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aftermathing · 27 days

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I'm like. spiraling.

My body hurts and it's falling apart and there's nothing wrong with it and there's no way to fix it. I'll never be able to have a normal job again. I can barely stand how am I supposed to finish college. I need help and I keep asking people to help me and that makes them uncomfortable and I'm asking too much of them. I say there is no food in my house. They say why don't you go buy food. I say I'm too disabled to drive. They say oof lol. How does oof help me. How are you not worried about me. How when I say I haven't bought food in a week or washed my clothes in a year people respond omg lol and not holy shit are you okay do you need help how are you alive. Not to be lazy or anything but I would actually literally kill for someone to hold me and say it's okay you don't have to do this alone anymore I'm going to help you. I would commit unspeakable acts of violence for someone to offer to drive me to the store. Once you're disabled you're trash you can't contribute to society just let yourself decay. I make everyone uncomfortable by just existing as myself and I ruin every event by either being visibly in pain and pulling an ugly face because my legs are about to give out or by not going because my spine is broken and I can't leave my bed. My family won't help me they don't believe me I'm not allowed to flinch or look like I'm in pain because my face is ugly when I'm in pain and I'm just faking it to get out of doing anything at all. I don't have a single support system or way to survive this shit. I'm in so much pain constantly there's not even a word for it because I can't just say it hurts nobody takes me seriously or understands just how bad it hurts. I can't say it's like a knife in my spine that sounds so fucking fake. It's like a knife in my spine and every tiny cell that moves hurts it because it's a fucking blade stuck between my bones. It's cutting and mangling my skin and muscles and everyone is like why don't you just stop having a knife in your back and the doctors say you do not have avknifevin your back and my parents say everyone has a knife in their back and you're just pretending it hurts and being lazy because you hate me. How am I still alive why am I still alive why does it just keep getting worse

#There's actually no reason for me to exist and I'm never going to get better or get help and no one will ever understand #I feel so useless and I will never be as good as my peers #Even my disabled peers live and handle themselves and manage their symptoms better than I can #I'm like not okay for real my brain is Fucked fucked #Shit like eating and pissing have become a fucking reward for me I'm not allowed to do it if I've been bad #I say good. you sit there and you hurt and you think about what you did and you think about this next time you want to act like a baby #But punishment doesn't even fucking work on me nothing works!!!!!!!!#I just like having a real tangible way to prove I can feel and I'm not making my pain up #I'm such a fucking toddler I expect to be fed with a spoon and reminded to use the potty and told when I need to take a nap #I need to be told how to shower properly and the right way to clean my house and the normal way to speak to people or think with my brain #Why am I like this. Why when I start to get comfortable with someone I pretend I'm a baby or a dog #Nobody thinks this way. What the fuck is wrong with you #Why can't I be a human. Why do I want to bark and bite people. Why does it hurt to touch people like a person would #There isn't a single normal thing about me. I'm so fucked up and awful and gross I literally need to be put down

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oneforthemunny · 4 months

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break the ice |hockey!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a scheduling mishap leads you and eddie to meet. or how you and hockey!eddie's story begins lol.

contains: eddie au. fluff. that's it. happy one year!

The hiss of the puck gliding over the ice, skittering into the goal, skates whizzing to a stop. It was comforting to Eddie. He’d never really known what people meant when they’d say “get in the zone” growing up, until he started playing again, playing for real this time. It was easy to focus on the sounds, silence your brain by tricking it to listen to the claps of the stick on the ice, the pop of the puck soaring, the-

“Skidamarink a dink, a dink. Skidamarink a doo.”

A clean miss, startled by the sudden blaring of music from behind him. Skates wobbling, knees locking into place. Eddie turned, squinting towards the other end of the rink.

“Hey, hey!” Eddie skated, shouting over the music- horrendous at that, what was this song?

“Excuse me,” You looked up, adjusting the volume on your boom box. “Hey, uh, sorry this is a closed practice.” Eddie skated to you, hockey stick waving exaggeratedly behind him.

“Yeah it is.” You nodded, head tilting to the side slightly. “Are you… here to drop off?”

“What? No, no, I-” Eddie paused, brows furrowed at you lightly. “I- this is my practice.”

“Your practice?” You repeated, pointing at the ice below you.

“Yeah.”

“You’re here for the Snowflakes?”

“No, I play for-” Eddie shakes his head, hand running over his face. “Snowflakes? What-”

“-The three to four year old class?” You press, brow raised, face contorted in what Eddie could only assume was your best judgment masking, though by the scrunch in your nose, it wasn’t working very well. “For ice skating lessons?”

“Lessons? Sweetheart, c’mon, does it look like I need lessons?” Eddie grins, smug and sweet. His heart skips when you bite back a smile, lips twitching. “I’m- I rent out the time to practice.”

“Oh,” You frown slightly. “I, uh, I did too.”

“You know what, let me- let me just go ask Max.” Eddie flashes you a dazzling smile. “I’ll get it sorted out.”

“You’re both right.” Max droned behind the desk, flipping through a magazine lazily. “Both of you have the slot for today.”

“What? Why-Why would Bobby book up both spots?” Eddie frowned. “That makes no fuckin’ sense. I’m here every Thursday-”

Max huffed, snatching the scheduling paper off the back wall, slapping it on the desk. “Eddie Munson. Five to six-thirty. Left.” Her blue eyes raised in boredom. “That means, you’re on the left side.”

“Left? This is- That’s fuckin’ ridiculous, Max, c’mon-”

“-It’s Bobby.” Max rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to double book, make more money during the dead season. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“So I have to practice with a bunch of fuckin’ kids running around?” Eddie huffs. “How the hell am I gonna do that? Huh? Do you hear the shit they’re playing in there?” Eddie throws a hand out towards the rink. “I’m already about to lose my mind.”

“So get some ear plugs, Eddie, I don’t know.” Max huffed, throwing her hands up. “You know I can’t refund you, so either leave, or suck it up. I honestly don’t care, Munson, up to you.”

Eddie’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek, rolling furiously. Bunch of kids skating all around him, screaming and shit, he’d never get anything done.

Still, Eddie’s eyes wandered back to you. In your matching tracksuit, a powdery blue that seemed to shine even under the fluorescents of the rink. He supposed there could be worse people to share the ice with. He faced Tommy Raider again next season, and he’d rather be with a bunch of screaming toddlers anyday over him anyday.

Besides, the kids weren’t so bad. The occasional screech or laughter when you’d have them do something silly. It was cute, honestly, Eddie decided, seeing these little kids wobble around on skates while you cooed enthusiastically at them.

“Ok, my little flurries,” You grinned, cheeks aching from the amount of feigned enthusiasm you had to muster. “Next week we’re going to really work on our glide.” You pushed off dramatically, soaring a few spaces then stopping.

It was so exaggerated, over the top and made the kids giggle; Eddie was sure he was in love.

“So be sure to be practicing holding your arms way, way out!” You extended your arms, beaming at the few who mimicked you. “And I’ll see you all next week!”

Eddie had spent the majority of the time practicing what he’d say to you, how he’d ask you out. A classic chat up line always worked at the bar, always helped him score. Still, his knees wobbled, tight and a little unsure as he skated over to you.

You were waving goodbye to a student, stepping off to the bleachers to undo your own skates. “Hey,” Eddie’s voice cracked, wobbly and unsure in his throat, teeth clenching in a grimace.

You looked up, a tiny half smile in greeting. “Hi. Hope we didn’t bother you too much.”

“What? No. No, no, no. No, you didn’t-” Eddie took a breath, heart hammering in his chest, ringing in his ears. “It was… Yeah, that was really fun to watch actually. The, uh, seeing the kids in their skates and shit. You’re-You’re really good with them, and, uh…” The fuck is that Munson? The fuck are you doing? Eddie’s mind raced, furiously.

“Thanks.” You grinned, a wicked little smile that had Eddie’s cheeks flushing. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Felt like he was back in middle school, swooning any time Connie Donohue would swish her hair over her shoulder, letting it land on his desk and brush his hand.

“They’re a fun age. Super sweet. Not like the asshole eight year olds.” Your finger curled under the untied laces, shimmying them loose.

“Oh? Eight year olds, they're the asshole group?” Eddie grinned, leaning against the rink’s surface. He hoped you couldn’t tell how he was flexing, muscles protruding under the tight, black material of his shirt.

“Total assholes. I had them last year, and that’s why I switched-”

“-Excuse me?” A tiny squeak of a voice came from behind you. You turned, expecting one of your kids who had forgotten a mitten or jacket.

“Are-Are you Eddie Munson?” The small boy with wide eyes gaped at Eddie.

Eddie flushed, swallowing, eyes flickering to you. Your brows creasing, looking at the tiny boy then back at Eddie. “Yeah, yeah that’s me.” Eddie forced a smile, gripping the rink as he stepped onto the bleachers, settling on the ones across from you.

“What’s your name, little man?” Eddie grinned.

“Samuel.” The boy grinned, a little shyly.

“Samuel, that’s a cool name. How old are you?”

“Eight.” The boy beamed.

Eddie’s eyes cut over to yours, lips twisting, fighting back a grin. You blushed, turning away from his glances, cheeks burning with heat you hoped he didn’t see. “Eight? That’s a… that’s a cool age, right?”

“Right.” Samuel nodded. “I-I watch you all the time with my dad and my mom.” Samuel babbled in true kid fashion. “You’re my favorite hockey player.”

“Me? No way, c’mon.” Eddie shook his head playfully.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re from Hawkins too.” Samuel nodded, matter of factly. “They said that on-on the TV one time when I was watching.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Eddie nodded. “Used to practice here when I was your age.” He nodded over towards the rink behind him.

“We went one time to a game, and… and you lost a tooth!” Samuel giggled in true, eight year old asshole form. “The other guy knocked it out when-when you were fighting!”

Eddie laughed, a howling of a cackle that bounced off the walls of the rink, over the hum of the electricity and heat in the stands.

You watched carefully, interest piqued. You knew he was good, you’d watched him practice, it was obvious he had skill. And the name did sound familiar, plastered across headlines and the local news, one of Hawkins’ very own made it big.

Eddie signed Samuel’s jersey, left him scampering back to his awaiting parents with a triumphant grin. “What are the odds of that?” Eddie beamed, grinning ear to ear when he looked over at you.

You laughed, knotting your own skates together, reaching for your snow boots. “I, uh, I didn’t realize you-you played for the… Played hockey.”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugged, inked hand running down his arm. You tried not to stare. “It’s alright, really. Not bad benefits, but work hours are a little crazy.”

“Yeah?” You laughed lightly. “I would say so. Pretty demanding.”

“Oh yeah. And you lose a tooth or two sometimes.” Eddie’s eyes cut to yours playfully, a dimpled grin that had your heart shooting with heat.

“Yikes.” You sucked in a breath dramatically. “That seems brutal.”

“You ever been?” Eddie asked, untying his own skates, letting the blade rest on the cement barrier in front of him.

“To… what? A game?”

“Yeah.”

“No.” You shook your head. “Not, like, a real hockey game. Not… Not one of yours.” Your knee bounced nervously, a little unsure even in your own answer.

“You should come.” Eddie shrugged cooly, hoping you couldn’t see the way his hands shook with adrenaline. “Come to the opener in a few weeks. I’ll get you tickets.”

“What?” You laughed lightly. “You- No, you don’t even know my name, and you’re gonna get me tickets? Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Well, I was hoping I could get your name, maybe your number too.” Eddie’s lips pursed lightly. “Get to know you before the game. Can give you those tickets next time I see you. What do you think? You free Friday night? Saturday?”

You blushed, looking down at your boots, fiddling with the laces to avoid his gaze. “Saturday. I don’t have to work.” You looked back at him.

“Saturday it is.” Eddie beamed.

You scrawled your name and number on the torn corner piece of the schedule. Eddie had snatched it and a pen from behind the desk, ignoring Max’s huffs of annoyance. He’d clutched it the whole way home, paper a little soft from the dampness of his sweaty hands. The tiny slip of paper was taped to his landline, staying there long after Eddie had memorized the number. In your pretty, loopy handwriting for Eddie to see each time he called you.

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enwoso · 20 hours

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Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid

CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti

"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.

“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.

“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.

poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.

you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.

and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.

you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.

chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.

now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.

“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.

“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’

“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.

“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”

“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.

“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.

“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.

“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.

“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.

“well he’s not wrong”

now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.

“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.

“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.

lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.

by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.

lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.

tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.

quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.

crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.

“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.

“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.

you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.

you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.

“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”

#awfc imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc #awfc x reader #woso appreciation #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso #lia walti #lia wälti #lia walti x reader #enwoso

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wolfiesmoon · 3 months

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Hiiii! (I hope this is the place to make requests aaaaa haven’t done this in a W H I L E) but can I request pocky challenge headcanons for Floyd, Vil, and Idia? :)

Hope you’re having a great week and I love your writing :D

the way i freaked out over receiving this omg i'm so happy u like my writing😭😭😭

i love pocky challenge fics and you really fed me with the characters you chose since I have like 3467346826428 vil and idia drafts i can't get into rn. also we already know how my brain is rotting over floyd the eel boy at the moment

ALSO ALSO ALSO you aren't dating yet in these!! you're still just friends (but not for long😈)

(@kairiscorner i borrowed ur idea of picking out what flavour would fit them to add a little spice, I hope u don't mind!)

☾⋆⁺₊ Floyd Leech + Pocky Colorful

he gets really excited when you pull out the box of pockies 😆i mean, sharing food with you????? that's, like, the third best thing he can do with you!

and these pockies look rlly funny too, what does "colorful" even taste like? He's kinda in a mood to find out 😌

and gets even MORE excited when you mention the challenge!!!!

I mean, kissing AND sharing food with you?! he calls that a win for sure 😤😤😤😤

you're rlly surprised at how casual he is about it considering you just challenged him to try and kiss you essentially

but okay, i guess it is kinda Floydcore to just casually agree to a pocky game with no blushing or getting flustered (i suppose this means he likes you back??? what a mystery he is...)

you laugh to yourself at the silly grin on his face as u pull out a pocky and place one end into your mouth, leaning towards him to let him take the other end

he does so and you close your eyes, feeling kinda giddy all of a sudden

but you can still feel his downturned peepers staring a hole into you, curious to see every facial movement and reaction you may have👁️👁️

he must be really excited then!! (even if you feel extremely unsettled rn)

you slowly bite down on the stick, getting nervous. you can definitely hear him crunching on it too...

you can feel his breath, your noses bump for a moment and you think "THIS IS IT THIS IS IT THIS IS IT"

but then you hear a *snap* and the pocky falls out of your mouth... what just happened?

"I bit into it a bit too hard..." You open your eyes to see Floyd pouting like a toddler who was told he can't have candy

"It's okay, we can do it again!" you take out another pocky stick, placing the end in your mouth and looking at him expectantly

must be hard having such sharp teeth sometimes💔

"Now I don't feel like it anymore." Floyd huffed, getting up and walking away💀

That little... you still love him anyway tho🤷🏻

☾⋆⁺₊ Vil Schoenheit + Apple Yogurt Pocky

initially, he'd refuse since pockies are sweets and he needs to watch his sugar if he wants to keep his model figure and his clear skin

but he supposes sugar is nice to enjoy every once in a while (especially if he gets to share it with you)

but THEN you ask him if he's ever heard of the pocky challenge before😈

"I have heard of it in passing but I don't know what is actually is, why?" he raises an eyebrow, recalling some comments from his fans talking about it after the Pocky commercial he was in

"Becauuuuse, I think you should do it with me." you blink at him innocently before going on to explain the rules and seeing his eyes widen 😌

"So, what you're saying is... If neither of us back out, we kiss?"

WAIT WHAT

You actually expected him to turn you down immediately and chew you out for even making the suggestion since you're just friends but this certainly took a turn for the better

"Precisely." you smirked

"Just so you know, I'm not one to back out once I set my mind onto something." he smirked back at you, taking out a pocky stick from the box and placing it in front of your mouth for you to bite onto

the stick slowly begins to get smaller as your lips inch closer to his and you grip the couch you're currently sat on nervously

You take another bite and suddenly feel his lips on yours🤭

SUCCESS! SUCCESS! SUCCE-

"Oh? This is an interesting flavour~"

wait... you recognise that voice😨

"ROOK?!" the two of you separated and yelled at the same time, then turned your heads to see Rook casually enjoying your Pocky beside you

"Did you both enjoy the flavour as well?" Rook smiled innocently at you, taking out another one from the box

Vil pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling something under his breath while you just sat there in shock🧍🏻

☾⋆⁺₊ Idia Shroud + Sakura Pocky

being the candy enjoyer that he is, he would never turn down free pocky (especially not his favourite... which speaking of, how did you know that one is his favourite?)

(ortho supplied you with that information)

however, his smile dropped when you started talking about the challenge all of a sudden

and he became all red instead🤭

"You got all that?" you asked, waving the pocky stick in front of his face with an innocent smile

"D-Do I- Do I...."

babe, he cannot form a sentence right now, much less process anything you just told him. you cannot POSSIBLY expect him to give you a clear answer right now🙄

"Oh, do you not wanna do it? That's fine." you get up, ready to leave (you're doing this on purpose, manipulation is key😈)

but no, seriously, you weren't going to make him do anything he was uncomfortable with, and you kinda expected a reaction like this anyways😭

"N-No, No, I want to..." he grabs onto your sleeve awkwardly, literally shaking from embarrasment

you're actually kinda worried, will he even survive till the whole kiss part?

No time like the present to find out, you suppose

you place the pocky in your mouth, waiting for him to bite into the other end. he does and immediately screws his eyes shut, WAAAY too embarrased to look at you

the distance between the two of you slowly closes but when there's just a bit of the pocky stick left he lets go and immediately runs away, hair slightly red at the ends😫

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god...." he whispers to himself over and over, thinking about how he almost kissed you just now

atleast he got to eat his favourite flavour...????

"Did it fail?" Ortho came out of his hiding spot and you nodded, pouting slighly☹️

"That's plan G crossed off the list. You wrote down '7 minutes in heaven' for plan H. Though I do not know what that is, I will assist you in any way I can."

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radiant-reid · 1 year

Note

Spencer and Reader not having very much alone time with each other, since they have a toddler, so they sneak a quickie in the laundry room.

this had to be written, hope that's okay

You've been not so patiently waiting for Spencer for fifteen minutes before he finally slides open the door and steps in. "Finally." You complain, locking the door behind him.

"It's not my fault she needs three stories before she'll nap." He tells you.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "No, that's literally your fault." You remind him. "You always want to read her more stories."

Spencer grabs your chin, holding your face close to his. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden movement and closeness. "Shut your pretty mouth, and take your pants off." He instructs.

It takes you a moment after he moves away to get your brain working to make a sarcastic comment. "Romantic."

He bites his bottom lip alluringly as he unbuttons and unzips his pants. "I don't need to romance you." He assures you.

"Are you calling me easy?" You question, raising your eyebrows and tempting him to continue.

"I know I've never had a problem getting into your pants." He recalls, devilishly handsome with his smirk.

You smack him on the shoulder before scolding him. "You're a dick."

"No." He shakes his head, grabbing your waist and pulling your jeans down your thighs. "I'm trying to get my dick in you."

"I am just blown away by your charm." You joke.

Spencer chuckles at you, baking you up until your back is against the machine.

You kick your jeans off, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pushes a strand of hair out of the way of your eye line. "Hey, gorgeous." He coos.

"Hi, pretty boy." You reply, nudging your nose against his. "Fuck me now? Please."

His lips meld to yours, kissing you firmly and passionately as his fingers slip under your panties, touching your clit. You moan against his lips, prompting him to push them aside and line himself up with your heat.

He slips inside you gently, thrusting deeply but slowly. It's as blissful as it always is. He doesn't waste any time you do have, pumping in and out of you roughly in a way that makes your breathing uneven.

"Fuck, Spencer, keep going." You cry, pulling him by the hair so you can kiss him.

"Mhm." He agrees, burying himself as deep inside you as he can get. "You feel so good."

Each time, you roll your hips against his until you can feel his cock against your cervix. Every one of your nerves is buzzing. His hands are all over you, trying to hold you as close to you as he can.

Your moans get louder with each thrust until Spencer has to clamp his hands over your mouth. "You're gonna have to be quiet if you don't want to get interrupted."

You really don't want him to stop so you pull him closer, burying your face in his neck to muffle your moans. You can hear Spencer panting against the shell of your ear, a trail of expletives and your name leaving his mouth.

"I'm so close." You moan to him.

"Let go for me, baby." He instructs you, weaving his hand between your bodies to massage your clit.

You cum around his cock at that, squeezing him tightly as pleasure boils through your veins. The pressure on his cock has him pumping his cum inside you and pausing his motion where he's deepest inside you.

"God, I love you." He says, pulling out and adjusting your panties so there's not a mess of his cum all over the laundry room.

"I love you too." You reply, getting onto the floor with shaky legs to redress. "And our laundry room quickies."

He chuckles. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't know this room exists." He jokes.

"Our secret hangout." You declare it.

"Fucking spot, more like." He reminds you.

"Rendezvous." You reason. "It's more romantic."

He pulls you into a quick hug, kissing your forehead lovingly. "Whatever you want to call it, I'm just lucky to have it with you."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds

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whalesforhands · 1 month

Text

shirtless neighbours and exercise (kaizen stroll!)

The first time you meet your neighbours outside the house, you could swear you had to rewire every neuron in your brain in hopes of it ever working again.

“Oho? Gummmiii, look who’s here!” Perched atop the broad shoulders of his snowy-haired father figure, was one of the few resident toddlers of this neighbourhood.

You would’ve been quite glad to see him, really! Such an adorable, sweet little boy with just as charming siblings with endearing traits… And not to mention the total eye candies their parents were.

“Good muscl— Morning!” Your eyes can’t seem to stop trailing down the naked upper half of his body as you sweat, nearly choking on your words and already screaming internally, praying neither of them heard your slip-up as your hand grips the grocery bag ever tighter, face starting to grow hot with embarrassment and shame.

Jeez, stop being so goddamn hor—

“(name).” He purrs back your name in a blissful greeting, smile growing on his face and words rolling off his tongue so sweetly that it almost makes your knees buckle, your eyes stuck on watching his hand going up to his head to push back some sweaty strands of white as you try to avert your eyes for politeness sake. “Out for groceries so early?”

Oh— The slight pant in his sentences evidence of a good workout, the cute kid perched atop his shoulders, his shirtless self just looking so, so hot—! Respond normally, like a normal person, just your average, run-of-the-mill reply…!

However, you don’t think your brain is even going to be able to process anything anymore. Not after this, definitely. You remember seeing stark white, radiant blue and a curious head of spiky black as your senses start to go into overdrive.

Buff, sweaty arms that rippled with power and strength. Slicked back white hair from the obviously tough work-out. A droplet of sweat rolling down a really nice, really defined abdomen that put even the washboards at home to shame, prominent V-lines leading down, down, down…!

You have to snap yourself out of it, stop being such a pervert—!

“Uhm,” He has to bite back a chuckle at the way you’ve just been staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, your face just so cute when admiring him. “Ya okay?” He obviously knows he looks good just from your blatant staring of his body and embarrassed face, the way you’ve just been unable to do nothing but blabber nonsense for the next solid few seconds.

(You’re stroking his ego, despite the strange reception.)

“Ahaha…” Your eyes blink rapidly as you almost stumble forward from forcing yourself back into reality, eyes hurriedly flicking upwards to meet with Megumi’s blue. “Y-yeah! Fine! Just great! Never been bice—Better!” You cough into your fist to clear your throat as well as fight the urge to bury yourself into the ground below you.

“How… About you both?” Good. Perfect. Perfectly normal reply. Good answer! Non-NEET like at all!

A wide grin and a veiny, muscled arm bending to show a thumbs-up as you gulp nervously. “Just got done with some workouts! Doc says Gumi here— Ow, ow! Gumi, I told ya to stop tuggin’ at my hair to get my attention!” A whining of complaint as the shirtless man pats at his son’s leg. “Daddy spent real long tryna get it pretty today!”

Another decisive tug in retaliation.

“What a mean kid I raised…!” He sniffles in mock pain when there’s another pull, patting the leg over his collarbone to signal his defeat as he shifts his weight. “Ow, ow! Okay, okay! I get it, you want your pretty sensei right?”

Ahh… Men who love their kids are so hot… Did he just call you—

“Mn.” Megumi nods his head, black hair swaying with the shift of his cute, chubby face and extending his arms out towards you from his position perched atop the tall, broad shoulders as you continue to try not to implode at the sight of his very shirtless, very sweaty father who was smiling so innocently as he starts to slowly step closer towards you.

Oh… No…

“Sorry honey,” He’s staring up at the little boy as he stands close enough before you, whiffs of strawberry and pine mixed with his sweat starting to invade your nose. “Do you mind helping me to calm him down a little? He gets really fussy, ‘specially on weekends when he can’t see yo—“

Don’t think about it, don’t think about how sexy he looks right now— don’t think about it don’t think don’t think don’t think don’t think—

You feel a warm trail of liquid drip from your nose, catching sight of a matching pair of worried blue eyes, both widened considerably as Gojo’s grin starts to fade, a hand reaching out to cup your chin with Megumi’s face looking as if he was about to cry.

“Oh— Fuck.”

——

It seems that the second time you’re invited to this estate, is to treat a nosebleed of all things…

“Too much to handle, huh?” He’s being gentle as he dabs at your bloody nose, having princess-carried you all the way back to his apartment in a fit of worry, insisting that he’ll take care of you to, ‘fix his mistake’.

(You weren’t sure if he was complimenting himself or not.)

Nonetheless, you’re still experiencing embarrassment you’ve yet to be able to live down for at least the rest of your life. Maybe it’s better to just go into hiding, become a NEET who plays Jujutsu Kaisen all day, max out that INT stat on your character, buy another gift card to top up on more Cursed Points to roll that new clothing gacha—

Ah, who are you kidding? You’d rather just die in a ditch somewhere right now as the Gojo Satoru, father to many of your beloved children, extremely tall, and stupidly charming hunk of a man dabbing blood and snot out of your nose because you lost control of your mind after seeing him sweaty and shirtless.

This is definitely some sort of loser path you would’ve accidentally stumbled into if you were in a dating sim visual novel! Ahh… Whatever god is up there, please don’t be so cruel to you anymore…!

Maybe that was how you ended up on his sofa, one of his kids in your lap and him right next to you, settled comfortably on his sofa as a kiddy anime plays, simply living through the motions. It’s not like you haven’t tried asking to leave.

Your mouth is open as Megumi spoons another scoop of pudding into your mouth, sat comfortably upon your lap as he watches you intently to make sure you’re eating every bite well.

He’s scrutinizing your every movement, blue eyes practically drilling in on your mouth as you start to sweat out of nervousness, making it a point to exaggerate your chewing actions well to sate him.

“Does Daddy get any bites, Gumi?” Said man’s arm rested upon the back of the sofa, brushing against your back and almost looking like it was wrapped around your shoulders. Almost.

(At least he’s got a shirt on…)

“No.” A curt, straight-to-the-point and outright rejection, another spoonful getting carefully pushed up towards your lips as he uses the entirety of his smaller body to shield the precious pudding away from that hungry monster.

“You,” He points the spoon almost menacingly towards the much too big man, blue eyes narrowing behind spiky strands that obscure his face. “Eat too much.”

“Ahhh! So mean!” Said little boy was now being lifted out of your lap, much larger hands lifting him up by his underarms and out of reach from you as he’s held up to the light.

“Even Daddy gets hurt if you don’t feed him! What if I starve to death?!” He’s pouting up at his literal child, the toddler giving him a blank stare despite the vulnerable, adorable position he’s been put in. Even with his puppy-print themed socks hanging midair, the seriousness in his eyes reflecting it all.

“Then di—“

“Is it heavy, Nanako? Papa can carry it—“ The door to the Gojo-Geto estate opens with a chime, waddling twin making her way in, a tin of cocoa mix in her hands as she settles it upon the genkan floor.

“I got it, Papa!” She flexes her arm, patting the soft flesh there. “Nanako’s strong!” She’s gonna be just like her parents, afterall! No time for slacking when it could be used for muscle building!

“Daddy! Gumi! Papa and I are backkkkk!”

She starts to kick off her green sneakers, excited to be able to watch that new anime she’s been waiting for all week, humming as she hears the reusable grocery bags being placed down behind her, eyes catching sight of an unfamiliar pair of shoes.

(And a very familiar scent lingering about.)

No way…! Today, too?! It’s with a squeal that she takes off, shoes flying off and onto the carpeted genkan, leaving a confused Suguru in its wake.

“Nanako! Be careful!”

She bursts into the room with glimmering eyes, grin stretching wide across her cheeks as she practically lunges towards you.

“(NAME)-SENSEI!” You catch her midair, meeting her halfway as you feel her practically throw you back against the couch with her weight, her entire body a force to be reckoned with as you try to hide your gasp of pain at how much her exhilarating acceleration had caused the much too painful impact.

And soon, you had Megumi plopped onto you as well once he had forced his way out of a certain someone’s hold, crawling towards you as a defeated Gojo Satoru played ‘dead’ on the couch, having been defeated by his very own son.

“(name)-senseiiiiiiii~,” She’s whining into your lap, blonde strands rubbing against the fabric of your clothing and her face buried into your chest, squeezing in next to Megumi as they both look up at you with shiny, begging eyes. “Since you’re already hereeee!”

“Stay for dinner again!”

masterlist (this fic is part of my kaizen daycare! series)

Notes:

Due to the new transfer of Itadori Yuuji and Kugisaki Nobara, Megumi has been eating a lot more snacks than usual. His doctor has advised him to take more walks. This has ended up with Gojo Satoru bringing him along when he goes for a jog.

Just like her Daddy, Nanako has developed an oddly strong sense of smell.

Tsumiki takes ballet lessons whilst Mimiko goes for a plushie making seminars for toddlers on weekends.

Once, Megumi offered his Daddy a bite of his pizza bun. He experienced the betrayal of Gojo Satoru’s ‘one bite’ trick.

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t, sensei.” It’s Geto Suguru that’s leaning against the doorframe, cocoa tin tucked under his arm as grocery bags decorate his fingers. “I would appreciate your expertise in cooking again.”

“I second it!” Gojo Satoru is already up and about, foregoing the ‘playing dead’ farce to be a part of this conversation.

“Daddy, Gumi said you’re a liar and a cheat for not playing all the way through!”

“E-eh? I can’t even revive myself momentarily to reply?!”

#kdc au #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 4 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 73

Part 1 Part 72

Steve clutches Eddie and Will tighter to him. He can feel the warmth of their skin beneath their clothes, so warm against the November air that it burns. He clutches them tighter still, hoping he can immolate himself on their warmth, let that golden light in.

The kids are all yelling behind him, asking questions he doesn’t have answers to. Their faces blur together, as do their names, consumed slowly by the thing he can feel in the back of his head. It’s an ice pick through his brain. He wants to lean into it, even as he rubs his cheek into Eddie’s chest, the zipper biting roughly into his jaw.

“It got me,” he murmurs, words buzzing through Eddie’s heartbeat.

Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulls his face up by a fistfull of it to meet his eye. It stings. Steve wants to rub against it like an affection-starved cat. “What was that, sweetheart?”

Steve looks into his deep, brown eyes, and tries to keep them in his mind past the cold all around. “I can feel it,” he says. “It got me.”

Eddie’s biting his lip, blanching it white around his teeth. Without thought, Steve reaches out his pointer finger and pulls it down until it springs free. Eddie swallows audibly, Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. Steve sort of wants to bite it until he tastes blood.

“Should we go to Dr. Owens?” Will asks.

Steve whips his head to the side quick enough that Will lurches back a bit, falling out of the pile their bodies make and into the grass. Steve wants to reach out and drag him back. The through-line between them feels frozen, made brittle by the cold. Like if he pulled just a little too hard the whole thing would snap with catastrophic blowback for them both. But–

“I’m not going to a doctor,” he says. So vehement that it barely sounds like his voice at all.

Will shuffles back a little farther, hands outstretched and empty.

Eddie sits up, holding Steve beneath the armpits like he’s a toddler being carried. He sets him down right in front of Eddie and grabs his bare hand. It’s so scorching, it burns. Steve clutches on, watching tight-lipped as Eddie reaches his open hand out for Will’s own, making a fucked up little circle full of fucked up little people.

Whatever moment Eddie’s trying to create pops when one of the kids surrounding them opens her mouth.

“You should go to the doctor,” she says, clutching a skateboard to her chest when everyone turns to look at her. “What? That wasn’t normal!”

Steve looks at her, tries to make the lines of her face resolve into a memory, any memory at all. It doesn’t work. “Who are you?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, random girl, I get it,” she says, throwing her hands in the air as she storms away, throwing a biting, “leave me out of your freaky shit, then. What do I care!”

Once she’s on the sidewalk in front of the school, she drops her skateboard to the ground, jumps on it and skates away, jumping showily over the split on the sidewalk, big enough to lose a quarter in.

“So cool,” one of the kids mutters, the curly-haired one. Dustin? He has a brief flash of the kid sitting at the edge of a bed with white sheets, bouncing in excitement, before it fades back.

“She’s right, though,” another kid says, crossing his arms and glaring down at Steve haughtily. He’s like a judgemental raincloud, and Steve would know, he can feel one pushing him out of his head right now. “You need to go to the doctor.”

Something unfurls in Steve’s head. He wants to reach his hands out and wrap around the kid’s neck like a snake. He wants to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. But Eddie’s still holding his hand, skin so hot that it hurts. So he doesn’t.

“I’m not going,” he says, standing up, his grip on Eddie’s hand pulling him up as well, leaving Will to scramble up behind them, hanging on tightly to Eddie’s hand as Steve leads the procession away from the kids and back toward the high school.

“Where are we going?” Will asks, voice small and frightened.

Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand like Will can feel it. Eddie squeezes back. “I’m going home.”

No one says anything as they walk up the sidewalk, as they reach the school, as Eddie presses Steve into the passenger seat, and Will into the back before climbing into the driver’s side.

He drives them all home.

The heat in the van’s been busted since he met Eddie, barely trickling heat out of the vents no matter how high Eddie blasts it. Steve settles in, letting the chill of his skin and the comfort of Eddie’s familiar music fill him up.

His first view of the trailer hits like a breath of relief. Home, home, home.

The heat in the trailer works. When Eddie opens the door, leading Steve by the waist into its comfortably familiar interior, the heat of the place hits Steve in the face, making him gasp.

He shakes out of Eddie’s grasp, already breathless, walks to the thermostat and turns it down until the heat clicks off entirely. He goes to the little window in the kitchen, and the window in their bedroom, opens them both, letting the chill in.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, as Steve makes his way to the bathroom, opening that window as well. Steve brushes past him, propping the door open like his Father taught him to make sure the air circulates.

Will’s voice murmurs from the kitchen, telling someone where he is and that he’s fine and that he loves them. Steve only realizes he was on the phone when he hears the familiar click of the receiver being put down.

“Steve?” Eddie says. Steve looks back at him. “What are you doing?”

Will walks out of the kitchen, silent enough that Steve wouldn’t have noticed him hovering partially behind the separation wall if it wasn’t for the brittle line connecting them, even still. His eyes are wide, face pale as he looks at Steve desperately. Steve wishes he knew what the kid wanted, but his head feels so full, it’s going to burst, so he just says, “he likes it cold.”

Somehow, Will’s eyes get even wider at that, pupils darting over to where Eddie’s still hovering at the threshold of the bathroom. Eddie’s holding up one of his curls above his mouth, the way he always does when he’s embarrassed or bashful, but his eyes are wide and wet and sad. Steve takes a step toward him, hand outstretched.

Something unfurls within him when Eddie takes his hand, even as it burns burns burns.

“Who likes it cold?” Eddie asks quietly, a secret between the three of them.

Steve looks into his eyes, says nothing. He knows they both know who he means, can see the recognition in Eddie’s face. Still, he looks up, like he’ll be able to see it still, now, even here.

All he sees is the gaudy yellow of the Munson’s ceiling, like the warm light glow of the sun is cracking through and shining down on them, even as the clouds outside clap open and pour down on the shitty metal shingles.

Eddie squeezes his hand, linking their fingers more securely like he never wants to let go. “Okay, Steve,” he says, even quieter still. Steve doubts Will can hear it from where he’s still hovering on the outskirts of the kitchen. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

He raises Steve’s hand to his lips, sears a burning kiss across his hand and then drops them back down to dangle in the minute space separating them.

Steve wonders what there is to fix. This is how it was always going to go, how it’s supposed to be. Steve closes his eyes, and feels the shadows slither within.

Part 74

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #steddie upsidedown au #will byers

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

Text

Jealous Jake and the Biting Problem

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin is your friend with benefits, but he doesn’t appreciate finding the evidence of your other sleepover buddy on your body.

Warnings: talk of and almost oral (f receiving), cursing, um…that might be it. That said, it’s still 18+

Note: I wrote this in about a half hour so don’t judge. I’m sure there are mistakes.

Words: 989

Jealous Jake Masterlist

------

You lay with your back flat against your mattress. He pushes your skirt up around your waist, kissing every bare piece of skin as he makes his way down between your legs. With a firm hand he spreads your thighs further and you shiver from his breath softly caressing your pussy.

But then he pauses.

“Wh–” he begins, and you hear the question in his tone before he asks it. “What is this?”

Supported by your elbows, you lean up and peer past your skirt to see his eyes glued to a specific spot on your inner thigh. He runs his finger over the sensitive skin.

“Oh,” you say, “A, uh…bite, I think.” You rub at your temple, trying to gather the foggy drunken memories from the night before. “Yea, definitely a bite.”

His eyes meet yours, anger swirling in mossy-green irises. “Some other guy bit you?”

“Once or twice.”

“Twice?” he snaps, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Some other guy bit you twice. Where’s the other one?”

You chuckle when he starts to scan over all visually accessible pieces of your body for similar bruises. “I don’t know, somewhere. I didn’t really keep track, Jake.”

His stare clashes with yours. “So there could be more?”

“I–I guess,” you say, unable to process the rapidity of his questions with your brain still in its aroused haze. “Can we stop talking about this, please? Are you going to eat me out or what?”

Jake stands and you get the full view of his belt buckle hanging open, likely undone when he’d settled between your thighs so he could stroke himself as he licked you–before he got distracted, that is.

He runs long fingers through his hair and chuckles dryly, looking like he’s trying to tamp down a panic attack. “No, I can’t focus now.”

“What!”

His eyes are wild as his hand gestures up and down the length of your body. “You’ve got marks on you that I didn’t make! That’s all I'm going to be able to think about.”

“Jake, are you serious?”

Those hands land on his hips; chest rising and falling at an unusual pace, especially for Jake, who’s rarely anything other than calm, cool, and collected, occasionally even in the midst of absolutely wrecking one another.

“Yes!”

Shrugging as best you can in your position, you say, “Ok, I’ll tell him to back off with the biting. No big deal.”

“Yea, tell him to keep his biters to himself,” he grumbles, “and then he needs to move a hundred miles away.”

At this point, you’re well aware that your dripping pussy is unlikely to be satisfied, so you sit up and let your skirt fall to bunch at the tops of your thighs. “You sound like such a child.”

He releases a scoff and, arm fully extended, points a finger at the door of your bedroom as if the other man is just outside, hanging out in your living room and making himself at home in Jake’s territory. “He’s the one with the biting habit of an annoying toddler!”

“You’ve bitten me too.”

“That is completely different!”

“Because it was you?”

“Exactly!”

You nod and wait for him to take a few breaths to allow for his voice to drop to its usual octave. When he looks calm enough, with a snort you ask, “Should I just get a tattoo below my belly button that says ‘No biting unless you’re Jake Seresin?’.”

“More like ‘No fucking unless you’re Jake Seresin’,” he mumbles under his breath, but you hear it so clearly he might as well have whispered it in your ear.

“Excuse me?”

By the look on his face, he knows he’s been caught. His brow is knitted, lips folded in though it’s way too late to keep his mouth shut. He groans, spits out a curse, shifts his weight to his other foot. “I’m not seeing other women,” he says, calmly for the first time in the night. “I don’t want to, because I only want you, and I want you to only want me.”

If not for the faint pink shade making its way over his cheeks, you’d have thought yourself crazy for hearing those words. Jake Seresin and relationships did not go hand-in-hand as far as you knew. But then again, the two of you started sleeping together about three hours after Phoenix introduced you at the Hard Deck, and relationships never came up. She had joked that he was trouble, but he never actually told you himself that he wasn’t willing to sign his name in the Big Book of Monogamous Men. And you’d be kidding yourself to say you haven’t thought of it. You have a chemistry with him you’ve never known with another man, and when you go out together you always have fun. And you do like him. Plain and simple.

You smirk, but he still looks nervous. “Well, you could’ve just said so.”

“What?”

Rising to your knees, you inch towards him until you’re at the edge of the mattress, your chest flush against his. He’s still frozen as a statue when you wrap your arms around his neck. “Jake, I don’t feel anything for him.” You press a kiss to the line of his jaw, and then another before you pull back. “It’s not like how it is with you. So if you want me, I’m yours.”

His eyes go wide and his lips part from his slackening jaw, then he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat. “Really? Just like that?”

“I know. Crazy, huh?”

He finally loosens his stiff limbs. His hands fall to their natural place on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin and tugging you impossibly closer. “Fucking insane,” he whispers as he leans in, “But I’m not about to argue with my girl,” and his lips meet yours.

------

tags (if you’re crossed out, it didn’t work for some reason. If I spelled it wrong, let me know) @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41 @wkndwlff @rileyloves5 @gigisimsonmars @hangmanbrainrot @withakindheartx @izzzzy-the-amazing @topguncultleader

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miraclewoozi · 4 months

Text

[ 05:55 ] - c.hs

pair: vernon x fem!reader. w/c: 2k content: pwp/smut. (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT). married au. christmas drabble. warnings: swearing. bad jokes/festive innuendoes throughout. smut tags UTC. notes: yes this is several days late. no i am not taking questions. notes 2.0: at the time of writing i am stuck in a very grim post-xmas limbo (see: entirely too full of cheese and also regret), however i remain down horrendous for this loser so here we are. enjoy. <3

smut tags: spooning -> forking. fingering, nipple play, talk of spicy dreams incl. a blowjob. piv sex. breeding kink (see: hills i will die on). creampie! cockwarming. it’s all very domestic. barely proof read. please let me know if i have forgotten anything.

Soft lips against the shell of your ear accompany you on your return to the land of the living, several hours earlier than you’d ideally like to be awake and definitely long before the sun decides to make its own face known. Your room is dark and the air is bitterly cold, even wrapped up under your bedsheets, even tangled in the arms of your husband.

But you don’t need to be able to feel your toes, nor see six feet in front of you to know exactly why you’ve been woken up this early. All you need to be able to do is hear, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with your ears at this ungodly hour.

“Morning,” Hansol murmurs huskily when your hands place themselves over his, low on your stomach beneath your sleep shirt. “Happy Christmas, baby.”

“Happy Christmas,” you say back, smiling serenely, your brain still fogged with the last wisps of your retreating slumber. The tone of his voice alone is a dead giveaway to what he wants, but you decide to play with him a little first anyway and feign innocence. Lazy mornings like this where neither of you are in a rush to get straight out of bed are a little bit of a treat, so who are you to not indulge him? “Why are you awake?”

It’s no secret that your partner likes to sleep in whenever gets the chance, but with a toddler in the room down the hall and a demanding job that has him leaving home before sunrise, most days, that’s something of a rarity now. He answers you silently, pressing his hips into your backside and you feel him — all of him — thick and hard and warm against the flesh of your ass. Ah. Just as expected. A warm chuckle escapes you and you move to turn over in his arms, but his strong hold traps you in place and you just wiggle back against him instead.

He barely stifles a groan and, still laughing, you roll your eyes.

“S’that a candy cane in your pocket?” You ask, feeling him shuffle down a fraction and rut against the seam of your thighs over and over, quiet grunts betraying the pleasure he tries to conceal. Close enough to feel your core’s heat, yet separated enough from it to only feel more frustrated. “Or are you just happy to see me?”

Hansol laughs despite himself into the smooth skin of your neck, shaking his head. He slides one of his hands up from your stomach to your chest, his warm fingers finding and dragging around one of your nipples with practiced accuracy.

“You can find out,” he says, feeling goosebumps raise on your skin as the bud hardens under his touch. “If you want.”

“Why don’t you tell me what got you all worked up, first?” You ask.

Morning wood is one thing, but to make him initiate all this? It must’ve been something really special. He proves you right as he pinches at your nipple, his other hand dipping below the waistband of your pyjama pants, his blunt nails dragging down your belly. You bite your lips to prevent yourself whining.

So sue you. It’s been a while.

“Had a dream about you,” Hansol says, peppering kisses down the side of your neck. You arch your back, simultaneously pressing your ass against his clothed cock again and your chest harder against his hand. “You were all dressed up for me. In this pretty little red outfit — you know the… sexy Christmas ones? With the white fur along the skirt?”

You nod, dropping your hand down to where his fingers are stroking, mercilessly slowly, against the cotton of your panties. To where he’s giving you hardly anything. On purpose. You shunt his wrist down a little, feeling him smirk into your skin. Finally though, he starts to thumb over your clit and you gasp appreciatively at the relief. “Oh yeah? And what was I doing?”

“It’s just funny you mentioned candy canes,” he tells you, rubbing at you a little faster. “You were suckin’ on me like I was one.”

You groan a little at his description, feeling your cheeks heat up. Arguably, this shouldn’t be sexy at all, but his rough morning voice and the way his skillful hands are working you up to a soaked, wriggling mess already has you flustered. You’re convinced nobody else in the world could turn a line that corny into auditory foreplay.

Leave it to you to marry the world’s biggest dork.

“All the way back into your throat,” he goes on, finally now slipping past the barrier of your underwear. He dips between your folds, dragging through your arousal before he moves his sickened finger back to your clit. “Dressed so naughty, but I’d have put you on the nice list for sure.”

“Enough with the damn—,” you snort, but your amusement dies and you clench your jaw as he starts to play with your other tit instead. You have to be quiet; you can’t afford for this to end before either of you manage to get off. Not now. But it’s so difficult when he knows your body better than he does his own. “You know she’ll be awake any-… oh.”

“Then get these off,” he whispers. He opens his palm fully then, pushing your thighs apart and pressing just the tips of two of his fingers against your hole. All the while, he fights to try and push your pyjama pants down with his other hand.

He fails, naturally, but you come to his rescue and slide them down over your hips for him. He joins you again in an effort to kick everything all the way off though, sliding one leg between yours and stamping a little impatiently at your sleepwear with his foot until they’re bunched up at the end of your bed. His boxer shorts, meanwhile, don’t even make it to his knees; as soon as he can pull himself free of their confines, he does, stroking along his length as you open your thighs for him.

He presses his lips against the curve of your shoulder while he settles into position behind you. Then, it’s just moments before you feel his head dragging through your slick in place of his fingers.

“Okay?” he asks, lining up with your entrance and pushing forward just enough that you feel the familiar stretch of his intrusion.

“Please,” you nod, grabbing the sheets in an attempt to anchor yourself, to hush the moans he always draws out of you. Hansol slides into your cunt slowly, pressing until his cock is buried all the way inside you, until his hips rest completely against your ass. Your whole body shivers at the feeling.

He barely moves for a little while, letting himself get used to the sensation of your walls hugging him for the first time in… weeks? Months, even? Too long, is the only real answer. His hand lays over your hip as you relax it and your thighs come back together, making you squeeze a little tighter around him. He fills you up so perfectly, too. So much that you feel warmth creeping to each of your extremities already. So much you can’t keep your mouth closed no matter how hard you try.

“Missed you,” you sigh, laying your hand on top of his, threading your fingers through the spaces between his own. He brushes his thumb over the side of your hand soothingly. “Missed this.”

“Me too,” he agrees, slowly starting to turn those cute accidental jerks of his hips into real thrusts. But he doesn’t move quickly. Not at all: quite the opposite, even; he fucks into you slow and deep, making sure you feel every inch of him on every single stroke.

It continues on much the same, but you’re not sure how long for: kissing your shoulders, your neck, the back of your hand when he lifts it up to his lips, breathing hot and heavy on your slowly warming skin. He murmurs sweet little praises. Rolls into you, dragging the tip of his cock against the sweet spot inside once he finds the angle that makes you hiccup your next breaths. He loves you, he makes love to you: quietly and intimately, and you’re so lost in this rarely seen, sweet, needy side to your husband that you barely realise you’re inching closer to your high until he’s the one to tell you you are.

“Close?” he asks, with a new rough edge to his voice that has nothing to do with the sleep his fantasies woke you both from. It’s not a question, despite the little lift he says the word with. He knows what it feels like. He knows you.

“Mhm,” you nod, swallowing back another whine as his hand dips between your legs again. “F-… yeah. Just like that—”

“I know, sweetheart,” he hums. “God, m’so lucky to have you. Feels so good.”

Your brain floods with static and it’s a miracle you even hear what he says next. He’s a man of few words (though one of many grunts) in the bedroom, but when Hansol starts getting overwhelmed in his pleasure, he babbles more than anyone you’ve ever met. You do hear him, though. Loud and clear.

“Gonna put another one in you,” he says, hushed but still undoubtedly desperate. “Wanna give you another baby— oh, you’re gonna look so pretty. Can I? Please—?”

And if his fingertips rubbing tight circles against your puffy clit, or his cock spearing into you with unsteady, shaky movements, or his throaty moans of your name hushed by the skin of your back weren’t enough to get you there? This is. You squeeze your eyes shut and cry around your fist as it hits, as ecstasy pulses through you in waves that never seem to end.

“Yes,” you gasp in the midst of it all, as he keeps asking — no, keeps begging. “Please, ‘Sol—”

“Fuck,” he groans, then, letting his own high wash over him and he starts to spill ribbons of white into your hot pussy. “You feel so fucking-… ah—”

He squeaks the words out. Right into your ear, fanning hot breaths down your now slightly sweaty neck. Even when he’s spent and stops rocking into your hips, he keeps rambling. “Thank you, shit, thank you—”

You don’t hear him swear much anymore. Not since you had your first baby; the suddenness of it makes you giggle, and the resulting clamp of your walls around his twitching length makes him hiss as he comes down. But he doesn’t pull out of you, even when he starts to soften. You realise after a few seconds what he’s doing, though. He’s keeping you plugged full of his cum; he’s not going to let any of it go to waste. (You both know it’s starting to dribble out of you down the sides of his length anyway, mixed with your own wetness. Neither of you are too worried about that right now.)

He meant it, then. All of it. Your stomach twists in delight as he taps your waist and you look back at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Make me a promise?” he asks, sweaty forehead pressed into your shoulder, still trying to catch his breath.

“Anything.”

“Let’s never leave it that long again,” Hansol whines. You can’t help but flutter around him again, this time at the mere thought of him being so desperate to fuck you more often. He lets out a slightly pained laugh, overstimulated.

“I promise,” you agree, feeling all of a sudden like your bones are made of lead. You could fall back asleep like this, quite happily.

But, you realise with a sigh, someone didn’t take care of the milk and cookies on the kitchen counter before they crawled into bed last night. That’s about to become your problem.

“Good,” he nods. “We’re gonna do this every day ‘til you have another one, okay? Twice. And extra on weekends.”

“Mhm, sure we are.” You laugh, finally now feeling him pull out of you with a kiss to your temple. (Twice a day is his upper limit, and both of you know that. But it doesn’t hurt to play along.) “In that case, I’ll save your special gift for later.”

tysm for reading!!! likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are, as always, super appreciated.<3

#vernon smut #choi hansol smut #vernon chwe smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #vernon x reader #j writes.#*#timestamps.#WELP good and bye 😭

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shewroteaworld · 1 month

Text

Detatched

Premise: You think you're alone in a storm of feelings. There's one person who won't let you get drenched in this downpour alone.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (relationship can be read as purely platonic or as a budding romance)

Approximate word count: 650

Warnings: Self-deprecation

“I just want to feel things. And not feel bad about feeling them.”

Tears fall and splotch the lines of your notebook paper. You’re relieved your writing was spared. But you're also annoyed. If it washed away the graphite evidence, maybe you could shy away from this. Maybe you could not feel this.

How could you feel such contradictory desires at the same time? How could you hold both in your heart? You couldn’t. You literally couldn’t.

It was only inevitable. You were meant to destroy yourself. You had brain power, sure. But connection to yourself? Your soul? A real knowledge of self?

You sniffle. You bite your knuckles to choke the sobs. If someone caught you here, crying in the BAU bathroom on the toilet…you could never live that down.

You sigh. Everyone was busy with work, packing up to go home, or already in the parking lot.

You were fine. You were safe. This was safe.

Of course, as if you were in a sitcom, as soon as the thought passed your mind, there was a goddamn knock on the door.

“Are you okay in there? I was passing by and couldn’t help but hear…do you need help?”

Spencer.

You shiver. You pull on your sweater as if you can squeeze warmth out of it.

“I’m-I’m fine Spencer.” And just like that, the portal closed. You detached. If you could get him to leave quick enough, maybe you could touch it again– actually have a chance at feeling it. Releasing it.

Oh, why did you have to go to therapy?

“(Y/N)? You’re definitely not fine, open up.”

“Spencer, I’m…” You shut your eyes tight. “I don’t want to worry you, so you should just leave.”

His scoff cuts through the mahogany door. “I’m not leaving you. You’re not okay.”

“Spencer, please.” You wipe snot from your nose on your sleeve. Like a toddler. “Leave, please, I just want to be alone.” You beg.

“I–” A dart of hope cuts through your heart. He sighs. “I don’t believe you.” It’s dashed. “Please, let me in, let me help.”

You can’t piece together enough words to form a rebuttal. When did you get a rubber tongue?

“(Y/N), I care. I’m your friend. Let me in.”

You sniffle, a smile tugging at the corner of your lip. He didn’t have to remind you of who he was.

The smile slips away faster than the millisecond it arrived in. You couldn’t do this alone, and he wouldn’t let you.

There was finally someone in your life who wouldn’t let you.

“You can come in, Spence.”

You stare at his khaki–slacked knees as he slips through the door of the woman’s restroom.

“I think we’re breaking company protocol.” You say to his patent leather shoes.

“For once, I’m putting personal protocol above that.” He says softly. “Letting you cry in the bathroom alone is against my protocol.”

You close your eyes. “I think I’m damaged goods.”

“I think you’re way too harsh on yourself.” He pounces.

You open your eyes. “I don’t know how to feel things.” You croak.

“You know more than you know. That’s how the greatest intellectuals feel when they touch feelings. You’re not alone.”

You scoff. “Am I some great intellectual?”

“Stop that.” He cuts in. “You know you are.” He crosses the Rubicon between you, the tips of his toes stopping centimeters from yours.

“I’ve been there. You have never been alone. And I’m here. To hold this with you.”

You meet his eyes. They’re soft and cold with worry yet there’s a warmth– like the warmth from the taste of home baked cookies. You feel it in your bones.

“To hold this with me?” You ask.

“To hold this with you.” He affirms.

For the first time in a long time, the cork pops from the bottle in the pit of your stomach.

You speak.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fandom

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archangeldyke-all · 3 months

Note

HIIII. I’m gonna like try one last time to make a request cause I understand you said there’s something up with your inbox and idk if like tumblr keeps eating mine but anyways—

How about sevika with a reader who’s fucking hilarious/super nice and makes her laugh but when it comes to actually being alone with sevika they are horrible at eye contact and are like supppperrr shy and embarrassed.

Especially like during their first time together (✂️✂️), THE GIRL CANT EVEN SPEAK.

I wonder if sevika would be patient- or if she would be the one to say she’s inlove first.

Idk but it’s up to you to answer this so ofc as alwayyyssss I hope you have annnn amazing day!

tumblr always manages to delete the cutest fucking suggestions thank u for sending this in again omg

men and minors dni

you're the life of the fucking party. no matter you go, you manage to make a friend. you've always got people laughing, you've always got a funny story to tell, and you can keep a conversation with a brink fucking wall. sevika thinks you're fucking amazing, the funniest person she's ever met.

she also thinks you hate her.

when you're alone with sevika, you're completely silent.

she thinks you've got something against her, and she's desperate to make it up to you somehow.

which leads to her being extraordinarily nice to you. which only leads to you being more awkward and standoffish around her.

you can't fucking help it. she's the most attractive woman you've ever met, you just can't help how tongue tied and shy you get around her.

it takes you guys a long fucking time to figure it out.

six months-- six months of sevika being incessantly nice to you, and you basically being silent to her-- and sevika finally gets fed up.

"look-- i don't know what i did to you-- but can you please just fucking tell me so i can figure out a way to make it up to you?" she asks one night at the bar. ran just left-- leaving you and sevika to sit in the typical awkward silence that follows the two of you around.

you blink at her. "what are you talking about?" you ask. she groans.

"oh for fuck's sake! you never fucking talk to me! i've seen you hold conversations with toddlers longer than you hold conversations with me! i don't get it! what did i do to you that makes you so fucking quiet around me?" she asks. you blink again, embarrassment creeping up your spine.

"y-you haven't done anything--"

"--oh bullshit--"

"--except be very attractive." you finish. sevika freezes, your sentence catching up to her. you bite your lip. "you're... incredibly hot. it... kinda makes my brain... mush." you finish.

sevika blinks at you in shock for about five seconds, before a cocky smirk ticks up at the corner of her mouth. "is that so?" she asks, sitting back in her seat and eyeing you in an entirely new light. you gulp.

"shut up." you mutter. sevika chuckles.

"oh... this is fucking amazing." she says, grinning at you.

the first time you guys fuck, you keep trying to hide your face behind your hands. sevika fucking loves it, laughing down at you and smacking your hands away as she grinds her cunt against yours.

"show me that pretty fuckin' face, baby." she says. you whimper.

"s-sev." you whisper. she chuckles.

"fuck happened to you, huh? where'd all those words go? y' were talking up a storm earlier to silco-- makin' fun of me all night long-- what happened?" she asks.

you just whine. she laughs evilly, then ducks down to press her lips against yours.

she never stops teasing you about your uncharacteristic shyness around her. ever.

even when you're trying to tell her you love her.

"w-would you stop looking at me like that?" you ask. sevika smirks. she's got you on her lap, her hands on your waist. you had told her you wanted to tell her something important, and she had sat the two of you on the couch like this, as if her thumbs drawing circles on your hips wouldn't distract you at all.

"keep going... 'we've been dating for a few months now'...?" she prompts, starting where you had left of before she started smirking at you like that.

"w-we've been dating for a while and i-i wanted to tell you that..." you trail off again, your eyes locked on where her tongue is licking across the top row of her teeth as she grins.

"that?" she asks. you sigh shakily, and sevika chuckles.

"you're a fucking asshole." you mumble. she bursts into laughter and darts forward to kiss your lips.

"ouch, babe." she says. you roll your eyes at her. "you shoulda told me that before we spent so much time together-- woulda saved you a whole lotta trouble."

"fuck off." you grunt. she pinches you hip and you huff.

"c'mon, tell me." she says. "i'll stop." she promises, miming zipping her lips shut. you roll your eyes at her and look away.

"i love you." you mumble.

sevika's quiet for a moment, and you gulp. then, her finger is under your chin, guiding you to look back at her.

she's grinning, and your anxiety melts away.

"i love you too." she says.

your stomach does a somersault, and you lean forward to bury your face against her shoulder. "oh fuck." you mumble. she chuckles, her hand coming up to rub your back.

"you're so fucking cute it kills me a bit." she says. you huff against her.

"i hate what you do to me." you groan.

"oh yeah? because last night you seemed to like it quite a--"

"shut up sevika!" you cry. she just laughs.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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neongreenllama · 4 months

Text

Prompt: Snow

@wolfstarmicrofic - 788 words

(we are pretending it's still december and this is not Very Late)

cw grief

Remus put on the kettle, like he did every morning. He pulled out two cups and put in teabags.

It was quiet in the little cabin, like every morning. One would think a toddler of seventeen months of age meant a lot of screaming and laughing and crying and general ruckus, but an almost eerie silence had enveloped the cabin like a dome. The lights and cheer from the distant outside hadn’t reached it; everything inside was dim and muffled as though moving through cotton.

Remus lifted his heavy arm through the cotton to turn off the kettle and pour their tea when Sirius spoke.

“Snow.”

His voice was slow to travel through the silence and when it reached Remus it was barely audible. There was a time when they had spoken every morning; Remus couldn’t even remember what of. What was ever so interesting about another day, another breakfast, that there was anything to say about it? Was it once brighter, his chest lighter?

“Snow,” Sirius said again from far away but Remus’s brain couldn’t push the cotton away to understand what he was trying to say. “Remus.”

At his name Remus did hum distractedly to signal that he was listening while he put sugar in his tea and stirred.

“Snow. Look.”

A hand grabbed his shoulder and twirled him around in the direction of the window.

And by Merlin, it was white.

It took him a few seconds to catch up.

“But we don’t get snow here.”

The Coast of Wales was not like Hogwarts. Snowfall was rare, and especially this much.

Sirius had picked up the toddler and carried him to the window so the boy could look outside. His little hand pointed at the whiteness outside and Sirius did the same.

“Look, that’s snow. It snowed last night.”

Harry put one hand in his mouth to chew on it and pointed again with the other.

“Yes. Snow,” Sirius repeated patiently, used to not getting a reply.

“’ow.”

Sirius’s head shot around to look at the toddler.

“Snow,” he repeated.

“’now.”

Remus had to blink back tears while Harry started to wrangle around in Sirius’s arms, trying to reach for the window.

“Outside? You want to go outside, play in the snow?”

The toddler didn’t speak again but his movements made it clear he wanted to get closer to the white stuff.

He helped Sirius pack the little boy up in warm clothes. Once they were done, he looked more like a starfish than a 1.5-year-old. Sirius put a heating charm on him.

And then Sirius led Harry outside and the boy made a step in the snow. And then another. And then he insisted on walking without Sirius’s help and fell immediately, but his godfather was by his side to brush the snow out of his face and help him back up.

This went on until Harry was babbling words and grabbing at the snow and Sirius’s smile was as bright as he couldn’t remember seeing it for months.

“Here.” Remus moved to their side. “I’ve got him.”

Sirius gave him a brief look of thanks before taking a step back and transforming into Padfoot, resulting in a loud “Paddy!” from Harry.

The massive dog licked Harry’s face before bowing down and then running off through the snow. They watched him roll around in the snow, bite it and jump to catch the flakes out of the air.

Whenever the boy called for Paddy and tried to get to him, Padfoot was already by his side, sniffing him and licking his face while the boy was trying (and failing, with his mittens) to grab his fur. He’d stay and then run off again in a display of energy Remus only now became acutely aware of having missed for so long.

After having gone off in a whirlwind again, Padfoot reached the shed. There was some banging and growling and Remus was almost ready to take out his wand and fight when Padfoot returned, pulling an old sleigh backwards.

He helped him put Harry securely on the sleigh and harness Padfoot up front.

Then he sat back and watched Padfoot pull the sleigh around in the snow, while keeping his wand at hand to make sure the screaming and giggling Harry didn’t fall off.

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a smile.

He took off his glove to touch the cold snow. He felt his own body warm against it as it melted in his hand. The toddler’s laughter and Padfoot’s barks filled out the silence. He thought about hanging up the fairy lights and decorations they kept in the shed.

Perhaps they would be okay for Christmas. Just the three of them.

#wolfstarmicrofic #snow #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar raising harry

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appalamutte · 1 year

Text

you’re sixteen-years-old, moseying through your local bookstore when you come across it.

you’re not usually into nonfiction, especially not memoirs, but the man on the cover is familiar. laughing over his shoulder with his eyes closed, relaxed in a turquoise button-up and jeans, standing with his back to the camera at a counter cluttered with leafy vegetables and mixing bowls.

from seeds to supper, the title reads, and his name is eric bittle-zimmermann.

you deliberate for a bit, picking it up and reading the blurb, the reviews printed on the back sleeve, the first page. the very first words of the book are hey, y’all! and your friend walks over at that point, and they see him and say—“oh, i used to watch some of his videos.”

so you buy it, because your friend said you should, and later that night you’re already deep into the stories of peach cobbler recipes and learning how to differentiate between living and surviving when they send you the link to the guy’s old youtube channel. it hasn’t been active for a few years, but that doesn’t matter because oh my god are there so many videos. years of videos, almost a decade’s worth, starting all the way back in the early 2010s and you get sucked into them all, laughing at the funny ones and tearing up at the emotional ones, watching as the guy slowly grows up from high school to college and beyond.

you switch between reading the memoir and watching the videos over the next few weeks. you see his video on introducing his boyfriend and you read the chapter on maple-crusted apple pie and how learning to love is a lot like learning to lattice a pie, slow and patient and sometimes messy.

you see his cooking challenge video featuring all of his friends from college and you read the chapter on homemade bagel bites and how family doesn’t have to be a four-course meal you’ve had reservations for all your life. sometimes, family is just frozen bagel bites and sriracha sauce crowded around an uneven table.

you see his two-part wedding vlog posted in 2019, nearly 10 years ago, and you read his chapter on red velvet cake and how the brain can get confused, something to do with all the nerve endings getting tangled up, because when love reaches the same heights fear does, you end up fainting into your then-boyfriend’s arms.

then, you see his final video on the channel, a farewell to his subscribers and a glimpse as to what’s next. it’s short and simple, just his husband and him sitting on a couch together, a toddler between them. and you read the last chapter of the book on chicken tenders and how a seed in the garden never knows it’ll grow into a supper worth loving. it just knows it’ll grow into something, and that the growing takes time.

(a few years later, when you’re twenty and in college, you’re downtown with some friends and come across it. you still aren’t into nonfiction that much, but that one memoir always stuck with you, sitting on your shelf back in your dorm. and this one, with the guy’s back to the camera, tall and steadfast, standing in the middle of an ice rink, an emboldened number one across the back of his jersey. the name is familiar.

melting ice, the title reads, and his name is jack bittle-zimmermann.

you pick it up.)

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #zimbits #my writing #yeah i like to think they’d have matching memoirs #bitty’s is released a year after he ends his youtube channel and right before he gets picked up by the food network #and jack’s is released a year after he retires

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simply-ellas-stuff · 2 months

Text

Having a discussion about twilight and how it's not okay that Renesmee bites Jacob in Breaking Dawn. This person I am discussing this with has said they think it's cute of Ness to bite Jake. So now I come to tumblr for opinions.

These are my opinions on how i see the situation if you'd like to read those before or after giving me your opinion;;;

A] Not even human toddlers are allowed to bite people. Even if the adult can handle it. It's rude of parents to allow their kids to do shit like that.

B] Renesmee has a full set of teeth and a brain that is much more developed than normal toddlers, almost to (or is) that of an adult. Therefore her biting Jacob is about 30x as bad as when a human toddler bites someone and she's doing it maliciously because she's not getting what she wants instead of using her powers or words.

C] It is Bella and Edward's job to parent Renesmee, why are they allowing her to bite Jacob but then telling her she's not allowed to bite Charlie. But then in the same scene as saying she can't bite Charlie, giving her permission to bite Jacob? Isn't that just shitty parenting in general?

And my biggest point: It's horrendously racist for Smeyer to write about Jacob being a literal chewtoy for a vampire baby of the family that literally and purposely fucked up the tribe Jacob comes from.

#Twilight #twilight breaking dawn #breaking dawn #The Twilight Saga #The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn #Bella Swan #Bella Cullen #Edward Cullen #Edward Masen #renesmee cullen #Jacob Black #Renesmee x Jacob #Jacob x Renesmee

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gaybananabread · 4 months

Note

Hey! Could I get a ATSV fic, with lee!miguel, and ler!peter b, with a side of cherries? Could I also get a receipt? (/j)

Fruit(s): Cherries

Oooooh these two! Tired “old” men club time! I’m gonna be entirely honest, a pic on Pinterest inspired this entire thing. Got an idea and abselutely ran with it aghshrara… YEAh I’m not running off much sleep but eh. Sorry for any characterization goofs; my brain is fighting existence. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Miguel

Lers: Peter B. Parker, brief Mayday

Summary: Peter brings Mayday to the base for the twenty-millionth time, letting her wander around Miguel’s office. Turns out the beefcake is her favorite thing to climb on. When the young spider girl reminds him of one of Miguel’s quirks, Peter makes sure the grumpy old man has a laugh.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

If there was one thing Peter did that got on Miguel’s nerves, it was when he let his kid wander everywhere like she owned the place. He had already made sure it was fine for him to bring the toddler around, but the solemn man never could’ve predicted just how often that would be. As in, he never saw the middle-aged spider without a baby carrier strapped to his chest.

Besides the obvious safety hazards, it tugged at Miguel’s heart strings to see the little girl running around. She was so happy, so care-free, so full of life… He couldn’t help but reminisce. For anyone who doesn’t know Miguel, let me explain: when he reminisced, he was a grumpy, angsty bastard.

That day was one of many where Peter brought Mayday to the base, the red-headed toddler zipping and twipping around Miguel’s office. The boisterous father greeted Miguel, a wide smile on his face as he showed Miguel many repetitive pictures of the kid that was literally two feet away from him. Still, he managed to bite his tongue, only looking down at the phone with an unamused frown.

“Oh, oh, you’ve gotta see this one; she’s so focused! I knew she’d love those- uh… Miguel, c’mon. You look like I’m holding you at gunpoint to watch paint dry.”

Peter lowered the phone, his hand moving to rest on his hip as he viewed Miguel’s tired face. He just scoffed, giving Peter a look that said “I’m so done with you” to the max. “Peter, the kid is right there. I don’t need the digital scrapbook experience.”

Mayday chose that moment to swing over to the two men, landing on Miguel’s shoulder and swinging her tiny feet. His heart both filled and squeezed at the sweet action.

Rolling his eyes, Peter put his phone completely away. Scrapbook… He’d have to remember that one, even if it was just sarcasm.

“I’m not asking you to jump for joy at every photo. Just crack a smile or two, ya grump!” He tried poking Miguel’s side, only to get his wrist snatched and a deathly glare shot at him. Peter quickly retracted his hand, holding both up in surrender. Mayday giggled at the silly exchange, her beanie sliding as she wiggled about.

The toddler used her powers to stick to Miguel, crawling across him because she could; toddler logic doesn’t need to make sense. She was just having fun! The tot shivered, the cool air of the office sending goosebumps across her skin. Mayday grabbed onto his side, snuggling into the warm crook of his arm.

Miguel huffed when he felt the small girl on his side, trying not to smile as he grabbed for her. She whined, using her powers to stay stuck on him. Not wanting to hurt Mayday, he sighed and turned back to Peter. He motioned towards his side, a restrained look on his face. “Little help here?”

Peter chuckled, seeing his daughter snuggle up to Miguel. “Nah, you seem all good. She’s just snuggling with you, what’s up?”

He glared at his friend, though there wasn’t much he could say. There was no way he was gonna admit that her small hands were tickling him; Peter would never let him live it down. He scowled, instead choosing the “be an asshole” route. “I don’t want your kid climbing on me. You have a baby carrier for a reason; use it.”

Seriously? Peter rolled his eyes, looking at his daughter. She seemed so peaceful, all cozy against Miguel’s side; he felt bad moving her. Still, he had to respect Miguel’s wishes, even if they were cruel. “Fine, fine! Don’t get your fangs in a twist…”

Walking over to the grumpy spider-man, Peter reached out to grab his daughter. She whined, clinging tighter to Miguel’s side and nuzzling her fuzzy head against his ribs.

A short huff escaped the stoic man, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. He squirmed, finally grabbing onto the small child and trying to tug her off. “Maldita sea- Peter, grab her!”

“Hey, language!” His voice sounded…giddy? What was…oh. Mayday was tickling him. She was grabbing his side and brushing his ribs. “Awwww, Miggy! Is little Mayday-”

“Don’t.” Miguel gave Peter the fiercest glare he could manage, though it was put off by the ghost of a smile on his lips. There was no way in hell Peter was gonna back off after that.

Shooting forwards, Peter grabbed Miguel’s arrm, shooting a web up and restraining it. The big man would’ve thrashed and reversed their positions, but he didn’t want to risk hurting Mayday; he was pretty much screwed.

Peter wasted no time; if Miguel gained his footing, Peter was so done for. The man grabbed Miguel’s side, spidering his fingers against Miguel’s stomach. The man bit his lip, trying both to keep Mayday secure and hold in his giggles at the same time.

“P-Peter, I swehear- GYAH!” Miguel jolted as he felt a squeeze to his hip, almost dropping his hold on Mayday. Peter smirked, leaning forwards and continuing to mess with Miguel’s hips. “Oh, sorry Miguel. Did that tickle~?”

That little… Peter was so dead when he got out of that. Much to his dismay, he could feel a red hue burning on his cheeks as he laughed. “PEHETER! IHI’M GONNA- MIERDA!” Trying to keep a steady hold on Mauday while having his hips squeezed was a lot harder than he thought it would be…

“Miguel, c’mon. There’s a kid right here, watch your mouth.” Peter was only half-faking his exasperation. True, he was kinda being a jerk, but Mayday didn’t need to learn how to cuss in any more languages.

Mayday giggled, feeling Miguel’s chest shake as he laughed. She was used to her dad being silly, but Miguel? Never, ever had she heard him laugh like that. Wanting to join in on the fun, she copied her dad, squeezing and scribbling on his ribs.

While there was barely any pressure, her tiny hands still tickled. Miguel jerked, losing his grip on the girl in surprise. Mayday wasn’t even phased; she just hung on with her powers, Mayday giggled at his squirming, thoroughly enjoying herself in the silliness.

Peter kept watch of his daughter in the corner of his eye, making sure she wouldn’t fall. Miguel probably wouldn’t kill him. It was all in good fun, and he neecded a laugh anyway. Sure, his revenge would be…interesting, but it was worth it.

“Wow, look how red you are! I thought Miles was resident tomato face, but looks like you’re givin’ him a run for his money~” Peter continued to tease his friend, knowing his comments would get to the man. It was too easy to tease Miguel like this; later was what most people worried about. Peter had no fears, though; Miguel wouldn’t kill him…probably.

“SHUHUT UHUP!” Miguel twisted and tugged at the webs, nearly breaking through them. He could only take so much of the other man’s silliness. “PEHEHETER! GEHET OHOFF MEHEHE!”

While he could tell Miguel was getting sick of him, Peter wasn’t quite ready to stop. The blush on Miguel’s face was quite endearing, only egging the father on. True, he couldn’t control it, but eh. “I think I just got a new favorite color! Miguel’s-blush red~”

The angsty spider growled through his laughter, already plotting his revenge in his head. Mayday laughed, deciding she’d played around enough for one day. The girl climbed off of Miguel, using her small webshooter to sit on a ledge and watch the goofy old men interact.

The moment Mayday was safely off him, Miguel turned the tables. He yanked his wrist free from the webbing, grabbing Peter and pinning him to the wall. It was almost scary how fast that man could recover… Peter went to make a joke, though it died in his throat. “Hey, at least…buy me…ehe. Uh, truce?” He gulped, looking at Miguel’s smirk and determined eyes. Eugh boi… Still blushing, though.

“Es hora de morir, Peter~” Before Peter could protest any further, Miguel dug his claws into the man’s stomach, squeezing and scratching the squishy flesh. Peter shrieked, not at all prepared for his due penance.

Mayday watched as they messed around, giggling and tilting her head. She had grabbed her dad’s discarded robe, snuggling up into it and getting warm. Those two would likely be at it for a while, and she was more than happy to watch the two laugh. Silly boys…

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