#sorry it took me a minute to get to this i was sleeping! <333

[incognit0slut]

i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333

tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3

Home is whenever I’m with you

Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words

He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.

But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.

“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."

You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.

And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.

And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.

What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 

Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.

His mom is safe.

A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.

That’s good to hear. Is he fine?

Not great, but he's managing.

That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.

You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.

Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.

And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck

“Spence, what are you—”

Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”

“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”

You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

“How’s your mom?”

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”

Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”

He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.

“Do you want anything? Water, food?”

He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”

"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”

You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”

You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”

"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."

He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”

He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.

“You grew out your facial hair.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."

“Really?”

“It’s growing on me.”

His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.”

"Why would you think that?”

He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”

You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”

You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”

He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”

You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”

He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."

He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.

“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”

You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.

“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”

He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.

You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.

You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.

Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.

[steddieas-shegoes]

hiii not sure if you’re still taking requests but

no upside down au where teen single dad steve approaches eddie after hellfire bc every parenting stuff keeps mentioning how reading to babies is super important for their development but his dyslexia makes reading so hard let alone be expressive w it too and the kids keep mentioning how eddie is amazing on dnd. eddie is skeptical cause how come no ones has heard of king steve’s one year old ? but he accepts when steve offers paying but after seeing steve w his baby and understanding how he changed he refuses the money and cue them slowly falling in love and becoming a family <333

Sorry this took *checks watch* like 9 months to finish! I kinda took some creative turns, but it's done!

read on ao3

rated t | 5,182 words | no cw | tags: mostly fluff, single parent steve, not canon compliant, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Early August 1985

“Steve, it’s not like he’s gonna fuckin’ bite, dude,” Dustin said from the passenger seat.

“Language.”

“She’s not even awake,” Dustin whisper yelled. “I promise he’s cool. The worst he’ll say is no. It’s not like he’s gonna bully you.”

“No one else knows I’m asking him this, right?” Steve was suddenly worried that all the kids knew about Steve’s learning disability and they’d think he was actually stupid and-

“No, it’s just me. But if you don’t hurry up and go in before everyone else gets here, they’ll find out.”

Steve glanced in the backseat, smiling to himself at his sleeping daughter. She’d been out for nearly the entire drive from his house to Dustin’s to the high school, so she’d probably be waking up within the next 20 minutes and she’d be ready to stretch her legs.

She was a squirmy thing from the moment she figured out how to scoot around the floor, and it only got worse when she learned to walk at 11 months. The only time she was still and staying out of trouble was when she was asleep.

“If she starts crying, just sit back there with her. She just likes having company,” Steve reminded him as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Yep. I’ve literally babysat for you before. I can handle her for 5 minutes.”

“Attitude.” Steve shook his head and opened the door, getting out and only closing the door most of the way so it wouldn’t wake her up.

Eddie always showed up 30 minutes early for Hellfire Club to set up according to Dustin. He took this club very seriously, even as a third year senior. He kept it running all summer so that incoming freshmen would have time to get acquainted with his style of DMing or whatever.

Steve respected the dedication, though he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that dedication were put into his homework, he would’ve graduated in May with Steve.

But Steve couldn’t actually judge. Not with the fact that he was pretty close to not graduating himself. He had a pretty good reason, but still.

The auditorium door closed loudly behind him, making him jump and clench his jaw painfully.

“Door’s broken. You gotta hold it while it closes so it doesn’t slam,” a voice said from the door to the backstage area.

Steve squinted through the semi-darkness and felt his stomach turn. Eddie.

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had to open it. Figured they would have fixed it by now,” Steve replied, walking closer to the guy he needed to talk to.

“No shit! Is that King Steve? In the flesh?” Eddie’s dramatics were endearing, even if it was slightly annoying that he pulled out the stupid high school nickname he’d lost well before he graduated.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. This wasn’t gonna go well.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but none of your precious kiddos have made it yet. It’s still early.”

Steve nodded. “One of them’s sitting in my car in the parking lot. Um, Henderson? He’s an incoming freshman.”

“Ah. Dustin’s got a place in Hellfire if you’re worried. I don’t turn anyone away who wants to be here.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Steve needed to just spit it out. “He said you’re like, great at storytelling or whatever. Like you’re the best DM he’s ever seen and he knows I could use those skills for something.”

“Oh? What could Steve Harrington need DM skills for?”

“My daughter.”

The silence following his confession was louder than the door slamming only a minute ago.

He probably could’ve revealed his motives a little better, work up to the fact that he even had a daughter maybe. Very few people actually knew, and he had to keep it that way until he could leave his parent’s house.

“Your…daughter.”

“Yes. She’s just turned one and the doctors said reading to her is like, super important for learning words and helping her learn how to have an imagination and stuff. And I do read to her!” Steve suddenly felt worried that Eddie would think he was a bad parent. “I try to. But I’m, well, Nancy says it’s dyslexia? So words are kinda hard and it gives me a headache if I try to read for more than a few minutes and I’m so busy focusing on the words I don’t think I’m making it very fun for her-“

“Woah. Steve. Slow down.” Eddie braced his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter. Does anyone know you have a daughter?”

“The kids do, yeah. My parents do because they kinda helped cover it all up and made sure I still graduated so I didn’t embarrass them or whatever.” Steve looked down at the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t really want to go through the whole thing with this guy. “Robin Buckley knows? She’s my best friend. The Byers and Wheelers, Hopper. Some teachers know but were sworn to secrecy.”

“Huh.”

Steve looked up to see Eddie stepping closer to him, soft smile on his face.

“So what do you need me for exactly?”

“Dustin said you’re really good at telling stories and I figured maybe you would be willing to read to her? Not every day, like I can work with your schedule or whatever. Evening would be best for me, but it’s not really a big deal if it has to be other times. She comes to work with me so if it had to be during the day, you could sit in the office or something, I dunno.” Steve shrugged. He hated asking for help. But Dustin insisted Eddie was actually a good guy and would keep his secret. No one who saw her at work assumed Steve Harrington was a single parent at 18. That would just be absurd. “I just don’t want her to miss out.”

Eddie’s hand drifted down his arm, holding his hand for a moment before he stepped back.

“My schedule is kinda random. But I’m sure we can work something out.”

Steve’s shoulders fell as his body relaxed. “Yeah? I can pay you. Not much. My parents mostly cut me off.” Steve was scrambling. “I can give you gas money and stuff for having to come to us. And like, food? I can cook.”

Eddie’s eyes were intense, watching his every move, making him nervous.

“How ‘bout a free trial? I’ll do it for a couple weeks and then we can see about payment.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah. Cool.” Jesus, he was embarrassing. What happened to his charm? “Would you be able to start soon?”

“Normally, I’d say I can come by after Hellfire, but I have an…appointment right after tonight. I can come by tomorrow?”

Steve smiled. “Tomorrow’s good. I work until five.”

“I can be at your house by seven.”

“Great! I have plenty of books. Right now, she’s really into Old Macdonald, but I think it’s just because it sorta sounds like her name and we get to make silly noises,” Steve smiled to himself, not seeing the way Eddie was smiling too. “I think she’ll probably like whatever you read to her, though.”

“What’s her name?”

“Mackenzie. Robin read it in a book and said it meant fire-born or something? It sounded cool. We call her Mac or Kenzie for short so she hears Macdonald and thinks we’re giving her another nickname,” Steve laughed. “Anyway, I better get back to the car. If she’s awake and Dustin has to deal with her crying for too long, he gets an attitude.”

“Mackenzie. I like it.” Eddie nodded once. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

Steve agreed and waved, turning around to leave. By the time he realized Eddie’s nickname for him, Eddie was already backstage.

****

Steve was nervous.

He nearly burnt the chicken he was cooking for dinner just from getting distracted by thoughts of Eddie being in his home.

He didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the fact that he’d always thought Eddie was kinda rough around the edges and was surprised he’d agreed so easily. Maybe it was bringing someone new into the small group he’d had around for a couple years. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s hand on his shoulder seemed to leave a permanent mark despite being one of the softest touches he’d felt from another adult in a while.

Mackenzie was in her high chair already, eating some of the noodles he’d made as a side. She’d been practicing using a fork, so quite a few had fallen on the floor, but Steve still smiled and told her she did a great job any time she managed to get one to her mouth.

The doorbell rang and Steve felt his heart stop.

“Daddy!” Mackenzie squealed when the bell rang. She knew that usually meant Hopper was here. Everyone else just came inside on their own. “Hop!”

“No, baby, not Hop. Not tonight. It’s my friend, Eddie. He’s gonna tell you a fun story, okay?” Steve ran his hands through her hair as he walked by to get the door.

When he opened the door, Eddie was standing there with a handful of books, a box of crayons, and what looked like a hairbow.

“I’m here to entertain the princess!” Eddie exclaimed. “Lead me to her highness!”

Steve couldn’t hide the grin on his face if he wanted to. “She’s currently trying to stab noodles to death. I’m sure you’ll be entertained.”

“Ah, they must have wronged her. I’ll assist,” Eddie made his way past Steve, walking towards the kitchen.

Steve knew he’d been to a couple of the parties he threw to sell, but had no idea he remembered the layout of his house. Maybe he had one of those picture minds.

As Steve entered the kitchen, he noticed that Eddie had set down the pile of books on the counter before he sat down in front of Mackenzie.

There were a few books he recognized: an ABC book that he was pretty sure he’d had when he was a kid but had since lost, a book of fairy tales with Rapunzel on the cover, something by Beatrix Potter, and a couple of coloring books that featured princesses and dragons and horses.

“She isn’t really old enough to color, is she?” Steve asked, interrupting what must have been a very amusing conversation of mostly babbling. “I don’t have any coloring stuff.”

“Coloring with skill? No. She definitely doesn’t have the motor skills to color in the lines or even use the right colors for the right things. But it does help her learn how to hold a crayon. My uncle couldn’t really afford much when I was a baby, so for every Christmas until I was in school he would get me new crayons and coloring books. I don’t really remember how I did, but I do remember having fun.” Eddie turned back to Mackenzie. “And sometimes it’s fun to just make a mess, right?”

Mackenzie clapped her hands together, sending the toddler fork she’d been using to the floor with a noodle attached to it. Steve wordlessly grabbed one of her spoons from the drawer and gave it to her, kissing the top of her head before he knelt down to pick up the fork.

Eddie watched silently, something soft about the way he didn’t interrupt anything even though he could’ve kept talking.

“I made chicken and pasta. It’s probably not my best work, but I made enough for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” Steve offered as he walked to the stove to start plating the food for himself.

“I wouldn’t turn it down. Wayne’s not exactly known for serving five star meals,” Eddie joked. “He believes in the power of fried bologna and cheese sandwiches with a bag of chips.”

Steve grimaced. “Okay, well I made enough for you to bring home some leftovers too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re taking home leftovers.”

Steve turned to see Eddie’s widened eyes and open mouth that slowly formed into a smile.

“I guess I’m taking home some leftovers.” He turned to Mackenzie and tickled her neck. “Your daddy is pushy isn’t he?”

Steve blushed, but continued making up a plate for Eddie.

As they sat and ate, Eddie talked about all of his favorite books for little kids, and how he remembered sneaking into the library after school for years because he knew he didn’t wanna go home. He talked about the first time a teacher wrote a positive letter home, an English teacher who said his fictional essay was the best in the class and he should consider writing as a career. He even talked about his plans for the school year campaigns, but made Steve swear not to mention anything to the kids.

“I’ll know if you tell them,” Eddie winked.

Steve believed him.

When they were done, Steve grabbed Mackenzie from her chair.

“I’m gonna give her a quick bath if you wanna bring all that stuff to her room. Second floor, third door on the right. It’s a little messy right now. Someone decided to pull all her toys from her box yesterday and I haven’t had time to clean it up,” Steve tickled Mackenzie’s side, making her giggle and turn her head into his shoulder.

“You need me to clean this up?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the table.

“Nah, I’ll do it while you read to her.”

Despite his efforts, bath time was never truly quick. Mackenzie loved to splash around and play with her toys, and if he tried to wash her hair too quickly, she would be grumpy for the rest of the night. He definitely didn’t want that for Eddie.

He set a timer for 10 minutes and tried to explain to a very excited Mackenzie that when the timer went off, it would be time to wash her hair and get out.

“You wanna have time to play with Eddie, so we can’t play for too long in the water.”

She didn’t seem to pay any attention to him, already too busy making her rubber duck fight with her mermaid Barbie.

He observed while she played, bringing in the rubber car she liked to pretend to drive on the side of the tub.

When the timer went off, she let him wash her hair without a fuss, and he quickly wrapped her up in a towel to get her into pajamas.

Eddie was waiting in her room when he got there, coloring books spread out on the floor. He smiled up at them from where he sat, legs crossed, hands in his lap.

“Squeaky clean?” He asked, waving at Mackenzie.

“Definitely lacking noodles in places noodles shouldn’t be at least,” Steve said, making his way to her changing table to get her dressed. “She must be pretty excited about you being here. Usually bath time takes at least 30 minutes and I have to bribe her with chocolate milk to get out.”

“She knows we’re gonna have a lot of fun. I think I’m gonna read Goodnight Moon first. That’s one of my favorites.”

“She’ll love that,” he said as he buttoned the snaps of her onesie.

As soon as he set her on the floor next to Eddie, she reached for a coloring book with a mermaid on it.

“Daddy! Muh!”

“Yeah, baby, it’s a mermaid! Just like your doll in the bath.” Steve pointed to the fish next to the mermaid. “And that’s a fish. Fish swim in the ocean.”

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him while he pointed to some other sea creatures and told Mackenzie what they were.

Eventually, he looked over at Eddie, blushing at the soft smile on his face. “What?”

“You’re a really good dad, Steve.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Steve felt heat flood his body.

It’s not that no one had ever said that to him. Robin had told him plenty of times, Joyce had whispered it to him when no one else was paying attention, even Hopper had given him a handshake and said he was doing a good job once. But hearing it from Eddie, in this situation, when he’d been feeling like such a failure lately, was enough to make him want to cry.

He had to get out of this room.

“I should go clean up and leave you to it.”

“Sure, yeah. We’ll be right here.”

Steve booked it out of the room, rushing down the stairs to try to get busy with cleaning before his brain settled on crying over a compliment.

But the table was cleared. The high chair was wiped down. When he turned to the sink, the dishes were stacked up to dry in the rack. The counters were wiped, the dish towel had been put back on the handle of the oven to dry, and leftovers had been put in a container to finish cooling down.

Steve let the tears fall.

Fuck it, if Eddie was going to be this nice, he could have a little cry.

He walked quietly to the bathroom to put all the bath toys in the basket, but stopped outside Mackenzie’s bedroom when he heard giggling.

He’d closed the door halfway, just so she wouldn’t get too distracted if he walked by the room, but he couldn’t help looking in.

He felt like crying again when he saw Mackenzie sitting on Eddie’s lap, pointing at something in the book.

“Where’s the moon?” Eddie asked.

“Moo!” Mackenzie said, smacking at a place in the book.

“There’s the moon! Good job, little one.” Mackenzie leaned back against Eddie’s chest. “And where’s the…toys?”

She pointed again, but slightly less enthusiastically. Steve could see her energy dropping quickly.

He watched as Eddie told her she did a good job again and then continued reading.

Her eyes drooped more with every page. Eddie’s voice got closer to a whisper with every sentence.

Steve fell just a little bit more with every second that passed.

*****

October 1985

Eddie came every day. Despite the fact that Steve insisted he didn’t need to, that he didn’t want to ruin his schedule, Eddie showed up like clockwork at seven every single evening.

Steve learned to expect him, always made enough dinner for all of them to enjoy before Mackenzie had her bath and then got to read with Steve.

Every night, Eddie would clean up while she took a bath, and every night, he’d let her pick a page to color while he read something to her, switching to a bedtime story when she started crawling into his lap.

Steve would watch them often, laying down on the carpet and smiling as he listened to Eddie use different voices for characters, asking her questions so she was involved, and whispering when she started to drift off.

Other times, he’d try to get something done he’d been putting off, like cleaning the bathroom or folding laundry.

Eddie never accepted payment.

Steve tried bringing it up once school started, certain that this time spent here could’ve been better spent on homework or a part-time job that paid better than what Steve could offer. Eddie just shook his head and insisted that other than Hellfire every Thursday, he would be there for free.

They got to know each other over dinner, and Steve found that he was right to have butterflies every time Eddie smiled at him, every time he would touch his hand as he walked by to say hi to Mackenzie.

“Halloween costume ideas?” Eddie asked with his mouth full. Steve had given up long ago on trying to get him to wait until he was done chewing. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “What did this little miss go as last year?”

“Oh. She was a bumblebee.” Steve smiled at the memory. “Cutest costume I saw all night.”

“I bet.” Eddie took a sip of his water. “And you?”

“Oh, I didn’t dress up.”

“What? Why not?” Eddie sounded genuinely upset.

“Just got away from me, I guess? By the time I thought about it, nothing good was left at the store,” Steve shrugged, unbothered. He’d never been that into Halloween. His focus was making sure Mackenzie had fun.

“And no one offered to help you make something?” Eddie was no longer eating and Mackenzie had turned her attention to him when his tone became serious.

“I didn’t ask.”

“But no one offered.” Eddie stood up and walked over to his backpack. “Okay, we’ve gotta plan. Did you already pick something for her?”

He came back holding a notebook and a pencil, brows set in a straight line. Steve had never seen him look so serious.

“I had a few ideas, but I wanted to let her pick something at the store,” Steve said.

“Lay them on me.”

They discussed costumes for the next 30 minutes, but after only 10, Mackenzie whined to get out of her chair. Eddie wordlessly stood up and picked her up, setting her in his lap and letting her poke and prod at him and his notebook.

Steve watched them both, accepting for the first time that this wasn’t just a crush that was gonna go away.

He’d fallen completely head over heels for Eddie, and he had no clue what to do about it.

*****

November 1985

Steve was the only one who had space to host Thanksgiving.

He became manic a week before, realizing that his work schedule would not allow him to have much time to clean unless he did it at night. The problem was that he would get a migraine if he didn’t sleep.

“So let’s work on it together. I can come right after school. Cancel Hellfire this week,” Eddie offered.

“But you already won’t have it next week because of Thanksgiving. I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. If I’m gonna be eating here, I should probably help clean up at least.”

So they worked on a little at a time.

Eddie wasn’t always helpful, getting distracted by some of the smallest things. But his company was appreciated all the same.

“You could invite Wayne, ya know,” Steve offered while he dusted the shelves in the living room. “Plenty of room and food.”

“Thanks, but he always works Thanksgiving day for the double pay. We usually do something the day after,” Eddie answered while he cleaned up all of Mackenzie’s toys.

“If he decides not to work, just let him know.”

“Will do, Stevie.”

He didn’t just help clean, he helped him do the shopping, too.

“I know it’s way harder with a baby, so if you give me a list, I can handle the shopping,” Eddie said while Steve plated their dinners.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. But I can and will.” Eddie’s hand brushed against Steve’s lower back. “Let me help.”

Steve could barely resist the shiver that took over his entire body.

“Okay. Sure.”

Some of the brands were wrong, and he forgot the apples for the apple pie, but Steve still felt immense relief knowing that he had someone to help.

And without it, Thanksgiving would’ve been a disaster.

It was still a bit of a mess, but that was mostly because the kid’s table turned into a food fight that Max started and Mackenzie, of course, continued, until everyone was involved.

But the picture Jonathan took would get framed and hang up near the fireplace in the living room anyway.

******

December 1985

“I cannot believe you waited until Christmas Eve to wrap gifts. That’s not what parents actually do, is it?” Eddie asked as he fought with the tape dispenser for the fifth time in less than an hour.

“I don’t know if I’m the best judge of what parents do. Mine weren’t around much and probably didn’t even wrap my gifts themselves.” Steve took the tape from him, pulled some loose from the roll, and handed it back. “But I kinda always pictured it like this.”

Robin made him swear he’d talk to Eddie about his feelings before the end of the year. The end of the year was soon, real soon.

What better shot did he have than while Mackenzie was asleep and they were wrapping presents together?

“You pictured last minute wrapping with bribed help in your living room?” Eddie asked, amusement in his tone.

“Not exactly,” Steve huffed out a laugh. “More like spoiling my kid with someone I care about.”

Steve watched Eddie’s hands freeze against the clothes box full of new finger puppets they’d both gotten her. He looked over and felt his stomach swoop as Eddie’s eyes found his.

“Stevie-” Eddie set the box down and turned to face Steve.

“Wait, I just. Before you break my heart, hear me out.” Steve already felt his world shrinking, his heart rabbiting in his chest at the thought of losing Eddie entirely. “I’ve spent a lot of time with you for months. Like, more than almost anyone else. I’ve watched you with Kenzie, and how much she loves you and always asks for ‘Ed’ even when it’s way before when you’re gonna be here. You make me smile and laugh and that’s not always easy to do these days. You helped me when you didn’t have to, when you had absolutely no reason to trust that King Steve was a better person. You’re there for all the other kids even though you’re trying to get through school for real this time. I didn’t really plan a big speech, sorry. This is just rambling, I’m doing what Robin does.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie placed his hand on the side of Steve’s neck. “I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?”

“I think so.” Eddie stepped in closer. “But I think you might just be lonely.”

It stung. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it still hurt to think Eddie thought so little of him.

“I think I know how I feel.”

Eddie’s hand dropped from his neck and he took a step back. “I don’t wanna argue, Stevie. I just think you might need to separate yourself from the situation. I’m just always around, ya know?”

“You’re always around because I want you around!” Steve was just a bit too loud, but he knew Mackenzie was a heavy sleeper. “When you aren’t here, I check the clock to know when you will be. I get excited to leave work now because I’m not coming home to do the same thing I always did before. I get to see you and hear about your day and talk to you about mine and see you with my daughter, who probably loves you as much as I do.”

“You…love me?”

“Yes. I do. And I promise it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I still want you here, reading to Kenzie. But I know how I feel. I know why I feel the way I do. You can’t tell me how to feel.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” Eddie sighed. “I’m just kinda surprised. Didn’t expect you to be into guys, let alone me. I’m not exactly good boyfriend material. Or stepparent material, either.”

“Oh, fuck that. You’re more her other parent than her mom ever was. She gave her to me the moment she had her and wished me luck before her entire family moved across the country.” Steve felt tears in his eyes. “I trust you. I want you around. I love you.”

Eddie swallowed, eyes pointed towards the carpet.

A minute passed, two. It was rapidly approaching awkward when finally Eddie spoke.

“But I’m so bad at wrapping presents.”

Steve snorted, but felt relief wash over him. “I can do the wrapping. This Christmas, next Christmas, as many Christmases as you’ll stay.”

“All of them?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve leaned in slowly, let his hands grasp at the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer. “How many Christmases do kids usually believe in Santa?”

“I dunno. I stopped believing when I caught my dad stealing the two presents under our tree when I was four.” Eddie let his hands fall to Steve’s hips. “But something tells me the little princess will be a believer for a while. Better get used to me ripping holes in the paper and using too much tape.”

“Think I can handle it.”

Every time Steve had pictured kissing Eddie before this, he’d thought it would be like any other first kiss, maybe a little awkward since it was his first with a guy.

Instead, it was soft, sweet, slow, perfect. He’d kissed a lot of girls in high school, had kissed them well. Not all of them were great, but even a less than good kiss was still decent.

This was more than any other kiss he’d ever had.

Eddie held him like he would never let go, like this kiss would last forever.

It couldn’t, but that’s how it felt.

When they finally pulled apart, Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You wanna stay tonight? We can both do the Santa gifts with Kenzie before all the kids bother us,” Steve asked.

“I should call Wayne. I told him I’d be home by midnight.”

“He can come over in the morning, too,” Steve said. “If you want.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for Wayne? He can be a little…gruff.”

“I’m not worried,” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Hopper’s basically my dad. Plus, Mac’s got a way of breaking the tough old men down.”

“Bets?”

Steve pulled away and started wrapping another present before he got too distracted. “I give it ten minutes.”

“Oh, how generous. I’m giving it five.”

They both laughed as Eddie decided he’d be more help putting already wrapped presents in her stocking and under the tree and making sure everything was put away when Steve was done.

And for the first time, Eddie stayed the night, holding Steve against his chest while they slept.

They both cried when Mackenzie opened her presents excitedly. She was too little to do it herself last year, so seeing her tear through the paper and find joy in throwing it around the room was like a dream come true for Steve.

Eddie admitted he felt like he was intruding for some of it, but Steve quickly reminded him that he was the first person she toddled over to with her new set of princess books and said “Ed, read.”

She sat in his lap right then, even though she still had quite a few presents to open, and he read every single book to her, making her giggle with his high-pitched voices for the princesses and silly accent for the prince.

By the time the kids were coming through the front door, Steve was rushing to shush them, pointing at the couch where Eddie was passed out with Mackenzie curled up against his side.

Steve was never happier than in this moment.

Until the next one, and the one after that.

[ghostheartfelt]

Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for  the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure 

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another. 

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives. 

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours. 

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest. 

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat. 

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.” 

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost 

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart. 

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver. 

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes. 

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours. 

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.  

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this. 

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home. 

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat. 

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.” 

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days. 

All you do is work, eat, and sleep. 

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably. 

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell. 

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you. 

“There’s someone else.”  His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off. 

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog. 

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up. 

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately. 

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now. 

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face. 

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you. 

You just wanted him home. 

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore. 

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind. 

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away. 

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest. 

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door. 

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water. 

She’s showering. 

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside. 

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice. 

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs. 

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation. 

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine. 

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table. 

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly. 

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs. 

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs. 

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice. 

“Does wh–” 

“Does she know you are here, Simon.” 

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together. 

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern. 

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed. 

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains. 

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head. 

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance. 

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…” 

“Please…never do that again.” 

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs. 

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent. 

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt. 

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed. 

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud. 

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?” 

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you. 

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you. 

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger. 

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck. 

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. 

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.” 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists. 

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach. 

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…” 

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.” 

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him 

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.” 

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you. 

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.” 

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs. 

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him. 

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…” 

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind. 

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?” 

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.” 

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge. 

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted. 

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…” 

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion. 

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.  

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k words

warnings: explicit language, a lil bit of angst w/ a wholesome ending<3

summary: in which you and steve take a late-night trip to your favorite diner

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

It was four long hours of your life that you’d never get back. But, you were glad that all of the work that you had to force yourself to do all night was finally over. 

It was somehow always in moments like these— where you procrastinated until the last possible second to do something that had been assigned weeks ago— that you sincerely wanted to drop out of college; and you’d barely even been there three months. But you also knew that you definitely could not do that because of your parents. 

So, instead of even pondering that thought too much, you pushed through and forced yourself to start and finish a project for your Psychology class that involved a shit ton of writing and research. It was a project that now made your head pound heavily in your skull from focusing on that one tedious thing for hours upon hours. 

With a loud sigh, you closed the books you had open and then stood up from your desk. A part of you wanted to immediately flop onto your bed and fall asleep, but then there was the other part that wanted to do something else entirely. And then suddenly the thought of the diner that was only ten minutes away and had amazing milkshakes became the only thing on your mind.

You switched out of the wrinkly old t-shirt you had on and put on a different oversized one that was less wrinkled, and then slipped on a pair of sweatpants. Steve was sleeping right then, you were pretty certain of it, but you still wanted to give him the opportunity to partake in this impulsive late-night decision you were making. So, when you exited your room, you headed toward his and walked in. 

You refrained from turning on the light because you didn’t want to startle him awake, and instead simply sat down on the edge of his bed and lightly poked his back before whispering, “Hey.”

He only shifted a little bit and didn’t turn to face you. “Hm?”

“I just finished my stupid fucking midterm project for Psych and I’m going to the diner because I’m in dire need of a strawberry milkshake. You wanna come?” 

“It’s one in the morning,” He mumbled, still barely moving and you weren’t entirely sure how he was actually able to be so accurate with what time it was. 

You took his response as his way of saying no without actually saying it. And honestly, you weren’t too surprised by that answer because it was then that you remembered that his shift at Family Video earlier had been longer, and apparently more annoying, than usual. So, you decided not to try and further convince him to come to the diner with you. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in an hour,” You said as you got up from his bed. “I’ll bring you back onion rings and your own milkshake. You can have it for breakfast when you wake up.”

“I’ll come,” Steve said before you left the room. He finally shifted around and sat up so that he was facing you. “The onion rings will suck in the morning.”

“Very true,” You nodded and then smiled as he got up and found a random hoodie to put on. “I’m sorry for waking you up, but I’m glad you’re joining me on this little adventure.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You drove Steve’s car, because you liked driving it more than your own, and he slept the entire ten-minute ride to the diner formally known as “Third Street.” The name had always been somewhat amusing to you because the small place was actually on a street called Cliffview. 

It was empty aside from one man sitting at the counter with a coffee mug in his hand and a woman occupying a booth, reading a book with a soda and a plate of fries in front of her. You briefly wondered what their stories were, what brought them to a diner at nearly one-thirty in the morning. 

You and Steve took your usual seats at the booth that you always sat at, and even though Robin and Eddie weren’t there at that moment, you two still decided to sit on the same side of the booth; it felt like second nature to do so. There was probably never a moment where you and Steve didn’t sit on the same side of any booth.

Since there was barely anyone in the diner right then, your orders were quickly taken by your waitress Cheryl, and they came out much faster too— a strawberry milkshake for you, a vanilla one for Steve, and a plate of onion rings for you two to share. 

You took a long sip of your drink and internally sighed in contentment because somehow that milkshake made all the work you’d done and the fact that you were keeping yourself awake to come here even though you were exhausted completely worth it. 

The two of you ate and drank your milkshakes in comfortable silence for a little while before Steve scooched down a bit in the seat and leaned his head on your shoulder.

“I actually am really sorry for waking you up,” You told him. “I forgot how long your shift was today, and I know you’re so fucking tired right now.” 

“The onion rings and milkshake make it okay,” He mumbled, and you couldn’t see him, but you had the strongest feeling that his eyes were closed. “Tell me about your project.”

You reached for your drink, taking a sip from it before responding. “Hearing about that will definitely put you to sleep.”

Steve hummed. “Maybe I wanna hear a bedtime story.”

You laughed a bit. “Okay, well in that case, definitely not because I don’t wanna get dirty looks from the other people in here when you start loudly snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Mhm, yeah, of course, you don’t,” You said, the sarcasm completely evident in your tone, and he poked your side which made you laugh again.

You placed your hands in the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing because they were cold from you holding your glass. “Okay, this has nothing to do with that dumb project… But, um, how mad do you think my parents would be if I dropped out of school?”

Steve’s answer came immediately. “They would blame me somehow and kill me.”

“That would quite literally never happen,” You said with a shake of your head. “My parents love you too much to be mad at you for longer than even an hour.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe that’s true. So, instead, they’d actually kill you, and then that would suck more for me than you because I’d have to live without you.”

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” You said with a small laugh before grabbing an onion ring.

“But, anyway, you’re not quitting school, so this hypothetical situation doesn’t matter,” Steve told you and then lifted his head off of your shoulder so that he could take a quick sip of his milkshake. “You were barely able to convince them that you didn’t want to go to the University of Chicago. I think they’re still somewhat in mourning over that.” 

Probably from the moment you became old enough to even think about college, your parents were pushing the idea of the University of Chicago onto you. Both of them had gone so it felt like the obvious choice for you to “follow in their footsteps;” well, the obvious choice mainly in their eyes. And for a while, you were okay with going in that direction because it felt like an easy option, and you were way too fucking smart not to get in, and when January rolled around you found out that you did. 

But then the thought of leaving Indiana, leaving your friends, leaving Steve, became something that no longer felt “okay” to you. And then there was the fact that you were still completely unsure what you even wanted to do, so it felt dumb to you to go to a school that was really good and really expensive without a solid “plan” for your future.

However, your parents were way too persistent and strong-willed to let you give it up that easily. So the compromise that was ultimately settled upon was that you’d do the two years of community college here at the one close by and then you’d transfer to the University of Chicago and finish your last two years there.

At first, the thought of that felt fine to you, but now it felt like something that you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to do anymore, even though it was still basically two years away. 

“Sometimes it just feels like a waste of time,” You said with a small sigh. “I still haven’t found that thing yet. My thing. What I wanna do.”

“You’ll find it.”

“Maybe it would be a good thing if I did quit, though. I could work at Family Video with you and Robin. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yeah, it would be,” Steve nodded. “But, you don’t really wanna do that.”

You started picking at the now half-eaten plate of onion rings that sat between you two. “Technically, that’s true. But, that’s only because I don’t know what I wanna do at all.” 

“I think you just gotta give it some time. You’re way too smart not to be in college right now. One day you’ll walk into some class and it will all just suddenly click into place for you,” He told you, and he sounded so certain and sure. 

Somehow his encouraging words always managed to placate your thoughts; the type of existential thoughts that would usually only happen in the middle of the night. And you were glad that you had Steve to pull you back up before you spiraled harder. 

You let his words sit for a second before you slipped out of the booth and went over to the counter, smiling at Cheryl as you paid the bill. When you went back, settling in your spot next to Steve, he slung an arm around your shoulders. 

“If you did actually quit school, I’d fully take the blame and let your parents kill me,” He told you.  

You knew that you weren’t going to do it; you’d never be able to muster up the courage to pull the trigger. Therefore, you would instead just continue to live in this awkward phase that felt weird at times and hope that it would eventually work itself out. 

However, it was still nice to hear Steve’s words right then. 

“Thank you,” You responded, smiling at him and then mimicking his words from earlier. “But if you did that, then I would be the one suffering more because I’d have to live without you.”

He nodded thoughtfully at that. “Okay, new plan then. We just let them murder both of us.”

You laughed a bit as you pushed yourself even closer to him, putting your hands into his hoodie pocket once again. “Deal.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[greg-montgomery]

hiya!! this is my first time doing a request or anything like that buttt i wanted to ask if you could do one where the team is put up in a hotel for the night, everyone is sent to their own separate rooms but hotch called them in to his room bc he had some last minute thoughts about the case, right before they all go to sleep and y/n shows up in a cute sleep set and everyone is like oh but don’t say anything. they talk about the case for a bit and slowly everyone heads off one by one leaving aaron and y/n but plot twist she’s been quiet bc she snoozed off in the seat in the corner. aaron wakes her up and she apologizes, they start talking a little and she realizes how tired he looks and she idk gives him a massage on the shoulders, it can have innuendos in there but i mostly want her to take care of him, maybe they fall asleep together or something fluff it up plss 🫶🏽

hii!! <333 you're so sweet for sending to me your first request!! i'm sorry it took me a thousand years lmfao i really really hope you like it!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

With your eyes shut and both of your fists rubbing your eyelids softly as if they could take all the tiredness away, you weren’t able to see the looks your current outfit had earned you.

It wasn’t your usual attire for when discussing an unsub’s profile, but Hotch was the one to blame. You were getting ready for bed when JJ knocked on your door and announced that your boss wanted all of you urgently in his room. If he wasn’t your absolute soft spot, you’d be very pissed off about it.

Aaron seemed to have some new ideas about the case, and since the man apparently never slept, he thought all the rest of you would have the same energy as him. And maybe he wasn’t that far off for the others; but you were extremely tired, running only on three hours of sleep.  So you just chose the comfiest looking spot on the couch of Hotch’s room and snuggled with two of the pillows you found there, simply observing the conversation that was taking place and only jumping in for a comment or two. It was already an achievement for you managing to stay awake for an extra hour.

Or so you thought.

“Y/N…” a gentle voice whispered your name. “Y/N…”

The hand on your shoulder shaking you, just as gently, suggested that said voice was trying to wake you up. But you were so comfortable and so sleepy you chose to ignore it. The whispers were lulling you back to sleep anyway.

Before you managed to drift off completely again, the hand moved to cup your face. A thumb was rubbing your cheek as the voice talked to you again. “You’ll hurt your neck.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and slowly blinked, finding the figure of a man sitting next to you. “Hotch?”

“Hi,” he chuckled. “I thought you’d never wake up.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you rushed to apologize. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

“That’s alright.” He smiled at you.

Aaron was right about the neck thing, you could already feel the pain growing and you used your hand to massage it as you switched to a more appropriate sitting position on your boss’ couch.

“I tried to warn you,” he said, lifting his brows. “I wake up sore from every single jet nap.”

“Yeah, I noticed you couldn’t even turn your head when talking to us the other day,” you giggled.

“Don’t make fun of the elderly,” he scolded you. “I’m actually suffering from the pain."

“I’m sorry.”

You were still laughing so Hotch didn’t look entirely convinced by your apology. “Yeah, I can see how much.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you repeated more seriously this time. There was a short pause before you spoke again. “You know…I have a friend that’s a physiotherapist and she’s taught me how to relieve neck pain. I could give you a massage. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

He looked surprised by your offer and you worried you overstepped.

“It’ll be my official apology,” you added.

You saw him letting out a heavy sigh and got yourself prepared for rejection, but instead Aaron nodded, “Sure, why not?”

“Nice!” you clapped twice, hoping you didn’t seem overly excited at the thought of touching him that intimately.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t fixated on his large body and broad shoulders. So placing your palms on his toned muscles had your heart racing to the point you were scared he could hear your heartbeat.

Aaron’s heavy breaths when you started massaging his neck sent sparks all over your body. You wondered if he sounded like that during other moments in his life and you had to shake your head to send all the inappropriate thoughts away. Still it was next to impossible not to drool over him; touching him and watching him so up-close.

“Is that nice?” you asked.

“Mhm…”

“You have to be careful of how your posture is when you’re sleeping though. You warned me about it, but won’t do the same for yourself.”

“Maybe we can remind each other,” he suggested.

“Well that sounds like a good idea, but sadly we’re not always together when we’re sleeping.”

“Sadly, huh?”

Your hands froze on his shoulders and you could feel them shaking as Hotch started laughing.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said, covering your face embarrassed.

“I know,” he reassured you with a small laugh. He reached out behind him for your hands as his head fell slightly back to make eye contact with you. You were still covering your face, so he grabbed your wrists gently and moved them down. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, I’m embarrassed.”

He used his grip on your hands to drag you next to him so he could look at you properly. It didn’t need much effort on his side to make you take a seat by his side. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because you’re Hotch.”

“And?”

“And it’s self-explanatory. You either get it or you don’t.”

“I see.”

You sat next to each other in silence for a bit. Embarrassed or not, you didn’t want to go. This side of Hotch was very rare to be seen, and you felt grateful you got to witness him like this for once. You weren’t ready for it to end.

“Should I go?” you asked hesitantly.

“Do you wanna go?”

It took you a few seconds to reply, trying to make up your answer. You chose to be honest. “Not really.”

“Then stay.”

“I might fall asleep on your couch again,” you warned him.

“Hmm…there are worse things that could happen to me I think,” he said holding back a grin, and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against his chest.

You couldn’t agree more.

[flyinghassassin]

Bed is comfy

Summary:You have to get up but you don't want to, the bed is too comfortable. How will your girlfriend get you to leave the bed?

Word count: Around 900

Warnings: none, only fluffy stuff <333

The sun began to stream through the curtains, hitting your face and making you groan.

You moved your body closer to Natasha, who was hugging you tightly, as if she was afraid that you were going to disappear.

"Good morning, detka," she said, placing kisses on your neck.

You groaned again and snuggled into your girlfriend's chest, enjoying the warmth her body gave you.

"I don't want to get up," you said in a sleepy voice.

"But we have to."

You turned around and rested your face on her chest.

"No," you said, your voice muffled from resting your face on her chest.

"Come on, detka" Natasha replied,hugging you tightly, "global threats are not going to wait for us".

"Can't we take the day off?" you whined.

"We already did it last week." "Fury will kill us if we don't show up today."

You grumbled and hugged Natasha's body like a koala bear.

She petted your head and started giving you kisses all over your face.

"Come on, honey," she said, trying to get up but failing in the attempt.

"Now you can't get up," you smiled, lifting your head from Natasha's chest to look into her eyes.

"So you're just hugging me so we can stay home," Natashas said, offended. "What is love?" she said dramatically.

"Oh baby, don't hurt me." you grinned

"Corny," said Natasha.

"Hey!" you complained, pouting.

"Look,detka,I offer you a deal," spoke Natasha, looking you in the eyes. "If you get up and you're quick enough, we'll shower together, and when we get back from work, we'll go to that restaurant you like so much. Deal?"

"Mhmm," you said, thinking, "I'll stay 10 more minutes in bed while you shower and we go to the restaurant."

Okay," sighed Natasha. "Take advantage of these extra minutes to rest," said Natasha, kissing your forehead.

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

After a few minutes, Natasha came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body while another towel was drying her hair.

"Y/N, honey, the bathroom is free."

"Coming"

While you were showering, Natasha got a call.

"Hi Romanoff, Y/N called me earlier to let me know that you had a cold."

"What did you say, Fury?"

"It looks like the cold has hit you pretty hard," he said, laughing. "Don't worry, Romanoff; if you feel better later, try to finish the reports you took with you the other day. Take care, Romanoff."

"Huh, thanks, Fury."

"What did the call say?" You said, coming out of the bathroom, drying your hair with a towel.

"That I had a cold."

"Oh, Natasha, I'm sorry."

"You called Fury to tell him this?" "So we could have a lazy day and stay home?"

Maybe," you said, grinning. "So... we'll stay home, won't we?"

"I guess so," said Natasha.

Great!" you grinned. "Cuddles and binge-watching series?"

"I'm afraid not, detka" said Natasha sadly. "I have a terrible cold. I wouldn't want to make you sick."

"Hey, that's not fair," you pouted.

"Sorry, honey, I think I should try to get some sleep to see if I can get rid of this annoying cold," Natasha said, getting into bed and pulling the covers over herself.

"Get well soon, Natasha."

You huffed and went to the kitchen to get some breakfast and then went to your study to work on Natasha's reports, so that when she "got over her cold," you could be with her for as long as possible.

After a couple of hours, you were finished, and your stomach rumbled.

You went to the kitchen and started to prepare some food, chopped the ingredients, and threw them into the pan.

After a few minutes, you stirred the ingredients with a spoon and put them on a plate.

You placed the plate on the table with the rest of the cutlery and glasses.

Just as you finished, Natasha appeared, rubbing her eyes.

"That smells great, detka. What is it?"

"Nat, honey, this isn't for you." "You have a cold, so I'll make you some chicken soup to help you get better."

"Smart move," grumbled Natasha.

"Don't worry, honey, with this amazing chicken soup I just made you, you'll be cured in no time."

You prepared the soup and put it on Natasha's plate.

"Eat up, honey,it will help you."

Natasha groaned again and started eating the soup while you devoured the food you had made.

When you both finished, you picked up the dishes and washed them, leaving them on the dish rack.

"I'm going to sleep for a while," you said. "Do you want to join me?"

"Okay," Natasha replied.

You got on the couch and hugged Natasha, intertwining your fingers with hers.

"Was the soup good?"

"Sometimes you're such a little shit."

"Oh,but how much you love me in spite of that." you teased.

"I do it with all my heart," said Natasha, kissing the palm of your hand.

"Don't worry about the reports; I already did them so we can have a lazy day."

"You are the best, Y/N."

"I know. Time to rest, Nat," you said, hugging her and nuzzling your head against her shoulder.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[prettyoatmeal]

Love to Hate Each Other (König x Fem!Reader)

Hello!! I promise I'm not dead!!! I've been super busy recently and had some writers block but I'm doing better now!! I'll be finally answering the requests I've had and upload some more from my drafts :)

CONTENT WARNING: Smut <333 Hate sex, unprotected sex, creampie, size difference, enemies to lovers, arguing, pettiness, sexual and non-sexual degrading (receiving and giving).

SUMMARY: You’d been a part of TF141 for a while now as their best sniper, however, it was recently stated that KorTac would team up with you lot for a mission. You’ve been training with him since and got that little bit of extra skill in your possession, you have the upper hand which drives König mad. You were put in charge of him as to test your leadership skills however it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 2926

Masterlist here!

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

The fucking nerve of him. Would it kill him to show you just a little bit of respect? It had happened all too quickly. The way his voice boomed at you could've killed you in an instant. All you could do was think back to the argument.

...

"Can you stop shooting at me for fucking once, König?" You'd sneered at him after getting to the safe house. "I know I'm a better sniper than you but you don't need to be all petty 'bout it." "I'm sorry, maybe if you weren't snooping around and staying at your dedicated post like you were supposed to, I wouldn't have shot at you." He wanted to slam the door but knew better than to create another loud bang, "and you're not a 'better' anything than me, your ego is just too high."

"Oh, really? Then why did YOUR commander put you under my supervision for this mission, huh?"

Those words made let out him growl under his breath. He knew the truth, though he was too stubborn to admit. You had skill, but he just didn't and to give you that satisfaction.

"Forget it, just keep your whiny voice down. Don't need anyone hearing us a mile away." His accent got thicker as he hissed his words out at you. "My voice down? Really? Maybe if you hadn't given our spots away every ten minutes, we wouldn't even need to be hiding here! You ought to fix that little issue of yours.”

And that’s what set him off.

“You know what I think your issue is, little miss perfect? I think your problem is that you’re not ready to being a leader, yet they put you in charge of me anyway and you go along with it, ja?” With each word he spat out, he took a step towards you. “I am fully capable of working on my own. YOU left your post. YOU put yourself in danger. You don’t get to be an incompetent little rat then proceed to blame me for it.”

With large steps he’d leaned over you. His piercing eyes felt as if they'd stabbed you, looking down at you with anger, annoyance, disappointment through his hood. You could hear those words become unfamiliar, fuzzy, distorted. Guilt set in.

"You may be a better sniper than me, but you'll never gain that role of leader. It was a mistake they made to put you in charge of me."

König was never one to take advantage of his height with his teammates, he wasn't like this in general. He had a lot of pent up anger towards you, and by god you were scared out of your mind. But you couldn't show that. Not now, you couldn't let him know how much he frightened you. But he knew. He could easily tell. And so you just stood there with an unchanging composure, taking any of the words he'd hurled at you.

"I don't need someone to tell me what to do, and especially not someone like you. Go sleep your bitchy attitude off, I'll take first watch." And with that, he stormed away from you.

...

The bed was uncomfortable. But you weren't sure if it was the bed or if it was the tension in the room. You couldn't sleep. So you just laid there on your side, the argument rerunning itself over and over and over again in your mind. You were uneasy, on edge around him, even if his attention wasn't focused on you. Just being in the same room as him was enough. Yet you still felt petty enough to need to have the last word.

"You're an asshole." Muttering it out made your heart race, but you couldn't care any less.

The rustling of whatever he was doing stopped and after a while, you heard him let out a groan of irritation, muttering something in German under his breath.

"Will you quit it? It's over and done with. Hush up and go to sleep."

The way he'd growl at you to quit talking sent goosebumps over your body out of fear, yet you couldn't bring yourself to keep yourself quiet.

"No, I'm not going to quit." You'd said as you sat up from that uncomfortable mess called a bed. "You're an asshole. You need to hear that." You'd shot him a look of disgust as his eyes met yours from across the room. The lights were dim, but you could still see him quite clearly. You could feel as the air became thick again, the tension between you two growing once more.

"What are you expecting out of bringing it up again, Miss Perfect?" He'd shot back as his eyes glanced back to god knows what he was that he was doing, you couldn't quite make it out.

You'd yanked your legs over the edge of your so called bed, "I think you're forgetting I'm still in charge of you. I'd certainly accept an apology."

He didn't even look back up at you, it was as if he couldn't care any less.

"For what? Hurting your feelings?" He teased.

"You were extremely disrespectful and-"

"And nothing. Go back to sleep." He’d groaned, feelings of annoyance filling his system. Cutting you off just like that. But you were taking none of it.

“What is your problem with me!?" You'd stood up, making your way over to where he was sitting. Your own lips curled to a snarl, pointing fingers. "You have no reason to be so pissy with me, I've done nothing to you!"

This wasn't a common occurrence. Not for you. But he'd really ticked you off. König was being difficult, and you were too, but that didn't take away from the fact that you had no idea what he was so upset about with you. What he was REALLY upset about with you. As terrified as you may be by the hunk of the man, you weren't going to let yourself be demeaned by him.

You could see his eyes narrow at your words. His figure rose, towering over you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt your knees getting weak at the sight of the beastly stature leaning towards you.

"You really want to get into this, sweets?" Hands on his hips.

"I'm not going to let myself be degraded by you! Let alone someone I'm supervising."

And so you stood there, staring each other down. The tension was thick enough to cut with scissors. König, the very person you'd been training with for the past few weeks, standing over you for the very sake of intimidation. You'd almost thought he'd raise a hand at you, but you knew that he'd known better than to do such a thing. The person you'd become good acquaintances with staring down at you, seething, fury in his eyes.

"You want to know why I'm so upset?" jabbing his gloved finger at your chest, he took a step which caused you to take one back. He leaned down, making sure you'd hear every last word which escaped his mouth. "You know how much it kills someone when someone has the skills with a sniper you could only dream of? When you've been in the game for longer than you could imagine, and some little girl who's barely been in the game suddenly has the upper hand."

You couldn't believe it. Your eyes softened for a second before your expression had contorted again, taking a hold of his wrist with an iron grip and pulling it away from your chest.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you sighed, "this whole time your problem was THAT!?"

His eyes stayed focused on you with no sign of leaving.

"God, I hate you so fucking much." You snarled with a sick chuckle. This whole argument could've been avoided.

"The feelings' mutual, Schatz."

His face was so close to yours, you could practically feel his hot breath through the hood he had been wearing. Your hand was still latching onto his wrist, though your hand was starting to give in from putting all your pressure into your grasp.

You had nothing else to say, so you stayed silent. You both did, eyeing each other down to the core. It took a good while before you two had taken glances to the side where you held his wrist put. It seemed you'd both had the same idea as your grip loosened before he mirrored your wrist with his, taking your wrist into his palm. It fit perfectly. The way his hand could so easily wrap around it, taking a tight hold. It made your knees weak.

Your breathing quickened as you kept your eyes on his. The tension continued to thicken, though not just anger this time. There was something else filling the air. The feeling of that intimacy lurked around you two. It was too intimate for your liking, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Your cold eyes glanced back to König's, but he wasn't looking at you anymore. No. His attention was centred on your lips. Fuck. You knew what would be coming next.

One minute, you two were ready to tear each other's heads off, the next, you two were making out. His lips against yours, hungry. Starving. Forceful, but not, both at the same time. The way his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, before he made you take some steps back enough for your calves to hit the frame of that pitiful thing you have been calling a bed.

You pulled away to catch your breath, a string of spit still connecting you two before the fabric of his masked fell to cut that string apart. He'd pushed you back as if he was in a rush, like if he was catching a train in an hour, lifting your legs so they'd wrap around his hips.

"If you really hated me, you wouldn't let me all up on you like this." He let out a sly chuckle as his hands pinned your wrists to you sides.

"Shut your fucking mouth and keep kissing me." You ordered, looking away from him in a bashful manner.

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied as he guided your hand to push the fabric of his mask away, revealing his lips once more before they crashed against yours. You both needed to let off some steam, it seemed that this was the most efficient way for the two of you.

You let out a small whimper as König began to move his hips against yours, grinding against down onto you. It wasn't long before he'd removed your trousers and pushed his middle finger inside you. He'd sucked on it a little beforehand to coat it with saliva, but it wasn't like it was needed anyway. You were practically soaking by the time he'd pushed it in, and it wasn't long either until he'd begun to curl his finger inside you which made you whimper at the feeling. He felt so much better than your fingers alone.

"Look at you, so wet already. Think you're ready for another finger?"

You couldn't help but tighten around his fingers already as he pushed a second finger inside you. You'd muttered a small 'fuck' under your breath at the feeling, earning a small hum of approval from König. His fingers could easily hit against that bundle of nerves. He knew he found it once you let out that cry of pleasure, making him chuckle as he rapidly pressed against the same spot over and over again which made you let out a symphony of moans and whimpers as your wetness grew.

He soon decided you were ready, becoming rather impatient as he'd quickly slide down his bottoms to reveal his growing erection. Your eyes gawked at him for how big he was. How would it ever fit.

"You sure you want to do this? Can't guarantee I'll be able to stop once we're started." His voice was low, the arrogant undertones tied in with the way he spoke irritated you.

You nodded.

With no time wasted, he lined his tip against your pulsing cunt before pushing into you. You let out a long sigh in unison with him as you felt him stretch you out with a mix of pain and pleasure. It wasn't long before he'd started moving in and out of you, and soon your voices filled the room along with the slapping noises of repeated skin-on-skin contact, making your eyes flutter closed as your legs wrapped around him.

The way he moved inside you was different. It felt different. It wasn't like anything you'd felt before. Perhaps hate sex was your new biggest turn on. Oh boy. This definitely wasn't going to be a one time thing. You could already tell.

You could feel yourself getting closer, and you could very much feel the way König was throbbing inside you. The bed creaked non-stop, the room reeked of sweat and sex, with no feelings behind it. Just sex. And goodness, did it feel good. Mustering up the strength, you propped yourself up onto your elbows to take in the sight of the man pounding into you. And like that, your eyes met his once more. Half closed with the slightest distortion, he let out a low chuckle as he gripped onto your wrists once more and pinned them next your head. With a single, extremely forceful thrust, he was able to hoist your hips up further against him, almost like in a mating press. The new position allowed him to hit a whole other region, able to slam against your g-spot over and over again, causing a harmony of whimpers and moans to emerge from your throat which you just weren't able to hold in. You were so lost in the pleasure, as you almost couldn't comprehend what König was speaking. Leaning down to press his lips against your neck, he whispered to you;

"See, Schatz? You're so much prettier when you're not unnecessarily running your mouth."

That stupid nickname. That stupid term of endearment he used on you drove you insane. Well, did he hate you or not? You could never tell. The way his hands slipped upwards, unballing your fists so he could intertwine his fingers with yours, the way he'd pound into you as rough as he could yet he'd still make that time to hold onto your hands, the way his lips would brush over bruise and bite mark he'd leave on your skin. It was all so confusing. So mind boggling. It made you want him even more.

"Y-You don't- oh fuck.. -hold the hand... of the person you hate during sex.." You'd managed to choke out a single sentence between König's thrusts. And he was having none of it.

"Shh, shh.." He'd shush you, "Halt die Klappe, stop fucking talking... stop talking. Keep quiet for me, Schatz." His hips began to slam against you faster, making sure to hit against every nook and cranny inside you. Schatz. That word echoed in your mind.

You were in no room to argue again so you did as you were told, you stopped talking and let your moans continue to spill out. You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm by the second, and it was only a matter of time before he removed a hand from your wrist and moved it between your legs, his fingers moving against your clit in a circular motion. He knew what you wanted, and he was going to give it to you. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. His hot breath hitting against your sensitive, overly bruised neck, the way his fingers circled your plump bud, the way his thrusts felt like there was still no end in sight was all too much.

Taking in a deep breath, you rolled your eyes back before squeezing them shut. You were unable to hold back that loud cry of pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, coming fully undone to those fingers of his. You could feel yourself pulsing and throbbing against his fingers, your hearing gone fuzzy by the time. You squeezed tightly around König's cock, in complete euphoria as he made you ride out your orgasm. Your hips bucked against his as you just barely opened your eyes again.

"Oh, Schieße... (Y/N)!" He'd moaned out as he pulled away from your neck and crashed his forehead against yours, gripping onto the flesh of your hips as he practically pulled you into him with each slam. One more thrust and he'd let out a final moan before filling you up with his seed. There was... a lot. You could feel his cum oozing out of you before he even pulled out.

Your breathing was heavy, both of you coming down from cloud nine. The best sex, and best orgasm, you'd ever had.

"You don't hate me." You were the one to speak first. The fabric of König's mask was pushing up against you every now and again with each heavy breath he'd release, "you don't kiss someone and hold their hands like that when you hate them..."

His eyes opened, staring right back at yours,

"You seemed like the type to need that emotional support, I was simply just trying to provide it."

"So you do still care about me."

He went silent before he closed his eyes again, burying his 'face' into your neck.

"... Halt die Klappe,,"

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

[bella-rose29]

The Greatest Thing - Lockwood x fem!reader

requested by anon: Hi, I love the way you write! I was wondering (if requests are still open) if you could write a Lockwood x reader where reader's mother died when she was little for some reason, and by taking on a case reader and Lockwood find themselves having to fight the ghost of reader's mother ? And maybe even Lockwood calming Reader down after the mission? Feel free to change parts. (btw: sorry if English is terrible, I'm Italian, English is not my native language)

my lovely you don't need to apologise for your English, it's better than a lot of actual English people I know (myself included) <333

sorry this took me so long, but hopefully you enjoy!!

for reference, the song that's mentioned is specifically Nat King Cole's version of Nature Boy from 1948 <3

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: swearing (only a lil), brief mentions of cancer (not explicit though), idk if there's anything else

I did just copy and paste the tag list from DTH part 9 so feel free to not read this if you don't want to! <3

It was nearly one in the morning when the telephone rang. 

This was odd, because the phone had been broken for a little over twenty years. 

It was more sentimental than anything else, and it was kept as a reminder of someone long gone, as was the typewriter that sat on the shelves next to the telephone, on top of the case it came in so that it could be admired. There was a record player too, although that was in perfect working condition, unlike the other two objects. 

The ringing of the telephone woke up the inhabitant of the bedroom, and he groggily rubbed at his eyes as he sat up and turned the light on. The glare made him wince, but when he realised the broken telephone on his shelf was ringing, his eyes shot wide open. He scrambled for the working phone on his bedside table, trying not to panic too much and failing as he punched in the numbers. The line rang three times before someone picked up, and his breathing was shaky. 

“Hello? I think there’s a ghost in my bedroom.”

~~~

“Lockwood? You awake?” Y/n pushed open the door to the library, making note of the dim light that shone under the door. Her voice was quiet, just in case he’d actually managed to fall asleep, but as soon as she stepped inside she saw him sat in his usual armchair with a book.

“Everything alright?” he asked. 

“Not really. Dad’s just phoned me.” She took the chair next to him, watching as he put a bookmark in place and held the book closed on his lap. 

“Ah, that’s who was calling.” He frowned. “You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“He thinks there’s a ghost in his room. Said the old telephone that Mum bought ages ago started ringing just now. He wants us to come and check it out as soon as we can.”

“How do we know it’s not just… someone calling?”

“It’s broken, Lockwood. Has been for ages. Pretty sure it was broken when Mum got it, but she thought it looked nice.”

“Right. Well… you know the house layout, and where things are. And if you’re not too tired… I suppose we could head over now? Only if you wanted. Your father is welcome to stay here if he wants, too.”

“Thank you, Lockwood. I don’t know that I’ll be able to sleep, not knowing Dad’s in danger. And he won’t want to go outside at this time of night anyway, not without a safe route to somewhere else. You sure you’re alright with going on a case now?”

“Of course I am, Y/n. Especially for you.” She tried not to flush too much at how sincerely he had said it and pushed out of the chair. 

“Okay then. I’ll just… go and get changed.” She was still in her pyjamas from earlier. Lockwood was, predictably, in a suit, just without the jacket and tie. She was certain they were a second skin on him now. 

“Meet me by the front door in ten? I’ll get the kit ready.”

“Sure. Don’t forget the biscuits like you did last time.”

~~~

It took five minutes of quietly moving around the attic so as not to wake Lucy for Y/n to get changed. She wasn’t entirely successful in being silent, since the floorboards creaked every two seconds and she fell over trying to get her jumper on because she got stuck inside it and didn’t see the corner of her bed, but somehow Lucy slept through it all. Y/n headed downstairs, wincing when the steps groaned under her weight, and went to find Lockwood in the basement. He was nearly done packing up the bags, and when he caught sight of her his smile was blinding. 

“You all ready to go?”

“Yeah, think so. I’ve been thinking, about what the Source could be?” she said, although her voice lifted at the end to make it sound more like she was asking him a question. Lockwood nodded, zipping up the second kit bag and handing it to her when she reached for it. “I feel like the phone is too obvious, but if it’s some sort of Poltergeist it might be a good idea to check anyway. There’s quite a lot of things that could be a Source, actually. Mum loved collecting old stuff, said it reminded her of her childhood.”

“She wasn’t an agent, was she?”

“No. No Talent. Not with a capital ‘t’ anyway. She was amazing at loads of other things though.” They were in the hallway now, grabbing their rapiers out of the stand. Lockwood shrugged on his coat. 

“What do you know about the history of the house? Any murders or deaths that could result in a Visitor?”

“No. There was Mum’s, but Dad got the place sorted out as soon as he could. DEPRAC came in and cleared the room.”

“Well, we’ll see what we can find, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” she said when he opened the front door and gestured for her to go first. Lockwood must have called a cab, because now there sat one just in front of the gate. “I told Dad to get into the kitchen and turn the table lamp on, ‘cause a couple years ago he got iron strips put in the floor, so he should be alright in there. We can get this taxi to wait for him and bring him here, right?”

“Of course. That was a smart move, both the iron strips and your suggestion. We’ll make the kitchen our main retreat, then.”

Ten minutes later they were pulling up outside her childhood home, and as soon as the taxi stopped Y/n was opening the door and rushing to greet her dad. Lockwood was talking to the driver, paying him for the journey they’d just taken and asking if he might stay a little longer to take a passenger back to 35 Portland Row. 

“Hi, Dad, you alright?” Y/n breathed, wrapping her arms around her father. 

“Been better, love. I’m glad you and your boyfriend are here though.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Dad,” she said, feeling heat creep up her neck. “Lockwood’s my boss.”

“I just thought that since you talk about him all the time, y’know? Lockwood this and Lockwood that.”

“I’m gonna walk away now, I think. Have fun with the ghost!” she joked, knowing that she would never leave her father in a house where there was a possible haunting. “We, uh… we thought it might be best if you went to Portland Row for tonight while we work here. It’s a standard procedure to not have the clients in the house, but normally they’ve got somewhere to go and a bit more notice, and Lockwood said you can take his bed if you wanted. We have also got a sofa, but it’s not nearly as comfortable as a bed.”

“Alright, love. You’ll be alright, just the two of you?”

“Yeah.”

“I take it he’s keeping that cab for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you in the morning, love.” He must have known that she would ask him to leave the house because he reached behind him and picked up a bag, hoisting it over his shoulder and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. 

“Bye, Dad!”

She watched as he sent a small wave over his shoulder, shaking Lockwood by the hand and thanking him for the offer of a place to stay, and then he was getting in the taxi and going back the way that she and Lockwood had come from. 

Lockwood had the keys to the house in his hand, and before he unlocked the front door (her father had locked it when he’d seen the taxi approach) he turned back. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I can do this, Lockwood. For my Dad. Besides, if something’s only just surfacing now from one of the antiques, it can’t be too bad can it? I mean, it didn’t hurt my dad.”

~~~

As it turned out, it was quite bad. 

Not in a holy-shit-this-ghost-will-kill-us way, but more in a holy-shit-why-does-this-house-feel-worse-than-a-graveyard-at-night? way. 

Y/n had grown up in this house, had only really moved out two years ago, and she had never once felt unsafe or uneasy. Walking around it now, though, doing initial readings of sensations and temperature, she wondered how her father had managed to stay positive. Most things she just got echoes of her own childhood, her laughter as she ran through the halls while her parents chased her when she was three, baking in the kitchen and licking the bowl when she was five, crying when she tripped and slid down the last couple of steps on the stairs and grazed her knee at the bottom, and her mother pressing kisses to her hair and a plaster to her tiny injury when she was six. But underneath it all there was a malaise, something unsettling that seeped into Y/n and Lockwood’s bones and made them cautious. 

“Does it normally feel like this?” he asked when they made it to the top of the stairs and around most of the rooms, one hand on his rapier hilt. They hadn’t drawn their weapons yet, but they knew it was only a matter of time. 

“No. Dad would have said something.” The thermometer beeped, alerting them of a drop in temperature. Lockwood checked it where it sat attached to his belt. 

“Minus two. It was three degrees just now.” They stood in silence on the landing, both looking at the thermometer. “Well, only one door left, I suppose. Do you want to do it or should I?”

“I’ll do it.” She made her way to the door of her parents’ bedroom and took a shaky breath before placing her hand on the doorknob. Immediately a rush of memories hit her, from when her parents first moved in after their marriage, to the day she was born in that room, to the countless times Y/n had crept in in the night because she’d had a bad dream, up to the point when her mother had last touched the handle. It went further, but the force of the memory of her mother made her push the door open and step over the threshold. 

Lockwood was right behind her, and she heard him draw in a breath and reach into his coat for his sunglasses. Y/n whipped around to look at him just as he pushed them over his eyes, catching the last of his squint while he warily studied the bed. “Why are you putting those on?”  she asked, not liking the wobble that accompanied it. 

“Death glow on the bed. Are…” he hesitated for a moment, and she imagined his eyes darting between her and the bed behind her. “Are you absolutely sure that your father got the house cleaned out?” His voice was soft, like he was trying to not agitate her too much, but she got defensive anyway. 

“Yes. He wouldn’t lie about something like that, not when he had a six year old living in a possibly haunted house!”

“But… and I’m not doubting you, or your father, I just need to know, were you here when the house got cleaned out after your mother passed?”

“No, Dad sent me to my friend’s house. He said it wouldn’t be good for us to be in the house while they were working.”

“So you never actually saw people cleaning out this place?” She froze, catching on to what Lockwood was getting at. 

“No,” she whispered, turning to look back at the bed. Her mother had died in it over ten years ago from untreated cancer, completely unexpectedly. She’d gone peacefully at least, in her sleep, but it had broken the two members of the family that had been left behind. Her father had told her that he’d call DEPRAC and get the house cleaned out, to keep the two of them safe, but now as she grabbed a hold of the doorknob again she realised there was no memory of people coming in to do that job. “Shit. Shit shit shit shit.”

“Hey,” Lockwood said, sunglasses still perched on his nose. “It’s alright. We’re agents, and we’re Lockwood and Co. I know… I know this won’t be easy, Y/n/n, but we can do this. You can do this. Just breathe in, and back out. Good. Right. Have a think: what in here could be the Source? Hey, focus, Y/n.” His tone grew a little harsher as he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her away from the door. 

“Why wouldn’t he clean the house?” Her breath was coming too quickly now, and her eyes couldn’t settle on any one thing. “Why, Lockwood? Why wouldn’t he do it?”

“Because sometimes we love someone too much to have them gone forever.” Her eyes finally stopped moving around, instead meeting his and making her draw in a breath at the vulnerability in his eyes. His voice had been rough with emotion, and immediately she thought of the door on the landing back at 35 Portland Row. As quickly as he had opened up, his walls had snapped back into place, and he was leaning back and smiling softly at her. “Let’s try not to focus on that too much, yeah? Maybe the phone?” As though he had summoned it, the old telephone on the shelf started ringing as soon as he finished talking. “Okay… that was weird.”

“It’s not even got wires attached to it,” Y/n breathed. 

“Visitor is definitely a Poltergeist then. There’s no apparition which is good, because no ghost-touch. That’s also bad though. No way of really knowing what the Source could be.” She tuned Lockwood out, knowing that he would just be talking himself through the situation they were in, and kept on staring at the telephone. It hadn’t stopped ringing. 

Music suddenly started blaring out of the record player, despite there not being any record to play. It was a song that Y/n recognised, although she couldn’t remember where from. 

“Is that… is that ‘Nature Boy’?” Lockwood asked, glancing incredulously at the record player. 

“Oh my god. Yeah. It was Mum’s favourite song, specifically this version.” Her mother would often be found with it playing on the record player in the study downstairs, and she’d told Y/n the story behind it a million times. She’d been adamant that Y/n never forget the words, and now as it played she knew it was her mother haunting this room. 

“I think it’s broken,” Lockwood said when the song skipped back to repeat the last section of the song. 

“The greatest thing…”

“No, it’s not. Maybe it’s the record player? Maybe that’s the Source?” The music stopped, and she knew she was wrong. “Okay… so the telephone is the Source?” At once the music started again, but from a different point. 

“But very wise…”

“Is… is your mother helping us?” 

“I think so.” 

“… Why?”

“Maybe she just wants to move on?”

“But very wise…”

“Okay this is freaking me out a little bit now,” she said, moving over to the telephone. It stopped ringing when she got close enough to reach out and touch it, and she glanced at Lockwood. “Silver net?” He wordlessly passed her one, his sunglasses still obscuring his eyes. His face was impassive and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, but he was focused on the record player. It had continued playing from where her mother’s ghost had skipped back to help them, and was finishing up the last lines of the song. 

“The greatest thing… you’ll ever learn… is just to love… and be loved… in return…”

The room became silent after that, and both Lockwood and Y/n stood staring at the record player. Nothing moved until Y/n finally broke out of whatever world she had disappeared into, slowly placing the silver net over the telephone and wrapping it carefully. At once the temperature lifted, and just before she had finished containing the Source of her mother’s ghost she heard a sigh in the air, as though someone was finally being allowed some peace. 

“We should head over to the furnaces,” Lockwood finally said. “Unless you wanted to put it in a silver glass case?”

“I’ll talk to Dad about it in the morning.”

“Alright. Here, let me…” he stepped over and gently removed the telephone from her hands. “Why don’t you go and sort out the kitchen, get all our things together? I’ll get a taxi for us.” Y/n nodded, not taking her eyes off of the bundle in his arms. “Y/n?”

“Hmm?” She was unfocused, untethered to this world, and his voice was muffled. She vaguely noted Lockwood putting the Source down and coming closer to her, and then he was hugging her tightly, pressing her into his chest and his lips to her head when she drew in a shaky breath and sobbed. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

She wasn’t sure how long they were there for, her crying into his dress shirt and him rubbing her back and whispering softly to her, but by the time she pulled back, her sobs reduced to slight hitches in her breath, her throat was sore and her eyes puffy. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Y/n.”

~~~

It was nearly three in the morning when the telephone rang. 

This wasn’t odd, because this time it was Lockwood phoning Portland Row to let them know that the ghost had been dealt with, and he and Y/n were coming back. 

Y/n had remained silent for the duration of the taxi ride back to 35 Portland Row, staring out the window with her eyes looking at something that Lockwood couldn’t see. He knew what it was like, to be in her position, but he had no idea how to comfort her other than just being here. She’d gripped him earlier, when they were hugging, like she thought he might be the next one to leave. It had broken his heart and made it swell at the same time that she had held him so tightly, but now he was left to wonder how else he might help. 

She was still silent when they walked through the front door. 

Her father came out of the living room to greet them, and Y/n had frozen, rapier mid-air while she went to put it away in the umbrella stand. Lockwood had put his own rapier away, and the sound made her snap out of whatever trance she had been in and finish her previous action before taking one last look at her father and running upstairs. Lockwood shrugged off his long coat, hanging it on the stand. 

“It was her mother,” he said, looking at the stairs instead of at the man he was talking to. “I think she’s upset that you lied to her, about clearing out the house.”

“I couldn’t-” he broke off, coughing slightly to clear his throat when emotion clogged it up. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“I know.” He could barely look at that door on the landing most of the time. He turned to face Y/n’s father. “But you made that house unsafe. You got lucky. She was a Poltergeist, but completely unaggressive like they normally are. Very lucky, in fact, because there was no chance of you being ghost-touched. But still, you should have told her.” The man nodded, tears starting to fall on his cheeks. 

“I suppose you put the Source in the furnaces then?”

“No, actually. I asked Y/n what she wanted to do, and she said she’d talk to you. You could keep it, so long as it was in a sealed silver glass box. You wouldn’t have to lose her again.”

“That would be great, thank you. Is it safe here overnight?”

“I’ll put it in the storeroom downstairs,” Lockwood smiled, one of his classic customer service smiles, and moved towards the kitchen. “Whereabouts did you decide to sleep in the end? The living room?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Well, goodnight, sir.”

“You’re a good lad, Mr. Lockwood. I can see why my Y/n likes you so much. Goodnight,” he waved, disappearing into the living room and closing the door behind him. Lockwood stood in the hallway, Source still wrapped in the silver net, and tried not to blush too much at the way those words had been said. 

~~~

“What are you doing in here?”

Y/n jumped at the sound of Lockwood’s voice, and immediately felt a little guilty for intruding on his personal space. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t want to wake Lucy up, ‘cause she hasn’t been sleeping well recently, so I came in here. Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” He went to grab his pyjamas, then did a double-take. “Is that my shirt?”

“Oh.” She looked down and flushed. “I didn’t… I forgot that by not going up to the attic I wouldn’t have anything to sleep in, so… yeah.”

“Oh.” 

She wished he would say more, because his gaze was as heavy as the silence that settled over them after that single syllable. 

“Lockwood?”

A pause. “Yeah?”

“I can leave-”

“No!” He swallowed thickly, then repeated himself. “No. I mean, no point waking Lucy up, is there? I’ll be back in a bit, just… going to go get changed.” She watched him leave, and then five minutes later she watched him come back. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding anything but. He looked… nervous? Why the hell was he nervous? “You?”

“I’m alright.” She tried not to laugh, settling for an amused smile instead, and waited for him to get into bed next to her and turn off the light. Once it was dark (or as dark as it could be with the ghost lamp outside the window), she heard him shuffle around in his bed so that he was facing her. The outline of his face was barely visible, but it was enough that she could make out where his eyes were, and where his faint smile was. “Lockwood?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For earlier.”

“I already told you, anytime.” They went quiet, just enjoying the comfort of Lockwood’s bedroom. “I talked to your dad, by the way. He said he didn’t want to lose her again, so I’ve offered to sort out a case for the phone in the morning. I also told him off for lying to you, which terrified me, because your dad is not a small man.” Y/n let out a snort at the last part, and she saw the faint light from outside light up Lockwood’s teeth as he grinned. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did. Back at the house, you were… well, I’m not really sure what you were. But you weren’t you, and it scared me. It’s like you went somewhere else, Y/n. I just can’t lose you, is all.”

“Oh.” Now it was her turn to not say much, and she could feel him fidgeting. 

“Your dad said something. About you.”

“What? What did he say?” Her heart was beating faster, not knowing if he’d said something good or bad. 

“He said that you like me a lot.” Now her heart was thumping for a different reason. 

“Well, yeah. It’s difficult not to like you, Lockwood, you’re a very likeable person, you know? Very-”

“Why are you nervous?”

“What?”

“You’re talking really fast. You do that when you’re nervous. Why are you nervous?” Damn him for knowing her so well. 

“Uh… I just… I don’t know.” She did know, but how could she admit to her boss that she had the biggest crush on him while they were lying in his bed together?

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have- it just sounded like he meant it in a… in a like like way.” She took a deep breath, and decided to bite the bullet. At least if it was dark she couldn’t see his face when he rejected her. 

“He did. I… I’ve liked you for a while, actually.” There was no response, and suddenly it all seemed like a terrible idea. “Lockwood?”

“How long?” There was no discernible emotion in his voice. 

“About two years?”

“So… since you got here?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“You’re telling me,” he started, frustration seeping through, and she shrunk in on herself a little. “You’re telling me that we could have been together this entire time?!”

“Yeah, I guess so. Wait,” she frowned, “wait what did you just say?”

“It took us removing your mother’s Source from your childhood home and your father telling me that you really like me for this to happen?!”

“… Yeah?” She heard him bring his hands up to his face and groan, and then heard him shuffle around again. A moment later his hand was touching hers, tentatively at first, then lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her closer to him when he realised he’d found her. She ended up curled into his side, her head in the crook of his neck, and his arms wrapped around her torso under the duvet. 

“Well I know you’re free after we wake up, so right after we get the glass case sorted out I’m taking you out for food.”

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like that.”

It wasn’t long after that that the pair of them fell asleep, and before she drifted off in Lockwood’s arms, she couldn’t help but think how her mother had been right about loving and being loved, and how it was the greatest thing in the world. 

tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @magicandrosewaters

[luveline]

jade my darling, could i please request the bf that is fred weasley looking after r with an ear infection? it could be muggle OR modern!au and not in the asf universe but up to u <333 i just need comfort from my freddie because i am in immense pain with a probable ear infection (spoiler: it sucks!)

sorry this took me those two days sweetheart i hope you're doing better now!! asf fred x fem!reader

"My mum said I should give you mudwort and lavender tincture," Fred says. 

"Both sound awful," you mumble, laying on your back on the sofa, hands held out to take his as he approaches. He tried to make you chew mudwort this morning, you vehemently denied it. 

Fred looks bitten by the cold, though he's barely been gone for ten minutes. Quicker to go see his mum and ask for a solution than pen a letter and wait for her to get it. He crouches down next to you and feels along your forehead with his cold fingers, a nice relief. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

"I'm okay, please don't make me take mudwort." 

"No, I won't," he assures you. He's wearing a frown, the 'my heart is so broken for you' expression he actually lets you see these days. 

"You used to do all your worrying secretly," you mumble. 

"So did you," he says, kissing your head carefully. 

You wince despite his gentleness, the ache in your ear having pervaded into your teeth and brow, even behind your eye. "Can I have more painkillers now?" 

"Yes, I think so. It's not quite been four hours, but," —he sighs and kisses your hand before letting it rest on your chest— "I don't think it's alright for you to be in this much pain, lovely girl." 

Even now his pet names make you giddy. Smiling through the pain, you pull the throw blanket he's laid over you upto your chin. You haven't cried for a few hours, but the pain is acute and building fast. Your eyes hurt, your nose hurts, Fred's too far away and his stupid brother hasn't come to see you, either. 

"Will George be coming over?" you ask. 

Fred pops ibuprofen and paracetamol into his hands. If you're refusing mudwort (as you have from the beginning of your sickness), then those will have to do. "Round two." 

"Time is it now?" 

"Two. Sit up, then, you can have these with some apple juice." 

You blow out a suffering breath and sit up. Your ear feels better for it, honestly, so you elect to stay sitting, taking your tablets and shifting your legs to make room for your devoted boyfriend to sit beside you. Luckily you're not contagious. Fred's the one who made you sick, and he got sick from one of his many siblings who got sick from who knows, but so far you're the only person to suffer with an ear infection. 

He's free to sit close to you and ogle you shamelessly. "You're still very, very pretty, even when you're ill. How do you manage that?" 

You smile at him. It's a sad smile, too pained to really give him much minding. "Practice," you joke. 

Fred appreciates your effort. He pulls your arm into his lap to touch gently, drawing shapes and stars and spirals into your hot skin. 

"Mudwort's not as bad as you remember," he begins lightly, his nonchalance a dead giveaway that it is definitely as bad as you remember. "It's like long grain rice, you know?" 

"It tastes like clay if clay was evil." 

"Yeah," he says, his guilty smile making apples of his cheeks, his freckles dancing. "Okay. The lavender tincture will be ready in a bit, you don't have any qualms against lavender, do you?" 

"Quite like lavender," you mumble, closing your eyes. You're too tired to stay alert but hurting too much to sleep. 

"I quite like you, ghost," he murmurs. Ghost a silly nickname and not silly at all, a lasting moniker that the twins defer to whenever they feel like being especially affectionate. You used to be very quiet before you met them, like a ghost. 

You frown deeply as a wave of throbbing pain worsens. Lost in it, you're unsure how much time passes, but George arrives at the same time as the tinctures ready, sitting gingerly beside you. 

"This is very unfortunate," he says. He pokes your arm. "Fred does realise that if he fails to look after you, we'll only have Lee Jordan left?" 

"You love Lee Jordan," you mumble. 

"Ah, but I love you more." You squint at him. He looks a lot like Fred, but he doesn't look at you as Fred does. When Fred looks at you, it's with a lovelorn, inescapable fondness, like he wants to wrap you up in his arms for days at a time and just hold you. George grimaces at your dishevelled appearance. "Well, I loved you. I'll give a heartfelt eulogy." 

"We aren't best friends anymore," you complain, pushing at his hand ineffectually. 

Fred sits down. You'd barely recognised his departure. "I think you should mercy kill me," you say, scrunching your eyes closed. You're joking but tears well unbidden along your lash line, trying hard to push out. You scrunch your eyes harder. 

"You'll be okay," Fred promises, tincture in hand. "I promise. You'll have a couple of drops of this, okay?" 

"Wait, I have to eat it?" you ask, suddenly much more reluctant. 

"Yeah. I'll take some too, if you like. We'll all have lavender mouths." 

You close your eyes and tilt your head back, knowing Fred will dropper the tincture into your mouth. It's oily and tastes cloying. George presses a cup into your hands, and you drink quickly to get rid of the bad taste.

You nearly gag, swallowing roughly against the oily feeling coating your teeth. 

"Bet you wish you'd taken the mudwort now." 

"Shut up, George." 

George doesn't shut up. He doesn't yell, but he talks to you for a while, staving off tears with his presence alone. He gives your hand a good squeeze as he says goodbye, promising to bring you a proper jar of sweets if you make it through the infection. 

"I notice you haven't offered me anything," you tell Fred as he sits down. Tears bump down your cheeks from the pain. You're trying to ignore them. "I want things, you know." 

"That's music to my ears," he says, pulling your head toward his chest gently, giving you the chance to stop him if it hurts. "I love when you want things. I'll get you literally whatever it is you want just as soon as you can fight your poorly ear off." 

Fred gives you a tiny kiss at your crown. You sniffle.

"What can I do?" he asks. 

"This is really perfect," you say, wiping your tears away before they can tickle. "I have everything I need until it's over. You and paracetamol." 

He knows how much you mean it. Nearly every horrible thing you've lived through has been while you were holding his hand. Fred looks a little like he could cry himself as he smiles at you, stroking your damp cheek with the back of his hand. He softens his touch as your eyes flutter closed, his voice like a hum as he says, "Sorry, lovely. I didn't mean to make you so unwell." 

"I could've slept on the sofa," you say with a shrug. 

"But you insisted on taking care of me, and now you're not well," he says, kissing your crown a second time. "I'm sorry. Please try not to cry, okay, it's only going to hurt more." 

"You need to distract me, then," you say, pursing your lips for a kiss. 

He leans down to give you the kiss you're craving. "Love you," he says, all smushed. 

"I love you, Freddie," you say, dropping back down into your cushion nest. "Don't feel guilty, okay? Everyone gets sick." 

"I just don't like you getting ill. You've had a rough enough go." 

You breathe in through your nose, pulling his upper arm toward you so he can't run away. He wouldn't, but still. 

"I can manage. Have a really nice boy looking after me." 

Fred makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan and settles down next to you for the long haul. "You're easy to look after. Try and have a rest, yeah? Let's kip." 

[melonminnie]

Requested by @liawoo:Hiii!!! I'm here to ask bout an Atil Takar x Reader can be fem or they/them ! Their relationship is like a puppy love and them being a parent to lil Lyrica! Haha if that's okay :P

And say “I miss you” -Atil x fem! Reader

-Tysmmmm for requesting enjoy <333 this is my first time writing 4 atil So Ty again hehehe lyrica is sorta OCC sorry ☹️ </3

Atil was ranting about something that was Going on with him, a few moments ago he had barged into your room with desserts in his hand ready to hang out with you knowing he wasn’t supposed to.

“Atil what are you doing this time?” She acted shocked as if he hadn’t done this a million times, “hanging out with you of course” he stated laying on the girls bed with a smile on his face.

He put his hands behinds his head and still laid down, “what are you even doing at this hour still awake?” He asked his blue eyes focused on her.

“I couldn’t sleep” she stated, “Why are you here?” She questioned him. “Same reason” he replied.

there was a moment of silence on both your parts, for some reason this was the first time none of you could utter a word to each other, maybe it was just sleep taking over your body but the boy looked troubled.

“What’s wrong you look sad” she asked, rubbing her eyes. “Nothing..” he replied his eyes drifting away, “Open your mouth” The girl stated grabbing a cookie from the tray, He complied opening his mouth, the sweetness of the desert filling his mouth his eyes light up slightly.

“Please don’t be sad” She smiled, “I won’t as long as your with me I’m happy”.

The next day was going usually okay as normal, Except you and the prince had something planned today, but he didn’t want to let you go from the brink of dawn he’d forced you to follow him like a duck.

it would’ve been fine if you weren’t as busy as you were, “Atil can I leave now?” The girl questioned impatiently, “Nooo, Why do you wanna leave me?” He whined, his head rested on his desk piles of books around him.

“Because I’m busy too you know!” She explained, “I’ll take over your work then” he murmured staring at his assistant (forgot his name sorry)

You swore you saw him cry at that moment, “I need to meet lyrica too” you stated again, “Mmmm I’ll go with you” he declared standing up.

“Are you sure?” She smiled standing up with him, “Yeah I am” he answered eagerly grabbing your hand and practically running out of the room to his younger sisters.

The door was pushed open by force, Before the crown prince declared his presence, “I’m here!~” he answered smiling, the brown haired girl turned her head at the voice her eyes lighting up.

“Atil!, y/n” she ran up to the two hugging them, “How are you?” The older girl asked, “I’m Perfectly fine!” She chirped smiling, “What’re you doing?” Atil asked scanning the room.

“Nothing! I was eating cake with brin” she replied, “Y/n! Join me” she insisted, “I can join you later, I have something later so I can’t eat right now” she apologized.

“What are you doing” she asked tilting her head, y/n hesitated for a moment looked into atils eyes for confirmation, he shrugged giving her the green light.

“I’m gonna eat with atil later” she answered, “Ohhh! Where I wanna know” she urged, “In the garden” Y/n stood up brushing the dust of her dress.

“Can I come? Pretty please?” She questioned. The entire room was silent for a few minutes, “Of course the more the merrier, only you though don’t invite anyone else” Atil interrupted.

After a few hours, the three of you were seated together on the ground. Assortments of food spread on the cloth.

“Waah! There’s so much food” The princess stared at the food in glee, “wait can I eat this!?” She questioned staring at Atil, the boy nodded staring at her.

Lyrica took the invitation eating as much as she can and as fast as she can, “Lyrica please don’t eat fast you’ll get hiccups” The older girl warned, lyrica noted that and started eating slowly.

After the three of you finished, You noticed there were some food on her face.

“Lyrica” you spoke, she turned her head towards yours, “You have food on your face, here” Y/n took a handkerchief and wiped the girls face.

“Thank you!” She thanked the girl going back to her conversation with Atil. For a few moments Atil didn’t process what his sister was saying.

he leaned forward, indicating he wanted to say something in your ear, you leaned forward towards the boy giving him your ear.

“I’m glad I met you y/n” he whispered.

[justanamesstuff]

The intimacy of being understood

Epilogue

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: Okay, wasn't planning on posting today or any day soon...here we are though haha. This is the end guys :(( and its also a good bye for a while...I'll still be here to chill and chat but not writing, I'm already missing it a lot. Thanks again and again and FOREVER for all the support you all always give me, means the absolute world to me <333 Happy reading!

Warnings: just FLUFF AND LOVE (i think we all need a bit of that haha), typos.

Word count: 1.4 K

Blog Masterlist Series Masterlist

Epilogue 

The summer breeze messed with Y/n’s locks, even though that didn’t disturb her slumber. Matty ran a hand softly through the strands of hair falling on his lap. His sight admired the lake in front of them and the sun reaching every corner of the park except the place they chose for a break during that summer day. 

Matty stared at the broken light –getting through the leaves of the tree above them– playing on his girlfriend’s face. His factions softened when his eyes traced every part of her beautiful face. She had fallen asleep shortly after they arrived, and he started reading out loud for her. When she proposed the idea, Matty protested saying how cheesy it was, although she only had to flutter her eyelashes and he started clearing his throat before pronouncing the first word of the book Y/n selected. 

The singer's calloused hands touched slightly her forehead, drawing lines along the skin, then her nose, to finish caressing the apple of her cheeks. ‘I’m a lucky bastard’, Matty thought.

After a few minutes, Y/n protested, still partially asleep, “Mmm.” she mumbled, but Matty didn’t stop.

Y/n blinked her eyes open, looking up at her boyfriend’s face, meeting his eyes. She groaned due to tiredness overtaking her senses. The quick action made Matty laugh.

“Hey, sleepy.” he whispered, feeling another breeze of air surrounding them.

Matty’s girlfriend let herself enjoy his touch, still on her face. “I’m sorry.” Y/n apologized. “Your voice and the weather are just too good.”

“Happy to help, my love.” he smiled down at her, even when her eyes were still closed. 

Y/n felt her stomach move a little, and her hand instantly went to rest over her growing belly. She loved Matty with all her heart. Those simple moments of peace together were everything Y/n wanted to cherish for the rest of their lives. The intimacy they built during the past year and a half was their biggest treasure until she arrived.

When she moved looking for a better position since her back started hurting, Matty helped her. Y/n ended up sitting on his lap, with her back meeting his front. Matty’s hands met on Y/n front, caressing the skin under her blouse. 

“How much did I sleep?” Y/n ask, resting her head on his shoulder. 

Matty answered right away, “Probably half an hour.” 

“How long until you noticed?”

“Five minutes.” he chuckled. 

“Matty!”

“Don’t look at me. You looked too peaceful to wake you up, baby. Besides, you haven’t slept that well in days.”

He was the sweetest man walking the earth. Y/n took his free hand, lifting it until her lips left multiple kisses on the back of it. 

“She’s being a little troublemaker already.” Matty teased.

“Mhm.”

“You’re never this tired when i fuc-”

“Matty!” Y/n protested, turning as best as she could, looking at his face. “Do I have to remind you how did I get…?

“Yes, please. I want a step by step manual of everything we did-”

Y/n frowned, saying, “Shut up.”

“I love you.” Matty replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, making her heart melt. 

The singer’s girlfriend let herself lean forward, encountering him in a sweet kiss. 

After a few minutes and multiple kisses, Y/n pushed back, “I need to drop by the shop.” Matty frowned listening to her say that. “New delivery.” she clarified.

“You can do it tomorrow. I’ll help you.”

“I’ve already told Kate to help me.”

“Cheater.”

“You can help too.” she reassured him.

“I can see how this is going to be. Me doing all the hard work and you two ogling over me.”

“Excuse me?” 

“I have a nice butt.” Matty shrugged his shoulders.

“...now.” Y/n added.

The singer groaned loudly, “I forbid Kate to show you those pictures.”

“Love, she doesn’t hear us, and besides I have a phone.” 

“Oh, do you have a Pinterest board for me?” he giggled his eyebrows. ‘He can be so annoying sometimes’, she thought. 

“I don’t like you.” Y/n breathed out.

Surprising Matty and herself, Y/n stood up rather quickly with little problems due to her current state. She whipped her hands on the back of her jeans, looking down at Matty. He reached up, touching her belly again. The man was obsessed with it.

“How’s it called?” Matty continued messing with her. 

“Asshole.” Y/n whispered, making him laugh.

The singer moved his other hand into the air, making a weird voice, “Matty, my perfect boyfriend.”

“Bye!” the woman simply said, starting to walk away.

“Baby!”

*****

Matty was at the top of the stairs, a few books resting on his arm between his chest and his bicep. Meanwhile, Y/n stood at the bottom of the stairs, being unable to do the job that was needed. Her hands rested on the small part of her back, she was very sore. The sight above her was a nice reassurance, though.

“You lucky girl.” 

Kate’s voice came from behind her head. Her best friend took place beside her, her eyes glutted to Matty’s body, exactly how Y/n had been doing moments before.

“Shush.” she said after a quick glance. 

Matty stretched far from the stairs, putting the last book on the shelf. “And…done!” 

The singer looked down, expecting to see only Y/n there. He got a little stunned when two pairs of eyes were staring at him and not exactly his work. But his mood quickly changed to a smugly one. 

“Liking the view, guys?” he asked.

“Yep.” Kate admitted with zero shame on her tone. 

Matty snorted, “Didn’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Didn’t you have one?”

“Mhm, she lets her crazy friend look at my ass.”

“I own it.” Y/n stated.

“You do.”

Kate looked between them, “You two are gross.” 

“And yet you stare at my ass.” Matty said coming down.

“I can appreciate art when I see it.”

It was Y/n’s time to protest, “Kate!”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcomed.” Matty thanked Y/n’s friend, standing closer to his girlfriend, reaching for her belly once more. 

“Am I bothering you guys? Should I leave?” Y/n joked.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Y/n.” 

“Funny ha-ha.”

“I should leave, though.” 

Kate explained to them, grabbing her back, that it was at the other side of the shop, although she returned. Y/n watched her kneeled down, whispering silly things to her belly, ending with a sweet kiss. 

“Vick is waiting for me.” Kate continued the conversation as if nothing happened in between.

Matty whistled, gaining a stern look from her. 

“He’s lucky to have nice buttocks.” Kate said directly to her friend. “Bye.”

After the door closed, Matty went directly to the big couch, plopping down with a big huff. He opened his arms wide, searching for Y/n’s eyes. She was already staring at him. 

“Baby…” he started. She knew that tone. 

“No, I still have work.” Y/n started turning around, but not two steps before he pushed her towards the couch. 

Mayhem who was on the other couch, tired by the intense heat, opened and closed his eyes, annoyed with his owners. Y/n extended her hand, touching his fur, avoiding Matty’s eyes above her. 

“You deserve a break.” she could feel him lingering on top of her. 

“Maybe but-”

Matty shut her up with a series of sweet kisses that ended –of course– on her belly. He kneeled down in front of her and their doggy.

“To think this is where it all started…” he spoke, a bit lost inside his own head. Y/n detached her eyes and hand from Mayhem’s form, leaving the sweet dog to rest. 

“The bookshop?” their hands met shortly after asking him. 

“Yes.”

“Thanks to your crazy fans, too.”

Matty chuckled, “They love you.”

“I bet they want my place.”

“The bookshop?”

“To be underneath you.” Y/n teased. 

“Ah!” Matty exclaimed, going to sit beside her. “You like that, don’t ya?”

“Why are you talking so much?” 

“What should I do?”

“Kiss me, Matty.”

“Since you asked nicely…” Matty smiled at Y/n, grabbing her face and pulling his face closer.

Meanwhile the future parents shared a sweet moment after an evening of hard work, all the surrounding universes inside the bookshop continued witnessing –like they did since the first day– their love that continued growing strong. 

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

Taglist: @indierockgirrl @x-a-black-winged-dove-x @iregretbeingherewheniwas10 @hswannaknow @thefrontofmymind

[h-harleybaby]

heyyy i dont you to be over flowed with butters hcs...BUTTT can you do butters x reader cuddling hcs please

-xxx anon

Request as much Butters as you want I love the guy <333

Butters cuddling hcs

Ahhhhhhh, cuddling Butters is the best!!

He 's so warm and he loves any physical contact (because lord knows he doesn't get any from anyone)

His first reaction to a lot of things to hug or cuddle you tbh

Seeing you sad or angry? Ask if you'd wanna cuddle and rant to him

Seeing you happy? Hug you and just in general be proud of whatever you've done

You're sleeping in his bed??? Scootch a lil he wants to cuddle and go to bed, this man knocks out like a light too and he has what isn't exactly a death grip. He just won't let you go, he doesn't want you to leave :<

You're on your period?? Mans is gonna cook you some food and let you use him and his warmth to cuddle however you want

He's such a sweetheart <3333

Butters favorite way to cuddle you is either having you lay on him, or him being able to lay on your chest with your arms around him

He's so affectionate and he'll always cuddle you whenever you want

He's big on PDA too so ofc he would

And he likes walking arm in arm with you in public too

Sorry it's so short, took me like- 23 minutes because I'm tired and it's 6 am (cough I forgot to publish it until 11 am cough)

Hope you like it tho!!!

Don't be scared to send in a bunch of Butters requests, I love the lil guy <333

[kairiscorner]

I want to see a fic that is basically the Sleeping Beauty once upon a dream scene except with Reader x Noir pls.

hello anon !! sure thing >:D man this song's an earworm ngl, I HOPE YOU LIKE THISSSS <333

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

we met once upon a dream — spider noir x reader (sleeping beauty inspired fic)

summary: you swore you knew him from somewhere, sometime; you felt a little weird seeing him again though, like he's a stranger, but... a familiar stranger. word count: 1,192 a/n: this was such a cute concept like owemji I WANNA MAKE ONE FOR MIGUEL NEXT of course you do hayop na kairi ka at siyempre magiging angst siya kasi oo

the clacking of heels and murmuring of hushed conversations and giggles in the ballroom was silent, yet deafening to you. you couldn't remember anymore why you agreed to attending this ball or gala or whatever fancy word your friend called it, you were honestly just here for the free liquor, everything else, you could do without. you felt so out of place there, with your most expensive apparel looking like mere rags to the attendees of this shindig; you opted to just stand at the corner and nick a few glasses of wine, champagne, or some other foreign liquors that tasted too tangy, sour, or bourgeois to you.

"i know you, i walked with you once upon a dream."

"what a slow night, huh? they promised it'd be the party of the century, but... i think they forgot to add the 'slumber' before the 'party'." a deep, husky voice joked while you were preoccupied with the bubbles in your champagne. you finally looked up as you heard that voice, your ears perking up the minute you heard him speak. you were greeted to the sight of a tall, fair complexioned young man with black, slicked back hair and round rimmed glasses. he had a noticeable smile, one that only seemed to brighten up the place more than the glass chandeliers and lamps in the ballroom. "oh, sorry, i didn't notice you there." you apologized as the man chuckled. "don't worry about it." he reassured you as he leaned next to you against the wall.

"i know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam."

there was something about this man... he felt familiar somehow, but no name came to mind, nor any place or street when you looked at him. he felt familiar, but you had no idea just who he was. you looked into his eyes, and... you saw something in those beautiful, grayish brownish eyes of his that shone under the chandelier's light; it was shining and almost speaking to you, asking you if you remember him.

"and i know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem,"

"um... care to, uh–" "dance?" you asked him in a slightly sarcastic tone with a sly smile on your face, waiting for him to chuckle it off and ask you if you wanted to get some more liquor like you hoped, but... he instead blushed. he blushed and, from the tips of his ears, down to the bit of his neck that wasn't shunned by his collar, he was covered in a bright pink and red. a charismatic, yet evidently flustered, smile was on his face when you asked that; his eyes grew larger as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "you're too good at reading people..." he muttered with a chuckle as you giggled back at him.

you set your wine glass down and gently took his hand in yours. you raised an eyebrow and smiled at him. "what're you waiting for? the night's young, seize the opportunity to dance with me, mister." you encouraged as he smiled to match your energy and set his own glass down as he followed you on the dance floor. "i'm no mister, i'm... i'm fairly young." he tried to convince you as you ignored his babbling and placed his other hand on your waist, with him shivering in your stead. you laughed a little at his skittishness. "relax, i'm only here to dance, i won't bite, just make sure not to step on my toes, or i will start biting." you teased as he chuckled again. "feisty, i love it." he complimented you as a new song started up, and you recognized it as a slow love song from a movie you loved as a child.

"is that..." "the score for sleeping beauty? i recognized it, too." he said with a slight smile. you looked at him with an impressed grin. "a hundred points, you know your stuff, mister...?" "parker, peter benjamin parker." he finally introduced himself. and you couldn't help yourself, you gasped a little louder and abrupt than you intended. "peter...? peter parker?" you repeated as peter's eyes grew bigger at your visible astonishment. "why, yes... um, is something the matter?" he asked you as your mouth was hung open slightly.

no wonder that smile seemed so familiar to you, it was the smile of the boy who stood up for you when you were being bullied in elementary school. he was the boy who kept you company at lunchtime, who helped you with your homework, who tied a bow in your hair when you felt ugly about your haircut... the boy who asked you out to prom but was too late, and you went with some other boy who was interested in you. he was the sweetest boy you ever knew, and all this time... he came back into your life, just at the most unexpected time.

"but if i know you, i know what you'll do,"

you danced along with him, accidentally stepping on his toes as opposed to him stepping on yours. he chuckled as you apologized hastily, your hands shaking as he held you, your body tensing up as he swayed you. "are you... okay?" he asked you as you seemed despondent at first. "i... i'm sorry i didn't wait for you to ask me out at prom." you muttered.

peter heard your apology and leaned closer to your face as he smiled. "so you're the one i was looking for all this time... i had my suspicions, you were the most beautiful person in this whole gala, how could i have thought you would be another person? and don't worry... life brought many more surprises our way, no?" he said with a brilliant smile as you felt more flustered and embarrassed. he was looking for you, even after all this time?

"do i classify as a stranger to you still?" he asked you in a soft voice with a sweet smile on his face. you tried to match his smile, but ended up wincing. "well... not after you pretty much re-entered my life and welcomed yourself back in, of course not, petey. i... i really missed you." you rambled to peter as an impromptu welcome back into your life, with him blushing and chuckling even more as he dipped you as the music climaxed.

he leaned closer to your face and blushed a deeper shade of crimson. "i really... missed you, too." he said as you got all sheepish and smiled back at him more genuinely and held him tighter. this felt like a dream, this whole night did–it felt like you were asleep your whole life and were living out the loveliest dream you've ever had... and to see him finally after all these years, you felt like tonight could be the start of making up for the lost time that you had wished to spend with him.

"you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

he had been that stranger that wasn't really a stranger; just someone you met once upon a dream.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @thee-fantastic-mrfox @maxoloqy @arachnoia @ophanimgold

[tonberry-yoda]

IM SORRU THIS IS THE 4TH REQUEST I SWEAR IDK WHATS GOTTEN INTO ME BUT I GOT INSPIRATION HAHA.

Ha.

ANYWAY i js thought of a scenario yippe🦖

Fem reader who comforts and cheers up Abbacchio after a nightmare

Like i feel he would take some naps during the afternoon since he doesnt sleep.. at all. So yk we js chilling and all and WOAH nightmare smack

And yeah cheering up Abba bc i love him sm he deserves so much better☹️💞

OH BONUS IF WE DO HIS MAKE UP TO CHEER HIM UP MORE TOO💯💯(since i like doing make up heheheheh)

Cheering up Abbacchio after a nightmare

notes - OMFG THIS IDEA IS SO CUTE AHHHHHH <333 Literally I love my goth gf sm and he deserves so much love. Sorry this took a while, but now that I only have requests in the 30s i feel so much better about everything! I love getting requests from you, so thank you <3

literally how is he so pretty UGH

i feel like he would have nightmares a lot. he's been through a lot of trauma, so that would get him in his sleep

you didn't know about this either because he got too nervous to tell you

so when you decide to spend the night after dating for a while, you wake up to the sound of him heavy breathing and literally SOBBING

you put your hand on his back, tuck his hair behind his ear, and ask him what's wrong

he forgot you were there, so you scared him a little bit, but after he got over that, he just let you hold him for a minute

he's not usually a vulnerable guy, but when he's tired and in the comfort of his own bed with someone he loves, he can't help it

so he tells you while you just hold him

he insists on just going back to bed and that he's fine, but you want to help

you run your fingers through his hair while he tells you about what his nightmare was about and you just listen

he then wraps his arms around you and cries a bit

you just hold him and whisper how much you love him

he feels like a huge weight has been taken off of his chest

neither of you can really sleep after that, so you make the two of you some tea

when you come back, you realize that it's actually nearly morning

"can I do your makeup?" you ask with a giggle, almost as a joke

he says yes and you get really excited

it makes him feel much better to know that he has someone on his side to help him out and do his makeup perfectly

after you get ready for your day, he thanks you and presses kisses all over your face, leaving lipstick marks behind

you're left with a smile and more than willing to do anything for your bf <3

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) (3) | pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated <3

~~~~~

[slash-me-please]

Hey, I have a request! Corey Cunningham prompts #3 and #60, and I’d like it to be pretty angsty <333 thank you!

#3: "You hurt me,"

#60: "Let me fix you up,"

Warnings: corey choking you, my attempt at making something angst.

The Shape

Corey Cunningham was your world. Is.

He's more than anything you could've ever expected yourself getting. He's caring, he's sweet, he's gorgeous, so why is he scaring you? Sometimes he comes home late, eyes burning with something you have yet to encounter. His hands twitch at his sides when he sees your form, eyes blank. You often wonder and ask, "What are you thinking about?" And his dark eyes would stare, not seeing you but through you. His pupils would dilate, color seemingly swimming around in his irises- not unlike the coffee you'd share with him every morning. And then he'd answer. "You." And it'd make your heart stop each time as you knew he was lying.

You had too much time to think about the changes, it's not that he didn't love you, he was obsessed. What was it then?

Pulling the covers over your body, you snuggled into the far side of his full size bed, drifting to sleep while he was out.

-

Something woke you. You couldn't breathe. Why couldn't you breathe?

Your eyes shot open with a gasp, you immediately thought to an intruder but the blank eyes you made contact with were all too familiar for a stranger. His nails had been digging into your throat, your blood pulling before his hands and dripping down the column of your throat. You brought your hands up to his arms, pulling at them at a desperate attempt to get some air. "C-Corey!" You cried.

Your voice seemed to jerk him out of the trance he was in and you jerked back at the small opening, pushing yourself into the corner of the bed with a sob. For the first time in months his eyes had softened when he looked at you and he reached forwards. "No! You hurt me!" You cried, smacking his hand away. "God, Y/N I- I'm sorry, i don't know what came over me!" He sputtered, backing up from you a bit and beginning to pace around the room. It took a couple minutes, but you finally stopped crying and dipped your fingers into the blood dripping down your neck. It stung. You brought your hand back with a gasp that made Corey look your way. "How.... How could you?" You mumbled, focused on the wrinkled up blankets on his bed.

"I'm so sorry baby, I don't know what came over me, Let me fix you up love, please?"He walked over to where you had been curled up at, kneeling in front of you with a plead. And you knew you couldn't resist as he inched his hands under your thighs with a small grin. "Alright..." You sniffed, pushing his hands away. He seems to get the hint as he goes to retrieve the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink. As you sit you wonder briefly if you should let this continue, as it wasn't the first time. He returns and begins to dab at the already-purpling bruises on your throat. He feels regretful while your face contorts in unwanted pain. You jerk away routinely, and after he's finished you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

"Corey, I wanna take a break."

[seiwas]

sel i don’t know what’s been in the air lately but i cannot stop thinking about iwa!!! the way he’d get flustered the first time you call him haji <333 he’s so in love with you, he smiles even if you call him haji accidentally when you’re mad at him!!! also buying cute pilates or gym sets and modelling them for him in your bedroom he just LOVES watching you <33 but it’s a little annoying cause u can’t trust his options cause he just says you look gorgeous in all of them <333 also the first time you wore a blue set he’d liked in particular to the gym you have to suck him off in the car cause he underestimated how much of an effect you’d have on him

oh my god. i was awwing the entire half of this until i got to the end was like whoAH WHOAH WHOAH. so true tho nonie. he can't drive w a raging boner, that'd just be too dangerous! also, buying cute pilates/gym sets gets him so rock hard i cannot EVEN. i love that idea nonie

truly... the enlightenment is in the air that’s what it is 😌🥺 we are finally being enlighjime-d, iwaitened. he also absolutely does get flustered when you first call him haji 🥺 i have a lil thing… i wrote abt that… actually… it's part of my hajime series (which is privated rn bc i'm rewriting it!! my writing style has changed a bit since i first wrote it) but!! i'll put it up here for our enjoyment 🥹🥹 and maximum feels (unfortunately, it is entirely innocent and no sucking off in the car but it is still so very dear to me! 🥺)

When Iwaizumi takes up Sports Science in California, you stay behind and complete your degree in Japan. The time difference sucks; just as he starts his day, you’re ending yours. Still, you make an effort to talk within the window of hours you’re able to. 

At 1:03 a.m., you are cozied up on your bed, night light casting a soft glow onto your tired eyes. You yawn, squinting at your phone while waiting for a familiar face to pop up on screen. A few minutes pass, and it vibrates, the picture you took of Iwaizumi that summer after high school on display. 

You swipe your screen to find bright light streaking through the lens of Iwaizumi’s camera, obscuring your vision of him.

“Hold on,” he murmurs, before the view turns to black. Random blobs and shapes move around and you suspect that he’s probably wiping the lens while moving to a place with shade. “Sorry, just walking to campus right now.”

You wait patiently. 

Soon enough, you are faced with a clearer visual of Iwaizumi, his spiky hair now shaped into a semi-crew cut—olive green eyes giving off the same stare you know can only belong to him. He doesn’t look much different from the photo assigned to him on your phone, but he doesn’t look the same either. The fact that you notice these changes means that time has passed, and you’re reminded that this is the Iwaizumi you no longer have—the Hajime you could have had. 

“Hey,” he greets, sending you a grin. A few beats and recognition flashes through his face as he notices that you’re all tucked in bed, ready to sleep. “Shit, did I wake you?” 

You laugh and shake your head, mushing your cheek against your pillow, “No, it’s okay,” you snuggle up to your duvet, “was waiting for your call anyway.” you readjust your phone and place both hands under your cheek, “You rushing to class today?” 

“Not really.” he answers, looking up from the screen, presumably to cross a road. “First period canceled, so I’m heading to the gym for a bit. How ‘bout you?” 

“Well,” a playful glint sparks in your eyes, “not rushing to class, no. Not going to the gym, either. Not in this outfit, I think.” you smile, suppressing a laugh. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but you can see traces of a smirk gracing his lips. 

Since going to America, Iwaizumi has gone through a few changes: his confidence, his humor, and his temperament—all of which have gotten better. He’s a lot more relaxed now than he used to be, joking around and going along with your jokes every now and then. But underneath all these improvements, he retains the same qualities that make him the Iwaizumi you know (and love). 

“Ha. ha. Funny.” he responds sarcastically. 

A twinge pinches at your heart, and you think, God, this banter, it hurts. This is the soft spot you know he holds for you. You’re brought back to the same nastiest look he’d given you when you wrote the most horrible puns on Aoba Johsai banners during matches. 

“I meant, how ‘bout you, you aren’t rushing to class tomorrow? Actually–” the video moves around and you catch a glimpse of him tapping his smart watch, a familiar black bracelet on his other wrist, “—shouldn’t you be asleep?” When he returns to the screen, worry lodges through his furrowed brows, a small pout forming on his face. You want so badly to be there to wipe it off. 

“It’s fine. You called, so.” you say softly, gently, leaving room for your admittance to ring louder. You know he understands because he’s done the same. 

“Well,” he copies you, “I don’t want to keep you up. Sleep’s really important, you know.” 

You hum in acknowledgment, “Okay,” disappointment poorly hidden in your tone. 

But he knows, he always does. “Call me when you’re free later, I’ll pick up. We can catch up then.” 

You smile and nod. A yawn escapes you, eyes slowly drifting shut. “Good morning, Haji.” you mumble.

He freezes.

He wouldn’t have heard it if not for his earphones (thank god he had them). It’s the first time you’ve ever called him Haji. Heat rises from the back of his neck, to the tips of his ears, down again to the expanse of his cheeks. The familiar thump sounds loudly in his ears. 

“‘Night,” he responds, whispering your name before ending the call.

It takes him a while before he continues to walk towards the gym; his heart is pounding too hard and too loudly for him to focus on where to go. All that replays in his mind is the sound of you saying Haji, softly, tenderly—the way you encase the syllables of his name in comfort that feels like it belongs to your lips.

Haji.

He wonders if you meant to call him that.