biscuit-s

The first sign something was wrong was the growling.

Not the terrifying, earth-shaking demon kind Dante was used to hearing during jobs.

No.

Tiny growling.

Tiny angry growling.

You looked up from the kitchen sink slowly, already suspiciously quiet in the office for the last five minutes, which, with Dante and your daughter involved, usually meant property damage.

“…Honey?” you called carefully.

Another growl answered you.

Then Dante’s absolutely delighted laughter erupted through the building.

“Oh my God!!! sweetheart do that again!”

You dropped the dish towel immediately.

The Devil May Cry office looked like a tornado had passed through it.

Pizza boxes were overturned. One of Dante’s coats had somehow ended up hanging off the ceiling fan. Ebony and Ivory were safely locked away thankfully because apparently even Dante had enough survival instincts to babyproof firearms around a half-demon toddler.

And right in the middle of the chaos stood your daughter.

Tiny.

Furious.

Glowing.

Little crimson horns poked through her soft white hair while a thin tail lashed violently behind her. Her eyes glowed bright demonic gold as she stood atop Dante’s desk in footie pajamas covered in strawberries.

She looked genuinely terrifying.....if she wasn’t three feet tall.

“She bit the table,” Dante informed you proudly from the couch.

Your jaw dropped. “She WHAT?”

“She got mad because I said she couldn’t have ice cream before breakfast.” Dante snorted loudly. “Then boom.... tiny Devil Trigger.”

Your daughter pointed a chubby little finger at him and hissed.

Actually hissed.

Dante burst into another fit of laughter. “Ohhh she’s got ATTITUDE.”

“Dante!” you snapped while hurrying toward her carefully. “Don’t encourage her!”

“She’s adorable!”

“She’s demonic!”

“She’s our demonic.”

Unfortunately, he had a point.

Your daughter stomped her foot angrily the second you got close, tiny claws scratching against the desk surface. Smoke puffed dramatically from her nose like an offended little dragon.

“Oh no,” you whispered. “Baby…”

Her glowing eyes immediately filled with tears.

And just like that the terrifying demonic rage melted into distressed toddler emotions.

“Mama,” she whimpered. Your heart shattered instantly.

You scooped her up carefully despite the claws and tail whipping around anxiously. Her little horns bumped against your shoulder while she buried her face into your neck, sniffling miserably.

Dante’s laughter softened immediately. “Aww, c’mere bug.” He stood from the couch and approached slowly this time, much gentler than before. “Hey…hey, you’re okay.”

“She doesn’t know how to turn it off,” you realized softly.

Your daughter whined pitifully as another tiny growl escaped her hiccups.

Dante crouched beside you both, resting his chin against the top of her head thoughtfully.

“Huh,” he muttered. “Y’know, my first Devil Trigger was way messier.”

You gave him a look. “Not helping.”

“Just saying, she’s doing great.”

Your daughter peeked up at him with glowing eyes, little lips wobbling. “…Daddy?”

Dante melted instantly, completely.

“Oh I am SO screwed,” he whispered dramatically, clutching his chest.

Despite yourself, you laughed softly and then your daughter sneezed.

A burst of demonic energy exploded outward in a tiny shockwave that sent papers flying everywhere and launched Dante backward into the jukebox.

The entire office went silent.

Dante sat there sprawled against the machine staring at the ceiling for two seconds before slowly grinning. “…Okay,” he said proudly. “That was kinda badass.”

And now your daughter was officially exhausted, that was the real problem. It wasn't the horns, not the glowing eyes. Not even the tiny tail currently wrapped tightly around your arm like an anxious cat.

She was overtired, overwhelmed, and emotional — which apparently mixed terribly with dormant demonic instincts.

The Devil Trigger itself had started flickering now.

Little sparks of crimson energy blinked unevenly around her tiny body while she sniffled against your shoulder miserably. Every few seconds the horns would shrink slightly…then pop back out again when she got frustrated.

“Oh honey…” you whispered, rubbing her back carefully.

Another hiccup escaped her as a tiny puff of smoke followed it.

From across the office, Dante watched thoughtfully while leaning against the jukebox he’d been blasted into ten minutes earlier. His expression had finally softened from amused chaos into something gentler.

Experienced.

Because unlike you, Dante remembered what it felt like.

The overwhelming rush.

The fear.

The emotions that got too big too fast.

And judging by the tiny scrunched expression on your daughter’s face, she was scared now too.

“Hey, bug,” Dante said softly.

Your daughter looked up immediately at the sound of his voice, golden eyes watery.

Dante held his hands out toward her slowly. “C’mere for a sec.”

She hesitated then immediately reached for him.

Dante took her carefully against his chest, one large hand supporting the back of her head while her tiny tail wrapped around his wrist instinctively.

“There she is,” he murmured.

Your daughter whimpered quietly. “Daddy…stuck.”

“I know.” Dante sat down on the couch with her curled against him, his hand slowly rubbing up and down her back while the office lights buzzed softly overhead.

“You wanna know a secret?” he asked quietly.

She nodded weakly.

“The first time Daddy transformed, I cried too.”

Your daughter looked up at him with wide glowing eyes. “You did?”

“Oh yeah.” Dante nodded seriously. “Whole thing was a mess. Screaming, breaking stuff…probably looked uglier than you too.”

A tiny giggle escaped her through the sniffles.

“There it is,” Dante grinned softly. “That’s my girl.”

The energy around her flickered again.

Dante’s expression shifted slightly then, becoming more focused. More careful. “Alright,” he murmured. “Listen to me, sweetheart.”

She stared at him intently.

“You gotta breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“You’re panic breathing.” Dante tapped her nose lightly. “Slow breaths. C’mon. Like this.”

He exaggerated one deep inhale then a slow exhale.

Your daughter copied him shakily.

Again & again as the red glow around her dimmed slightly.

“There you go,” Dante praised immediately. “See? You’re controlling it now instead of letting it control you.”

You watched quietly from nearby while your daughter focused entirely on Dante’s voice.

It hit you suddenly then how terrifyingly good he was at this.

Not because he was powerful.

But because he understood her.

Dante rested his forehead gently against hers rocking her gently. "Being part demon doesn’t make you scary,” he told her softly. “Okay? It just means your feelings get really big sometimes.”

“…Like you?”

Dante barked out a laugh. “Oh sweetheart, unfortunately yes.”

Another tiny giggle and this time the horns shrank noticeably.

Dante immediately pointed dramatically. “AYYY there we go!”

Your daughter gasped, reaching for the top of her head.One horn remained as the other was now gone.

“Daddy!” she squealed excitedly.

“Focus, bug, focus!” Dante laughed. “Can’t celebrate yet.”

She concentrated again with the most serious little expression imaginable.Tongue sticking out slightly, tiny fists clenched.

And with one final flicker of crimson light the remaining horn disappeared as tail vanished next.The gold faded from her eyes until they returned normal.

Silence settled over the office.

Your daughter blinked once.Then immediately burst into tears again. “I DON’T WANNA BE SCARY.”

“Oh, baby…” you breathed.

But Dante pulled her close before you could even move.

“Hey.” His voice came firm this time. Certain. “Look at me.”

She sniffled hard.

Dante brushed messy white hair from her forehead gently. “You know what I saw today?”

Your daughter shook her head. “I saw my kid do something incredible.”

Her lip trembled. “But I got angry…”

“Everybody gets angry.” Dante shrugged. “Hell, your Uncle Vergil built his entire personality around it.”

A startled laugh escaped you from across the room.

Your daughter giggled weakly too soft hiccups as her tiny hands clutched his shirt.

Dante smiled softly before kissing the top of her head. “You’re not scary, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re Sparda blood.”

Your daughter curled closer against his chest sleepily while he held her securely in his lap.

Five minutes later she was fully asleep.

Tiny snores.

Sticky strawberry pajamas.

One little hand gripping Dante’s shirt tightly.

Dante looked down at her with this quiet overwhelmed expression, his voice soft.“…She got your nose.”

You smiled tiredly. “And your chaos.”

SO MUCH FREEDOM THANK YOU

okay i am SO happy with how this turned out, so proud of this, hope y’all enjoy

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

Loki is laughing.

He’s sitting on a couple checkered blankets, sunflowers glowing in his dark hair, the sun shining on his face, and he’s laughing.

Secrets

Loki x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 1,829

Warnings: fluff :3

A/N: I got like, 6 requests for this exact scenario. Y’all REALLY hungry for dad!Loki huh 

“Oh, come now,” Volstagg thundered from across the table, a goblet of mead in his hand. “You sorcerers read minds all the time, I know it!”

“It’s not true!” You insisted, laughing. The midsummer banquet had long since ended, but Thor’s group of close friends – yourself included – had simply elected to move the party to his wing of the palace, where you could continue to revel and drink uninterrupted. “Seidr allows us to influence minds only.”

“I don’t believe it,” the red-bearded warrior decided. Finding your answer dissatisfactory, he turned to the more knowledgeable of the two sorcerers at the long table. 

Loki regarded his gaze with the faintest of smiles. “Yes, Volstagg?”

“Can you read minds, Silvertongue?”

Loki took a sip of his drink, which he had undoubtedly magicked into a finer, more sophisticated liquor besides mead, and raised one dark eyebrow, keeping the table in suspense before shaking his head. “No, I can’t read minds.” 

The group erupted. You and Loki shared a mutual smirk amidst the clamor, and you subtly leaned closer to him, speaking in his ear. “A good thing, too, or we would have no secrets between us.”

“Secrets?” He repeated, a confused smirk lighting his poet’s mouth as he lowered his goblet and met your eyes. “What have you yet to tell me?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and you forced them down with a nonchalant shake of your head and a light kiss to his cheek. 

“Nothing,” You lied, covering genuine anxiety with a coy and playful tone that, hopefully, he wouldn’t see past.

You hadn’t figured out a way to tell Loki yet.

Word Count: 804 | Pairings: Loki x Reader | Warning’s: None

Summary: You, the princess and heir to a throne in a distant realm, have been promised to Loki of Asgard since the day you were born (unbeknownst to him). Over the years you’ve heard much about him both good and bad. And now that you are of age it is time to finally put a face to the infamous name.

PART TWO

You meandered down the long corridor on your father’s arm and surrounded by guards. Your heart pounding in your ears but not loud enough to block out the commotion coming from the throne room up ahead.

“YOU DID WHAT?” a voice bellowed.

“Loki, calm down,” said another voice, light, and calm.

Your heart sputtered in your chest.

Loki.

He was here. Just up ahead.

You gripped your father’s arm tighter. He looked down at you with a smile, patting your arm. “Be calm, my sweet. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

You nodded and swallowed hard but still your heart thundered in your chest, your palms became sweaty, and your mind raced anxiously. You had been betrothed to Loki the Mischievous since the day you were born and today would be the first time you would actually see him with your own eyes. You didn’t know much about the younger Prince of Asgard except that he was handsome, powerful, mischevious (obviously), and had apparently faked his death twice.

“I WILL DO NOTHING OF THE SORT,” Loki hollered. “WHAT GIVES YOU OF ALL PEOPLE THE RIGHT TO DECIDE MY FATE?!”

You whimpered. “He doesn’t like me,” you murmured to your father. 

“Nonsense,” your father said. “One cannot dislike someone they haven’t so much as laid their eyes upon.” 

“Come now, Loki,” a new voice said, husky with a touch of amusement. Thor. That had to be Thor. You had met him once a little less than a year ago when he traveled to your realm on business with his father and he’d seemed nice enough. You recalled that this knowledge had comforted you as a girl.

 "I’ve met Y/N and she’s intelligent and beautiful. This will be good for you. At least meet her.“

"No,” Loki growled. “I want nothing to do with her.”

Your heart sank.

You emerged from the hallway, entering the massive throne room. Eyes downcast in disappointment but your head remained held high.

Odin rose from his throne and smiled. “Welcome King {Dad’s Name}. to Asgard. I trust your journey was agreeable?”

“Quite,” answered your father. “Odin, it is a pleasure to be back in your domain.”

The two kings embraced and Odin caught your eye. He smiled. “Princess Y/N, my you grow lovelier with every breath.”

With your eyes downcast, you dropped into an elegant curtsy. “Thank you, King Odin. Your realm is the more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed and I find your subjects most accommodating. Thank you again for thinking of us.”

He chuckled. “I assure you, child, the pleasure is all mine. And thank you for your kind words. Now,  I am sure you remember my son, Thor?”

“Of course,” you answered. You dropped into another curtsy as Thor approached and he returned the gesture with a bow. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Y/N,” he said. 

“Likewise,” you said with a grin that didn’t touch your eyes, your previous enthusiasm had all but evaporated the moment you heard your betrothed’s voice. 

“And introducing my youngest son and your betrothed, Loki Prince of Asgard.”

A beat passed and you never raised your eyes from the ground in front of you.

“Loki?” his father called when he didn’t say anything. 

And without thinking, you looked up and your eyes met. His jaw dropped and his eyes were wide in his head. Your heart drummed so loudly in your chest you wondered if the whole room could hear. He was more handsome than you’d anticipated. A full head of shiny black hair that fell slightly past his shoulder, crystal clear blue eyes that you’d already found yourself lost in. He wore a fitted ensemble of black with hints of green and gold that hugged him in places it was too soon for you to be thinking about.

“Loki?” Thor called this time.

He didn’t move an inch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t dare tear his eyes from you.

Thor reached out for his brother, to shock him no doubt when Loki seemed to recover himself. He beamed brightly at you and your knees weakened.

He started for you and you resisted the urge to meet him halfway. “Y/N,” he breathed, caressing your name with his tongue.

“Loki,”

He held out his hand for yours and you gave it without question. He got down on bended knee, tossing his cape back with a flourish and planted a kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes never wavering from yours. Chills went up your spine.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” you whispered.

“Oh no, dearest,” he said rising to his feet. “I assure you that the pleasure is all mine.”

BONUS:

Thor frowned, confused by the sudden twist of events. “But wait you just said that you didn’t want anything to do with–”

“SHUT UP, THOR!”

Author’s Note: This has been sitting on my desktop for so long. Please enjoy. 

Tags:  @spicygrethan

“I wanna fuck [fictional character]!” “Just one night with [fictional character(s)]!” “My girl doesn’t [insert sexual activity] that’s why I cheat!” “It’s too small.” “It’s not pink.” “[Fictional character] is sooo fuckable.” “She doesn’t know how to do it right.” “He’s too small to feel good, I should break up with him.” “[Fictional character] is so boring but I’d still smash.” “She’s boring, I need two at once.” “My man doesn’t [insert sexual activity] should I break up with him?”

“LATINA FETISH, ASIAN FETISH, BLACK FETISH, he’s too chopped, she’s too chopped, BLAH BLAH BLAH!”

I dont understand why human beings are so, so, so, soooo SOOOOOOO FUCKING obsessed with sex. Sex obsessed as fuck. It’s literally everywhere. It’s all you talk about. It’s fucking annoying. We get it, sex is fun, smut is fun too, moderation, people. WHY is sex/sexual content always being shoved up our ass ANY CHANCE ANYONE GETS?!! Is it all you people think about?!!?? So many of this world’s problems would be fixed if humans weren’t so hyperfixated on SEX? (You know who you are)

Why does no one ever say “I wanna cuddle with him.” “I love her personality, she makes me feel so special.” “He’s so sweet.” “I wanna buy her a cute dress.” “I’ll always love him and him only.”

I don’t need a sex obsession. I don’t need sex 24/7 to be happy. Neither should you.

TLDR: I think sexualizing characters/people IS COMPLETELY OKAY, but I’ve seen sooooo many people who make it their entire fucking personality and all they can think about 24/7 is dick or pussy AND ITS FUCKING ANNOYING.

Edit: To those cowards sending me anonymous inbox messages, I D O N' T G I V E A F U C K :)

Edit 2: I NEVER SAID “FUCK SEX 4 lives forget abt it” reread it if you don’t get it, idiots. I said it’s OKAY, just people that think about it 24/7 to the point that it could cause irl problems, are annoying asf. 24/7. If that gets you pissed off, you’re one of them.

Summary: You’ve tried everything—soothing baths, gentle music, tea, talking to your bump. But your baby won’t settle. They’re kicking, flipping, radiating restlessness from inside you. That is… until Loki steps in. Not as the prince. Not as the illusion. But as who he truly is. Jotun. Magic-born. And in that cold-blue stillness, your child finally sleeps.

Content Warnings: pregnancy discomfort, emotional vulnerability, identity acceptance, pure fluff and love

mcu!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: during one of your weekly movie nights with the gang, peter has a nightmare and accidentally hits you while you try to wake him up, knocking you out cold.

wc: ~1.4k

cw: peter hits reader and it bruises, though this is more of a crack fic than anything! hope you think it's funny, i cracked myself up while writing it (hah)

masterlist and taglist!

long after the credits had rolled on the empire strikes back, you woke to the soft snoring of peter next to you on ned's bedroom floor. the clock on the dresser announced a tired 2:32am, and the only light that crept into the room flooded from the heat lamp of ned's aquarium tucked in the corner.

sitting up and rubbing your eyes to get a better sense of your surroundings, you look down towards the bedheaded brunette lying beside you, soft murmurs escaping his tired lips. you leaned down to try and hear him better, but the effort was fruitless. the mumbling seemed harmless — something you'd heard plenty of times before during your weekly movie nights, so you began to settle back into the warm blankets on your makeshift bed.

that was until you felt peter twitch against you, barely audible gasps accompanying each unconscious movement. you turned to look at him, noticing his trembling body. clearly, he was having a nightmare, you thought as you leaned closer and put a hand on his shoulder.

you shook him gently, his name forming into a whisper: "pete?"

he flinched as he heard his name, though he was definitely still dreaming. you watched as his face contorted into something of fear, and you shook him harder, raising your voice to a regular volume, despite the other two still sound asleep in the room.

"peter, wake up. hey, pete-" SMACK! peter responded to your touch with brutal force, eyes still innocently closed as he lunged forward and swung, a grunt falling from his lips as his unconscious self grew breathless. the contact against your skin stung his knuckles, the pain response immediately waking him up in time to watch your limp body fall back against the floor. though he hadn't even fully woken up, he felt a tingle through his body as he darted forward to catch your head before you hit the ground.

"(y/n)!" peter yelled as his system finally woke him up, panic flooding his senses.

he clung to the sides of your face, instinctively checking for a pulse as you lay completely motionless on the ground. he stared at you for a moment, then down at his throbbing hand and put the pieces together with wide eyes. "no, nonono, no, come on,"

peter shot a web towards the light switch, immediately flooding the once-sleepy ombionce with stark white adrenaline.

"i need you to wake up, (y/n). please." he tried to shake you again, getting a better look at the forming bruise on your jaw.

fuck.

the sound of his heavy breathing became drowned out with annoyed groans as ned and mj began to stir, waking up from the harshness of the overhead light.

"yo, could you not?" mj spat in peter's direction through squinted eyes.

ned slowly sat up from his bed, rubbing his eyes as he drifted between mj on his couch and peter hovering over you on the floor. "what's going on?"

"yeah, parker. you better have a good excuse for-"

"guys, she won't wake up,"

the pair stared back at peter with the same roused expression he had moments ago.

"i-i-i, i dont know. i think i... hit her...?" peter trailed off almost in a question, like he was hoping it wasn't the case.

"what?!" ned reacted immediately, jumping down to join peter on the floor and take his turn trying to shake you awake. mj sat up on the couch to get a better view of the situation, though, that was all the more concern she expressed.

ned's breathing grew even more erratic than peter's. "what the hell happened?!"

"i-i dont know! i was having a bad dream, and i was fighting sandman, a-and, she must have been awake, because she was sitting up, and then..." peter looked down to your unmoving grame and visibly cringed. "and then she wasn't."

mj gave a sharp snort at the admission, and both boys whipped around to give her horrified looks.

"what? it's kinda funny."

ned gave her a glare while peter began to panic again, reaching down to hold your limp hand. "ned, i don't know what to do."

"okay, okay. people pass out all the time; there's like, jobs centered around it. let me google it," he ran to unplug his phone, frantically typing as peter stayed by your side.

"is she breathing? shit, she's breathing, right? holy shit, peter, did you kill (y/n)?"

"what? no!"

ned shook his head slowly, pacing in front of his bed. "listen, dude. you know i'm your guy in the chair, but i am not going down for a non-spider-man related murder-"

"ned, she's not dead! how do i fix this?!" peter ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"okay, okay!" he made his way back next to peter, a wikihow article pulled up on his phone. "it says to perform a sternum rub."

peter gave him a bewildered look. "you want me... to rub..."

"her chest!" ned exclaimed, proud he even knew where the sternum was.

"WHAT?!" peter nearly yelled back, only to be shushed by ned and earn another snort from mj. "ned, i just physically assaulted her, i am not adding sexual to the list too."

"no, dumbass," mj perked up. "you rub her with your fist on her sternum, on the center of her chest — above anything. you're trying to elicit a pain response, to wake her up."

peter looked like he was going to throw up. "i don't want to hurt her either! that's what caused this mess!"

mj rolled her eyes and shuffled back under the covers. "you guys are freaks, i'm going back to bed."

"no!" the boys shouted in unison.

"you have to help us! you come do it!" ned nearly pleaded, his eyes flickering between you and mj.

"i'm not the one who knocked her out! this entirely seems like a peter problem."

peter's face dropped to his hands, a frustrated groan rumbling deep from his chest. "it was an accident."

"your accident."

"mj!" ned yelled, a hand on peter's shoulder to help calm him down. "it's okay, pete. she'll be okay. you're spider-man, you save people all the time!"

"yeah, when they're still conscious!"

"guys?"

"i can see the headline now, spider-man hurts an innocent civilian: was this his motive all along?" mj gave in her best jj jameson voice.

"mj!" the boys shout at her again.

"um, guys?"

"one sec, (y/n)." ned responds, disappointed eyes still trained on mj.

everyone immediately whipped their heads around to see you slowly sitting up and touching your jaw, a wince falling from your lips as you grazed the bruised skin. peter was at your side the second he saw you awake, his hands covering your own and his eyes examining every inch of your face.

"oh my god, are you okay?!"

you rubbed your eyes harshly, the light only adding to your growing headache. "what's going on?"

"peter decked you." mj answered, the smirk evident in her voice.

"mj!" the boys scowled for who knows how many times that evening.

you looked towards the curly-haired boy with shock written on your features. "you... excuse me?"

the look of guilt peter gave you was enough of an answer. "okay. maybeihityouinthefacewhilesleepingandknockedyouout."

"oh?" you let out, more confused than anything.

"(y/n), i'm so sorry. i'm so so sorry, i was having a nightmare, and i-i don't know what came over me, i'm so sorry, you have to believe me." he rambled on.

mj cut him short, though. "i think this means you get to hit peter now."

"what?!" peter whipped towards her in shock, and it was ned's turn to offer a snort in response.

"i mean, it's only fair." mj shrugged.

"(y/n) is far more classy than that," ned said, almost in reassurance to peter.

"y-yeah, she doesn't stoop to your- OOF" peter was cut off as you swung as hard as you could at his right cheek. it was nothing in comparison to the villains he fought on a daily basis, and it definitely hurt your hand more than his face, but you smiled while craddling your now bruised knuckles as peter held his cheek in his palm with utter stupor radiating from the look he gave you.

"okay, maybe she does."

taglist:

A/n: that trailer for Spider-Man has me pumped, I also love Peter and think he deserves happiness.

Peter Parker was talking and not just talking—rambling.

The kind of rambling that only happened when his brain was moving faster than his mouth could keep up, words tripping over each other as he paced your dorm room, hands flying around like they were trying to physically organize his thoughts.

“—and I know it sounds like a lot, but if I can just recalibrate the web shooters to respond to...well, not pressure, more like, uh, tension distribution—then theoretically I could—no, wait, that’s not the right word, hold on—”

You were sitting cross-legged on your bed, chin propped in your hand, watching him with soft amusement.

He hadn’t stopped moving for the past five minutes.bBack and forth. Back and forth. Like a very stressed, very adorable pendulum. You were honestly starting to wonder how much caffeine he had.

“—because if I adjust the formula, then it might—might, hold longer under stress, but then there’s the issue of..uh..viscosity? No, that’s not..well, it is, but not—”

“Peter.”

He didn’t hear you.

“—and then if I factor in the humidity because New York humidity is actually insane, like scientifically insane, I swear, then maybe I could—”

“Peter.”

Still nothing.

“—which would mean I could swing longer distances, which would be great, because last week I almost well, I did, I definitely did fall into a—”

You slipped off your bed and walked right up to him.

He didn’t stop talking. “—but it wasn’t a big fall, okay? It was more like a controlled—”

You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed, it was soft, warm and very deliberate.

Peter froze instantly.

Mid-sentence. Mid-thought. Mid-everything.

His hands hovered awkwardly in the air for half a second like his body had completely forgotten what to do with them before they slowly, hesitantly settled at your waist.

You felt the exact moment his brain stopped working.

The kiss lingered just long enough for him to melt into it, just long enough for his shoulders to drop, for all that frantic energy to quiet.

And then you pulled back, just a little, close enough that your noses brushed.

His eyes were wide and completely unfocused.

“…you—uh—”

You smiled, gentle, teasing. “You were spiraling.”

“I....was not spiraling,” he said automatically, voice a little breathless, like he hadn’t quite caught up to reality yet.

You raised a brow.

He blinked. “…okay, maybe a little spiraling.”

“A little?” you echoed.

He huffed out a soft, embarrassed laugh, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Okay, a lot. I just, sometimes my brain doesn’t… stop.”

“I know.”

Your voice softened, and his gaze flickered back to you, really looking this time.

You stepped closer again, hands sliding up to rest lightly on his chest, feeling his heartbeat still just a little too fast. “It’s okay,” you murmured. “I like listening to you.”

Peter’s expression shifted to something quieter, something more vulnerable slipping through the usual nervousness. “…yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “But sometimes you need a pause button.”

His lips twitched. “…that was your pause button?”

“Effective, wasn’t it?”

He opened his mouth, paused then closed it again as he blinked a few times. “…I forgot what I was saying.”

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself. “Good.”

Peter let out a soft laugh, shaking his head slightly—but he didn’t step away as he leaned in closer, bending down as he let his forehead touch yours gently. His hands tightened gently at your waist, like he was testing the reality of this—of you being right here, grounding him so easily.

“…I think,” he said slowly, voice softer now, “you might need to do that more often.”

“Oh?” you teased. “For scientific reasons?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, completely serious in the most Peter way possible. “Strictly scientific. Very important research.”

You laughed, and the sound made something warm bloom in his chest.

He looked at you like he always did in moments like this, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real, that you chose to stay, to listen, to care.

“…I had a point,” he added after a second, squinting slightly like he was trying to chase the thought down. “I definitely had a point.”

“Mm,” you hummed, already reaching up to hook your fingers into the collar of his shirt again. “I’m sure you did.”

His eyes dropped to your lips. “…I don’t remember it.”

“Good,” you whispered.

— enjin x reader

enjin was on his way back to headquarters after picking up rudo and zanka.

rudo looked around the car in a dazed state, honestly still confused over the whole ordeal when his eyes fell upon a stuffed dog, one that reminded him of the toy he gave chiwa. a sense of anger went through him as he picked it up and squeezed it.

enjin noticed what was happening through rear-view mirror and chuckled, "got something against puppies, man?"

zanka opened an eye and sighed, "and this is who you want to recruit to the cleaners?"

he put the toy down and took a deep breath, reminding himself of what regto had told him about pausing for a moment before doing or saying anything brash.

"no, i... i fixed up a toy like this before. back on the sphere."

enjin hummed, sensing there were likely bad memories attached to the toy so he didn't want to bug the kid too much.

"well you could give anything to rumi and that girl would love it."

"rumi would be happy with a bag of flour." zanka said flatly to which enjin did his trademark laugh.

he was happy to know someone would appreciate his affinity for fixing things, but who was rumi? probably another cleaner around his age.

Istg where is it!?

A Gachiakuta x Reader Smau

Sypnosis:They hide your jinki

Tags:Gachiakuta x Reader, Lowkey Ragebaiter Canon characters, Reader is rage baited✌, Reader is lowkey a crashout.

Characters:Riyo Reaper, Enjin, Zanka Nijiku, Follo Tunito, August Stilza, Jabber Wonger.

Thinking about how he reacts to the news of becoming a father

⋆. 𐙚 Enjin x wife!reader, fluff (w.c:2.6k)

Enjin is honestly not surprised that you end up pregnant. Not like you two weren’t using any serious protection. It was bound to happen with how little you can keep your hands off each other

Although you guys had initially never really talked about having kids, it wasn't until he learned that you were pregnant that he realized he really wanted to become a dad

“Congratulations, you’re about 4 and a half weeks along,” Eishia says. You feel your heart drop, and anything else the young doctor says is muffled.

As of late, you had been feeling off. Unexplained nausea. Headaches. And mood swings that had you being hot and cold with your husband. After crying over the fact that your coffee didn’t taste right anymore, to suddenly snapping at Enjin for touching you when your breasts were unexplainably tender, he finally had enough of your moodiness and told you to go see the doctor.

For some reason, it never occurred to you that you could be pregnant.

And as the growing realization dawned on you, you got lightheaded and began to sway.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Eishia panicked, grabbing your arm when you nearly stumbled back.

“I’m okay…” You mumble, though mentally, you were anything but.

What was Enjin going to think?