do with Grandma. Somewhere along the way, you grew from the child to the adult in that scenario, passing on a tradition you never even knew had been started. 

“That sounds amazing.” As you say it aloud, something in addition to hunger gnaws at your stomach. You’ve been putting it off, hiding from the truth, but you want to stop pretending. You want to feel everything that comes with accepting reality. Without sorrow, you would never recognize joy. Without grief, you won’t understand the depths of our love beyond the physical plain. 

“Could we make a quick pit stop first?”

Though it’s still morning, the late June humidity has your shirt clinging to you, sweat beading along the collar and around your bra clasp. You close the car door behind you; Eddie shuffles to open the back door for Harris. The little boy unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the booster seat, glancing between you and his dad. You take his left hand and Eddie takes his right as you walk over to the stone. 

“Hi, Grandma,” you whisper, crouching down to better see the engraving. Gently, your fingers dance over the etched words: Beloved wife, mother, grandmother, and friend. “I know I haven’t been by to visit you yet, but I’m here now.” You muster up a small smile. “And I brought Eddie and Harris with me. They…they loved you, too.”

You falter for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Eddie’s hand rubs your upper back, not caring about how perspiration-soaked it is. 

“Do you want some privacy?” he murmurs. “Harris and I can wait by the car. You take as long as you need.”

You nod, watching them walk hand in hand to give you your space to grieve. Filling your lungs with a deep breath, you speak what’s been in your heart. 

“I need to thank you,” you start, talking directly to where her name is engraved, “for a lot of things. But I guess, um, the most important is how you taught me to forgive without taking shit—can I swear in a cemetery?—from people.” Your laugh is heavy with the weight of remembrance. 

“I miss you. A lot,” you continue, tears now spilling freely from your eyes. “I miss doing puzzles together. I miss cooking together. I’m going to try and make your applesauce for Thanksgiving this year. I think Harris will really like it.” You swallow thickly. “If you’d met him before you got sick, you would’ve adored him. He’s got the biggest heart of any kid I’ve ever met.”

You’re finding it easier to talk; everything you need to say is coming naturally and without hesitation. 

“He’s…he’s living in your room. I guess, technically, it’s his room now. But a little part of me will always consider it your room, too. And I think that’s okay.” You nod, confirming to yourself that it’s all part of the process. “He keeps asking me and Eddie when we’re going to get married. To be honest, I’m kind of wondering the same thing.” You smile at the thought of marrying Eddie, maybe even legally adopting Harris, if that’s something they also want. “I’m not in a rush, though, but I really do believe that Eddie’s the one. He’s my person, and I’m his. So, yeah, I’m definitely hoping that he proposes sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. I always thought losing you wouldn’t be as hard as it was, because it felt like I had already lost you to dementia.” It feels silly to admit aloud, but it’s the truth. “I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be easy. But I promise, I’ll stop by more often, and I’ll have plenty of cute Harris stories to tell you.”

There’s just a bit more that you need to share before you can go. “I love you, Grandma. And…thank you for loving me, too.”

You stand up, pressing on your knees to ensure your balance. Taking one last look at the stone, you run your fingers over the jagged marble and turn back towards Eddie and Harris.

The little boy is perched on his father’s hip, squinting into the sunlight to make out your form. “You ready, Ms. Sweetheart?”

You blink through misty eyes, staring at the two people in front of you. Ten months ago, if someone had told you that your one-night stand at a dive bar would end up being the love of your life, you would have laughed in their face. But the universe does what it must to remain in balance, and it doesn’t humor any arguments.

Inhale, exhale, repeat. This is where you’re meant to be. This is who you’re meant to be: a partner, a friend, an almost-mommy.

“Yeah,” you say finally, the tears clearing from your vision and a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I’m ready.”

--

💚

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[bunnybabecantwrite]

can you write where kusuo saiki acts like nothing around us but inside he’s like head over heels for us that just stalks us daily and steals clothes to jerk to and sometimes he takes place of a cat so you could give him kiss and hugs 🤭

thanks from pufa

this one turned out a bit shorter that expected but i hope you enjoy!

The cat’s outta the bag

Saiki x fem!reader | saiki is head over heels for you but is to shy to make any moves. | Tw: fluff, a little bit of smut, Saiki being a perv, stalking |

You tried so hard to make friends, you really did, but even though you managed to befriend everyone in your classes there was one person that never really liked you. His name was Kusuo Saiki, he wasn't very social to begin with, but you still tried to get him to like you. Somehow he was always in your circle of friends even though he barely even acknowledged your existence. Or at least that's what you thought, little did you know that cute scrawny cat you'd spend all your time with was him. 

“See ya on Monday!” shouted Mikoto as she left in the direction of her house leaving you to walk the rest of the way to yours, by yourself. You didn't quite mind walking the rest of the way alone since you lived rather close, but the area of town you lived in was sketchy nonetheless. However, there was something that did excite you for the walk home. That “something” was an oddly friendly stray cat you would invite into your home to keep you company. Perusal you found him, the scrawny white cat you have affectionately named Tomoya for his friendliness compared to other street cats you have met. Quickly scratching behind Tomoya’s ears you walk the rest of the way to your house, the cat following closely behind. Once at your house, you kicked off your shoes and fled to the kitchen to make a snack for the both of you. You decided on making something easy, tamagoyaki. Putting the rolled omelet on a plate you went to sit down next to the cat who before noticing you was rummaging through your left-out basket of laundry.  Turning on some trashy tv you ripped a piece of your omelet and gave it to Tomoya, it was slightly difficult to do so since Tomoya was stretched out along your torso, face tucked into your blazer. Before you knew it you had fallen asleep, but your little friend was just waking up. Who you thought was an innocent little kitty-cat called Tomoya was actually someone much less innocent. Tomoya or should I say Kusuo Saiki took advantage of you sleeping, taking time to switch from his alleged cat form back to human. Already having roamed your house before he knew exactly where your room was. It only took a little bit of searching for him to find just what he wanted, your used panties. Hearing your sniffles as you woke up, Saiki quickly pocketed the little treasures he found and returned to his cat form so suspicion doesn't arise. Now awake, you groggily opened the door for the cat assuming they wanted to return to whoever their owner is. Happily, Saiki trotted out your door already plotting all of the defiling things he was going to do with his newfound prize.

thank you for reading <3

#saiki k #saiki fanart #saiki x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k. #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #saiki x you #saiki x fem reader #saiki kusuo #saiki smut #saiki fluff #saiki no psi nan

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (part 2)

Tw: Afab and fem reader, Cyprus doesnt take no for an answer and keeps you in his apartment

masterlist, part 1, part 3

You woke up with the biggest hangover of your life. Your mouth was dry and your head was pounding against your skull, you could feel the alcohol from last night sloshing around your stomach.

You squeezed an eye shut while the other struggled to focus on your surroundings. This is not your bedroom.

Your blood runs cold upon realizing that you're not in your work clothes. But an oversized shirt that's exposing one side of your shoulder and reaching to your knees. Cyprus must have changed you last night, god knows what else he did to you while you're that vulnerable.

There is a ceiling fan above you that clearly hasn't been cleaned for a while. Old, ripped and yellowed posters of famous fighters were plastered on his off white walls, they're not even straightened. A pair of red boxing gloves were hung on the side of his wardrobe, whereas his suitcase is on a lone table by the corner.

You could hear something sizzling outside, it must be Cyprus cooking.

You got out of his bed and exited his room, gulping and bracing what's to come.

"Morning." He gruffed. You scanned the room and saw that it's a modest living room with a small kitchenette away from the main door. It's a bit bare, just a couch, a TV on a wooden stand, a dining table that fits four and a printer awkwardly pressed against a wall. It was resting on a stool.

There is a tattered punching bag in the corner, hanging from above. It has definitely seen better days.

You noted that he has two pedestal fans and another ceiling one, but no air conditioning.

You turned your attention to him, he was plating the food on some paper plates. Cyprus picked them up and turned around, tilting his head towards the table. You tried to ignore the fact that he's half-naked, only wearing a pair of shorts. You knew that the majority would salivate over his oddly unscarred, sculpted body and veiny arms. There was a healthy, bushy happy trail on his abdomen, looks like he had let them grow rampant.

You went ahead and sat down on one of the chairs. He placed a dish down in front of you before taking a seat himself.

It's toast, sausages and eggs, cooked the way you usually prefer.

"You told me last night, this is how you liked your eggs." He mumbled, digging into his own breakfast which consisted of the same items, just in more quantities fitting to his stature. "I hope I can trust the Drunk You."

You went straight to the point and asked what happened.

"We didn't fuck, if that's what you're asking." He nonchalantly told you as he stabbed his omelet with a plastic fork. "You puked all over yourself, so I had to change you before bringing you to bed."

You were astonished at the difference in his language at home, compared to the one at work.

You asked what the time is. You're going to be late for work and you cannot afford to lose this job.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he chewed. "Relax. I called in sick for you."

He did what now?

"I took an emergency leave off work today too. We're free until Monday." He continued, acting like this is a totally mundane topic to talk about.

You rubbed your face, dreading the day where you're going to have to face your coworkers.

"What's up with you?" He asked, staring at your flustered face. "And eat up, your plate is getting cold."

You asked him how he called in to tell your manager that you won't be coming in.

He shrugged. "Pick up the phone. Dial the number. Call. Hang up."

You said that wasn't what you meant, you asked what he told your boss.

"I said you were too sick to come in. What more do you want from me?"

You asked if you provided context behind his words. He couldn't just possibly do that on your behalf can he?

"I told Jane it was none of her business. All she needed to know was that you're not coming in and so am I."

Jane, the devil you and everyone else on your floor call a manager. He wouldn't have let that response slide if you were to do the same.

And she is a gossip super spreader. You're sure the entire building is already making their own speculations about the relationship between you and him.

You stood up and paced around, trying to expel the nervous energy you built up. Cyprus looked at you quizzingly as he munched on his toast.

You ask how he is so calm about all of this, does he not care about being the center of gossip when he gets back?

"Fuck them. I don't care what they think." He turned his focus back to his plate, stabbing more food and shovelling it into his mouth.

But you do. You didn't tell him that, though.

"Damn, sit down. You're always so jumpy. It's just me and none of Jane's crap you have to face at work." He complained. You still fidget with your hands and walk around in short circles.

"You know, I always wondered if you're as jittery when you're not in the office. I guess this confirms it, you are. How could you live like that, always feeling on edge twenty-four-seven?" He pushed his glasses back up, his grey eyes trailing your every move.

You told him that you have to go home. You have something to do, mumbling about chores and other weak excuses.

"That can wait. We should talk more." He brought his hand up to your arm, firmly grabbing them and trying to lead you back to your chair.

You said no, you have to go.

"You and I know it isn't urgent. Come on, sit down. I'll reheat your breakfast up for you." You managed to slip out of his loosened grip.

You asked where your phone, clothes and belonging are.

"They're in my apartment. Safe and intact. You'll get them, don't worry. Just, sit." His patience is thinning but you're too frazzled to notice.

You said you have to check your emails to see if Jane-

"Park it!" Cyprus barked as he rose up from his seat, pointing at the empty chair opposite of him, causing you to flinch at his raised voice. You hurriedly followed his command and sat down.

He sighed. "You really need to stop thinking about work."

You kept your lips sealed as you trembled. Fearing Cyprus. As promised, he took your plate to be reheated in the microwave. You wonder if it's safe to be microwaving a paper plate.

While that's happening, he pulled out two empty glasses from his cabinets and a jug of juice from his fridge. He sets them on the table and poured you and himself some.

"Christ, you're so shaky. Loosen up!" He snarked.

You said you have no idea how to approach this situation, it's completely new and you're being caught off guard. How are you going to relax when you don't know what to expect?

"Well, first off. I'm not going to hurt the girl I'm trying to get with." He walked to the microwave as it beeps. "That's you, by the way. If it wasn't already painfully obvious." He sarcastically remarked, pulling out your steaming plate.

"Here you go, princess." His tone was softened and endearing as he placed your plate in front of you once again, it's mildly soggy but still in one piece, holding your food. You reluctantly picked up your disposable plastic fork and ate, since your stomach was grumbling.

He returned to his seat and continued his breakfast too.

"Secondly," Cyprus gulped his food down. "I want you to tell me more about yourself, and I'll talk about my life."

You didn't respond to him, still warily watching him as you ate.

"I'll go first." He set his fork on his plate. "My name is Cyprus. Cyprus Andrea Rodriguez."

That explains the "R" in your Valentine's Day note. You found it amusing that his Initials spell out 'C.A.R'.

"I work in finance. You know that." You nodded.

"I smoke. I like my coffee black. I drive. I cook." He started rapid-firing facts about himself while counting his fingers. You already knew all these.

You asked him about the boxing gloves in his room. He smirked and leaned back against his chair, bringing his arms behind his head.

"Not so fast, your turn to tell me about yourself, pretty girl." You coughed in your hand to try and hide the fluttering of your chest upon hearing that nickname.

You also told him things that he already knew. You worked on the same floor as him, you do not smoke, you like your hot drinks a certain way and you like your eggs like how you're eating it right now.

He pursed his lips. "Pfft. Boring. I want to know what you do after work."

You said you would go home and scroll endlessly on social media. Or do more work.

"You're not fooling me, doll. I know a generic to-go reply when I hear one. I'm not your coworker here, you can tell me."

You thought about it. Yes, you would go to dinners and gatherings with your friends and other colleagues, but those aren't usually for fun. They're for keeping up appearances. Aside from that, you would just rot with your phone.

You told him that you would go out with friends.

"Who?" He brought his hands to his side and leaned towards you, now very interested in knowing your social circle.

You said he wouldn't know. It's no one from work. You quickly switched the conversation about his boxing gloves again. It seems like he wanted to say something else, but he ended up disclosing about his hobby.

"I box in my free time. It's a good way to release all that pent-up stress from dealing with Jane's shit on the daily." You eyed his deformed ears. Then you asked him if he does it for money too.

"Yes. It's one of my side hustles." He scraped the remainder of his eggs from his dish.

You asked what he was doing at the bar last night.

"Ah, ah. Your turn to answer my question, pretty girl. What were you doing at the bar last night?" He narrowed his eyes at you.

You said that you felt like drinking and going to the bar outside office hours. Was that so wrong?

He stared at you for a bit before replying, "You don't seem like the type."

You asked what he meant by that.

"You were never great at handling your own stress, doll. I know you don't like the smell of bars and the taste of booze. You were there as a 'last-resort' type of act, and I bet it's because of the guilt for standing me up."

While that is true, you don't necessarily appreciate Cyprus calling out as it is. You would very much prefer to remain in denial.

You said he has a good point. Then you proceed to ask him why was he there, in that one specific bar out of thousands in the city.

"I was there for a boxing match."

A match? Where?

"Somewhere." He was vague in his answer, you can only assume that it's nearby. "Next, what do you do on the weekends?"

You do not like these questions. They make you reflect upon your life.

You said spending time with friends, rot on the internet, or work. The last part made Cyprus grimace in disgust.

"The last thing on your mind during the weekends should be Jane's bitching. Work? Really?" You shrugged, saying that you're trying to save up enough for... you actually don't really know what you're saving for at this point. You're just doing what everyone is doing.

"You know you can't bring all that cash with you when you're dead, right?" He stood up, taking the empty disposables with him. Cyprus chucked it into the trashcan in his kitchenette.

You disregarded his last sentence and asked him about the paper plates and disposable utensils.

"They're cheap, and I don't have to do the dishes." what an interesting way of living.

You asked about his plans over the next three days. A flash of fear crossed your mind when you remembered you had to face your coworkers on Monday. They are going to ask all kinds of invasive questions and you're going to have to speak like a politician.

"What do you want to do?" He asked, leaning against his counter and staring down at you.

You said you wanted to pack up and go home.

He lets out a loud buzzing sound from his vocal cords. "Wrong answer, I'm not done with you yet."

You asked if you could at least have your clothes back.

"Later. They're in the wash."

You asked where is the wash.

"Downstairs."

You asked if you could go downstairs.

"Nope."

Why?

"It's lame down there, I'd have to say hi to my neighbors. And, I want to talk to you alone."

You asked if you can have your phone.

"Nope."

Why?

"It's charging."

Where?

"Not telling you." He pulled out a pack of smokes from his pocket and switched the stove on to light the cancer stick up.

You said you need your phone.

"To do what? More work? Dream on, I'm not helping you waste your life." He placed the cigarette into his mouth. Cyprus walked up to the window and blew puffs out of it. Occasionally he tapped his cigarette to knock the ashes off it.

You said you just need to check it. Someone might try to contact you in the event of an emergency!

"Trust me, it's nothing important. They're all from Jane." He took another drag of his cig.

You asked when will he be "done with you".

"When I feel like it."

You fell into silence, trying to think of something else to ask.

"I like you." He said, supporting himself over the windowsill with an arm. "You don't play that fake bullshit with me, you don't try to kiss my ass or fuck me over either. I like that a lot."

You watched him enjoy his smoke.

"You don't go around blabbering with a huge mouth. You're the only one in that damn building who minded your own business and respected me. I liked that."

You don't think you're any less nosy than your coworkers. But it was fascinating to see yourself through his eyes. Was that how you came off? You just didn't give a crap about Cyprus because he was antisocial and most likely wouldn't help you advance or destroy your career.

"And you're so fucking cute too. I had to snatch you up before anyone else did. But I couldn't lay it too thick, you and your reputation among the other mindless drones. I would have scared you off if I gave you roses in person, those pricks would have made a huge deal if I signed your letter with my full name." He stubbed his finished cigarette against the ashtray on the windowsill. Cyprus turned around and moved to the chair, he pulled it out and sat on it.

"I guess I came on too weak. It's fair. You wouldn't have known your gifts were from me. Did you like the chocolates? They were selling out fast, I knew I had to grab one for you."

You said it was nice, not knowing how to respond to his long rant.

You blurted out a question, asking him how he would define the relationship between you and him.

"You're my girl, duh."

You didn't know how to ask the next question without sounding rude or condescending, you wanted to ask what made him think you agreed to it. But no matter how you try to frame it, your question appears as a rejection. You didn't have to ask to have it answered, since he deduced from your uneasy expression.

"Fine. Deny all you want." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Let's see how long that lasts."

You decided to rip the bandaid out and told him you're not interested in a relationship. You tried to convince him that you were not worth the effort, but your words entered one ear and out of the other.

You were interrupted by a hearty laugh erupting from his throat. It soon died down, Cyprus leaned closer, and he lowered and deepened his voice to a husky growl.

"You should know, that once I set my sights on you, there is no stopping me." His piercing grey eyes struck terror in your heart. "I am a dogged man, princess. I do whatever it takes to get the girl I want and I don't share."

You're uncomfortable, this is a completely different Cyprus than what you're used to. You missed the quiet man who would keep his distance from everyone, not this menace.

You're going to have to figure out how to deal with your new unwanted lover by Monday.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere concept #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc cyprus #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #cw yandere #tw afab reader #male yandere oc #obsessive yandere #tw: yandere #yandere ocs #yandere x y/n

[the-kr8tor]

Under the clocktower

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Synopsis: Hobie's stuck in a time loop where he keeps seeing you die over and over again. He tries to find a way to escape the loop, at the same time saving you from your fate.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood, TW death, TW injuries, TW violence, established relationship. Time loop AU, angst.

My masterlist

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Hobie opens his eyes, the blinding light from the early morning sun mixed with the smell of burning breakfast wakes him up instantly. He jumps off the bed running towards the smell.

His body feels heavy somehow, his lungs sit weirdly in his chest, his eyes wide and alert. It's like he swung around the city while asleep.

He shakes it off attributing it to not sleeping well. Shutting off the stove he sighs at the burnt omelet. He briefly sees the clock on the stove in his peripheral- 8:00 am

Good thing he reached the kitchen before the fire alarm went off, he grabbed a nearby rag to fan away the smoke. Suddenly hearing wet feet squelch across the wooden floors, Hobie instinctively looks towards it.

"Fuck, the eggs!" You run around the corner in your bathrobe, your hair wrapped in a fluffy towel. Running too fast on your wet feet, you slide across the floor, hitting your hip against the table. You're sure it would leave a nasty bruise.

"It's too early to burn down the flat, don't you think so, love?" Hobie puts his hands on his hips, annoyed that he woke up so early. Sweats hang low on his waist, an old band shirt ripped at the sleeves, his arms and midriff on full display.

"Ow, sorry Hob," you rub your aching hip, "I'm sorry I woke you up, grumpy" you close the small distance.

"You better be sorry," he grabs you by the waist, inching his hand toward the hastily wrapped belt of your bathrobe. "I'm still bloody tired" he says with a yawn.

"Aww, my poor baby Hobie," you cup his cheeks, "let me kiss it better" you peck the corner of his eye, your soap and strawberry scented shampoo fills his senses.

While you're distracted, he slowly unties your robe. Noticing the sly movement, you grab at Hobie's wrist. "Tsk tsk. Not today, babe. First day at my new job, remember?"

"Ah shit, that's today?"

"Yep, can't be late" you kiss his lips quickly before he escalates things. "You can go back to bed, I'll see you tonight" you push yourself off Hobie.

"Good luck" he pulls you back by your hand, "remember they're lucky to have you, not the other way around" Hobie kisses your knuckles while looking into your eyes.

You chuckle, "I know what you're doing, Hobie Brown. It's not gonna work"

"Worth a shot" he finally lets you go.

The doorbell rings, both of you looking at the intrusion. Who could that be this early?

"I've got it, Love. Can't have you answering the door in your robe can I?" Hobie winks at you tiredly, which makes his eyelid move slowly.

"Very sexy, babe" you shake your head as you head back towards the bathroom.

Grabbing the door, he sees your neighbour mid knock.

"Ohh, hey!" He looks disappointed "Morning neighbour!" Hobie winces at how chipper this man is this early in the morning.

"What is it?" Hobie asks flatly, leaning on the doorway.

"Ah," he subtly looks behind Hobie "do you have any sugar, white preferably. You see I'm making ensaymada -"

"Wait there" Hobie cuts him off, disinterested at whatever information he was about to share. He just wants to go back to bed.

He shuts the door with a bang.

"Who's at the door?" Your muffled voice rings out.

"No one, just your neighbour!" Hobie yells out so that the man outside hears it.

He grabs a bag of sugar from your pantry, Hobie opens the door, quickly handing it off.

"Thanks! Can you tell-" He gets shut down again when Hobie closes the door in his face.

"Welcome"

Hobie plops himself back on the bed, he groans when his back cracks. He falls asleep to the sound of your humming.

--

Chaos rains downtown, buildings crumble around Hobie while he pursues Green goblin. Everything went bad so fast, he didn't see it coming. Green goblin cackles menacingly while she randomly throws bombs below her hoverboard.

She went completely off the rails when Hobie got a few punches in, desperate to get away, she just started chucking random stuff at him, conveniently one of them was a bomb. The explosion threw him off, Goblin got a few blocks ahead of him, but Hobie's determined.

He swings after the flash of green, he hears the familiar chime of big ben - 6:00pm

Goblin leads him towards the tower bridge, it's packed with vehicles because of the rush hour, that's not good.

"Catch, Spider-Punk!" Goblin chucks another bomb below her, she clearly knows this one will surely cause chaos on the bridge.

With his quick thinking, Hobie grabs the bomb with his web, slinging it away from the crowd below. A shockwave resonates through the old bridge, its old wiring swings letting out a metallic groan. puffs of green smoke cloud above the area.

Hobie hears screams below him, looking down he sees the crowd scrambling away from danger. His senses send electricity through him, he looks back toward Goblin, she's now just hovering in place, in both of her hands she holds belts full of spherical bombs, she holds it against the edge of her hoverboard, threatening to let go.

"Don't you dare!" Hobie webs up both of the belts holding the spheres, ready to fling it away. Before he could do just that, the clips holding the bombs give out, time seems to slow down as Hobie watches in horror, the little balls of destruction falling down like rain. Goblin's shrill laugh pierces Hobie's ear drums.

He ignores the crazy lady, instead he goes after the green orbs. He webs as much as he can reach, quickly throwing them off the bridge, they go off the second they hit the water below. He keeps repeating this process till he's sure he got all of them out.

He lands breathlessly on the concrete, he points towards the nearest end of the bridge, guiding the remaining people off the bridge. Roaming his eyes above to see where Goblin could be.

His senses go off again, Hobie's ears perk up towards the faint ticking sound. He sees the ball bounce off a taxi, it doesn't go off, instead it just lands down the concrete with a clink. He eases up a bit, figuring it might be a dud. Until he looks inside the black taxi, Hobie sees your terrified face against the taxi's window, you're struggling to open the door.

Electricity pulses through him, sounding off alarms. The whites of his mask widen when the sphere stops ticking.

It's not defective, it was just counting down.

You finally notice him, frozen in fear. He tries to reach you, but the shockwave from the explosion stops him, Knocking him down.

The sheer force of the explosion flips the taxi, tethering close to the edge of the bridge. Green smoke covers Hobie's vision, he can barely make out the silhouette of the dark car, he throws caution into the wind, he doesn't look for more ticking bombs, instead he quickly runs toward the creaking metal.

He finally reaches you, as the car finally falls. Hobie quickly webs up the trunk of the car sticking its end on stagnant cars, and columns. He hears your muffled screams inside the deathtrap.

"Hobie!" You desperately scream for him, clinging to the car's headrest, the taxi swings against the wind. You can see him trying to pull you up.

Seeing Goblin wreaking havoc, you see her throw more bombs towards fleeing civilians, you make the conscious decision to yell at him to help them instead.

"Hobie! On your left!" Your throat burns trying to get his attention.

Thanks to his spidey senses and your desperate pleas, Hobie understands quickly, he ties the web he's holding onto a nearby truck, hopeful that it sticks until he can get you out.

"I can do both" Hobie whispers

He yanks Goblin down from her hoverboard with one precise shot of his web, she falls hard on the concrete. In one swift movement Hobie grabs his guitar on his back, using it as a bat, he swings it against the ticking bombs, before its countdown ends.

They explode in mid air, green clouds rain over the historic bridge.

Hobie runs back to you, on his way he notices that Goblin recovered and is nowhere to be seen. He'll find her later, right now he needs to save you.

He swings towards the edge where he last saw you, the only thing he sees is the cold rushing water swallowing the taxi.

His breath hitches in his throat. His knees threatened to collapse under his weight.

"No, not you" he weakly says.

Before he follows you towards the black depths, Hobie sees the Green Goblin rise up from under the bridge right in front of him, a sickenly bloody smile on her face.

"Got your little birdy, spidey" she shakes your terrified form, her claw-covered hand covers the bottom half of your face painfully, your feet floating a few inches off her board.

"Mmph!" You yelp for him as you try to reach him with your hands.

"Let them go! Or I swear I will tear you apart!" Hobie barks out, he doesn't recognize his own voice.

"Oh, okay!"

Your terrified eyes look back at him.

One minute you were in Goblin's hand, the next you were falling to your demise.

Electricity cackles around Hobie, he leaps off the edge, everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Shooting a web towards you, he curses gravity, his web merely a hair's width away from your form. Your fingertips graze its ends.

Your head hits the water in a horrible cracking sound.

A cold splash hits Hobie's masked face, he braces for impact.

The water hits him like a truck, but he shakes it off, adrenaline pulses in his body like never before. He tries to find your form under the dark water.

It's dark and quiet under, the only thing he could hear is his own heart thumping in his chest. He hopes to hear yours too.

He roams his eyes, his eyes squinted looking for your familiar silhouette. Hobie finally spots you, slowly floating down towards the endless void. He swims down as fast as his limbs could, his air is running out, he's afraid yours might be too.

He grabs hold of your arm, Hobie quickly brings you against his chest, he ignores the absent beating of your heart.

Reaching the surface was an uphill battle, but he finally got you out. Stopping by the riverbank, he doesn't waste any time doing CPR.

He dares to look at your face, Hobie lets out a pained sound when he sees your dull eyes looking up at nothing, your lips slowly turning blue. He counts in his head to keep track of his chest compressions.

15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

" C'mon lovey, breathe for me please"

25 26 27 28 29

Your lips are now a harsh blue color, he whispers your name like a prayer.

30

He quickly puts his lips on yours to breathe into it, he does it twice, desperation increasing in every breath he gives you. He counts again.

10 11 12 13 14 15

He lets out a pained sob, he bites his lips to stop more from coming out.

16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

"I can fix this" he ignores the aching in his arms.

26 27 28 29 30

He breathes into you again and again. He takes a step back to examine you, no reaction.

Desperation, fear and anger flows through every crevice of his body. But his mind fills with you, only you.

He takes his stance again-

Silence

Searing pain ebbs out of his chest, crimson flows from the wound, Hobie finds himself impaled on Goblin's hoverboard, his back trapped in between a wall. Green Goblin lets out a victory screech.

He groans out, his blood seeps through his mouth, gagging on it.

He's dying.

How poetic he thought, dying mere minutes after you. You once joked that you're soulmates, he now thinks you're right.

"I DID IT, I KILLED SPIDER-PUNK!" Her laugh slowly fades away, like he's walking away from her.

He imagines that he does and instead of your lifeless body waiting for him, he imagines that you're standing there, smiling at him. His only wish is that you both end up at the same place.

Big Ben's clock rings out again.

"I should've tried harder," He murmurs. Darkness embraces him like an old friend.

>

Hobie opens his eyes, sunlight tears his red eyes open. He quickly sits up breathless. He grabs his chest, kneading it with his knuckles. He smells something burning.

Hobie gets up, heading towards the smell. He stares at the pan - omelette or what it used to be an omelette.

"Fuck, the eggs!" You run around the corner in your bathrobe, Running too fast on your wet feet, you slide across the floor, almost hitting your hip against the table. Hobie stops you mid slide with his web shooters. You would've hit the table pretty hard.

Why did he know that?

You look towards Hobie looking dumbfounded. "Hobie, why are you just standing there? Turn it off!"

He snaps out of his stupor, turning down the knob he looks at you, his breathing heavy.

"Shit, sorry for yelling, Hob" you grab a rag to fan the smoke out.

You look at Hobie, he has a weird look on his face. He hugs you suddenly, his face landing on the crook of your neck. Hobie recognizes the smell of your soap and strawberry scented shampoo, he takes a deep breath.

That was just a dream, right?

"You better be sorry"

"Aw, my poor baby Hobie, did I wake you up with my culinary skills?" You rub his cheek with your thumb, "I'm sorry I woke you up, grumpy. Let me kiss it better" you crane your neck to peck the side of his head.

Just a dream, right?

Hobie anxiously fiddles with the belt around your robe, you take it as flirting. "Tsk tsk. Not today, babe. First day at my new job, remember?"

You pull away from his warmth, cupping his face, you look directly at his eyes. Hobie briefly sees your lifeless eyes staring back at him.

You take his lack of response to being sleep deprived. "Can't be late" you kiss his lips "You can go back to bed, I'll see you tonight" you push yourself off Hobie.

He calls after you, "remember they're lucky to have you, not the other way -" your doorbell rings.

"Could you get that for me?"

Grabbing the door, he sees your neighbour mid knock.

"Ohh, hey!" He looks behind Hobie completely ignoring him, staring at your bathrobe clad body "Morning neighbour!"

You wave at him awkwardly while you fix your robe to cover yourself up more.

Hobie notices, his eye twitches at the realization. He closes the door slightly, so he's blocking the creepy neighbor from you.

"What is it?" Hobie asks flatly, leaning on the doorway.

"Ah," he subtly tries to take a peek at you behind Hobie "do you have any sugar, white preferably. You see I'm making ensaymada -"

Hobie's ears perk at the last word. He stares at the man suspiciously.

"What did you say?"

"Ensaymada, it's a pastry with-"

"I know what the fuck that is, it's their favourite, why the fuck-"

A dream, right?

"Wait there" Hobie cuts him off, he shuts the door with a bang.

He grabs a bag of sugar from your pantry, Hobie opens the door, tossing it off.

"Oof, Thanks! Can you tell-" He gets shut down again when Hobie closes the door in his face.

Hobie slowly walks back towards the bedroom, he sits on the foot of your bed. He feels tired, wondering what the hell is happening to him. He lifts his shirt to look at his chest, no sign of a wound. He looks around your room, nothing seems out of place, it's the same cream colored walls, the same bed, and dresser, the same lab coat hangs on it, ready for your first day at work.

Hobie plops down, his muscles aching for relief, he starts to drift back to sleep, until he hears you humming the same tune, in the same cadence. Hobie's eyes open in a flash.

"This already happened"

–-

Hobie goes about his day, knowing what happens today, he has the advantage. He can save you this time.

Hobie anticipates every move Goblin makes, he dodges everything she throws at him. Bombs still get thrown about, but now he has the time to react before it causes chaos.

She can't get a single hit in, watching every precise movement he makes, knowing her every move before she even does, it terrified her, so she just flies away crossing the Thames, she sees an opportunity to stop Spider-Punk from chasing her.

Goblin in her desperation, haphazardly throws every single one of her bombs below, Hobie tries to fling them away but he couldn't stop every single one of them from detonating. Loud booms and green smoke cover the iconic bridge.

What did he do wrong?

Spotting you from above, Hobie dive bombs towards you, he's a few feet above you, he reaches out to you, your fingers brush against each other as a bomb explodes near your feet.

>

Hobie opens his eyes, he feels a harsh heat staying on his face, like a lingering taste.

"FUCK!" He screams, "this can't be happening" he holds his head in his hands.

"Babe you okay?" You come out of the bathroom, smoke fills Hobie's nostrils like some kind of cruel joke.

"No! My breakfast!" You rush out.

He follows you, as you fan away the fumes, Hobie hugs you from behind.

"Hey grumpy, sorry about that" you lean against his chest, you crane your neck so he could slip his head on the crook of it.

Hobie smells your familiar scent along with a hint of smoke, he promises into your skin that he would try harder to save you, no matter how many tries it takes him.

"Are you okay? You seem out of it"

"Just tired, lovey"

"You know that I love you, right? I'm right here, you can tell me anything"

"I know"

He left your flat at the same time as you, following closely behind your cab. He's paranoid that Goblin knows that she's in a loop too and might try to get the upper hand.

Hobie finds Goblin before she could find him. He leaves her body beaten on the pavement.

How she reacts with his questions with every angry hit, it's safe to say, she doesn't know about the day resetting.

Hobie continues on throughout the day, Big Ben rings its bell - 6:00pm

This time instead of the Green Goblin surprising him, it's the Vulture.

They fight, and eventually end up on the bridge. They clash against each other, Hobie doesn't have the advantage of precognition this time, but what he has is pure unadulterated anger.

Hobie tries everything, but you still fall. Grasping your limp body, he lets the vulture take his revenge.

The clock chimes again

>

Hobie opens his eyes. This time he doesn't waste time, he swings away immediately, leaving you confused.

He finds Goblin, then the Vulture, but still another Villain replaces them.

Hobie almost beats the Lizard but alas with his enhanced healing he gets up over and over again. Hobie, exhausted and bleeding, watches you cradle his limp body, Lizard's massive shadow falls over you.

You both die in the hands of the Lizard.

>47

Hobie opens his eyes, he starts to count how many times he looped back.

No matter how he keeps killing and trapping all the villains that somehow keeps replacing each other on that bridge. More and more obscure ones start filling the role of your murderer. They seemed endless.

You and Hobie have been impaled, electrocuted, burned, and tossed into a vacuum of space. And yet he keeps coming back to the same day, on the same bed, waking up to the same smell.

He ignores it, he wonders what he did to deserve this. Seeing you die over and over again is hell. That must be it, he's in hell, he doesn't believe in it, but after hearing your pained screams, and countless times he tried to revive you, he's starting to believe in it.

You jump out of the shower, running towards your stove, you don't notice him awake.

After seeing you alive and well, he's sure this isn't hell, because if it is you wouldn't be in it.

>81

He tries something new, he confronts your weird neighbor, he lets his anger get the best of him. Hobie dumps the bag of sugar on his head, letting it fall on him like snowflakes.

You still drown, he still gets killed by Goblin.

>104

He wakes up with anger boiling inside him. Why can't he save you? Why is he so slow? Why can't he figure out what's causing this time loop? He lashes out on you leaving you sobbing on your floor.

You die in his arms this time, thinking that he doesn't love you.

He curses himself, as he lets the uncontrollable fire consume him.

>141

He invents various gadgets made from scrap, to aid him in fighting. He wasted the entire day creating them.

Hobie uses them once, but he still fails. You still fall, he gets burned.

At least he gets to bring his hardwork in the next loop right?

>142

Hobie opens his eyes, his gadgets are nowhere to be found.

He curses his optimism.

>173

He has every villain's attack pattern memorized and predicted, he stares at Vulture's lifeless body on the pavement.

He finally beat one on the bridge.

Breathless he looks behind him, he stares at your wide eyes, your white lab coat is a stark comparison to the chaos around you.

He did it, now to get you home.

Hobie was just staring at you, in a split second, you're hanging from Goblin's hoverboard, the sharp end of it sticking out of your chest.

"NO!"

Goblin laughs as she throws numerous bombs at him, Hobie falls on the bridge, his right arm no more.

"I almost had it" he weakly says as the dark waters of the Thames engulf him.

>212

Hobie's falling apart at the seams.

>237

Hobie opens his eyes, his muscles feel like they're being torn away from his bones. His eyes grow heavier with every revival. His ears are still ringing from the bell's endless chiming.

He needs help, so he goes after you in the kitchen. "Hey" he says morosely.

"G'morning, grumpy-" you turn around, gasping at the sight. Taking in his slouched posture, sunken eyes, his signature smirk notably absent. He looks exhausted.

"Hobie?" You ask, as if you weren't sure it's really him. "What happened? Are you okay?" You slowly close the distance, careful not to startle him.

"Baby?" Grabbing his shoulders, he falls forward with a thud.

"I think-" he clings to you "I think I did something wrong"

Your heart breaks for him "could you tell me what it is?"

He pulls away "I'm stuck, I don't know what to do" he cups your face, for a second, he sees blood covering it, your once bright eyes turning white, then your face comes back to normal "Please, help me"

"Let's sit down, yeah?" You lead him towards your emerald couch. Was it always this colour? It reminds him of the smoke billowing from Goblin's bombs.

He puts on a brave face, "what I'm about to tell you sounds crazy, but please stay with me" and so he tells you everything, starting from the beginning to end.

He thought not telling you of your death might help you swallow it down better, so he doesn't, instead Hobie tells you that he keeps dying over and over again.

After rambling you look at him, emotion unreadable on your face.

"I believe you," you kiss his hollow cheeks "I believe you" you put your forehead against his, grounding him to reality.

"I'm so fucking sorry, it didn't work out, our plan" he murmurs.

"What? Hobie, how many times have you asked for my help?" You pull away, cringing at your tone, he might interpret it as anger.

"This is the thirteenth time"

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"Every single time I've told you, you always believed me, not once you didn't. But I've never asked you, why do you always help me?"

"Because, I love you, Hobie Brown. You could tell me that whales could walk on land, or the sky is falling and I would believe you"

For Hobie the sky IS falling, every time he sees you die, his world ends, and he's powerless to stop it.

"I have every reason to help you, because I can't lose you"

That's a first from you. Hobie never thought of it that way. He was too focused on saving you that he forgot to save himself.

Hobie thinks of something he has never done before in a couple of hundred rotations.

"So, what if we don't do anything? We just stay here, doing nothing" Hobie asks.

"We've never done that before?"

"Never, it could work. Us staying out of danger" determination sparks in his eyes.

"Then let's do just that" you smile.

Hope sparks in Hobie's veins. It has to work.

So you don't do anything all day, you don't go to work, he doesn't do his patrol, Hobie doesn't open the door.

You do your usual things at home, eating together, cleaning the flat to pass the time, savoring each other's presence.

Hobie feels his soul slowly get stitched back together again. This could work.

Your alarm rings out, he glimpses at it 6:00pm

His heart thumps in his chest loudly, he's sure you could hear it too from where you're cuddling into him. You make a fist, before rubbing your knuckles over his chest, your way of calming him down.

You're both gonna make it to tomorrow, he's sure of it.

"I don't know how this could end, but I want you to know that I love you so fucking much. If we make it to tomorrow, know that I will continue loving you every day" he wipes a lone tear on your cheek. "If we keep reliving the same day over again, I will love you in every cycle"

You crane your neck to kiss him, he closes his eyes in anticipation. Your lips never reached his.

>238

Hobie opens his eyes, He lets out a guttural scream.

You rush out of the bathroom, concerned.

He tells you what's happening again.

You have the brilliant idea to leave, just leave the city till the sun rises the next day.

You borrow a car from a friend, grabbing a few necessities, you drive off.

Hobie watches you from the passenger seat, the sun bathes you in its light, giving you a halo of soft light around your head. He smiles tiredly, this could be it.

Once the two of you hit the outskirts of London, darkness wraps him in an embrace.

>239

Hobie opens his eyes.

They tried a train this time. Everything seems to be moving smoothly.

Until the train skids to a violent stop, derailing it. Bags and people start flying around. He tries to web them into place.

He grabs your body shielding you. The train lights shut off, bathing them in darkness while their bodies get thrashed around.

Hobie hears a harsh cracking sound.

The train finally stops, its emergency light turns on, he sees you in his arms bathed in the dim light. Why are your eyes closed?

Hobie feels something warm hit his hand, He lifts his hand away from the back of your head, gore covers his hand. Hot crimson seeps into his clothes.

Not again.

Why does he need to see this again?

Why?

Hobie weeps, as he cradles your body. He lifts his head towards nothing but at the same time looking at you.

"Why aren't you helping me?! Why are you just sitting there watching all of this-"

>240

Hobie opens his eyes. The blinding light from the early morning sun mixed with the smell of burning breakfast wakes him up instantly. He jumps off the bed running towards the smell.

>276

He hates that he's getting desensitized everytime you breathe your last.

But no matter how many times he changes some things, he will always try to save you.

Hobie's exhausted, he feels his mind get numb with every rotation.

He feels like he's watching himself, like a ghost haunting his own body.

>348

He's accepted it, after numerous times trying to get out, he accepts his fate.

Hobie convinces you to stay home and spend time with him, he doesn't tell you why, but by just looking at him, you know he needs you now more than ever. So you stay.

The rigmarole starts where he convinces you to remain home, Hobie keeps you close, you do the exact same things together until it's time for the reset.

>349

He does this over

>356

And over

>381

Again.

>391

He stares at your blue walls, was it always blue?

Your neighbour doesn't knock anymore.

>414

He notices things looking different, your once pristine oak table now looks old.

Your white lab coat is now a slight yellow.

Your kitchen ceiling is covered in soot.

What's happening?

>449

Hobie can't help but look back at you burning a hole on the side of his head with your stares.

"What is it, love?" His voice hoarse.

"You don't look too well Hobie, are you okay?" Concern fills your voice. He pretends this is the first time you've asked him that question.

"Of course I'm okay"

Liar.

"Shut up" He blurts out.

"It's just that you haven't smiled the entire day. I'm sorry, okay, I- I'll drop it" tears prick your eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't- fuck" he rubs his tired face.

"Please tell me what's bothering you" you sniff.

You're met with silence.

"You know I love you right?" You rub his arm, comforting him.

Those three words wake him up. He remembers now, his promise to you. But it comes with a harsh realization.

"I don't think I can save you"

He tells you everything, your deaths, every violent end, every pain that could've been prevented.

Every single cycle.

You look at him, tears threatening to spill out. "You've spent a hundred lifetimes with me?"

"I'm sorry for being selfish" he hugs you tightly, your body shaking. You finally let the tears fall. "I'm so fucking sorry"

You spend a moment in his arms, contemplating your own end.

"Hobie," you reluctantly pull away, "promise me something, okay?" He nods "promise me you'll let go?"

"We-I can keep trying"

"No, you have to stop. You need to go on without me" you cup his face "Don't let me stop you from moving forward" you kiss every inch of his face to soften the blow.

"I don't think I can," his eyes shine with unshed tears.

"Yes, you can, eventually" a sob breaks out of you "eventually you will, just don't you dare ever forget that I love you so much it hurts"

You duck your head to meet his eyes "promise me in the next cycle, don't tell me anything, and you can't convince me to stay with you the entire day, okay?" You wipe his tears with your thumb "you let it happen, just like the first time"

Tears flow out of you freely. He guides you to meet his lips one last time, memorizing every second of it. "I promise. Wait for me, yeah?"

"I'll wait for you no matter how long it takes"

Your alarm rings out.

>450

Hobie's eyes open. He jumps out of bed, turning off the stove before smoke could billow out. Hobie prepares your omelette for you.

He watches you eat happily. Hobie takes a mental picture of the scene.

He lets it happen, no matter how much it hurts his soul, but he promised you, so he lets you go.

You fall.

He fights Goblin until she can't fight him anymore.

Hobie wins, but your life is forfeit. Did he even win when he can't even fulfill the promise he made hundreds of rotations ago?

He dives after your body, he knows you're already gone the second your head hits the water.

Hobie places you on the same riverbank like he has done a hundred times before.

Hobie rubs his knuckles over your heart, he says his final goodbye. "I'll see you when I get there"

He hears sirens coming towards the riverbank, you'll be okay.

He hears the familiar bell.

Hobie swings back home to your flat. His knees give out from under him. He falls on your bed with a thud, sleep hits his exhausted body.

—

Hobie opens his eyes, your telephone rings endlessly in the living room. No burning smell, no hint of strawberry in the air.

He looks at your clock- 11:00 the new date mocking him in red numbers.

Hobie did it, he broke free but now he has to live in a world where you don't exist anymore. Your promise echoes in his ears like a mantra.

A/n: I've hc'd that Hobie would definitely find out he's in a time loop by the second reset lol. Hope you liked it! Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*the picture above is from pinterest*

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader #atsv x reader #time loop #time loop au #spider punk x you #hobie brown x you #tw death #tw violence #tw blood #fanfic #tw injury

[sednas]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

// second attempt at writing a whole fic and it sucks. pretty sure it's going to flop so I'll make a headcanon version because I liked this idea so much //

⠀ૈ☆ ft. rancher!toji x afab!reader

⠀ૈ☆ tw. strangers to lovers, softdom!toji, (unprotected) shower sex, slight breeding theme, toji calls reader sweetheart and baby, age gap (reader is in their early 20s as toji is in his late 30s)

⠀ૈ☆ 3k + words

⠀ૈ☆ irrelevant trigger warning: slow burn for a smut fic (they don't fuck right away), wholesome porn, rip omelet haters, domestic kinda vibe, george of the jungle reference, DON'T STAY THAT LONG IN THE SHOWER, big fluffy ending, and can you tell I have an obsession with toji's scar?

it’s when you find yourself walking in the middle of nowhere that you realize that you might have made a mistake. the light of the sun felt hot on your skin, a thin layer of sweat was covering your forehead and your feet hurt. you kept walking, cursing this guy who left you on the road as soon as he realized that he wasn’t going to have his way with you. the joys of hitchhiking, you said for yourself. maybe it was your fault, maybe you shouldn’t have left the city to start a new life, with only one bag with all your belongings, a bag that was stolen one morning before leaving a hotel. the funny thing was, you didn’t give a shit, some might call it youthful ardor, or misplaced recklessness, but you were ready to make a new start, and if that start had to be without your favorite sweater or a picture of your best friend, so be it. you only had your phone, without any network.

“fuck…” you quielty cursed, raising your eyes to see the sun decline, letting the dark slowly invade the horizon.

that’s when you saw him, through the last rays of sunlight, dark hair contrasting with the white dress of his horse, his wide shoulders hiding the light shining on your face. as he slowly came closer you realized how intimidating he was, his red shirt hugging his chest tightly, his muscled forearm casually holding on the horse’s reins, you took a few steps back out of instinct.

“a weird time for a walk.” he spoke, a warm and friendly voice rising out of his lungs as his horse stopped just a few inches away from you.

he smiled at you, the scar on the right side of his lips spreading on his stretched skin.

“I didn’t really have a choice…” you sighed, which made him raise his eyebrow, inviting you to keep going.

as you quickly explained your situation he slowly bent over his mount, putting his forearms on the saddle’s fork to take a closer look at you.

“mmmh…” he hummed at the end of your explanation, his green eyes scanning your face, making you slightly twitch.

then he held out his hand to you.

“there’s nothing but fields and grasslands for miles here, you can come to my place, there’s a phone, you could call a friend or someone to get you back to the city.”

you looked at his big hand reaching out for you, his palm was covered with small scars.

“I don't plan on going back there…”

this time he smirked, and his horse began to trample the ground.

“then you can sleep at my place tonight, and figure out what to do tomorrow morning.”

you hesitantly glanced back at his hand and he kept smiling, tilting his head to the side.

“are you scared of me sweetheart?”

“of course not!” you exclaimed, making him laugh, a deep, raspy sound.

you took his hand and he easily lifted you on the back of the horse, gently pulling on the reins.

“don’t be shy to hold onto me, I don't want you to fall.” he softly said, turning his head to look at you, your faces only a few inches apart.

maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all…

“take whatever you want in my closet sweetheart, I'll take your clothes to the washer.”

you felt your skin grow hot with the nickname and did your best to hide your flustered expression. you came out of the bathroom after showering, his black sweater floating around you, his gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low around your waist, you felt like a six years old trying on their parents’ clothes. as you entered the kitchen you were immediately welcomed by his dog happily jumping around your feet. the sound of crackling wood echoed through the room as toji was quietly cooking.

“hope you don’t mind soko jumping everywhere,” he said while smiling.

he raised his eyes to look at you, his green orbs lingering over your body fully covered by his clothes, even though at that moment you felt naked.

“that’s okay, she’s adorable.” you said, bending over to break eye contact with him and pet the dog, and you missed how toji smiled brightly at the sight.

“I hope you like omelets.” you heard him say, as he arrived with two plates.

you politely thanked him and you both started eating in silence. you couldn’t help but glance at him, eyes observing his features, burning with curiosity, dying to ask about him. he was probably sensing your excitement, smirking again while calmly eating his food.

“so, a new start huh?” he asked, referring to what you had told him earlier.

secretly thankful for him to have talked, you nodded.

“I believe there’s something, or someone, waiting for me, somewhere in this world, I want to find out.”

toji took his time, observing your face, smiling at the end of your sentence, you sounded so sincere, so willing to experience new things.

“...what about you, have you always lived here?” you quietly asked, praying this question won’t bother him.

he shook his head, took a mouthful of his food, and looked back at you again.

“no, I used to live in a city nearby, but after my divorce I started to have a gambling addiction, so I decided to leave. I needed to be somewhere quiet…”

he stopped, seeing the glint of sadness in your eyes. reaching out his hand he booped your nose, with a delicacy that you didn’t expect.

“hey don’t give me that look, I have soko, the other animals, and my son ‘Gumi comes to see me often. I like this life, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world.”

“but don’t you get lonely sometimes?”

you mentally cursed at yourself for asking this, what were you even trying to make him say?

his smirk came back on his face, as he slowly got up to clear the table.

“you got something you want to tell me sweetheart?” he asked in a playful voice, clearly seeing the embarrassment taking your whole face.

you quickly shook your head, getting up and taking the two empty plates in your hands.

“please let me do the dishes, I will feel bad otherwise.”

he smiled at the way you quickly changed the subject of conversation, nodding his head, but still heading to the sink where you were now standing. you started cleaning with careful hands, trying to ignore the presence of the tall man beside you. for a quick instant it felt like you have always lived here, you felt yourself at peace, like you had finally found a home. what was that strange feeling that kept growing in your chest?

“hey can you move a little please? I need to open this cupboard.”

you almost flinched, your eyes gazing down on toji in front of you, kneeling on the floor, facing your waist. you quickly moved, trying your best to look calm as he took out dog food, soko immediately coming behind you two with her tail happily wagging on each side.

you smiled, seeing toji give her a few scratches. it was weird. like you always belonged here.

you woke up in toji’s room, your ears having caught the clear ringing of bells, belonging to the cows you saw when you arrived yesterday’s evening. you rubbed your eyes while yawning, you haven’t slept this well in ages, during the night everything had been so quiet and so peaceful, you could only hear the gentle singing of a night owl and the distant sound of a cattle. you quickly made your way to the bathroom, and then to the empty kitchen, soko immediately jumping around your feet, affectionately licking your hands.

“hey, where’s your dad?” you asked in a light tone.

the dog’s ears perked up, and she ran toward the open door, waiting for you outside, making sure you were following her. you smiled at her intelligence, stepping outside, as you took a few seconds to get used to the bright sunlight. turning your head to look for soko, you saw instead toji. he was with a dozen horses, all of them happily running around him as he was brushing the mane of one of them. soko along your side, you stepped closer to the fence, a curious horse with a caramel coat trotted towards you, carefully getting its face closer to yours to smell you.

“he likes you.”

you immediately smiled, turning your head to look at toji, his green eyes seemed to shine through the bright light of the sun.

“thank you for letting me sleep in your room.” you thanked him again, gently placing your hand on the top of the horse’s head.

“don’t feel bad about it sweetheart, I told you I could sleep just fine in my son’s bedroom.”

his eyes fell once again on your body, still wearing his clothes.

“I hope you don’t mind keeping my clothes for now, yours are still drying outside.”

“it’s okay, I like wearing your clothes.”

your eyes widened, realizing what you just said, but toji only smiled.

“could you… give me a hand with something?”

and that’s how you spent the whole day helping toji with the ranch, giving food to the cows and the chickens, brushing the mane of the horses and making sure they were all in good health, collecting eggs, religiously listening to toji’s orders and him smiling at your seriousness and obedience. by the end of the day, you were wearing an oversized tank top definitely too big for you while toji was shirtless. you two were sweating but only you were exhausted, the glint of tiredness in toji’s eyes was unnoticeable.

“how can you not be tired?” you asked as you stretched your limbs with a drained sigh, resting against the kitchen’s counter.

“I’m just used to it. as long as I can take a shower at the end of the day it’s fine.” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck, exposing his huge forearm that was basically the same size as your head.

“oh I’m dreaming of a shower right now.”

a dangerous smirk appeared on the corner of his lips, extending his arms as he came closer.

“first give me a hug.”

“no way! we’re both too sweaty!” you exclaimed, trying to escape from his embrace.

but he was quicker than you, circling his big arms around you to pull you against him. of course you didn’t mind the sweat, you were just so embarrassed being this close to him. his chest was the only thing you could see, his earthy, natural scent was all over you, his skin felt hot against yours, for a few seconds you felt completely safe, like you were only two in this world. noticing how you weren’t moving once he moved away a little he kept you in his arms, observing your face.

“you’re really pretty, you know that?”

because of the proximity and the compliment you couldn’t hold his gaze, shyly looking away from him. you heard his soft laugh, making his whole chest vibrate. you mumbled a few words, and you were sure he could feel your heart racing against him.

“what was that sweetheart?” he asked, gently taking your chin between his fingers.

ignoring the heat taking over your face you hold his gaze.

“can you kiss me please?”

he raised an eyebrow.

“are you sure?” he asked, still holding your face.

once he saw you nodding your head his confident smile came back on his face, bringing his lips against yours to pull you into a sweet kiss. he was taking his time tasting you, his tongue slowly making its way over your own as his teeth softly grazed your lower lip. he bring you even closer, his arms circling around your waist. you found yourself falling into his arms, feeling like you have waited for this all of your life.

“you can still take that shower you know.” he whispered into your ear, sending shivers through your whole body.

“only if you come with me.”

his scar stretched through his smile, taking your hand to take you to the bathroom.

“I might have lied about your clothes just to see you wear mine longer.” he said in a light tone, his hands slipping under his shirt, gripping your waist.

your fingers worked fast to unbutton his jeans as he removed your shirt and then your pants. you kissed as you both entered in the shower, turning on the water as warm drops started running over your naked skins. toji’s mouth was all over you, your lips, your cheeks, your neck and collarbones, you could barely breathe, holding onto him as one of your hands was in his dark hair, slightly pulling it every time his mouth was touching a sweet spot.

“you’re such a sensitive thing, sweetheart, ‘makes me wonder how you would react if I touched you right here…”

you gasped, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders when you felt his fingers rubbing your pussy. he found your clit instantly, mercilessly tracing circles around it with expert hands, making you tremble under his hold while he kept kissing your neck.

“let it go baby, I’ve got you.” he softly said under your ear.

it seemed like his voice resonated in your mind, coming undone just as he asked you to. he kissed you through your orgasm, only stopping rubbing circles on your clit when you started trembling.

“you’re so cute.” he smiled, kissing your cheek, pressing his body against yours until you mewled, feeling his hard cock against your thigh. “see what you’re doing to me, feel how hard I am for you?”

his tone was dominating, but his big hands still felt soft on you, like he was afraid to break you between his fingers. he was already loving how compliant you were, he could easily take the lead without being harsh on you. being harsh on you was the last thing he wanted, he found you so soft and sweet since the very first second he laid his eyes on you. there was something about you that seemed so sincere, so carefree, making him want to protect you.

and fuck you.

he lifted your leg, your pussy now on full display for his green eyes, dripping with your cum and water.

“hold on to me sweetheart, I’ll go slowly okay?” he whispered with a reassuring smile, grazing the tip of your nose with his own in a comforting way.

a small moan left your lips once he pushed himself into you, he was so big, hitting all the right spots effortlessly. he groaned, feeling you tighten as soon as he started moving, smirking when he saw your eyes rolling back.

“already going dumb on my cock baby? fuck-” he cursed, feeling himself twitch inside you.

you felt too good, letting his head fall on his shoulder, droplets of water following his movement, he moaned loudly, his hands firmly holding your waist, lifting it a little to thrust deeper in your warm cunt. you could only hold your arms tight around his neck, your whole body was jolting with pleasure, your mind was blank, unable to form a single coherent thought, you never felt anything like this in your life.

“to-toji…” you tried to speak, your words turning into moans every time his cock rubbed your insides.

“I know sweetheart, me too.” toji answered in a low grunt, feeling himself coming closer and closer from his release.

his eyes fell on your half-lidded ones and he swiped off the wet hair out of your forehead with one hand as his other one met once again your clit, drawing little circles around it.

“inside… please.” you pleaded with tears in your eyes, crying from the intense pleasure.

toji cursed, his thrusts becoming messier.

“shit- cum with me baby, wanna feel that tight pussy around me while I stuff you full of my cum.”

his voice got more desperate, his moans cut out when you pulled him for a kiss, as you both came, whines and cries muffled by your two pairs of lips.

“fuck…” he finally breathed out, chest waving heavily in the air as you both slowly came down from your high.

you quietly whined and he pulled out, cum immediately leaking out of you, falling on the shower’s floor. exhausted, you felt your body slowly falling down.

“hey there sweetheart.” the dark-haired man said, catching your body against his own, placing his hands behind your back to make sure you weren’t going to fall.

he started rubbing your skin, massaging your sore muscles under the warm water as you sighed, letting your smaller hands do the same on him.

“it was… so good.” toji dreamily said, running his hand through your hair.

you both started laughing at his disbelief tone, the two sounds mixing together and invading the small place. after a few seconds you both fell silent once again, toji carefully washed your hair as you were rubbing his collarbones with his body wash. it smelled like mint and rain, something earthy, green, like his eyes, and as he affectionately gazed back at you, you told yourself this whole new start wasn’t a bad idea after all.

a lovely reminder that reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ♡

jjk masterlist

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk imagines #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro headcanons #toji headcanons #toji hcs #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #☁️. my writings! #🎀. jujutsu kaisen #🌝. unholy hours

[demondamage]

I want a whumpee who is fucking bulked, ripped, and could fold whumper like a fucking omelet in a fair fight.

Because whumper knows this, and they know to make sure whumpee never gets that fair fight. They know how long their chain is, and how to stay just one step back, taunting whumpee the whole time.

#This post is made by a strong guy who would like to be whumped #please and thank you #twink bodies are great but so are big bodies and i need to draw more because i love them #whump #whump prompt

[iriswestallenn]

Something something Richie asking permission from Carmy, Nat, and Syd to frame the Let It Rip note

Something something Syd asking Nat if she can cook for her and made her a fire omelet.

That's family idk

#the bear #the bear spoilers #carmy x sydney #talk to theeeemm idk #i'll eventually stop making these carm/syd posts and talk about my other fav richie cause he brought it this season #but for now... we all seeing the vision? right exactly

[fantasylandbitch]

Summary: You stay the night at Sam and Tara’s apartment where Sam gives you her spare clothes to put on before bed when a sudden nightmare strikes you both causing you and Sam to become closer before Ghost Face makes his presents known.

Warnings: Long Story, Fluff, 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5 Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5  Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 (Chapter 9 Coming Soon)

Later that night, Sam gives you one of her bigger T-shirts and boxers from her bedroom before you take a shower because she was going to clean your clothes for you in the morning. Then you meet her in the living room looking around, "Everyone went to bed early?" you ask.

Sam nods "Late actually, I can imagine how they must be feeling after partying earlier" she says before looking up at you and taking a moment to appreciate just how good you look in her clothes before distracting herself with a pillow she was setting up for you on the couch. "I'm surprised you aren't sleeping in Tara's room," Sam says not looking up at you

And you look at her with a questioning look thinking about it, "I guess I didn't want to interrupt her sleep by snoring if I’m super exhausted," you say rubbing your neck. For some reason, your answer causes her to laugh and you giggle in response, as her laugh which is rare to hear is like music to your ears "What's so funny?" you ask as you walk around the couch to move the coffee table just a little bit away from the couch with Samantha's help.

"I just think it was funny that you would worry about that considering that she snores like a man sometimes" Now it was your turn to laugh and Sam had to cover your mouth with her hand and she chuckled putting her pointer finger over her lips as you both looked towards the bedrooms before looking back at each other.

Then she takes her hand away from your mouth, "You don't think they heard us do you?" you ask and Sam shakes her head.

"Nope, I think we're in the clear" she says before looking at her bedroom door with a look you can't quite place but you make a suggestion.

"I know that you guys pay the rent here, however, you are more than welcomed to sleep on the couch while I sleep on the floor." You say making an educated guess as to why she might be hesitant but Sam turns to you tiredly dodging your suggestion.

"I'm going to head to bed y/n so drive safely in the morning okay?" and you nod slowly realizing that being concerned for the dark wasn't the case with Sam, so you didn't press.

"Thank you, Sam, you too.." you say before covering your face knowing she doesn't have a car "I mean I hope you get to and from home safely as well" you say hearing her giggle

"Night, y/n" she says as you watch her disappear into her bedroom. 

And before you go to sleep you make sure that the front door and windows are locked ensuring everyone's safety, and when you are satisfied you hit the hay, getting comfortable on the couch and pulling the blanket over your shoulders as the sounds of the big apple slowly lull you to sleep.

The next day you started your morning routine. You went to the bathroom and then headed to the kitchen to make an egg omelet for yourself before deciding to make omelets for everyone in the apartment."Breakfast is ready guys!" you say allowed but you don't hear anyone, no movement from Sam's room, music from Taras, laughing from Anika and Mindy's room, a few jokes from Chad and Ethan's room, nor a creak from Quinn's room. "Hello?" you say as you went to check up on your friends, taking a deep breath as you did so, opening every one of their bedroom doors only to find their rooms empty, not a single soul. Then you hear a blood-curdling scream rip through the apartment causing you to cover your ears before trying to find the source of the scream, when you discover a mask in front of the bathroom door. When you bent down to pick up the mask the screams suddenly stopped and it was silent again, looking closer at the mask you realize it was Ghost Face but you noticed something was off about it, so you put your hand in the mask to find that someone had carved a three in the upper part of the mask. Then you felt a presence behind you but you couldn't move, almost as if you were paralyzed, unable to defend yourself as you feel this person embrace you while extending their arm revealing that they had a knife, and before you could scream you were sta- 

Then you wake up in a cold sweat and panting like you've run a mile while your eyes darted across the room, checking for any threats before reaching for your throat when you feel pain there, so you get up to put on the kitchen light, and using the reflection from the window as it was still night out. When you look closer you notice that you have a cut on the left side of your neck and you know it's not super deep but it's deep enough to leave a light scar so you get a napkin to soak in the sink before applying it to your neck. The feeling of the soaked napkin felt cool on your skin as it was a nice distraction from the pain, to distract yourself further, you look at the time and it reads 2:50 am making you take a deep breath in as you tried to figure out how you got grazed in the first place before it was cut short when you heard a noise coming from one of the bedrooms, so you went to investigate checking in on everyone. For the most part, everyone was asleep, and knowing that they were safe lessons that fear that hung over you as you turned the kitchen lights off, but before you can fully relax you hear the sound again, and it leads you to Sam's room.

When you opened her bedroom door you found her trembling "Sam?" you called out but she didn't answer so you left her door ajar so you can get a better look at her. "Sam?" you called again and when you got closer she tried to tackle you to the floor "Sam!" you yell as you push her off of you before straddling her so you can restrain her wrists, so she wouldn’t hurt you. That was when you noticed that she’s having a night terror her eyelids were locked while her eyes moved underneath them “Samantha” you whisper calmly before releasing one of her wrists so you can rub the back of your knuckles against her cheek to coax her out of her dream and it works. Her movements cease and you were almost afraid to say her name again until you hear her start to cry. The mere sound of Sam crying broke your heart, causing you to loosen your grip on her other wrist rather quickly before bringing her up for a hug which Sam reciprocated. While you're hugging Sam on the floor you feel her tears lightly soak the shirt she gave you, so you gave her your shoulder to lean on as you kissed the top of her head "Shhh Sam I've got you, I won't let anything to happen you" you say while hugging her tightly and rocking Sam back and forth while she's holding onto you like she was going to disappear. “Shhh” you coo as you went from rocking back and forth before coming to a halt so you can slide your fingers through her hair leaning the side of your head against hers in an attempt to calm her down further, giving her room for silence and allowing yourselves to listen to the sounds around you. This causes Sam to take in every sound that she could possibly pick up, like the sound of the cars driving by, the light footsteps of people walking, the light hum of a lamp post not far from the building, your heartbeat, and the sound of you breathing. As Sam calmed down you slowly tried to pull yourself away from her to give her space, but she was hesitant to let you go as she now had her arms wrapped around your waist in an attempt to hide the shame and embarrassment that she was feeling, until you said something to her. “It’s okay Sam, I’m just going to get up so I can bring you to your bed” you say to her softly as Sam nods as you run your fingers through her hair again for reassurance and as you both get up from the ground you say to Sam “Give me a second to fix your bed,” before fixing her bed while Sam stood behind you. When you are done, you turn around to get her not expecting her to be so close as you look up at her, noticing how the moon lit up her bedroom highlighting Sam's features showing you the bags under her eyes, her tear-stained cheeks, and a faraway look in her gaze as she looks down at you, so you brought your hands up to cup her face bringing her back to you while rubbing her cheeks with the pads of your thumbs before helping her get back into her bed and before laying beside her as she finally sleeps comfortably while you stay awake not being able to go back to sleep.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5 Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5  Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 (Chapter 9 Coming Soon)

Hey guys this chapter is going to be broken up into two parts, so stay tuned while I figure out how I can punch the Tumblr word count in the face.

Scream 6 : A Love so Understanding Playlist

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter imagine #a fantasylandbitch presents a story #a fantasylandbitch presents a story: scream6 #core 4 #sam carpenter x y/n #autistic!reader

[sydneys-adamu]

sydney is extremely thoughtful when it comes to food. that omelet was *so* thoughtful and it’s something that just pours out of her she doesn’t have to think about it and it doesn’t even have to be perfect bc of course natalie isn’t expecting that but it just is bc it was made entirely out of love. words are difficult for sydney but food isn’t and it’s not just about how objectively good at it she is, it’s *her heart*, the thing she values, it’s how she communicates with people, it’s her tether to her existence. (@eatandsleepwell did some gorgeous meta on this pls read)

and carmen sees this, not only does he see this, he attaches the word “love” to it and doesn’t leave room for question. the first person besides her to really say it, this is who she is, this is the foundation that makes up her soul, what makes her happy. and it’s such an unavoidable truth that sydney doesn’t know what to do but shrug and deflect. he wants that too, he wants to learn how to be that in love with happiness, with acts of service, prioritize others without feeling like it’s ripping up half of his very being. and he doesn’t even realize that by doing this with sydney from the minute she walked in the beef she was asking this man to show her how to love deeper. she admired him, she knew who he was but past that she stayed because she wanted him to show her how to make her love, her food, as beautiful as it can be.

#she! is! so! special! to! me! #the most earnest character on plant earth!! #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #sydcarmy #the bear

[lale-txt]

💝 One Piece women and how they would realize they have a big fat crush on you (PART 7)

[part 1 w/ Law, Zoro, Shanks & Smoker]

[part 2 w/ Sanji, Sabo, Kid & Rayleigh]

[part 3 w/ Ace, Izou, Marco & Thatch]

[part 4 w/ King, Yamato, Denjiro & Who’s Who]

[part 5 w/ Roger, Luffy, Rosinante & Killer]

[part 6 w/ Usopp, Crocodile, Katakuri & Kaido]

a/n: casually abandones a favorite series of mine for 8 months and returns to finally offer you women ♡

Shakky

Shakky has been running her bar for over 40 years and knows her regulars well… and there’s one that really sparked her interest

She catches herself giving you drinks on the house, despite her bar being called Shakky’s Rip-off Bar

And you gladly accept them, taking every chance to spend some more time with her before you walk home alone, thinking about the lipstick marks on the cigarettes you shared with her 

At night Shakky won’t be able to stop talking about you, telling Rayleigh every little detail she noticed about you that day, from the way your fingertips trace the shape of the glass to how her name sounds out of your mouth 

Rayleigh listens and just smirks, patiently waiting until she’ll notice herself what he saw the moment you walked into the bar for the first time

The realization hits her slowly, but then all at once

She rolls over to her side, a hand on Rayleigh’s chest as he watches her with an amused smile 

“I have a crush, don’t I?” - “Massive one.” - “Oh… it’s been a while.”

The following night the lipstick marks won’t just stick to the cigarette but will trail down your neck and further below…

Robin

Robin is very protective of her heart and doesn’t give it away that easily

Yet she still feels you tugging on her heart strings the moment you and her meet for the first time

Calm. That’s how you make her feel. Like there’s no obstacle too big to handle, the quiet confidence that things are going to be okay, maybe great even

She will actively seek your presence, whether it’s when you’re exploring a new island or just reading in the ship’s library together. Just being close to you is enough to make her heart feel warm and fuzzy

Of all the books she read about love and the myths of it, nothing could have prepared her for the feeling of actually being in love

Whenever you cross her mind (which is often) Robin catches herself smiling, maybe darting stolen glances at you across the room 

Don’t be surprised when she confesses in the midst of a battle or in the eye of a storm – moments when she feels the most alive, her heart drumming in synch with yours

And when she finally wraps her arms around you, listen closely, because the there’s love dripping from every syllable when she whispers out your name

Perona

The Ghost Princess isn’t one to hide her true feelings. She can be very blunt at times but when she’s around you? Watch her get flustered

Okay, you’re cute. So what? Being cute alone doesn’t grant you access to her heart, it’s what she’s telling herself over and over again. But it’s not just that…

Perona feels herself drawn to the sound of your laughter and wanting to be in the same room with you all the time

She finds herself setting out a plate for you at the breakfast table and drawing sweet little faces on your omelet, hoping you will compliment her 

And when you do she’ll be blushing from ear to ear, flying off as if it was nothing, but she can feel her heart racing long afterwards

It’s the night when you fix one of her plushies, stitching it up carefully, holding it so tenderly in your hands, that the realization hits her 

So this is love. Sitting together in front of the fireplace, little acts of devotion, your gaze seeking hers and all the unspoken words falling out of her mouth before her lips meet yours, desperately almost, begging to love and be loved in return

Black Maria

GIANT WOMAN… 

The way to Black Maria’s heart is plastered with spiderwebs, careful or you’ll get lost and eaten alive maybe

Rumors say that those who foolishly tried never saw the broad daylight again 

And still, she can’t help but admire your bravery, how you strut around completely unbothered by her power and the myths people whisper about her

It’s as if you had laid your eyes on her and your heart decided, yup, that’s her, she’s the one

At first she doesn’t think too much about it, but is jusr excited about a new toy to play with for a while. But the way you lay down beside her and play with her hair, running through your fingers like liquid gold… she can feel her heart soften

Almost as if it is sighing in relief that someone really sees her, not just her outer shell

It’s when your kisses start tasting sweeter than any sake that she realizes you might be more than just a pastime but someone she could let into her heart

She’ll bite still – if you’re into that, hehe. Otherwise prepare to be plastered in kisses as you sit in her lap, her lips close to your ear as she whispers sweet nothings in a low and raspy voice, something about forever even…

#one piece x reader #shakky #nico robin #black maria #perona #shakky x reader #nico robin x reader #black maria x reader #perona x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece headcanons #one piece x you

[ragingbookdragon]

You Have A Mind To Keep Me Quiet, And Although You Can Try

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence and Blood, Mature Themes

Author's Note: Lots of people are telling me they love Spades. So what does that mean? More Spades, obviously. -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The plan in Syria goes off without a single hitch—surprisingly—and Ghost can feel Spades’ smirk from the other side of the helo as they watch the power plant literally implode on itself and paints the night sky in a hail of red and orange. The success only solidifies her position on the 141, especially when Price and Laswell sit down and exchange the various secrets Spades has also included—brownie points, she’d simply said.

Ghost is annoyed. Beyond annoyed because now he can’t kill her and be completely justified in it, and Spades knows it too. And anyone around would just think Ghost had it completely out for her, but anyone else who knew Spades as well as Ghost would realize that she was absolutely doing half of this just because she knows it pisses him off.

And Ghost wanted to rip his hair out when the base started to transform into some lavish mansion. It started with little things, new gear, new weapons, new toys for everyone to play with. But then some of the recruits started talking about new instructors being involved in training, and Ghost hadn’t been on his rotation for overseeing training yet this week, but he knew he was going to be greeted with either non-military trainers or ex-military. He didn’t know which was worse.

The final straw was when Ghost had walked into the mess with Soap and they both stopped dead in their tracks at the various chef stations set up around, and the line of recruits happily awaiting gourmet food. Soap had no issues as he was already headed for the omelet bar, but Ghost was prickling with anger as he saw Spades surrounded by a table of recruits fawning over her.

And they were fawning.

But only because she was wrapped up in a silk robe and batting her expensive eyelashes at them, no doubt gathering information with subtle questions and quips. Those idiot recruits had no idea she was playing them like fiddles and soaking up every ounce of information they gave her with every smile.

Ghost is stomping over to her before he can even stop himself, yanking the recruit in front of her across the table up by his collar, planting his hands in the empty spot as he leans forward and glares at her.

Spades blinks and smiles at him. “Good morning, Lieutenant Riley.”

“This stops now,” he warns.

“What does?” she asks, cocking her head to the side. “All I’ve done is raised morale? Wouldn’t you agree, gentlemen?” half of them are too afraid to speak and so they all nod. “All work and no play makes dull boys, Simon, don’t you know that?”

And that’s what sets his kerosene on fire.

Lieutenant Riley is no longer able to come to the phone right now.

But Ghost is.

He’s snarling at her from behind his mask, grabbing her by the front of her robe as he hauls her up to hang nose to nose with him. “I’m not playing around anymore, Spades.”

Her eyes are hooded in a way he’s never seen before and for a split second, for the first time in his life post joining the 141, Ghost falters; there’s danger dripping like venom in her voice as she calmly states, “You have all of three seconds to put me down before I show you the consequences of your actions. One.”

It’s not a recommendation. It’s an order. One not to be disobeyed. And Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley has never taken orders from someone not in the military, but at that moment, he’s wondering if he probably should.

He decides to ignore the warning bells going off in his head and gripes, “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Two.” Her eyes slit.

“You don’t get to come in here—”

The expression on her face flashes into one he’s never seen before, and he never wants to see again. “Three.”

“You have everyone else fooled, but I kn—”

Ghost cuts off with a pained growl and the recruits around him gasp and recoil as Spades shoves the long-pronged fork from her plate into the side of his ribs where she knows it’s going to prick into his lungs from the proximity. They’re glaring one another down as she grasps the fork and twists it violently. Ghost’s hands shake from the pain ebbing from his side.

“Put. Me. Down. Now.” She warns and he gently lowers her down so she’s on her knees on the table.

Spades yanks the fork out, stares at it as it drips blood down her wrist before meeting his gaze, tongue darting out to trail up her skin to the metal of the fork. It’s a threat in and of itself that she’ll be out for his blood if he ever tries something like this again, but God if it doesn’t make something deep in his stomach twist and Ghost, in mortification, realizes he wants to fuck her senseless.

It's not hate he feels for Spades.

It’s lust.

Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley is standing in the middle of the goddamn mess with everyone’s eyes on him and he’s in absolute abasement as they all come to the exact same fucking conclusion he just has.

He remembers the fight they had in Hungary one time, when he accused her of sleeping with officials to get her way. Oh, don’t worry, Simon, better men than these corrupts have hit their knees for me. Like you will one day. And bigger ones have died.

Oh, God, he’s come full circle with this witch of an assassin and he didn’t even realize it.

“Pleasure as always, Ghost,” she thanks with that smirk, and keeps her eyes on his as she fixes the robe that has opened and bared her body to all. “Would you like me to have something sent to your quarters after you visit medical?”

He says nothing and turns on his heel, somehow managing to save his face as he stalks off towards the doors. Everyone’s still staring as she still kneels on the table and a man in a white outfit appears in her peripheral.

“Une autre fourchette, madame?”

She takes it from him and replies, “Merci, Jacques. Faites-moi une faveur et préparez un ragoût copieux pour notre fantôme résident, voulez-vous? Il en aura besoin pour se rétablir.”

“Tout de suite, madame,” he answers with a bow and disappears into the kitchen.

She turns to the recruit who has been in his seat the entire time. “König, would you be a dear and help me off the table? It’s unladylike to crawl on furniture in front of men.”

The Austrian mentally flounders, and she can tell as he hesitantly rises to feet and with one hand, wraps around her back, the other under her knees. He lifts her with ease and sets her down on the floor, subconsciously smoothing out the robe along her body.

“Danke, mein Schatz,” she smiles and he makes gestures with his hands before he settles on a curt nod and returns to his seat, no doubt flustered under the hood he wears. Soap has now gotten his food by now and has been standing and watching with wide eyes; she smiles at him. “Good morning, Sergeant. Take my seat, why don’t you? I’ve other business to attend to at the time.”

After seeing what she just did to Ghost, Soap is in no position to ever argue with her and nods frantically, sitting down. Everyone watches as she follows the same path Ghost took, but her expression is rather pleased as she hums lowly under her breath. The two soldiers look at one another, share something between them before going back to their food—there’s no way in hell they’re gonna open that can of worms at seven A.M.

It's only when Price opens the doors and stares straight at Soap that his shoulders drop and he groans, “Aw, I didnae even do anythin’!”

“My office. Now, Soap.”

#simon riley imagines #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader imagine #simon riley x reader imagines #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost imagines #ghost imagine #ghost x reader imagine #ghost x reader imagines #ghost x reader #ghost #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap #cod imagines #cod imagine #cod #call of duty imagines #call of duty imagine #call of duty #mw2 imagines #mw2 imagine #mw2

[boltupbitches]

Kiss it Better - Jimmy Garoppolo (fluff)

Jimmy felt the bed shift as he lay there. It had been over a week since his foot surgery and it had been a hell of a time recovering from it. Once the anesthetic wore off and the initial pain medication given to him at the hospital, he was in agony.

He was thankful his fiance was a registered nurse who took time off to help him at home in his recovery, especially given how private he wanted to be in his recovery. It was bad enough the media was speculating his downfall with the Raiders before he even had a chance to step on the field.

He felt her lean down over him and press a kiss to his cheek. He pouted slightly, knowing it was time for him to get up and take his meds. The same meds that gave him a killer stomach ache the first few days on them - combined with the post-anaesthetic reaction he had. Thankfully, his fiance realized right away that he needed an anti-nausea pill to help him deal with adjusting.

“Baby, I got your medicine and a yogurt to take it with. Also, I made your breakfast. I’ll bring it up to you.” 

He shifted and sat up with her support, wincing at the barest of moments sending pain down his leg and into his foot. He looked at the contraption his foot was in and wanted to cry at the sight of it. It fucking sucked.

It seemed like no matter how much time he put into playing and recovery, he was constantly getting injured. He heard and read the comments from fans, sports analysts, ‘journalists’, and even his former coaches at the 49ers. After the debacle last year with Shanahan insulting him, he couldn’t help but feel a pit in his stomach at the idea of his new head coach getting on his ass.

What started as a good relationship in the Bay turned sour at the end. His teammates supported him, and poor Lance was stuck in the middle of the shift, not having a say in replacing him. Then, Lance got injured and Purdy had to step in.

He remembered feeling many days of dread and disappointment when his foot got broken while playing. His fiance took time off - thankfully working at a practice that was supportive and friendly with the soon-to-be Mrs. and Mr. Garoppolo - and cared for him. His mother had flown down from Chicago as well to help out.

When all was said and done, he felt a mix of relief and sadness at leaving the 49ers organization. A place he considered his home and family the last few years. He made amazing friends and connections with so many. He even met his fiance while running a kids camp (she was there with her nephew). 

Yet, as he laid in bed, observing his foot between bites of yogurt, he couldn’t help but want to cry. It was just fucked how his luck was these last few seasons.

His fiance came back in moments later, carrying a food tray with an assortment of delicious breakfast food. He could see a southern omelet, fresh sliced fruit, and bacon on it. Next to it was a large water bottle of iced water, filled up to the 8am line. ‘You should drink 8 8-ounce glasses of water a day. This water bottle will help you keep track.’ She told him once.

She was meticulous in her care and Jimmy knew she was also the type of nurse who would rip you a new one for not following instructions.

He was eating silently as she took a seat in bed next to him, her smoothie pull looking just as appetizing. He leaned over slightly and said, “Can I have a bite?”

She smiled at him and rolled her eyes playfully. “Don’t you have an entire plate of food in front of you, Jimmy?”

“Yeah, but yours look just as good.” He said back.

“Hmm..” She pretended to think about it before lifting a spoonful up to him. She brought it to his lips and just as he leaned in for a bite, she pulled the spoon back quickly and stuck it in her mouth instead, making a loud and exaggerated, “hmmmm” sound. 

Jimmy stared at her in mock outrage, swatting her thigh, “That was cold, babe. Just cold and cruel.”

“It was tasty though.” She responded cheekily. She held up another spoonful, “Forreal this time, here, try a bite.”

He did so and just as he was taking a bite, he somehow managed to bite his lip when chewing up the berries. “Fuck… I bet my fucking lip.” He groaned, touching the spot and hoping it wasn’t bleeding. “How the fuck did I do that?”

His fiance giggled at him and responded, “Because you’re impatient. I swear, James..” She sat her bowl down on the nightstand next to her and gently crawled closer to him, taking his face in her hands and inspecting his lip. “It’s not too bad. Just a bit swollen and red. You’ll live.”

“It hurts,” He pouted.

“Want me to kiss it better?” She teased.

He pretended to think about it before nodding.

She giggled and leaned in to press her lips to his. “I love you, you silly manchild.”

“I love you too, my perfectionist soon-to-be wife.”

They looked at each other with big smiles, just happy to be with one another after the chaotic last few years they experienced. One thing Jimmy knew for certain, a kiss from her was a kiss that made everything better.

#jimmy garoppolo #jimmy g #jimmy garoppolo fanfiction #jimmy garoppolo imagine #jimmy garoppolo one shot #jimmy garoppolo fanfic #jimmy garoppolo imagines

[posebean]

woe. more rinky. call it. rinkygaki (like rakugaki. haha get it haha-)

notes hc and some context in readmore

1st not in order but u can probably associate which one is with which doodle -all the foxes/ hampter stuff are fantasyau stuffs. rinne turns niki into a hamster and carries him around. niki doesnt know the spell to turn back and is an angry hamster in response -haha. they're holding. primroses and honeysuckle. and niki has his eyes closed while rinne has one open. watching niki. haha. -niki comforting a sad rinne-kun. rinne's sad that his tamagotchi hamster that he named niki died from old age. rip niki the hamster -small rinkys eating ozoni for newyears. rinne pulled on the mochi and nikis going mogumogumogumogumogumogumogumogu -kissy -rinne watching his wife's recorded live. whipped 2nd 17/14 they're out getting groceries and rinne gets curious about purikura machine. theres 3 photos first one is blurry and rinne is like still adjusting stuff while the photo is being taken LMAO . second one they settle down and niki is doing peace signs. rinne doesnt know what a peace sign is and is doing the number three. third one they're trying to do a heart but cuz niki is too short its more of a circle// they both get copies and niki keeps it in his wallet while rinne has his safe with his other important things stored back at niki's apartment; (this ones courtesy of sana) rinne steals niki's wallet to look at it - he uses it as a goodluck charm doesn't take money out just brings it with him to the slots

3rd (also courtesy mostly to sana) top: watching a cheesy romance movie where the couple are having the grossest messiest (premarital) makeout session and rinne's watching with a completely straight face until niki turns to him and opens his mouth and rinne instantly says "no" and turns bright red. bottom: they have a tortilla blanket. they play around in it. both have their turn . rinne is squirming around trying to escape as niki covers him in kisses 4th top: niki makes bentos for all the bees. sometimes he leaves messages for rinne-kun. like this omelet with a message to give him back his wallet. rinne only sees it and is happy cuz his wife is still writing messages for him on his bento. niki is not amused and wants his wallet back

bottom: sappy in the kitchen. dont distract the chef the soup is going to over-boil... small rinkys asleep. both having very different dreams. poor rinne-kun thinks a dog broke into the apartment or something

#enstars #bean art #rinniki #rinky #bean doodle