#and he protests and makes a fuss out of it and he gives her a bunch of money and then takes it back and gives her less than he owes her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peachesofteal · 5 months

Note

Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss.

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body.

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again.

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth.

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.

I’m here now.

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief.

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you.

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently.

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl.

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly.

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze.

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family.

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive.

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say,

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.”

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another.

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours.

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out.

“Right. Okay.”

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him.

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own.

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth.

“We will.”

#light on #peaches asks #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #peaches writes

2K notes · View notes

cal-flakes · 2 months

Note

bsf!rafe x reader whose tricked into sucking his cock every time he does anything for her-

Ike drive her around, buy her things, etc and she’s completely oblivious and he LOVES IT

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “hi rafey!” you beamed, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he smirked at you from the drivers seat. “hey princess— you good to go?” rafe asked, giving your bare thigh a firm squeeze whilst you buckled your seatbelt.

this had become a weekly occurrence— rafe takes you shopping, you get to spend time with him, he gets whatever he wants out of it. in your pretty little head, it was a win win situation. yet, your friends didn’t see it like that. ‘you’re telling me he buys you things in order to use you? is that what you’re saying right now y/n?’ — ‘he’s not using me! he’s my bestfriend he would never do that!’

— “right kid, where d’you want dropped off?” he replied, readjusting himself as he watched you fuss about the shopping bags, making your tits prominent as you leaned over the seat to keep the bags out of your way. “oh, just my house” you smiled, all glossy lips and bright eyes.

the car ride was comfortably quiet, with little communication other than the odd squeeze of your thigh.

“m’gonna pull over here, usual spot yeah?” he queried, not actually bothering to look for you for confirmation, until you protested. “aw, but rafe i don’t want to ruin my lipgloss again!” you frowned, giving him your best pout. — putting the car until park, he reached over you, undoing your seatbelt. “i just bought you a new one doll, you wouldn’t want to be ungrateful, would you?” he stated, the same condescending tone that went right over your head, just like always. pulling a frown from you, you quickly readjusted, giving yourself easier access to start undoing his belt.

“no, of course not— m’sorry” you whined, peering up at him through your lashes as you freed his painfully hard cock from his shorts, earning a hiss from him.

placing your manicured hand around the base, you worked at the tip— pressing soft kisses and kitten licks.

“don’t be a fuckin’ tease kid” he groaned, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he stuffed the rest of his cock as far as it would go, causing you to whimper as your eyes watered.

“thas’ a good fuckin’ girl right there, doin’ so well f’me”

#ʚ♡ɞ ☁: elle’s dreams #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafecameron #rafe obx #obx

2K notes · View notes

underdark-dreams · 2 months

Text

This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?

Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!

Rolan x afab!Tav

Birds and Bees - Ch.1

The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.

Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]

Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog.

He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.

He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.

The dreams featuring Tav, however…

Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.

She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least.

Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.

“You look awful.”

“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.

“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”

“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”

Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.

“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”

Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.

“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”

Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”

Cal walked off with a snort.

Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.

He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.

It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.

Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.

“Lovely morning, isn't it?”

Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.

“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.

“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest.

Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.

“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”

“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.

“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.

Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.

“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”

Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”

“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.

Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.

—

Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.

Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”

Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”

“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.

Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”

The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.

“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.

“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”

“Who can?”

Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.

“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”

Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”

Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.

For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery.

Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.

Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.

“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I could make you something for that, if you like.”

He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”

“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”

Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”

There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.

“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”

“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.

Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.”

There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.

It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?

Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.

It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.

But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?

The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.

That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship.

And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.

Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.

“Noblestalk propagation?”

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.

“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”

Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find.

Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.

“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—

“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”

“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”

“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”

As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short.

Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.

When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.

Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.

“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”

Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes.

“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.

Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster.

She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand.

—

Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.

Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking.

He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure.

It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?

He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.

As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.

“Are you wearing scent?”

Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.

With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures.

The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.

A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”

Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression.

To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.

With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.

An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.

The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself.

As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.

“Need a book from the library—”

Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.

Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.

Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.

How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.

Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.

Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable.

But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?

It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years.

Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?

As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—

Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav

The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page.

Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?

That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.

Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss.

Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.

#spicy #rolan x tav #tiefling ruts #eventual smut #bg3 rolan #female tav #heat/rut cycles #rebgrrl writes #underdark-dreams #bg3 fanfiction #tiefling biology

408 notes · View notes

bunnyreaper · 4 months

Text

john helps you with your gender studies work, then decides to properly educate you.

(18+/MDNI, established d/s dynamic, dubcon(ish), misogyny kink, degradation, choking, pussy slapping.)

part of you wanted to slam the textbook shut the second your handsome distraction of a boyfriend walked through the door, but a large part of you knew you had to get your reading done now before your ability to concentrate evaporated come nightfall.

you try to focus on the words on the page as you hear john shuck off his jacket and boots, and throw his keys onto the table by the door.

"home, love." he calls out, before stepping through into the flat.

"hey." you greet back, small smile on your face even if your response is a little half-hearted.

john shuffles over to the couch, collapsing down onto the plush cushions before he pulls off his beanie and throws it on the coffee table.

he gives you a few moments to wrap up the page you're reading, then he expects you to come over and fuss over him like you always do.

the fussing doesn't come. and his leg starts to rock in impatience--after a trip to the base, he needs his soft, sweet girl in his arms. needs his love cooing over him and staring at him like he hangs the stars in the sky for her.

instead, your nose is in that fucking book.

growing impatient, he calls out to you once more, though his voice doesn't betray the way he sits on the couch and fights the urge to bounce his leg, or the twitch of his fingers. "what's that, love?"

"new class." you flash the book cover at him, key concepts in gender studies.

john parts his thighs, making a space before he taps them. "come sit here, bring your textbook." his command is gentle yet compelling, and you rise to your feet without a second thought.

"study snuggles?" you ask, a bright smile on your face as you make your way over. john often tempted you into his arms so he could cuddle you while you read, and you both got what you wanted.

"something like that." he smirks, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his lap so your arse is flush against him. he circles an arm around your waist, keeping you securely in place as you get back to reading.

john can't help himself though. his girl in his lap, right where he wants her, and he's sure if he just starts teasing he can make her forget all about the book. he's done it so many times before.

he pulls the fabric of your top down your shoulder, baring your skin to him so he can press ravenous kisses all across your shoulder and all up your pretty neck. he knows your weak spots, targets them directly with hungry licks and playful bites, until he hears you gasp and sigh in delight, until he feels you squirm in his lap.

"john, i'm trying to focus." you sigh, protest weak as his kisses continue.

one of his hands trails up your thigh, pushing past the hem to expose your thighs and tease your sensitive skin, his hands on a mission.

like a good girl, you sit and take what john gives you, desperately trying to keep your focus as arousal fogs your brain. maybe you have to re-read the same line about five times, but you're determined to keep going--the book's contents have made you feel determined and powerful.

john's hands both settle on your knees, pulling your legs wider until they're stretched over his and exposing you to anything john wishes to give to you.

still, you try to keep your mind on the book and not on the way his fingers creep up the silky skin of your inner thighs, or the way his hardness presses against your cheeks.

you turn the page over, finally having finished with the prior one. john settles his chin against your shoulder where it glistens with his spit, and you can feel his eyes on the page, reading along with you.

"don't you feel silly, darling?" he whispers, fingers teasing you further, making you jerk in his lap.

"why?" you ask, trying to not pay him or his like of questioning too much mind.

"reading feminist theory when you're far from one." his voice is taunting, a purr that shoots right through you with how condescending it is.

"i am a feminist. you're a feminist." you reason, yet as you say it, you catch onto his little game. at the same time, he reaches up to take ahold of your hand, squeezing. you squeeze back twice.

"i mean look, women and power." he scoffs, taking your finger to point to the sentence, as if couldn't read it on your own. "i think you should drop the class, darling."

"why?"

one hand moves back to your thighs, thick fingers pads stroking across the outer seam of your panties, the other comes to the nape of your neck--stroking and kneading, giving you goosebumps everywhere.

"don't want it filling your pretty little head full of nonsense." he coos, punctuating his words with a tighter grip.

"nonsense?" you ask, voice sweet and innocent.

john hums for a moment, before his slips round the column of your throat. "who has power in this relationship?"

he choses that moment to ghost his fingers across your clit through your panties, and he watches as your body tries to chase his fingers.

"y-you."

"and why's that, princess?" he turns your head and kisses the side of your jaw, hovers his fingers inches away from where you need him most.

"because you're older and wiser, but really it's because I give you power!" you protest, voice growing whiny as your body betrays you.

john laughs--a low, mocking sound. his fingers tighten around your throat, restricting your blood flow. "hmm. but you like listening to an older man, don't you?"

"yes..."

finally he pushes his fingers firmly into your clit, chucking as you buck and your legs almost start kicking. "how is that empowering?"

pleasure floods you immediately. your grip on your book tightens, your eyes slip shut and a breathy moan pushes past your lips."it's just a fantasy... it's not... real."

"isn't it? are you sure?" he coos again, talking to you like you're beyond stupid. his fingers quicken, his grip chokes you harder. "if you wanted me to stop, could you fight me off?"

you thrash against his hold but find it entirely futile. "no!" you cry out.

"why?"

john relents, stilling all movement so you can calm down and give him a semi-coherent answer. even with his hands not actively teasing you, it still feels so hard to think.

"well you're in the army for one." you mutter, a sarcastic edge to your voice that earns you a short, sharp slap to your pussy that brings you back in line. "because you're bigger and stronger.

"why do you think that is?"

you hate the way it feels like john is actually picking apart your thoughts, invading your brain and reprogramming you--and you know he hasn't even gotten started.

"because... you're a man."

"hmm, it's natural for men to be strong, powerful." he explains, his words patient and authoritative. he returns to massaging your clit, making you associate the words with pleasure. "for women to be weaker, in need of protection."

you wrack your brain to think of a response, a rebuttal to john's claim. "that doesn't make us unequal."

"no, princess, this little slit between your legs does." he mocks, as his fingers now dive underneath the fabric of your soaked panties to probe at your hole. "what is a cunt's purpose?"

"to... get fucked?" you mumble, feeling shy. finally, you close the book, tossing it down on the floor and listening to john instead.

"fucked and bred by a man. dominated. conquered." his fingers thrust inside you, ruthless as they piston into your needy hole. "it's just nature, hmm? a cunt gets fucked, a cock does the fucking."

"i... guess." what he is saying makes sense to your aroused, confused, weak female brain.

"and your body knows it too, that's why you're leaking all over my fingers." he croons before sweeping your wetness all over your aching clit.

"no, that's because--"

he slaps your cunt again.

"If you didn't like it, you wouldn't be soaked darling." he tuts and shakes his head, dismissive of your feeble protest. "it's normal, princess. your body doesn't believe in fantasy, it just knows reality."

"s'not a bad thing to want to be protected, coddled, cared for. not wrong to give into your instincts, to want to be filled up with cock and cum, to please a man."

he keeps talking, keeps re-educating you as his fingers work over your puffy nub and the sensation of being a little messy girl overwhelms you.

"goes both ways love, wanna please you too, but we each have our roles, no?"

"yeah... you're right..." you nod weakly.

"there has to be a reason this is the way things have always been, hmm?"

john continues, launching into a long speech as he works you closer and closer to the edge. "and look at what you do for me. what would they think if they could see you now?"

your brain starts to slow, his words echoing around your empty little brain.

still, he persists. still, he preaches his patriarchal gospel. "if they knew the times you skipped classes just to stay at home, down on your knees, worshipping my cock with that pretty fucking mouth?"

his words turn to a condescending growl, a mocking roar as he infiltrates every last corner of your mind. "if they knew the way misogyny gets you fucking soaked, love."

the hand on your neck glides as his fingers intrude into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and choking you on the digits. "could you even spell patriarchy right now, explain feminism? no? go on, tell me you're a feminist, princess." He urges, unrelenting.

all you can do is gargle and choke in response, unable to do the one simple thing john asks of you, unable to do it because you're weak. a woman. just a needy cunt.

"good girl. my good girl. that's it, surrender to a big strong man like me. s'just natural, love." his filthy, forbidden words have you right on the edge. but you know the rules, you don't come without his permission.

luckily for you--john is merciful, kind, and takes care of what's his. after all, he only wants what's best for you. "cum for me. cum the last of your brains away, sweetheart."

with his command, the coil within you snaps, sending you over the edge of a brain-shattering orgasm--a high unlike any other. it feels like you do actually cum your brains out, as your body shakes against john's hold and cries leave your throat until it's almost raw.

john holds you steady, safe in his arms as you come down from the high and he presses sweet kisses along every inch of exposed skin he can possibly reach.

"fuck, john." you sigh, eyes remaining shut in your blissed out state. you cling to where john's arms are wrapped around you, squeezing him back.

"good?" he whispers as he strokes you soothingly. "didn't go too far?"

"no, i loved it."

he smirks against your skin, relieved that you enjoyed exploring the fantasy with him.

"good. how about i take you to bed and really fuck the feminism out of you then?"

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price #captain john price #captain price #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #bunny writes #cw misogyny

509 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 11 months

Text

canopy

1.5k / joel miller x fem!reader / master list

One shot (update: sequel)

Anons: he sneaks into her room at night to do it and her dad comes in to check on her at some point cause he thought he heard her "crying" so joel has to hide (under the covers with his cock still inside her or his mouth on her???) and she has to try and stay cool and collected til he leaves. WARNINGS: I8+ MDNI. Non outbreak AU, girthy age gap (reader >18), grinding, Unsafe P in V sex. Creampie. Swaddling / cockwarming.

“I dunno if you can take it, baby,” he whispers as he presses his ample hardness into the back of your silky nightgown. Joel is spooning you in your childhood bedroom, and he’s being a tease.

“What?? You know I can,” you protest quietly. You've taken it before. You're squirming with desire as your canopy flutters in the breeze of your open window.

“Not without makin’ a fuss you can’t,” he murmurs into your hair as he slides his hand downward and presses himself into you again with a grunt. Growing up, having a canopy on your bed made you feel like a princess. Now Joel does. Tonight, you brought down the side curtains and snuck him in.

“I’ll be quiet,” you whine, "promise."

Your hips rock into his massive hand, his flattened fingers already dripping with your desire. He rhythmically thrusts against you, big and hard. You're throbbing, aching to be filled. Your body is electric with need for him. You’d give anything to have him inside you.

“Not quiet. Silent,” he mutters gruffly. You get butterflies at the sound of his promising words.

You nod and don’t say a word.

“Good girl.”

He slips his cock between your thighs and your breath hitches. He thrusts into the pocket of your thighs against your wet cunt, his cock sliding up to your clit and hitting his hand on the other side. You're overwhelmed with arousal and barely able to stay quiet. You want to beg, but he won’t hesitate to freeze if you even make a peep. He thrusts slowly with the softest grunts muffled by your hair. Each time his cock reaches your clit you throb worse for him.

Desperate to earn penetration, you focus and manage to be silent. The only sound is his heavy breathing and the squish of his hard cock between your thighs, grinding wetly against your cunt, driving you crazy with desire.

“Doin’ great, baby,” he whispers. “Nice ‘n quiet. Hear your pussy beggin’ for me.”

You nod and release a breath you were holding.

“You can take it quiet?”

You nod.

“Want this cock inside you?”

You nod.

“With your parents down the hall?”

You nod again.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.

Joel slides his stiff length against your wet heat again and when he pulls back, he stops with the tip at your wet little hole. You tilt your hips and he nestles the weeping head of his cock in line with your entrance, his hand nudging his shaft until he’s lined up just right. He slowly pushes half into you and you sharply inhale as his girth parts your core. He retreats an inch or two and slides his free hand under your neck, then clamps it over your mouth as he plunges into you full force and you moan into his hand. Even with his hand to stifle you, it's audible.

He freezes with his cock all the way inside you and growls, “What’d I say, princess?”

There are footsteps in the hall, approaching your door. Then your father’s voice. “You okay, sweetie?”

Joel’s cock twitches inside you as he slowly removes his fingers from your mouth. His heart pounds against your back. “Yeah, Dad.”

“You sure? Thought I heard you cry.” He pushes the door handle and cracks the door.

“No, I’m fine, just a cough."

"it didn't sound like-"

"Please, I'm trying to sleep.”

“Sorry sweetie. Lemme know if you need anything, okay? It’s nice havin’ you home.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Good night.”

“Night,” you say and Joel’s hand covers your mouth again as his cock slowly begins to withdraw.

He grants you one more thrust, filling you to the brim with his girth, then he slowly pulls out and your temples feel weak. The hand on your clit slides up to cup your breast over your nightgown and the hand on your mouth loosens.

You whine, “Joel, please,” still muffled slightly by his hand, which he then takes away.

Joel sighs. “Not if you can’t handle it, princess.”

You whisper, “So you’re gonna lie here doing nothing until it’s safe to leave?”

“You know the rules.”

You turn around and face him with angry eyes. He looks bemused. You reach down and grab his wet, hard cock. “I don’t like the rules,” you whisper.

You crawl down the bed and he rolls onto his back, watching you. You straddle his knees, dip your head down, and hover your mouth over his cock, looking up at him. You wrap your hand around the base and he raises his eyebrows. You take the tip into your mouth and taste your own juices. You lazily tongue the shaft. You hold it loosely in your hand and even looser with your mouth, barely grazing it with your lips and tongue. He inhales a chest full of air and softly grunts at the top before letting it out. “Tryin’ to make me sorry, this ain’t the way,” he chuckles in a whisper, lifting his hips into your mouth.

You crawl up his body with your knees straddling his thighs, then his hips, with your little nightgown skimming his cock on the way. Then you stop with your wet cunt lightly grazing his cock. He looks at you sternly, but when you make eye contact, his face softens to curiosity. His chest rises and falls as you press your front against his shaft, wedging his hard dick between your bodies. He slightly raises his knees behind your back. You roll your slippery seam against his cock and slip a hand into your nightgown to massage your breast. You watch a dark hunger overtake his face as your clit twitches against him.

Joel shoots upright and wraps one arm around you, bracing the other hand behind him on the bed. He leans back to hoist you onto his cock and covers your mouth with his own as he impales you, come what may. You whimper quietly at the force and girth of the intrusion. He stuffs your mouth with his tongue then his lips suck firmly against yours, swallowing your moan. You begin to regain your composure and he breaks the kiss to breathe heavily against your cheek. He tilts his pelvis down, pulling out half way, then lifts his hips into you, bottoming out again with a sigh. His strong arm holds you steady as he fucks you from the bottom.

Joel leans back, resting his head on a stack of pillows, and brings you with him. Your nipples harden against his soft t-shirt. He holds you still and thrusts into you, bouncing you on his cock as you’re both laid on your bed, you on top of him. Your head bobs up next to his with every thrust and you bite your lip to not make a sound. The springs of the mattress creak rhythmically.

He tightens his arm around you, holding you close to his chest, then lifts himself up with one forearm and flips you onto your back, still packed full of his cock. The silhouette of his face is gorgeous at this angle. With more control on top, his thrusts are smoother and deeper. He kisses you again as he accelerates his pace but still holds back to avoid rocking the bed. You moan ever so quietly into his mouth as you feel yourself about to come on his cock. “I’m-” you whisper.

“Quiet for me. You can do it, baby.” You pinch your eyes shut and try your hardest.

“Take a deep breath,” he says. "Hold it when you're there." Once you’re holding your breath, he grinds his pelvis into your clit as your hips lift into his and the head of his cock prods your g-spot. You exhale as you unravel. Your clit pulses and your walls choke his cock. "Breathe," he says between heavy breaths of his own. "Keep breathin', baby'." You take deep breaths and manage not to vocalize as your cunt flutters around him.

“Good girl,” he says, still fucking you through it. “You did so good, baby,” he whispers earnestly as he smoothly thrusts into you. He slowly, silently fucks you as you recover, then his breath becomes shaky and he says, “Feel it comin'?" His brow furrows and a drop of sweat falls onto your neck.

You nod.

"Want it bad, don't ya?"

You nod again. You always want him to come inside.

"Can't get enough of it, can ya?"

You shake your head.

"Good, 'cause it's a lot, baby.” He plunges to the hilt and pulses massively. You breathe and sigh quietly as he empties his balls into you. You close your eyes and writhe under him with aftershocks. "God damn, baby," he breathes. "You love it when I fill ya up."

He starts to pull out and you whisper, "Don't."

"Okay, princess." He rolls onto his back again and takes you with him still joined by his cock.

You rest on top of him and he strokes your shoulder softly until you drift off. You only wake up when his softening cock slips out of you and he gently rolls you onto your back again. He tucks you in and says, “Night, princess.” He plants a kiss on your forehead then on your lips before he sneaks back out your window.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging 💗💗💗

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #perv!joel miller #pedro pascal #pervy!joel miller #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#dbf!joel miller #joel miller one shot

2K notes · View notes

renren-006 · 23 days

Text

"I know" | Daryl Dixon x Fem reader

word count: 739

a/n: A short little Daryl story! I know you all love my Daryl fics, and I can see how much support they are getting, so I would love to write your ideas if you have any!!

“I want to go with you” you told him, the gravel crunched underneath your feet as you toyed with the ground. He looked up at you from where he was fixing his bike.

“Nah” he said, tuning back to the parts he was trying to fix.

“Daryl”you said,

“No. ait putting ya in danger” he said standing up now and staring at you.

“D…” you tried.

“Y/N, I'm not arguing with you on this,” Daryl said sternly. You looked at him, not breaking eye contact before you turned back towards the prison. “Y/N,” he called after you. You ignored him.

The rest of the day, you didn’t speak or look his way, keeping to Carol's side. You loved the man, and he still treated you like a child. You were not some young girl anymore; you were twenty now, older, and you knew what you wanted. You also knew you could take care of yourself, especially when running. That next day, Daryl was the one to ignore you, mainly because Carol fussed at him for shutting you down and for being an idiot.

“You can’t be that stupid, Daryl,” she told him as they sat outside smoking cigarettes. Daryl shook his head, his elbows on his knees as he bent over.

“I want to protect her,” he told Carol, “but she’s a kid, and she’s…hardheaded.”

“Like someone else I know,” Carol said, Daryl shook his head. “you should just tell her why you shut her out”

“I will”

“You don’t tell her tomorrow, I'm not giving you dinner,” she said, putting out her cig and walking back inside before Daryl could protest.

Daryl did everything but tell you the reasons behind his actions. That day, you stomped around the prison, finding task after task to fill your mind and time. You wanted to talk to him, but the look on his face when he looked at you scared you.

The more you worked, the more Daryl wanted to pull you away to talk. It was almost sunset when Daryl finally stormed over to you outside. You were holding gear to repair the fence after one of the kids got scratched on it when he had come over to you. He snatched the wire cutters and pliers from your hands and threw them on the ground. You were in shock, standing there with a gaping mouth and open hands. Next, he undid your belt in such a swift motion you felt you were going to lose your mind. The gear belt fell to the ground when he finally clutched those open hands and dragged you far into the field.

“what the fuck?” you asked when he let go. He walked forward keeping his back to you. “Daryl what the absolute fuck?”

“i don’t want ya getting hurt” he said,

“what? Is this about the other day”

“yea” he said, finally turning towards you. “I don't want ya on supply runs”

“I'm not some kid anymore Daryl, I can make my own decisions. I can…I can decide for myself,” you yelled back at him. You were angry, and rightfully so, he wasn't just telling you to stop working but to stop seeking to go on supply runs.

“I know,” he said, stepping forward. “I know, i just ain't used to…”

“Used to what?” you asked, wanting to know how his mind was working.

“You're being so forward with me,” he said. “I ain’t used to it and it drives me crazy”

“I'm sorry…I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable “ you said thinking the man wanted you to stop trying to be with him or get him to realize that the mechanic biker drove your feelings crazy.

“Nah. It makes me want to do things to you, even though I know I can’t,” he said. You froze. He wanted things with you? He tried to do things to you? Your heartbeat was going wild.

“What can’t you do?” you asked. Heat was laced in your voice, and he knew it. He could tell you wanted him to do things to you.

“Everything, " he told you. You closed the space between you, pulling Daryl's lips down towards you. He melted into the kiss, forgetting about the world beyond.

“You can do everything with me,” you said once you broke apart, “you just haven’t let yourself believe that”

“I know,” he said again before kissing your lips and tasting you again.

#daryl dixon #fanfic #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl twd #the walking dead daryl

261 notes · View notes

downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 8 months

Note

Your back! Hi! :D Ok, the guys adore and are protective of their female human best friend (fem reader). She shares a strong bond with them, and they with her. So, if she ever gets injured or sick, the guys are protective for a while. She is ready to help them again (as much as she can with being a human and all) but what she doesn't realize is that this time it's close to their spring season, making them very protective, territorial, and aggressive to outsiders. How would this play out as they are close to their primal time of the year, and she wants to go with them as they're about to leave on patrol, but they won't let her? Fluffy ending. 🥺(maybe some turtle noises and behaviors too)

Protective TMNT headcanons—reader wants to come on patrol

Bayverse, 2003, or 2012 if it suits ya. 🤷‍♀️. SFW! Mentions of "spring season" for the boys but nothing s*xual. hope u like it @pokemew119 !

Leonardo:

• Like Leonardo, we'll be straight to the point with this one—he's not going to want you going out with them. Normally, he doesn't want you to. Now he really doesn't want you to

• Due to their biology, springtime can be pretty dreadful for the bunch (for Splinter, too, he's the one having to manage them). Aggression, sensitivity, protectiveness, fussing over their rooms, etc. So you asking Leo to go out on their nightly patrol with them was a "this really isn't a good time" moment for him

• "The Lair is warm and safe, why would you want to come out here, anyways? Leave the fighting to me. That's what I'm here for, that's my job."

• Can be a little bit of an ass about it ngl, because he just wants to know you're home with someone he actually trusts to protect you, their father

• You heard Leo bark your name as you started up the ladder out of the sewers. Blue eyes giving you a suspicious look. You were trying to sneak topside so you'd be out there before he was able to protest. "No, no, go ask Master Splinter to show you some stuff if you want something to do so badly."

• Pats you along back to the Lair, watching to make sure you actually go back inside

• If you DO end up out there with them, he's going to be stressing a little more than usual about the setup because it throws him off having someone he feels he needs to constantly look out for, unlike his brothers who are more or less self-sufficient. But you bet you're always going to be his first priority, no hesitation

Michelangelo:

• For once, the heightened senses of springtime had Mikey thinking slightly more rationally than usual

• "Babycakes, you sure you want to come? It's ugly out there, smells bad, full of dudes always asking for a beat-down, maybe you should stay." Ruffles your hair for reassurance. "We can play games when I get back!"

• Secretly tries to dissuade you from even wanting to go out with them in the first place with promises of fun back at home

• If you do go anyways, he's taking every chance to show off his nunchaku skills

• Gets annoyed at his siblings for taking your attention away from him (oop there's the possessiveness)

• Very touchy, constantly hanging off of you or trying to play-fight, sit close to you on the sofa, scoot his chair towards you at dinner, etc.

• You ask if you can go with them on their way out and you catch Mikey

• He smiles big and sheepishly shakes his head, "Sorry, y/n, not tonight! You're kickin' back in my beanbag tonight and hanging out, not running around New York." End of conversation. You try to say something, he interrupts you, thumping your shoulder. "I'll text you! See ya, angel!"

• More passive about his protectiveness and isn't so outright about it like Leo, but on the inside, still doesn't fully understand why he feels that way (even though Donnie has explained over and over again)

Donatello:

• "You want to come out with us? Not gonna work, y/n, this is real stuff," he said amicably, raising his brow ridges. "There's been a three-point-four percent increase in crime rate just around the next four blocks, and that's with us kicking tail every other night. Statistically, you're liable to become a target and..."

• Donnie gets real irritable in spring and tends to avoid his brothers, argues with Leo about about their rooming situation bc he wants to be alone (except for with you)

• Sets up an entire cozy corner in his lab for you to chill in while he's gone and hopes you'll use it, even though he'd definitely rather be home and not topside at this time

• When you ask him to tag along on their patrol, he starts spouting off all the reasons you shouldn't and ultimately wins that debate

• Compromises by letting you man his tracking/observation station and communicating with them on their missions from the sewers

• He actually loves knowing you're on tap while he's out in the city and he can just radio in whenever he feels like it

• "See, isn't being our control center way better?"

Raphael:

• Raph already has a huge attitude problem, make that tenfold in spring.

• Gets waaaaay too overprotective at times, verges on bothersome levels of spazzing over what you do and where you go

• "You wanna go on patrol? With us? Just, out in New York City? With the Foot? Ahah, ain't happening, y/n. 'You said 'maybe' last time?' Well, I'm sayin' no, this time. You'll be bored?" He shrugs. "Watch TV or something. But you're not comin'."

• If you do somehow manage to go (highly unlikely), he's going to be grumpy and complain the whole time because he's secretly just worried and his hormones are out of whack

• Gets overly aggressive defending you from anything and probably stirs up more conflict over it tbh

• "It ended up fine that time, but don't do that again, ya hear?" He doesn't want to seem like he cares too much, so he flicks your head. (That man is head over heels for you)

947 notes · View notes

waywardprintmaker · 7 months

Text

Ominis's earliest memories are that of being surrounded by family.

He remembers his legs dangling above the floor and the velvety feel of their living room chair. Remembers the hoarse caws of ravens through the open window and the faint smell of chocolates he wasn't yet allowed to have. There were the sneering remarks of his brother and his mother's ever-calm voice, urging him to "look this way, darling". The room felt too warm, the fabric beneath his hands too rough.

He remembers his fingers aching from how hard he's gripping the chair's arms, remembers his father's stern voice dripping with annoyance above his shoulder as he paces around the room. There's a sinking feeling in his stomach and a slight tremble to his knees. There's a wand pointed at his face for the fifth time in the last hour.

At this point Ominis is too exhausted to cry.

"Please, no more," he says weakly, "It hurts."

His mother only sighs in irritation. "Stop your whining, Ominis. This needs to be done." "But it hurts…" Ominis protests again. "Please, can't we stop?" "No more fussing. This might finally fix you, if you'd only cease snivelling and cooperate."

He remembers the velvet underneath his palms growing damp from the cold sweat of distress. Remembers squeezing his eyes shut though it made no difference. His entire body tensing as if bracing for a physical blow and the air growing heavy with magical energy as his father knelt in front of him.

Ominis pushes his back into the chair in anticipation as the incantation sounds and an already familiar surge of magic hits, heat engulfing his face and eyelids like hot coals pressed against his skin. His eyes sting and it hurts to blink. It feels even worse than the times before.

"Please," Ominis pleads through tears. "Couldn't we stop for today?"

His father gives no response, continuing the incantation with increasing intensity. Ominis tries to shut it out, pressing his palms hard against his eyes, to soothe the pain and hide his returning tears, but he's only given a few seconds of respite before his hands are being pulled away again.

"Hold still."

Ominis takes a shuddering breath, steeling himself for what's to come. "Please, just one more day. I promise I'll be good tomorrow."

But his father ignores him, touching the wand to Ominis's skin. White-hot agony erupts behind his eyes once more, as the magic bursts through. Ominis yelps and twitches involuntarily from the shock of it.

"Perhaps he's had enough," Ominis's mother says, a rare note of concern in her voice. "Further spells won't help if he's too distressed."

But his father is implacable. "We keep at it until there's results. Now end your squabbling, both of you." He moves his wand closer to his son’s eyes again.

Another sharp cry is torn from Ominis as another surge of magic assaults him. When it passes, he slumps weakly in his father's grip, dark spots dancing before his unseeing eyes. Firm hands grasp Ominis's shoulders, steadying him. "Look at me, boy. What do you see?"

Ominis feels movement before his face, blinks the pain away. He doesn't want to disappoint. If only he knew what he's supposed to see, maybe he could manage a little white lie, if just to make this stop… but his world remains unchanged, with only the faint impressions his other senses provide of a reality beyond his grasp. He trembles, eyes darting fearfully. "N-nothing. Only darkness."

For a long moment, his father gazes intently into Ominis's blind eyes, as if discerning some subtle change behind the milky irises. At last he draws back with a displeased grunt.

"Worthless. But we're done here for now. We will try again with a modified spell." His voice is cold with disappointment as he turns and strides from the room, indicating the session's end. It is a relief, though for how long, Ominis is unsure. He sinks back into the velvet chair, every muscle spent. Another day of agony awaited on the slim hope that this time, this time, the magic would at last pierce the veil over his sight. For now there is only the dark, and the vast emptiness where shapes and colors should be. He bites his lip to hold back a sob. The relentless throbbing behind his eyes is nothing compared to feeling so alone. He hugs himself tightly, hears his mother walk by, but she only pats his head distractedly as she passes.

"Go play quietly now. And no more tears!"

Ominis feels a piece of chocolate be pushed into his palm - the promised reward for being good.

He remembers staggering to his feet and feeling along the wall for the door. Remembers the rough wood of the banister, the hard edge of a window seat. Remembers the number of steps to the stairs as he climbs up to his bedroom and the exhaustion that drags him under like a riptide, offering temporary escape. The piece of chocolate is quickly forgotten in Ominis' palm. What little comfort it once offered is gone. He can feel it melting against his skin, but pays it no mind. It stains his sheets as he climbs under the covers.

He remembers waking to darkness, with stinging eyes still tightly closed, afraid to face a world that sees him only as broken while he remained trapped alone within it.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #how much more can I woobie-fy ominis before it starts getting weird

774 notes · View notes

polaroidpascal · 2 months

Text

girls night out || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : after spending a night out for your friend’s birthday, you try to sneak back into the house without disturbing frankie. you thought he was a heavy sleeper, but your mischievous boyfriend never fails to surprise you.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, frankie being positively down bad for you, bar outing, alcohol consumption, reader is aware of her decisions and everyone is consenting, mechanical bull shenanigans, p in v sex (practice safe!!), grinding, riding, frankie has a filthy mouth full of praises, lotsss of nicknames, sweet aftercare bc its frankie and he's a sweetheart ofc

WC : ~3k

a/n : happy frankie friday loves !! hope you enjoy 🤭

“What bar is it again?” Frankie calls from the living room.

“It’s called ‘Deo Drinks,” you reply. “Apparently it’s new in town. Anna said she wanted to see what all the fuss is about. Supposed to be pretty nice.”

Tonight is your friend Anna’s birthday, and she wanted to take all of her best friends on a night out to a new local bar that popped up recently. According to her, it’s a nicer venue (as far as bars go, at least), so she suggested that everyone get dressed up nice for the fun of it. You look down when your phone dings, a message from Anna saying:

make sure your outfit is still practical tho! there’s something at the bar i want everyone to try <3

So here you are on a Friday evening, standing in front of your bathroom mirror perfecting your eyeliner, adjusting your hair, waiting to be picked up by your friends. You hear hefty footsteps traversing the hallway, getting closer and closer to your ensuite. You look in the mirror over your shoulder as Frankie rounds the corner. “Hey, check out these pictures of the bar—”

He cuts himself off when he finally looks up to see you. You’re wearing a sheer sparkling black shirt with a simple black tank-top underneath all tucked into your skinny jeans, the whole outfit being tied together with beautifully shiny jewelry and a pair of black heeled ankle boots. In the mirror, you catch his gaze as his eyes size you up and down, unable to pry them from all of the sparkles. You turn around and his eyes finally meet yours.

“Well? What do you think?”

“Baby… you look beautiful,” he says walking toward you, his eyes leaving yours and continuing up and down your body again. “I mean, you always do, but…” His hands trail up to rest at your hips, holding you at a distance so he can look at you.

You stare at his expression until he’s looking at you again, studying your makeup as his pupils visibly grow. You never get tired of watching your effect on him. You finally ask, “So, those pictures?”

“O-oh, right,” he stammers and brings his phone up. “There’s not very many since it’s so new, but I figured you might want to see anyway. Looks pretty cute.” You can hear the small smile creeping on his lips as you watch him scroll through the pictures. You look up again and smile at him, leaning in for a long, sweet kiss. His hands drop down to your waist to bring you closer to his body, but before he can take it further, you both hear the unmistakable sound of a car horn outside.

“That’s them,” you say, breaking away.

He steals another kiss, humming in protest before freeing you from his grip and smiling down at you. “Go ahead, then. Go have fun.” You smile back, turning away. He playfully smacks your ass and you yelp from surprise.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

You look back and give him a wink.

Your friend Emily drives the group to the bar, opting to be the designated driver for the night. Pulling up to the bar, you see the sign and decorations on the building: the bright red neon sign illuminating your face, wooden planks lining the building, and old, fake wooden shutters on the windows. Of course, you think. “‘Deo” for rodeo. It’s a western bar.

Suddenly, your phone goes off again:

Have a good time princess. I’ll be awake to let you in the house later, so call me when you’re on your way. Love you, don’t get too fucked up :)

You chuckle and send back a quick “will do, love you too!” before you walk in with your friends.

The rest of the night is a blast. You learn a few line dances from the regulars in the bar, eat food that’s honestly better than you expected, and drink probably a few too many shots and mixed drinks with the group.

“Guys!” Anna yells, obviously feeling the alcohol at this point. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” She huddles you all together and leans in so everyone can hear better. “There’s a mechanical bull towards the back. I want everyone to try!”

You make your way towards the back and see that, surprisingly, there aren’t many people back here. You approach the bull and everyone lines up for a turn. One by one, you all get on and see how long you can last. When your turn comes, you get an idea. You hand your phone to Emily, the only sober one of the bunch, and ask, “Could you record my turn for me?” She kindly agrees, taking your phone as you kick off your boots and mount the bull.

Back home, Frankie lounges on the couch relaxing in his sweats and a t-shirt, watching some random movie he found. When his phone chimes, he sits up to grab it, sees it’s from you, and opens the message to a video. Before he can even press play, his eyes go wide.

No fucking way…

He sits up a little straighter and presses play, watching you with bewilderment as you straddle the mechanical bull, meeting every one of its jerks with an equal but opposite rebuttal. He stares at your hips swaying perfectly to keep your balance and your free hand in the air as you exclaim, your friends in the background cheering in excitement. Frankie gazes at your shocked expression. Of course, she’s a natural. He knows exactly why you’re so good at the game, even if you might not.

You ride it so well, but I’d expect nothing less from you ;)

As if he’s being broken from a trance, he notices his sweats feel unusually tight and sees a bulge slowly growing between his legs. He curses the universe that he’s not there with you right now. Though, he probably wouldn’t be able to contain himself anyway, so maybe it’s for the best. He decides that what he really needs is a shower to take care of his… issue.

But nothing will keep that video off his mind for the rest of the night.

By the end of the outing, the only one who can reliably hold her footing is Emily. Birthday girl Anna is by far the drunkest of the bunch, and while you are really not that far behind her, you might be holding your liquor the best of the group. Emily rallies everyone in the car for a ride filled with loud karaoke and copious slurred compliments to each other as she chauffeurs each girl back to their house. You are the second to last passenger to be dropped off, but Emily had planned on staying at Anna’s house anyway, so you were the last stop.

“Do you need me to walk you in?” she asks with a gentle smile through the open window.

“No, no, ‘s okay. Frankie said he left the door open… or something. I don’t remember.” His text from earlier completely slips your mind. “I think he’s sleeping anyway,” you continue with a giggle.

“Okay, I’ll stay here until I see the door close behind you just to make sure you make it in. Goodnight!” she replies.

“G’night!” you say, turning around and making your way to the door. You turn the doorknob as slow as you can and find that Frankie did in fact leave it open for you, but when you walk in, most of the lights are already turned off. You turn and wave to Emily as she pulls off, closing the front door as slowly and quietly as you can. You slip off your boots and leave them at the door, shuffling over to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

You creep back to your bedroom in methodic yet messy steps, reaching your bathroom. You smear a makeup wipe across your face in a lazy, drunken attempt to clean it up a little and slip into some random comfy clothes that you aren’t sure are yours or Frankie’s, but you don’t really care. Gazing into your bed, you see Frankie’s silhouette, laying on his side under the covers, and you feel a warmth bloom in your chest, thinking about how lucky you feel being able to come home to him.

As you reach down to climb into bed, every intention to spoon Frankie until you fall asleep, you’re interrupted by a hand gently grabbing your forearm. You let out a tiny gasp of surprise. “Frankie?”

“Hey, sweetheart. You made it home alright,” he says sweetly, turning over and sitting up some.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Did you really think I’d go to sleep before I made sure you got home safe?”

You look down a bit, suddenly remembering his text from earlier. “Hmm… no, I guess not. But I definitely forgot you told me you’d be up,” you reply bashfully.

“I heard you as soon as you walked through the door, anyway.” A grin breaks out across his mouth.

Your eyebrows raise, surprised. “Really?”

He lets out a chuckle. “I know you tried, but you weren’t really that good at keeping the noise down.”

You look down and giggle too. You really thought you were being quiet.

“Plus,” he continues, “I couldn’t sleep if I tried, thinking about that goddamn video you sent earlier.”

You think for a second and remember. Ohh, the bull. You grin back at him seeing his eyes grow dark merely remembering it. And now that you’re finally back in front of him, he’s ravenous. “Oh really?” you tease. “You liked it?”

“Liked it? Baby…” he says, reaching up to grab your sides and pull you closer into a gentle but hungry kiss. He pulls away, his lips mere centimeters from yours, and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

You see a glimmer of desperation in his eyes underneath his playful tone and nod. He kisses you again, a little sloppier this time as he guides you to straddle him. You lean down and melt into his lips, your tongues waltzing together. You can already feel the outline of his cock stiffening up in his pants and you subconsciously guide your hips up and down the growing bulge.

He growls into your mouth and you swallow the noise, suddenly aware of the warm wetness growing between your legs. You keep grinding, feeling him get harder and harder, moving your kisses across his cheek and down his jaw. He groans as you lick the muscle flexing on his neck when he tilts back to give you better access. You kiss back up to his ear, nipping at the lobe and whisper softly, “Touch me, Frankie…”

His hands wander down from your face to the bottom of your shirt and he pulls it off over your head freeing your tits to the colder air of the room. His lips immediately attach to you, licking and sucking at your nipple and drawing sweet moans from your lips. He hums back at you, the vibrations reverberating against your skin and moving down between your legs as another wave of wetness fills your panties.

“Frankie… need you inside…” you whine, his tongue furiously working against the hardening bud. “Please…”

“Mmm, always such a needy girl,” he says. “Be a little patient. I missed you.” He helps you out of your soaked underwear and sees just how wet you are. “Fuck princess, you really are needy…”

His hand resting on your hip glides over to your middle, his thumb ghosting over your clit as your hips buck forward chasing the new sensation. You whine as he slowly, agonizingly teases the sensitive bundle of nerves and stares at your face watching it contort with pleasure.

“Yes, Frankie… needy jus’ for you… all you…” you whimper breathlessly at his touch. He loves when you’re like this, losing yourself to the sensations he gives you, soaking him with your slick. He can feel your wetness soaking through his sweats as your naked core rubs against his fingers and clothed cock.

“Goddamn, gorgeous. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he teases, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, please…” you mewl. You keep grinding against him, the pressure in your lower belly building quicker and quicker. “Fill me up… please… wanna come on your cock…”

A guttural moan rumbles in his chest at that and he lifts you slightly to free his throbbing cock from his pants, precome already making the tip sparkle. He loses the pants completely and he guides you to lower down onto him. “Thaaat’s it baby… fuck, feel so good and warm,” he encourages, your walls welcoming him with every inch added inside. You gasp and moan at the stretch despite being so wet that you’re practically dripping for him. You quickly settle and feel positively stuffed. “Perfect fit. Pussy was made for me, princess.” He brings you down for a deep kiss before he says, “Now, show me how you rode that bull.”

You sit up and rest your hands on his chest for support as you slowly rock your hips forward and backward, gripping his shirt as you go. Sinful moans fill the room when you glide forward feeling the skin on his belly rub perfectly against your clit at the same time. “Fuck, Frankie…”

“Doing so good princess,” he praises, using his hands on your hips to help guide you back and forth, encouraging you to slowly pick up speed. “Yeah, ride me like you rode that bull, baby. Fuck… show me how good you are.” You sit up and pick up speed a bit at the praises he gives you, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. “Yes, beautiful. You’re so good. Gonna come on my cock baby?”

Your walls flutter around him and he groans at the feeling. “Mhm,” you reply in a high-pitched whine and a nod. You claw at his shirt wanting to feel his skin. “Want this off. Wanna feel you.”

Frankie lifts up a little, ripping the shirt off his body and tossing it off the bed. Your hands roam his chest, feeling him up and down. Your face contorts at the sudden tightness in your abdomen. “Gonna come for you… oh my god…”

“That’s it, keep going… come for me baby, let me feel you squeeze me.. so good…” Frankie drives his hips up just a little as you grind yourself to a shaking orgasm on top of him, crying out in pleasure and collapsing onto his chest. He wraps his arms around you and keeps fucking into you, letting you ride out your orgasm on top of him.

He keeps going, slower now as you come down from your high, holding you in place with those perfectly muscular arms. “My good little cowgirl, wish I could have been there to watch you earlier,” Frankie praises as he moves and you’re teetering on the edge of overstimulation. While you’re still a little dazed from the booze, your senses are heightened nonetheless, and he fills them all. His scent fills your nose as you bury it into the crook of his neck, you feel his burning touch wrapped around your body, and you hear the sweet sounds and praises he mutters into your ear.

“Frankie… ‘m gonna come again…” you manage to whimper out.

“Already princess? Feels that good, huh?” he teases, but he’s barely holding on himself. You can feel the unmistakable throbbing of his cock inside of you. “Go ahead, baby. Come on my cock… not gonna last too much longer either…”

The rolling waves of pleasure overtake you quicker than you thought they would. Without a chance to warn him, you convulse under his touch, soaking him in your pleasure and writhing on top of him. Your muffled cries fill the room and send Frankie into a frenzy, fucking into you with sloppy, hard thrusts.

“Fuck yes, baby… ’m so close… my little cowgirl, ride me so good… fuck!” he yells and quickly pulls out, dropping one hand from around your body to pump his length, spilling all over his stomach in between your bodies. His legs shake and so do yours, barely able to keep yourself hovered over him. You meet his grunting with your own whimpering as you both pant your way through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You stay laying on his chest, still held there by Frankie’s other arm and panting into his neck. Your tired eyes stay closed and you just want to lay right here on top of him with his sticky mess between you both. And you do, for a while, Frankie unable to completely catch his breath from the ride you just gave him, until he finally chirps up, “I knew you’d be an expert, princess.”

You smile and giggle. You remember hoping earlier when you sent him that video that it would drive him crazy like this, and your plan worked. “Knew you’d wanna see it first hand,” you murmur through tiredness, lingering alcohol, and complete fucked-out bliss.

He gently flips you over and lays you in the bed, getting up to retrieve a towel and clean up his mess. He wipes his stomach walking back over to the bed and gently does the same to you, pressing a kiss right below your belly button. You hum quietly and he gives you another kiss on your forehead. When Frankie climbs back into bed, you tuck yourself into his arms getting swallowed in his embrace, both of you wiggling into a comfortable position before you sigh, satisfied in every way you possibly could be.

“Goodnight, cowgirl,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. He can tell from the feeble attempt at a response that you’re nearly asleep, and he hugs you a little tighter before you both doze off together.

a/n : could possibly have a fluffy little sequel for this if anyone would ever maybe want that...

#francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #im nothing if not delusional

275 notes · View notes

soaringthroughthegalaxy · 2 months

Note

hi!! just read both of your wrecker works and rineicbeijcwjkdjs LOVED THEM!! wrecker’s my fav of tbb and i really feel like he needs more love😭 i'm gonna be checking out some of your other works later lol

anyways i saw that you were taking requests, so i went through your prompt list and saw two that caught my eye. they're 24. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” and 18. “I almost lost you.”

i was wondering if you could write something with those prompts for wrecker please? like tbb + reader were able to rescue omega, crosshair, and tech (i am believer in tech surviving season 2 finale), but the reader got seriously injured during the rescue and is now in a coma. wrecker would be the one to say the prompts and it would be angsty like wrecker thinking the reader might die. but please let this end happily.

other than those details i trust your writing skills and process for anything! take your time writing, there's absolutely no rush!! and again your writing is soooo awesome!!😊😊

Well hello there!

I'm so glad you enjoyed those fics, and thank you for popping this request in - so sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope it hits the spot 😁

I guess it's also technically canon divergent now S3 is out, haha 😅

Through the Darkness

No one said rescuing the rest of the Batch from Mount Tantiss would be easy - you just didn't expect it to go like this.

Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, reader in a coma for a bit, little bit of angst, but also dashes of hope, happily ever after.

Translations: sarad - flower

Hemlock has his hands on you, his blaster pressed to your temple. The sounds of fighting cease. Dead TK Troopers litter the floor. Wrecker and his siblings freeze, slowly lowering their weapons.

Your back is pressed to Hemlock’s chest, and there isn’t a clean shot at him.

“Anyone moves and your dear liaison will pay the price,” Hemlock states.

Rage flows through Wrecker. You were in danger, too far for him to grab and shield, and he had no idea what to do. He glances at his siblings – Omega curled against Hunter’s side with weariness painted on her face, Tech leaning heavily against Echo for support as his body protests the prolonged time standing. Crosshair had peeled off from the group earlier, searching for what or who none of them was sure. They were all back together again. A family again. He wasn’t about to let Hemlock take you from them.

Shakes start in your thighs, slowly creeping up your body until your arms and hands tremble, too. You’ve been in dangerous situations before, had your life threatened before - but you’re certain Hemlock would do it. The man is crazy and will stop at nothing to get his hands on your family. The sound of his verbal back and forth with Hunter is like white noise.

The slightest movement in the rafters above catches your attention, and your eyes dart up. Battered and bruised, Crosshair has found a vantage point and a rifle. Those hawkish eyes meet yours, and a silent conversation is shared. You do the maths. There’s only one way out of this. Thank the Maker you still trust him, even after everything.

You give an almost imperceivable nod, knowing he’ll catch it. You flick your gaze to the others, taking one last look, just in case. Echo, who’d joined you all near the end of the war and had so seamlessly slipped into the fold of your family. Tech, worse for wear after his fall on Eriadu, but with that same solid determination in his eyes. Hunter, the man who’d welcomed you into the squad all those years ago, listened when you shared your thoughts and didn’t make a fuss when you broke terrible news to them about the next mission. Omega, trying to hide her fear through bravery – so much for a young girl with such a pure heart to endure. And Wrecker, the imposing force of a man who’d always put himself between you and danger, who reached for you at every opportunity and consoled you when things had gotten too much – the man you’d quietly loved for some time.

With a shaky breath, you close your eyes, placing all your faith in Crosshair. The quiet sniper who’d at first sneered at you and flicked toothpicks in your face before he’d thawed out and helped perfect your aim, taught you how to use his rifle, and what to look out for when scouting.

The sound of his shot reverberates around the hanger, and milliseconds later, searing pain tears through your shoulder, pulling a piercing cry from your lips. Legs giving out, you crumple, welcoming the cold durasteel you hit.

You don’t know if they all made it out, but you pray they did.

Wrecker hasn’t moved in weeks, refusing to leave you alone. The memory of you being shot won’t leave him; the sound of your agony is stuck on repeat. You’d been in bacta for what felt like forever, the shiny skin on your shoulder a testament to its healing power, but it wasn’t enough to wake you from the coma you’d slipped into. Pabu’s only Doctor had insisted on removing you from the tank once your physical wounds had healed, transferring you to a standard medical bed.

Crosshair’s shot had torn through your shoulder, but the angle had been perfect. Wrecker hadn’t expected any less from his little brother. The bolt had exited you and entered Hemlock, hitting him straight in the chest. A kill shot. That hadn’t killed you. Or so Wrecker hoped. Even if you woke, your shoulder would likely ache for the rest of your life, and your arm would not be as strong as before.

The sound of the door opening pulls Wrecker’s gaze from your prone form and across the small room in Pabu’s clinic. Crosshair slides through the crack in the door, thin lips pressed together, brow pinched. He visits often, guilt in his eyes every time he looks you over. You might’ve okayed the shot, but it still tore at the sniper’s soul to have hurt you.

“Nothing?” Crosshair rasps, sticking close to the door as he glances between you and his brother. He’d never admit it, but fear was starting to settle in his gut. If you didn’t wake…

“Nothin’.” Wrecker confirms, shoulders slumped. “Been talkin’ to her. Doc said she might be able to hear us. Not that it’s doin’ much good.” He sighs, gaze shifting back to you. “Told her we all got out okay. That you and Tech and the kid are alright. Don’t want her worryin’.”

Crosshair makes a slight noise, acknowledging his brother’s words as his gaze lingers on your prone form.

“You stayin’ a bit?” Wrecker asks, using one foot to push out the spare chair at his side – the rest of their siblings often visited, too.

Hesitating, Crosshair lets out a small sigh as he moves across the room, lowering himself silently into the chair. He hadn’t stayed before, preferring to flit in for any news before disappearing. It hurt too much to see you this way, knowing he’d caused it. That and he was still working through everything that had happened during his time with the Empire, trying to fix his relationships with his siblings. But Wrecker needed him, so he’d stay.

You’d always hated the dark.

The shadows surround you, pressing in from all sides. Yet amidst the inky darkness, you find yourself standing in a solitary spot of light, its glow offering a semblance of warmth amidst the chill of the void. The lights kept appearing, and you’d learned quickly that when a new one glistened on the horizon, you had to run for it before the light you were already standing in disappeared.

You’d lost track of how many lights you’d chased so far.

Each one varied in intensity – sometimes brilliant beacons, other times mere flickers barely piercing the gloom. Yet, regardless of their brightness, they all held a magnetic pull, drawing you forward with an unyielding force. And each time you reached one, a brief respite washed over you, a fleeting moment before the next journey into the unknown began.

Scanning the horizon, you spot another light starting to beckon, its faint glow a promise of safety. With a heavy heart, you know what you need to do.

Taking a deep breath, you burst into a sprint. Each step forward is a battle against the darkness, its tendrils reaching out like icy fingers, eager to drag you into its embrace. Goosebumps prickle your arms, heart pounding as fear gnaws at your insides, but a stubborn determination fuels your movements. You can’t afford to falter, to succumb to the darkness, not after everything.

Worry lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a constant reminder of uncertainty. What lay beyond the lights? Will you ever find your way back to the world you once knew? The questions taunt you, echoing in your mind relentlessly the longer you spend here.

Yet, a glimmer of hope remains amidst the fear and uncertainty. Though the darkness threatens to overwhelm you, there must be a reason for the light. There has to be something causing it. Blessing you with it. Giving you these small moments of respite and keeping you in one piece.

You keep going. One foot in front of the other.

A shove yanks Wrecker out of sleep, and the big man jolts awake with a small yelp.

Crosshair snickers, leaning back in his seat, drawing his hand back towards his chest. “Sleeping on the job, vod.” He can’t help but jibe, his smirk melting into a frown at the sound of Wrecker’s stomach growling. “When’s the last time you ate?” He asks. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, seeing him finally getting some rest, but the sun was high in the sky now, and Crosshair knew it wouldn’t be long until Omega and Hunter swung by.

Blinking, Wrecker’s mind takes a moment to catch up with the fact he’s awake. “Urm, yesterday? Maybe?” He guesses, not really sure. The days were starting to blend together.

With a huff, Crosshair stands, long legs unfolding. “Will get you something. Can’t wither away before she wakes.” He mutters, grateful for the opportunity to leave and not have to sit any longer in silence with his feelings – he’d done enough of that for the day.

With a slight nod of appreciation, Wrecker watches as Crosshair heads out the door, hearing the gentle click of it shutting behind him. Hand wiping over his face, Wrecker shifts in the chair, stretching a little. But he can’t avoid the inevitable forever, and although it pains him, he looks you over for what feels like the millionth time.

Despite his imposing stature, he feels powerless.

He hadn’t been able to protect you - the woman he loves. He’s loved you since the moment he first met you in the hanger of a Venator, as you’d been assigned to him and his brothers as their liaison. You’d offered them a smile that had rendered him speechless, and his booming laughter had then filled the hanger when you’d quipped back at Crosshair as he'd sneered about them not needing a babysitter.

You kept them on their toes and blended in so seamlessly with their chaotic lives.

Without an audience, Wrecker clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat to gently take your tiny hand in his much larger one. “I hope ya can hear me, sarad.” He starts, voice mellow. “Been a few weeks now since we got ’em back.” He’s not sure how much you’re aware of, if the passing of time is something you’re experiencing. “Cross was just here. Finally sat for a bit. Think he feels guilty.” Wrecker pauses, brows furrowing, face pinching. “I feel guilty. Should have protected ya, kept ya close.” Wrecker’s voice cracks a little, emotion seeping through.

“We’re all here, though. Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what. Can’t wait for ya to wake up and tell us all how much trouble we’re in.” He chuckles softly, a hint of sadness in the sound. “Just...ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.” He admits, a well of emotion pressing down on his chest.

Wrecker’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable even in the silence of the clinic. He wishes he could shake this feeling of helplessness and do more than just sit by your side, waiting for a sign of life. But for now, all he can offer is his unwavering presence and a steady stream of conversation, hoping against hope that somewhere within your subconscious, you can hear him.

Keep going. You need to keep going.

The darkness claws at you, desperate to slow you down and draw you into its embrace. But the light grows closer with every step you take, with every thud of your heart as you race forward. Amidst your footsteps echoing in the void is the faintest whisper of something familiar.

No.

Not something.

Someone.

“Wreck!” You cry out into the darkness, feet faltering for a second as you recognise the deep voice. The darkness tries to take advantage of your momentary hiccup, but with a yelp, you pick up your pace. The hope that lingers in your heart explodes. As you draw closer to the light, Wrecker’s voice comes into focus. “Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what.”

With renewed determination, you push yourself harder, every muscle in your body screaming for rest, but you refuse to give in. The light grows brighter, its warmth now palpable against your skin.

And then, just as you’re on the verge of stepping into the light, a sudden force knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic grips your chest as you scramble, desperate to continue your pursuit.

But the darkness has other plans, closing in around you like a suffocating blanket, obscuring the light. Amidst the coldness creeping through your body, you cling to the memory of Wrecker’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness.

Body straining, you crawl forward, ignoring the pain and exhaustion, determination burning bright within you. You don’t belong in the darkness. You belong in the light. With them. With him.

Straining, you reach out an arm, trembling fingers skimming the edge of the light as Wrecker’s voice comes through loud and clear. “…ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.”

The darkness recoils.

With a final surge of strength, you propel yourself forward, breaking free from the suffocating grip of the void. The light envelops you, wrapping you in its warm embrace as the shadows recede into the distance, getting further and further away. Relief floods through you, tears of joy mingling with sweat on your cheeks.

Head tilting back, you look up at the light, a bubble of laughter escaping as you bask in the glow. Eyes fluttering shut, you savour the moment. Yet this time, when you open your eyes, there’s no darkness or blinding light anymore.

You blink. Once. Twice. The soft hum of medical equipment fills the air. And there, beside you, is Wrecker, head bowed, the weight of his hand wrapped around yours.

Everything seems to freeze except the frantic thudding of your heart. “Wreck…” You whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse as you dare to hope you’re back. Really back.

Wrecker’s head jolts up at the rasped sound of his name, his good eye widening as he meets your gaze, your name falling from his lips as his features crumple, a heaving sob of relief escaping him.

You slowly sit up, wincing at the ache that shoots through your shoulder. It’s still tender, but the pain is nothing compared to the overwhelming flood of emotions that wash over you at the sight of Wrecker’s tear-streaked face.

You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in reality. “I’m here.” You murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him.

Wrecker’s grip tightens around your hand as if afraid you might slip away again if he lets go. He leans into your touch, his words catching in his throat momentarily before he stands, leaning over the bed to envelop you in an embrace, protective yet gentle, conscious of your shoulder. “You’re back.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Thought I almost lost ya.”

Weak but grateful, you return his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence washing over you, grounding you in reality. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of him worrying about you, thinking he would lose you. “Not going anywhere, big guy.” You reassure him, sniffling as you try to keep a lid on your emotions. “The others?” You ask cautiously, dread curling in your gut.

“All made it,” Wrecker confirms, arms slowly uncurling from around you as he sits back in his chair, hand scooping up yours so he can maintain some contact.

Your dread is swept away and replaced immediately by relief; this time, you don’t bother holding back your sobs.

“No cryin’, pretty girl. Please.” Wrecker’s heart aches at the sight, his free hand moving to cup your face and wipe away the tears.

You smile through your tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. Wrecker’s touch is like a lifeline. “Sorry.” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to reign in your feelings. “Just...so relieved.”

Wrecker offers you a tender smile. “No need to apologise, sarad,” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. A bolt of courage has him leaning forward to gently kiss your forehead.

As Wrecker’s lips meet your forehead, warmth seeps through you, chasing away the last remnants of the dark coldness. He pulls back a little, his gaze meeting yours, and the air feels electric. Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as your lips finally meet his in a soft, tentative kiss.

And you realize that amidst the chaos and darkness, love has always been the guiding light, leading you back to where you belong.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees

183 notes · View notes

backtothefanfiction · 3 months

Note

Hiii! i love your writing 😘 if your ok with writing this could i request some fluffy dad!felix catton if you have any in store?! again, totally understand if your uncomfortable writing this or just don’t want to 😊😊

It’s taken me a while to get to this because I’ve been struggling to find my way in when it comes to Felix as a Dad. I’m not sure if I do have a Dad!Felix fluff in me but I do have some thoughts/head canons on Felix as a Dad as a whole I’m slowly developing. So here are those…

Felix is all in in the newborn stage. It’s a novelty for him. The easy stage before they find their voices and start screaming the place down. When all you have to do is hold them, feed them, change them. He’s so there for that.

He’s happy to get up in the middle of the night, looking out the windows at the grounds with a baby in his arms, telling stories and recounting memories of his youth and that time running around the grounds with Farleigh and Venetia.

He loves see you with HIS child. He’s very protective. While you lie in his bed with tea and toast, feeding your child he shoos everyone else from the room, not wanting to share that sight or special time with anyone else in the family. Venetia is the only one who occasionally slips through the cracks. (She is a great aunt to your child by the way)

When the baby starts to grow older though he begins to struggle. You are a very hands on parent in comparison to him and he’s happy for you to be. After all his mother was very hands on with him and Venetia, however as a child he never saw his Dad there as much as his Mum and so has adopted a similar way of thinking that of his father and grandfather that fussing kids is a Mother problem.

Don’t get me wrong, he still loves showing up to be the fun dad. Running across the lawns with them. Enabling their hobbies and paying for anything they want. But when it comes to the hard stuff you feel completely abandoned.

As time goes on you realise you aren’t on the same wave length about parenting at all. And a lot of that has to do with Felix’s upbringing and family.

Elspeth is always there to step in and make a fuss, forcing herself on her grandchildren like she makes everything better, but often (especially if a child is already in a tantrum state it can sometimes make it worse until she just hands the child back and leaves you with a screaming child.

When Felix’s mates come knocking, asking him to go on golfing or skiing holidays with them it’s always “you’ve got this, haven’t you babe? Great. I love you. See you in a week.”

And because that’s how Felix was raised, what he observed from his family over the years, he honestly knows no better.

“If you’re struggling we can just get a Nanny.” He says when you confront him. It always has you seeing red. “I don’t want a Nanny Felix. I want US to raise our kids.”

You realise the only way things will change is if you all get out of that house and away from his family. So you give him the ultimatum: “it’s either us or your family.”

Of course it’s that honour in him, that unspoken traditional allegiance to your wife and kids that has him reluctantly agreeing, hoping in a few months you’ll see sense and see how difficult it is without all the servants and his daddy’s money. But you thrive, despite the way Felix shuffles his feet and does the bare minimum in protest.

After another argument where you tell him to show up or fuck off back to his family he finally takes you seriously and the more time he spends with you and your family and more modest hands on parenting and living styles he begins to thrive, seeing that the grass can be greener on the other side.

The more time away from his family he sees how toxic his families dynamic is. When you visit he sticks up for his kids and is protective of them when his parents begin to push their values and views on his kids.

You stand by him as he begins to put in boundaries and really analyse his life, his youth, his privilege and how it has in fact hindered him in life in so many basic ways. You support him and feel pride when he helps enforce those boundaries around his parents, his family as he ultimately gives them the same ultimatum you gave him all those years ago.

Although his father is reluctant, Elspeth is desperate to know her grandchildren and apologised to you both and promises to respect your parenting choices and swears to try and uphold those values in front of your children as much as she can.

With the new boundaries in place, summers in Saltburn become regular things for your kids. All of you playing together on the grounds. Chasing each other through the maze. Swimming in the pool and the lake.You and Felix set up scavenger hunts for your kids. And they ultimately grow up with the best of both worlds.

So yeah. Those are my more realistic Dad Felix thoughts. Tell me what you think….

#felix catton imagine #dad!felix #Felix Catrin #Felix catton x reader #dad!felix x reader #felix catton fluff #Felix catton headcanons #saltburn #saltburn imagines #saltburn x reader

197 notes · View notes

leonw4nter · 2 months

Text

Boy So Pretty, You’re All I See

Boyfriend!RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

“It feels so good to be back home for the break,” you softly sigh as you drive your rental car to your parents’ house. There’s about 5 minutes left for the drive, the both of you tired from various flights but still excited to see your parents again.

“Yeah. I was starting to miss Mr. and Mrs. L/N,” Leon sheepishly admits. “Mrs. L/N’s chicken curry tastes heavenly.”

His words tug a little giggle out of you; if anything, your parents might be missing Leon more than they do with you– they’ve basically taken him in as their own son. Your parents spoil him each time they get to see him: packing him food that he loves whenever it’s time for you two to go back home, giving him stress-relieving teas, making sure he always takes his vitamins and whatnot. You’re thankful that you’ve got parents who treat Leon so warmly, especially since he’s been an orphan for most of his life and have probably only felt this kind of parental love now.

“My parents will be hugging you first before they rush over to me. They’ll probably make sure you sit down before I do but I know you love the attention.” You tease, which tugs the corners of Leon’s boyish, pink lips skyward.

“Maybe.”

After the final turn to a street, you finally spot your parents’ house. Leon sits up, adjusting his round glasses and pushing it up at his nose bridge; his eyes shimmer with anticipation, probably charging up with a cuddly bear hug for both your parents as soon as he’s done helping you lug your bags inside.

You pull up into the driveway and do the backing, parking the car neatly before pulling the key off of the ignition and opening the door to get out. Before you could even pull the handle, Leon zips up from his seat and briskly runs over to your side, almost tripping over himself in the process just to be the one to open your door. He finally gets to your side, slightly out of breath. Along with the chillier weather, his cheeks and the tips of his ears are flushed pink and his glasses have slid down his nose again, the lenses foggy.

“Whatever happened to ‘ladies first’?” You ask with a playful smirk, stepping out of the driver’s seat.

“I can always close your door and walk back inside so you can get out first–,” he playfully proposed as he started to close the door at a snail-like pace.

“On second thought.” You interrupt as you push the door open and finally step outside, flashing Leon a toothy grin.

You two walk to the back of the car, lifting the trunk to take out the luggages and bags you two had brought along. Of course, Leon opted to take the heavier ones so you’d get the lighter ones instead (ever the gentleman that he is).

“Normally, I’d say ‘take a picture, it’ll last longer’ but you’ve already got so much pictures of my arms on your phone and I worry for your storage,” he quips as he notices your shameless ogling at his arms and hands. Despite his attention being turned to taking suitcases out, he still managed to catch a glimpse of you from the corner of his eyes.

“Shut up!” You protested. “I do not have a photo album of your arms, you’re just vain.” You do, in fact, have a photo album full of pictures of his arms. It’s not your fault when they look absolutely munchable especially now that the sleeves of his navy blue bomber jacket are rolled to his elbows, showcasing the pale blue of veins beneath his skin.

Shortly after, all the suitcases were out and the trunk is now empty. With a click to the doorbell, you two wait on the front steps with thrilled smiles. Before you know it, your dad opens up the door and in the blink of an eye his face lights up. He hugs you tight, patting your back as he goes on about how long he’s missed you and your boyfriend.

“Honey, what’s all that fuss about? Close the door!” You hear your mom call out from somewhere in the house.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N!” Leon happily booms. Even if you two don’t even see her yet, he’s already got his arms above his head and are waving them. Your mom dashes for the door at a comical speed, her own face lighting up like your dad’s when she sees Leon.

“Leon!” she gushes as she jogs over to Leon and gives him a warm welcome hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Never felt better, ma’am.”

“That’s good to hear, you’re looking better than when I last saw you! How’s law school?”

He shyly laughs, placing his hands on the pockets of his acid-washed jeans. “Aw, psh. You don’t look so bad yourself, ma’am. You’re radiant! Law school’s alright, it gets a little complicated at times but that’s nothing I can’t deal with, right?”

Your mom blushes at the compliment, unadulterated glee radiating off of her and rubbing off on everyone else. You and your dad finally finish catching up on life for the past few months, your mom ushering everyone inside for some snacks.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“That sounds amazing, honey! I’m very proud of you.” Your mom happily remarks, setting down a bowl of hard pretzels. You just finished going over all the events in your life, not missing a single detail. You proudly shared to her about how your grades have risen, along with being the semester's Dean's lister.

“Feel free to have some, kids. I’m sure the plane food wasn’t too fulfilling.”

“Thanks, ma’am.” Leon says as he reaches to take a pretzel. You decide not to have any since you felt quite full but knowing your boyfriend’s black hole stomach, he doesn’t have it in him to resist a treat or two. He takes a bite and shuts his eyes, humming in delight as he chews the snack.

“God, these taste amazing!” Leon marveled. “What brand is this? The saltiness, the crunch– it’s all perfect!”

Your mom giggles, sitting even closer to your dad as a pleased smile graces her features, the smile lines in her eyes deepening.

“I made these, actually. I’m glad you can’t get enough of them!” she responds.

Leon’s mouth nearly drops open, the tips of his ears turning warm with an accompanying flush.

“Oh! Wow… they’re just so… these are divine! No wonder they’re wonderful, your cooking always hits!” He beams as he throws two thumbs up.

“Gosh, Leon, leave some for my dad! He loves mom’s pretzels too!” You giggled as you watch Leon slowly empty the bowl, one spiece at a time.

“Oh!” He stops and chews up the pretzels in his mouth. His entire face turns red, the room suddenly feeling a lot warmer than it was. “I’m sorry, sir!”

Your dad roars with laughter instead, taking his mug of hot cocoa and bringing it near his face. “Don’t fret, son. I’ve already had some earlier, just help yourself.”

He brings the mug up to his lips, taking a nice sip before setting it back down and asking you questions of all sorts from school to your part-time job then friends, and the weather back at the state you’re studying in. You answer them happily, Leon occasionally chiming in with answers of his own.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After tugging your bags up the stairs and into your room, you and Leon climb into bed and cuddle. He is splayed on your belly, arms wrapped around your lower back as you idly stroke his soft hair whilst talking about random nonsense and giggling. You had Leon’s glasses on, talking about how his lenses makes everything look trippy.

“Damn, you can’t see without these. What a loser,” you jokingly mumble as you crane your head here and there, getting a full glimpse of everything.

Leon lifts his head up from your stomach, pouting and narrowing his eyes whilst his bangs partially covered his sight but that doesn’t mean anything if what he’s looking at is the greatest view possible: you.

“Then that makes me your loser,” he groggily mumbles as he gently takes your and presses a delicate kiss to your knuckle, letting his lips stay pressed and warm up that region of your hand for a little longer before he pulls them away and looks up at you, flashing you soft puppy eyes– eyes that embodied a raindrop on a blue Lobelia. You two just stared at each other for a moment, warm silence settling between you two until your mom knocked at the door and came in.

“Hey, kids. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” she says as she scans you and Leon. He sits up, gently plucking his glasses from your face as he puts them on and turns his attention to your mom, running his slender fingers through his hair as he tries to fix it. You two respond that she wasn’t barging into anything, much to her relief.

“So… I’ve recently gotten into knitting and I figured that since you two are here and the weather is cold and I’ve got a knitting pattern for sweaters, I decided to get knit these up for you guys,” she excitedly says as she takes her hands from behind her back and walks over to you both, setting down knitted sweaters on your laps.

The sweaters are chunky but cute: perfect for looking good on a cold day. They’re both in a piggy pink shade, red heart patterns all over the clothing. Both the sweaters look oversized but the one that looks significantly bigger could be Leon’s; your mom placed it on his lap after all.

“I know you like your shirts and sweaters oversized so I sized yours up by a little bit,” your mom explains. “You don’t have to take Leon’s anymore. The poor boy gets cold too, ya know.”

Leon smirks and your face burns in slight embarrassment, hiding it behind the soft yarn of your new article of clothing while she laughs good-naturedly.

“Valentine’s Day is coming up in two days too. You two will finally have something matching to wear when you’ll go on a date. That’s enough from little old me, I’ll leave you two to go canoodle or something.”

Your mom turns on her heel to leave your bedroom but you bolt up from your bed and give her a nice hug from the back, which she returns.

“Thanks, mom. You’re the best. Thank you for this and for everything else– thanks for treating Leon nicely,” you softly admit. She stays there for a bit, leaning a little into your touch.

“You're welcome, honey.” She responds. “I can tell he loves you very much and you do too so I’m making sure you two have the best time ever while under my roof, okay?”

You nod, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before unwrapping your arms around her and watching her close the door on her way out.

“You’re lucky to have a mom like that. She’s really nice. She’s an amazing woman, she raised you well,” Leon softly whispers.

“Yeah. I owe everything to her, so I’m doing my best to live in a way that doesn’t worry her or anything.”

He smiles and opens up his arms, gesturing for you to come closer. You come closer and you two hug, breathing in the comforting scent that is solely his. You stay like this for a few more moments before you pull away, excitement all over your face.

“So… how about we try on these sweaters? Don’t they look cute?”

“Sure.”

Leon decides to try the sweater on before you do, shedding his jacket and shirt, which you help him with. Taking his shirt off was a lot more giggly than you thought, Leon being ticklish whenever you do so (and you weren’t exactly careful as you took it off, wanting to make him giggle hard). He finally tries it on and he looks absolutely handsome. He looks so geeky and nerdy you can’t help but pinch his cheeks, causing the spot where you pinched to look a little more pink.

“Oops,” you apologize.

You try your own sweater soon and you do finish up, also looking adorable. You hear your dad from downstairs announcing dinner so you two quickly change out of the sweaters in order to not get it stained, ready to go have some food before a snuggly movie night.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Two days later.

The sun is out, only a few cotton-like clouds dotting an otherwise clear sky. The weather is still cold, people in the streets out with their puffer coats, jackets, and scarves. You and Leon wore the matching sweaters from days ago, proudly showing off the work of your mom.

“God, I promised myself that I wouldn’t be doing cringey couple-y things like these when I get a boyfriend,” you mutter to yourself as you roam the streets with Leon.

“Look at you now, younger you would be disappointed,” he quips as he clicks his tongue and gently shakes his head.

“She just didn’t know what an absolute eyecandy of a boyfriend she would end up with.”

“Don’t call me ‘eyecandy’ before my ego inflates to three times its size.”

You roll your eyes and link your arm with his but not before readjusting his red scarf and taking pictures of him in every lighting angle possible; he’s just too cute to not be taking pictures of! You already made a trip to the flower shop earlier, getting Leon a pretty bouquet arrangement of baby’s breath, white and baby pink tulips, and baby pink lilies of the valley. Leon also got you a bouquet and when he realized that you got him one too, he insisted on bringing it along to whatever date you planned. You did tell him to bring bread but that’s all he knows. After a leisurely walk, you two were now alongside a pond with a scenic picnic spot but you two weren’t here for a picnic. Hand on his wrist, you tugged him to you and urged him to run with an ecstatic beam on your radiant face. After a little bit, you got behind him and tip-toed to be able to reach his eyes and cover them.

“Hold on, Leon. The surprise is yet to come,” you pant since you were still out of breath from the running.

“I thought the surprise was the sudden jogging session we had,” he breathily jokes.

“Can you take your hands off now?” Despite him asking, he doesn’t make any effort to move your hands away from his sight.

“Hold on, baby. I need to get this right,” you respond. You wait for a few more moments and then they finally come out. Slowly, you take out your hands from his eyes and point to the group of them. “Vóila! Surprise, baby!”

He looks a bit confused but his face instantly lights up with the brightness of a million happy suns clustered on his soft, rosy features. He finally sees a raft of ducks on the water, along with yellow ducklings. The stars align on the blue sky that are his eyes, dazzling amidst a canvas of blue as his grin grows even broader at the sight of the birds on the water with their feathery little tails wagging. He nearly drops the bouquet you got him out of pure excitement at seeing the ducks, tears probably forming at his waterline.

“Baby– There’s– Babe– Ducks!” is all he can muster at this moment. He hands you his bouquet while he takes his phone out and furiously heads over to the Camera app, clicking several pictures of this core memory forming right this very moment.

You remembered seeing Leon watch videos of people feeding ducks at ponds and sat through many of his talks about how much he wanted to see a duck in real-life and give it bread, no matter how silly he sounds or will probably look (since almost everyone has seen a duck at least once or twice in their life while he hasn't). You didn’t make fun of him at that moment: seeing Leon fuss over images of cute ducks he found on the Internet seemed to heal his inner child, letting himself revel in something so innocent and simple as a cute animal. Since there wasn’t a pond with ducks nearby your college and dorm, you two had to make do with cute duck videos which seemed to be enough for Leon. Remembering that there’s a pond near home, you decided to seize this opportunity to take him on a duck feeding date, hence the bread you asked him to bring along.

You took your own pictures of Leon taking his pictures of the ducks. You felt proud at seeing sunshine and rainbows radiate from Leon, the world falling into a peaceful silence and tranquility– it felt as if it’s just you, him, and nature. He pockets his phone, taking the bread and ripping off tiny pieces to feed to the ducks.

“Having fun sweetheart?” you sweetly ask.

“Tons! Loads!” he simply replies.

He hands you a half of his bread and you tear off tiny pieces and begin tossing it to the small duck family waddling in the water. You two do this in total silence– a comfortable one. You take out the digital camera from your pocket, powering it on and focusing it on the trees, grass, and ducks.

“Leon! Say ‘hi’ for the camera!”

For you, ‘forever’ isn’t exactly a word fitting for people since all our times will end; rather, ‘forever’ is a word fitting for treasures like these. Treasures like Leon and all the happiness you can attribute to him.

“Hi!” He waves, shooting the camera a charming smile. “Hi kids, this is your dad! I’m very happy to be feeding this ducks. Sometime in the future, I hope I can take you here!”

You blush a little bit, red creeping up your cheeks and filling the apples in with color. It flustered you to think that Leon would want to start a family with you, to see little version of yourselves running around in your future home. “Y/N, don’t these ducks look cute! See? Look at that one! The little bro looks so cute! The way their little tails wag– oh my God I’m going to pass out, they’re too adorable for me! Sweetheart, how does owning a duck sound like? What if I take a duck home with me? Baby!”

NOTE - 1 fic down, six or seven more to go!!! My Leon photocards finally came home and they look SOOOO good!!! My friend gave me the package in class and it looked like we were passing zaza (which is illegal, where I'm from). One of my teachers literally eyed the package in my desk and I literally had to repeat that this is just an unopened package 😭 Also we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in philosophy class, which was fun. What was NOT fun was Banana Fish, like that damn anime broke me-- I literally just read the wiki and I already fell apart so this is my cue to swear to never watch that anime (my bff made me watch the final ep in class and I bawled, like I fucking sounded like a lawn mower). Also please listen to "the way you say hello" by tiffy and City Girl, I listened to that while writing this and on GOD I was turning with green with envy bc y/n and Leon r 2 sweet. That's it and I hope you enjoyed this fic!!! Happy Valentine's Day!!!!!! <333333

The dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

169 notes · View notes

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 4 months

Note

Hi! Sorry to bomb you with another idea ( and absolutely no rush, as I know you probably have a full plate currently!)

But here's a cute idea for Garrick fluff content. It's that time of month for reader and she can't get a break with training etc but Garrick makes it his priority for cuddles and interrupts a training or something to make it happen. I just feel Garrick would be the prefect guy to have around for the not so lovely time of the month.

warning: period and period blood

Dragon weeks

Everything hurt. Everything. There wasn't a part of your body that wasn't aching. You had woken up in the middle of the night with a dull pain in your lower stomach but you simply were too exhausted to care and it also wasn't all that bad back then. You had simply pulled at your boyfriend's hand. Carefully nuzzling his warm palm on your stomach as you cuddled into him more. That had been enough of a relief for you and sleep had taken over you almost immediately.

Just your luck had run out by the morning. You had woken up feeling so uncomfortable and sore that even the thought of moving was irritating. Not to mention the ice-cold bed now that Garrick was gone. A sharp pain shot through your stomach as you twisted into yourself. Already feeling the dampness between your thighs. Maker if you will have to wash the sheets too...

That had been the first thing that had made you cry that morning. Hands submerged in ice-cold water you scrubbed at the stains, desperately trying to get them out. The logical side of your brain kept telling you that it was fine. Things like that happen. And most importantly- Garrick didn't care. Your periods had never been on cue. It had always fluctuated - a couple of days give or take. So accidents like that happen if your body didn't send you a warning prior. And it had happened with Garrick too. I mean you two had been together for four years now it was almost inevitable.

"I'll get it", he had muttered that absolutely awful morning when you had got out of bed only to be met with a giant red stain. "No, please, get out", you had tried to push at his chest but it was like moving a mountain. "That's not happening because I'm taken care of this", he said softly scooping you up in his hands and carrying you towards the bath. You had shrieked as his hand brushed over the stain on your clothes as he lifted you but he muttered the same thing, "Still don't care, darling".

After another cry over that you had managed to pull yourself together to get down to breakfast. You knew that neither Garrick nor Xaden would be there because the two had been going on morning patrols. Then probability a handful of meetings. You had a class of first-years to teach and to say that you weren't looking forward to that would have been an understatement. "You good?", Bodhi asked as you slipped to sit next to your friends. "How do I look like?", you said with a roll of your eyes, scrunching your nose up at every food that was on the table. Everything looked and smelled disgusting this morning.

"Well, truthfully like sh-", Imogen's hand came in contact with the back of Bodhi's head. "You just look tired. Have you been sleeping?", she asked instead, an oddly concerned look on her face. Right, so you did look like shit then. "I'm fine, don't fuss over me", you waved her off, standing up to get away from all the smells. "Hey, you didn't eat anything yet", Bodhi protested. "I will later on", you promised with a smile. "Garrick would not be happy with this", Bodhi pushed, pointing to a plate that was for you and still was untouched. "Good thing that he's not here then", you shrugged your shoulders and walked away.

You were more than happy that most cadets had enough respect to not comment on your sloppy performance today. You had ushered them to the mats and for the most part, only commented on their on one combat skills. Casually leaning against pillars or a wall. Water bottle clenched between your fingers. teeth gritted as you tried to keep standing upright. "You'll break your knuckles if you punch like that, engage your wrist", you called out right as the gym door opened with a bang.

You swayed slightly. Catching a pair of pretty, pretty but pissed eyes. "Class is over, out", Garrick called out firmly. Probably making at least a couple of the newbies shat themselves as they hurried away. "Hey, you ain't in charge here", you crocked out but that only earned a deathly glare from your boyfriend. "Move your asses, how long would it take for you to mount if we were under an attack", he snarled, pushing some of the slower ones out himself. "Garrick", you called out in a warning manner.

"Oh don't you Garrick me", he turned with a scowl, "What the fuck are you doing today?". He was a couple of steps away from you now. "I'm working just like you", you said through gritted teeth. You knew that he would see through your bullshit. This was Garrick after all. "You have pain sweat all over your face, and you're hunched over, do you need me to continue?", he was firm but you knew there was nothing but love beneath it. "Geez you sure know how to hype a girl up", you sassed back, brushing your fingers over your face. The movement instantly sent daggers through your body as you whined.

Garrick's arms are around you in an instant. "I'll lift you, might be slightly uncomfortable at first", he informed you not waiting for your approval. "You're not carrying me through the halls like some injured deer", you grumbled, trying to push away from him but only causing yourself more discomfort. "Love, you look like you are about to faint so just give up the hero act and let me look after you", Garrick pressed you closer to him. "How did you even...", you breathed out. "You had pulled my hand onto your stomach", he said simply. "But I do that constantly", you argued back. "Yes, but you had that uncomfortable pout too".

No one even dared to look at you two. Well, considering that Garrick kept his frown on even if he spoke softly to you. "Shower, bed, food, cuddles", he stated as he kicked open your bedroom door. "Was that an order?", you teased him, already feeling slightly better now that he was with you. "One that you better obey or I will tie you to the bed", he grumbled, kneeling to unlace your shoes. "Kinky", you breathed making Garrick chuckle. "Get your cute ass into the shower. I'll fetch you some chicken soup", he muttered, leaning in to kiss you a couple of times. "Can you also ask for something to ease the pain?", you would do it yourself but the thought of going up and down the stairs. Garrick reached for his back pocket, pulling out a little bottle, you gasped in surprise. "You didn't", you muttered. "I keep on one me at all times, love. You should know that by now", he said with a smug smile. "Garrick Tavis you are one of a kind", you muttered leaning in to kiss him once more. "Only for you baby, only for you", he muttered against your lips.

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis x you #garrick tavis x oc #garrick tavis fourt wing #garrick tavis iron flame #iron flame imagine #iron flame x reader #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader

212 notes · View notes

missgavi · 1 year

Note

Omg you’re so right gavi would be such a sucker for his gf!! Imagine like the other way around, him fussing over her cause like that’s HIS baby and he’s so proud 😭 I bet his teammates would be like “what did you do to our gavi ??” Lol He definitely likes to play it off like he’s not into it but he’d love a gf who’d be all over him

First of all , you are now officially my new best friend. Second of all , I would bet all of my life’s savings on Gavi obsessing over the nickname “bebe” 🤭

Another sigh escapes the boys lips. Gavi , Pedri , Pique , Alba and Robert were currently waiting for you and the rest of the girlfriend to join them in the hotel lobby. The lot of you were going out for dinner and to them it seemed you girls were taking ages to get ready.

“How much longer ?” Gavi asked his friends , looking at his watch when a small tsk-ing sound is heard behind him.

All of them turn their head to see their significant others , immediately making their way over to you.

“Tsk tsk tsk , always whining aren’t you ?” You tease but it falls on deaf ears as Pablo is way to busy taking in the way your red dress falls around you , hugging your body in all the right places.

“Ai mi vida , tu eres la chica más hermosa que he visto” you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen your boyfriend says , his lips trying to capture yours in a kiss.

Just as his lips were about to brush yours , you swerved right , the boy kissing your cheek. He tries again and this time you swerve left , giving him the other cheek.

Whining , he tries again only to miss “bebe , dejame besarte” let me kiss you

Smiling you say “you’ll smudge my lipstick” you tease playfully.

Just as he was about to protest Pedri comes out of nowhere with Linda , his girlfriend , on his arm “Stop whining you big baby”

Shooting his friend daggers he begins his rambling “Cállate Pedri. Ella es mi novia y un pintalabios no me impedirá besarla” shut up Pedri. she my girlfriend and some lipstick won’t stop me from kissing her He says before grabbing you by the back of your neck and smashing his lips against yours

Grinning into the kiss , instead of pushing him away you just pull him closer. Breaking apart you look into his deep eyes “Te quiero mucho amor” i love so much love you muse

“También bebe , también” same baby , same

#pablo gavi #gavi #gavi 30 #miss gavi drabbles #pg30 #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #fc barcelona #football #world cup #qatar22 #spain national team #fifa #fc barca #fcb #pedri gonzalez

2K notes · View notes

lazyneonrabbitt · 4 months

Text

Bath time

Daryl Dixon x reader

Daryl's early Alexandria era dislike for showers seems to be rubbing off on his kids..

🐺 🐺 🐺

"Oh my god.."

There in front of you stood your two adorable furred children, now entirely a muddy brown. And their father, less muddy brown but for sure in need of clean clothes.

"You." A stern finger pointed at Daryl. "Pups. Bathroom, now." You turned around to open doors and run the water in preperation. "And take your shoes off."

You heard Daryl kick his boots off and huff as he picked up the kids to carry them upstairs.

It wasn't difficult for them to realize where Daryl was taking then and started squirming in his grasp, trying with all their might to escape but in the end they failed and all four of you now stood in the large bathroom.

The shower was already running at a nice temperature to get the clumps of mud out of the kids' fur but it took both of your hands to keep one kid in place, let alone rinse them off and scrub their fur without having them jump out of the tub.

You needed Daryl's help. He was currently standing at the door, making sure no grubby paws grabbed at the handle and ran off, while said grubby hands were grabbing and pulling at his trousers in an attempt to escape.

"Dee, please be a dear and put her in the tub. I need help.." you admitted in defeat as Hunter slipped from your grasp and made it halfway out of the tub before Daryl's large hand had grabbed him and put him back under the shower stream together with his sister.

"Mmaaaaammm..." loud whines filled the room as they both fiercly protested.

Daryl held both pups far enough under the stream so you could rub at the clumps of mud slowly washing away.

Hunter seemed to have given up halfway through so cleaning him wasn't too much of a fuss, until the shampoo came out.

At the sight of the bottle of doggy wash he wormed out of Daryl's grip, who was more focused on keeping the ever feisty Rose under control with just one hand.

Hunter managed to hop up and out of the tub and slip on the edge, dropping his full, soaking wet body onto yours with a loud flop and sending you both to the ground.

"Ohw, come on!" You groaned as you grabbed at his slippery limbs and get yourself upright at the same time, while Daryl watched you with a shit eating grin on his face. "Looks like the lil' momma's boy weren' havin' it no more."

"Could have helped.." you mumbled as you sat your son back into the tub and shuddered at the gross wet shirt stuck to your skin.

When you got no response you looked over to him. Both his hands were on Rose, but he paid no attention to her chewing on his wrist and instead was clearly distracted by the fact you wore nothing underneath the thin, currently very see-through shirt.

"Hello? Assistance?" Struggling to keep Hunter in the tub you snapped Daryl out of his trance before he reached out to hold his son in place again.

A soft thanks was all he got before you got to rub the shampoo through Hunter's fur, making sure none got in his face. It was a huge struggle already with his paws shoving away your hands and his constant shaking, sending soapy water everywhere to the point of even getting Daryl to complain.

"Ya can't wash'em any quicker?"

Your head snapped to his side giving him a death glare before going back to make sure every inch of your son was covered in soapy bubbles and rinse him off again. "In case you forgo-- oh my god.." you spit out the soapy water that got info your mouth as Hunter shook out his fur again while still under the stream. "In case you forgot, I don't have wolf strength." You struggled to put Hunter back on his butt so you could properly rub the remaining shampoo from his fur. Maybe you overdid it a little, but he was so dirty..

"Wha? Ya can't even handle a kid?" A deep sigh left you before repeating yourself.

"No, Daryl." You state clearly. "Little human me can't handle a werewolf child with werewolf strength. Especially not when they're slippery and wet." An understanding grumble left him as he held onto Hunter's fur a bit tighter to keep him still.

His whines of protest only got more over time as Rose was still gnawing at Daryl's wrist that had bled and healed over a couple of times by now already.

Hunter's long drawn Nooo's and Mammaaa's combined with fake sniffles made an almost believable schtick if he hadn't pulled it so many times before.

"You're almost done, sit still for a minute and I'll let you out."

When he realized his tricks werent working he sulked under the water as you got rid of the last bits of soap bafore moving him out from underneath the stream.

The second he stopped feeling water on his head he full-body shook himself out, sending water all over the place.

"Oh thats just rude, baby." The towel you readied for him first went to your face to dry off before grabbing onto Hunter and wrapping him in a tight hug. It was the only way to get him out of the tub and dry him off at least a little bit.

Now that he was out of the tub and no longer a muddy threat you moved on to clean the more feral of your two children.

Daryl luckily had already moved her under the water entirely to remove large clumps while you prepared for shampooing.

With two hands holding her you were a little more confident in a quicker wash this time but wow were you wrong.

Within the first minute she had snapped at you twice.

Daryl only stared proudly at his daughter currently defending herself against the evil soap monster that was her mom. He cooed her a bit, hoping to bargain with some tasty meat as reward she'd be at least a little more calm.

But of course just as you were somewhat comfortable washing off her legs, Hunter threw his full weight into you to dry himself against your back and so shoving you forward enough to get your entire head under the water, soaking your hair.

You pushed back to sit on your heels again, throwing your head back to get your wet hair out of your face before sending an angry glare at your son out of reflex.

He quickly realized he was in the wrong and ran off, grabbing at the doorhandle and escaping the bathroom.

"Fuck.." you groaned as you turned back to cleaning off Rose, who had picked up her brother's moves and let out a laugh as she shook herself out every time your hands left her body.

"I'm taking a shower after this. You babysit and give them a treat or something."

With newly found strength you pulled through and got Rose cleaned in record time, letting Daryl handle the drying while you took off your soaked clothes and hopped into the tub.

You felt Daryl's gaze on you the entire time, complaining as Rose bit his finger when he wasn't watching her.

"Watch your kid." You pointed at her as you stepped over the tub's edge. "You can gawk at me all night long when they're asleep."

An agreeing tone sounded over the running water and a few moments later you finally got the bathroom to yourself, warming up and rinsing the shower walls off in the meantime.

It was times like these when you doubted yourself a bit, being a human raising two pups that could easily overpower you within the year. What if Rose bit you for real? Would she turn you? Can they do that at their age? The bathroom door opening caught you off guard, peeking tour head from behind the curtain you spotted Daryl standing there in clean clothes and with a worried look on his face.

He stepped up to the tub and questioned the sad emotions he was smelling all over the top floor.

You gave him a short version of your doubts as he helped you out of the shower and dried you off. "Yer a strong one, pups love ya." His hands on the towel lingered on your chest longer than needed when he leaned in for a kiss. "They jus' hate showers."

You huff out a laugh at that understatement when the door slammed against the wall and a still slightly damp Hunter clamped around your leg. "Wav momma."

"See?" Daryl gave you a smug 'told ya so' smile.

He easily wrapped you in the large towel and picked you up, careful to not smack Hunter with your foot.

Rose waddled past just as he walked through the doorway. She probably followed her big brother but her wobbly legs made climbing the stairs quite the challenge.

Once in the bedroom you were tossed onto the bed and clothes quickly followed as Daryl dug through the cabinet and threw a full outfit at your head.

You thanked him and got dressed, watching your kids try wrestle eachother to be the first one on the bed until Daryl picked them up and set them down onto the matress.

Without a second to spare the two jumped up against you for cuddles, their dad happily joining as well.

🐺 🐺 🐺

A/N: I hope you're not tired of kid content yet! I love the pups dearly and hope to be writing for them for a while longer ♡

#sometimes i write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #twd #the walking dead #twd x reader #twd imagine #the walking dead x reader #twd daryl #twd au #werewolf #werewolves #the werepups tag

230 notes · View notes