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lydiimae · 22 days

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Gentle

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, panic attack, fluff hehe, Anthony being the sweet husband ik he is

A.N: Hello my loves and hello dearest anon ^-^/! This one is a bit on the shorter side (2.5k words) but I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope I gave you what you wanted Nonnie. I imagine Anthony (I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE SEASON 3 MARRIED ANT AND KATE) as a protective and loving husband, who is also extremely gentle when he wants to be. Also, Infatuation pt two is in the works, for those that are eager (thank you btw <3 T-T) it should be out by next week at the latest. P.S I am planning on uploading at least twice a week hehe! Enjoy my dears! <3

Req found here <3

Marrying a Viscount was always going to be stressful, it came with responsibility. As well as a certain necessity to be perfect, at least that is the thought that nagged you. It was only a matter of time before the stress of being Anthony Bridgerton's wife caught up to you.

You had honeymooned in Edinburgh and Bath, all of the usual quiet places. He wished to make it just that, quiet and peaceful as both of you knew that would be one of the only times you would live in that blissful silence. Without worry of gossip, or rumors, or responsibilities.

Anthony also knew that you had a tendency to be anxious. Whether it be a result of how many people were present at a ball, or the rumors that tended to linger in your mind even after they slowly washed away from others. He wanted to show you the sights, and the gorgeous nature that was present in both of the cities that he had selected.

He also wished to show you the city of Bath. Take you to one of the large Roman baths, parade you around town, and wander the hills for hours on end. All lovely things that had taken your mind away from the lingering anxieties of being the new Viscountess.

It had worked marvelously, you had been the happiest he had seen you ever since you had met. You were completely in your element, especially when you were outside. It was a very loving, and freeing six months away.

Your leg jiggles as you fiddle with your gloves, looking out the window of the carriage as it rolls down the road to Aubery Hall. As soon as you had gotten back to England, your anxieties flooded back into your mind. You were already dreading what was going to happen. You and Anthony were already planning to attend a ball tomorrow, the first one of your marriage.

You hated it, you knew that people would talk, the women would glare and whisper, perhaps even confront you. You did not want to deal with it. You wished to be back in Bath, having a picnic with your husband, far away from the gossip.

You feel a hand on your knee and turn. "You have been antsy for four whole hours, my love. What is it?" He asks, moving his hand to yours and giving it a squeeze. You chew on your bottom lip and settle for resting your head on his shoulder. "I am only nervous for the ball tomorrow." You whisper.

"The ball, or the people?" He returns, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before tilting your chin up so he can look at you. You frown slightly and he gives a comforting grin. "They will talk, you know that, but none of it will matter. It is just that, talk." He murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"But what if... you leave and then I am alone and one of them tries to-" You begin, but he cuts you off swiftly with another kiss. A longer one, but still as sweet as before. You sigh and rest your forehead against his. "You are so much more capable than you know, Y/N. You are the perfect Viscountess and the perfect Bridgerton. None of them shall ever be able to take either of those two things away from you." He whispers.

You smile as your cheeks heat up from his speech. "You are mine, mine to protect and mine to love. I take that duty very seriously." He finishes, cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch and smile. "I love you." You whisper back and he grins. "And I love you." He returns.

Tomorrow comes all too quick, and soon you are in the large closet in your master bedroom, your maids pulling on the strings of your corset to get it to your liking. Anthony, however, waits downstairs in his study already dressed up fully for the occasion.

You had promised to try and be quick, and he knows you tried to keep that promise. He also knew that you wanted to look perfect, so he did not mind being a bit late to the ball. He wished for you to be as comfortable as you could be. After about thirty minutes of waiting, he had sent his family ahead, promising to meet them there.

He would be lying if tonight was a relaxed night for him. He was a ball of nerves, but he knew how to hide them well. He was not nervous for him, no, he was nervous for you.

He knew that you were perfect, and all of the much older and married members of the ton did as well. It was the cruel debutantes he worried about. He knew that many of them would be bitter, even if they were not interested in him. It was many women's third or fourth social season, many women would take that out on any kind soul they could find, and you were the kindest.

He downs his glass of scotch and adjusts his cravat before standing up and going to the bottom of the staircase. He wanted to see you now, and he would not wait another second. Just as he is about to call out, you appear at the top of the steps, dressed in the infamous Bridgerton blues.

The gown is a gorgeous navy blue, and you have paired it with long, white, silk gloves. Your hair is pulled back in his favorite way, an elegant pin holding it up in an elaborate bun. To tie it all together, you are wearing the diamond necklace and earrings he bought you in Edinburgh. So simple, yet so incredibly beautiful. So you.

You smile at him as you walk down the stairs and he just about dies right there. "My God, you look ethereal." He whispers as he offers you his arm. You gladly take it and he grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leading you to the carriage.

The driver opens the door of the carriage once the two of you arrive at Lady Danbury's grand estate. You look out at the many other women and men filing out of their carriages and feel a familiar sense of dread, causing you to gnaw on the skin on the inside of your cheek.

"Darling?" He asks after a moment and you look up, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment once you realize he has probably been holding his hand out for you for some time. "Sorry." You mumble, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet and help you out of the carriage.

The two of you walk hand in hand into the ballroom, which is bustling with activity. However, when the Viscount and his new bride enter, all of the chattering halts. The eery silence makes you wrap your arms around one of his, the sense of dread looming over your head only getting more intense.

He notices and moves down, kissing you softly on the lips. Part of it is for show, of course, but part of it is also because he knows that it will calm your nerves down to a point where you can manage them. He just knows, always.

He pulls away. "Come on, we are going to make this boring night a good one, hm?" He murmurs. You smile gently and nod, walking deeper into the ball. You hear the whispers, the cruel words from the other women, but choose to ignore them for now.

The two of you arrive at the space on the floor where his family stands. He lets go of your arm with a kiss on your cheek and enters a conversation with Colin. You walk to Eloise, of course, and begin to speak to her about your newest literary obsession.

Anthony eventually finds himself surrounded by his friends, leaving you and Eloise to your own devices. "It is quite an interesting story, I am surprised I only found just found it." You hum as she grins. She had recommended the book Frankenstein after you had said you wished to read more of the classics. "I am surprised as well, you always struck me as a horror type of woman." She teases, bumping your shoulder. You laugh lightly as she does.

"Well, now I know that I am only to come to you for book recommendations as my husband is quite lacking in that department." You return, your eyes filled with playful affection. "Well, I could have told you that, Y/N. My brother, it seems, only likes books in the historical genre." She sighs and looks at her glass of lemonade. "I shall be right back, I am going to get more lemonade." She says and is off before you can protest.

You frown and look around for someone else to talk to, to hide behind really, as you wait. Before you can you are approached by none other than Cressida Cowper, an absolute addict to gossip. "Y/N L/N, I am surprised to see you alone. Has he grown bored of you already?" She says, tilting her head.

You wince and sigh. You knew it was coming, Cressida always had a knack for finding you when you were alone and vulnerable. Often times her insults insist on picking on your nervous demeanor, or even your kindness. The use of your maiden name, however, stung uniquely. A sign that she thought your marriage insignificant, and who knows how many others did. You can feel your breathing pick up already.

"Cressida. It is lovely to see you." You say softly, turning to face her head on. She rolls her eyes at your blatant disregard for her question. "Indeed. It is always a pleasure seeing how... dull you look. I am surprised the Viscount has not already taken a mistress, I mean, he would do well to." She sneers. "I-" You begin but she cuts you off.

"You know I am right. You are dull, Y/N. You always have been. It was a miracle you got as much attention as you did when you debuted and an even bigger miracle that you got married to Anthony. He will grow bored of you, just as everyone has." She scoffs before sauntering off to her next target.

You feel the heat of tears in your eyes and the familiar feeling of tightening in your chest. You know Cressida can be cruel, but what if she got those words from another? What if she was right? Perhaps Anthony will grow bored, perhaps he already has. The thoughts have you going into a spiral, your breathing picking up until you realize you cannot breathe anymore.

Eloise, upon noticing that Cressida had made her way over to you, rushes back. "Oh God, that woman is nothing but a jealous old spinster, Y/N." She whispers, putting her glass down and reaching out before she realizes that you are already too far gone. She takes your hand and begins to walk in search of her brother, "Hold on, Y/N. He has to be near. It will be alright." She says softly, though it does nothing to stop the state of panic you are already in.

She finds him about two minutes later, and you are already in tears. She drags you to him and spins him around. "Cressida." She whispers before leaving the two of you together. He immediately wraps his arms around you and leads you out of the ballroom to one of the balconies, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire way.

"Alright. Look at me, my love." He murmurs once you are outside, grabbing your hands in his and pressing them to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. "Ready?" He whispers when your tear-filled eyes meet his and you nod.

"Alright, in..." He breathes in and you do the same, your breathing stuttering as you try your best to follow. "And out..." He whispers, exhaling with you. The two of you have gone through this many times. He had helped you when you were courting, when you were engaged, and he will help you until the end of time.

After a few moments of him guiding you, your breathing calms and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the fabric of his cravat. "What did she say, darling?" He murmurs, rubbing your back gently.

You hesitate, and he senses your apprehension. "I will not get angry with you over words that such an insignificant woman spoke, I will not cause a scene. I promise. I only wish to know before I take you back home, hm?" He whispers, gently cupping your cheeks so he can look at you.

You wait for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. "She said that you would grow tired of me, just like everyone else. That you would take a mistress. She said I was dull." You whisper back, your grip on his shirt tightening.

His face darkens for a moment before he pulls you back into his embrace. "She knows nothing, my love. If you were dull, I would not want to spend every waking moment of my life with you. I would not have married you if you were not perfect for me in every single way." He whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"But I... I do this so often. I get so... so anxious. I am hardly a Viscounte-" You start but he cuts you off. "You are the perfect Viscountess. Y/N," He begins, pulling back a bit so he can look at you. "I do not say that lightly. I know that it has only been a short six months since we were wed, but I am more secure in my belief that you will be the perfect Viscountess. The perfect mother, the perfect head of my house. You are the perfect woman for me and for my family. Do not doubt that ever. Especially over some silly statement a foolish, sad woman made." He says, caressing your cheeks.

Your eyes burn at his speech, and your heart flutters. You lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. "I love you so very much, Anthony." You whisper.

He grins, and you swear you see the faintest of pinks spread over his cheeks. "And I love you, Viscountess Bridgerton." He whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Let us go home. Lady Danbury will not miss our company I'm sure." He hums as he parts, making you nod in response.

That is just what the two of you do. After saying goodbye to his family, and to Lady Danbury, the two of you make your way to the carriage.

The rest of the night is spent in bed, speaking of the future, whispering love confessions in each other's ears, and loads of kisses. Who knew that a man who seems so brutish could be so gentle just for you?

#bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #fluff #cutie pie anthony #bridgerton

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twilight-orchid · 3 months

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Shower Suprise

Jason Todd x gn pregnant reader

Notes: So, I’m currently fighting a war against baby fever and baby daddy jason makes me feral so I decided to write a self indulgent fic. I’m working on a couple sequel fics so let me know if you enjoyed this and I’ll post the others too. I’m not a great writer and have never written for Jason before, so sorry if it’s shit lmaooo

Part 2

Word count: 1730

Contains cursing, unplanned pregnancy, mention of abortion, talk of adoption

Jason had gotten home a little after 4 am. He’d been patrolling the cold, rainy streets since 11 and Gotham had finally grown quiet. His body ached something awful from the numerous fights he’d gotten into that night, and exhaustion had crept into his bones making him feel like he could fall asleep standing up.

He climbed into the window of the dark apartment silently to avoid waking his lover and got out of his gear in the living room. The sound of clanking metal and ripping zippers tended to get noisy. Once in his briefs alone he slipped into your bedroom, pausing for a moment to watch the rise and fall of your chest with a smile on his face. You slept soundly, your hair a nest around your face and your soft snores like a comforting lullaby to Jason.

He reluctantly made his way to your shared bathroom. He’d love nothing more than to just go to bed, but you didn’t like it when he got into the clean sheets with Gotham’s grime on him. And, to be fair, he was pretty gross some nights. He showered quickly, enjoying the steaming water on his sore muscles, then hastily moved to brush his teeth. However, something odd caught his eye as he spat.

There were balls of what looked like clean tissue wadded up atop the trash, which was strange as he’d just changed it before he left. You didn’t have a cold or anything that would constitute using that much. He furrowed his brow, a weird feeling washing over him. Something white and shiny just barely peeked out from underneath, and he moved the tissue aside to reveal not 1 but 4 pregnancy tests. His heart froze, time seeming to stop around him. Dread built in his gut as he grabbed the sticks, and terror settled in as he picked up one positive after another. Holy shit, y/n was pregnant. He’d gotten you pregnant. Fuck.

Something pleasant stirred in his gut but he squashed it down. His child would be in danger every day having him as their father. If anyone found out about his baby, child of the Red Hood and grandchild of the Batman, they’d instantly have a target on their head. Aside from that, he’d be a terrible father. He was gruff without meaning to, he had a short fuse, and he certainly didn’t have any good role models. All he could think about were the ways he could accidentally fuck them up. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you until you were in the bathroom with him.

He was no longer tired, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he dropped to the floor. Fuck fuck fuck. He couldn’t be a father, he’s Red Hood. He had huge time constraints, anger issues, and most importantly, a lot of blood on his hands. How could those hands, forever stained red, hold something like an innocent newborn in his grasp? A baby, with chunky cheeks and thighs, perhaps with his hair and your eyes.

“Jay?” You asked tentatively. He realized he was hyperventilating. He tried to respond, but he found all he could do is stare at your middle. Your eyes slipped to the floor, taking in the discovered pregnancy tests as he watched your face turn. This is clearly not the reveal you were hoping for. You crouched to his level.

“Jay, can you breathe with me?” He was still lost in his thoughts, buried in his anxiety. But he looked up and met your gaze, your features worried. For him. He closed his eyes and nodded with a shuddering breath.

“Alright babe, in through the nose…. Out through the mouth.” He followed along with you, his hand reaching out. You grabbed it firmly with both of yours without hesitation, running your thumbs along his skin. He usually didn’t like to be touched when he was having episodes, but something about your warmth grounded him. He steadily felt his heart begin to slow down.

You let go with one hand to tenderly cup his cheek, smiling sheepishly at him.

“You’re pregnant.” He said simply. You bit your lip and looked away, but nodded.

“I made an appointment in the morning to get an ultrasound and make sure, but well, 4 positives. Plus, you know how sick and nauseous I’ve been. Emotional, tired, hungry for weird shit…” He cursed under his breath and noted how your shoulders sank. Your hand just barely moved to your belly before you caught yourself, returning it to your side.

“You want the baby.” He stated, though it was more of a question. You sighed in frustration and ran your hand through your hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t feel ready, but I can’t stop picturing a little baby that looks like me and you and I just… I can’t-“ Your resolve crumbled as tears began rolling down your cheeks. He took you into his arms instantly, pulling you onto his lap and letting you bury your head into his neck as you sobbed. He drew circles into your back and whispered reassurances, but his head was spinning.

“I don't know what to do Jay!” You whimpered. He didn’t know either, but he needed to come up with a solution. For you.

A baby. A fucking baby. Bruce would absolutely lose it.

“Well,” he started, his voice calm. He was freaking out, but you didn’t need him a nervous wreck. You needed him strong and steadfast. He took a deep breath.

“There’s allot going on in our heads right now, why don't we break down our options, yeah?” You nodded, still sniffling and sat in his lap to meet his eyes.

“No matter what, I'm not putting a baby in the Gotham foster system. No way.” He started. Gotham had a lot of kids entering its foster system and almost no kids being adopted. Bruce had been trying to help solve the issue for years, but Jason knew if they gave the baby up for adoption, they’d likely have a hard time finding a home. Not to mention the issue still stood that they’d be in danger if their parentage was discovered, except in that scenario Jason wouldn’t even know where they are to help them. You nodded in agreement.

“So that leaves…” you began softly.

“Keeping it or getting rid of it.” He finished. Your lip twisted and fresh tears fell, but you wiped them away.

“I don’t… what do you want to do Jay?”

“It’s your body.”

“And it's your baby.” You responded. That was fair, and he thought about it. There’s no denying it could be dangerous, but there was also no denying that his kid would have the planets greatest protectors on its side. His family would call to arms for his baby in an instant, as would the friends Jason had made through his life. Hell, even the Justice League would defend Bruce’s grand baby. And he wouldn’t repeat his mentor’s mistakes and drag his kid on the rooftops with him. They belonged at home; safe, cared for, and loved. A feeling he reveled in when he was with you. He thought about you holding a toddler in your arms and playing with them, the sound of his child’s laughter echoing through the house. He just knew you would make an amazing parent. Feelings once again rose in his chest, but he didn’t push them down. He let them sit and, once he really thought about it, he kinda wanted to see the little guy live and grow. But ultimately it wasn’t his decision.

“I want what you want.” He finally responded. You groaned in frustration.

“I don’t want you to want what I want Jay. If I say I want it, I don’t want you to agree to make me happy and then feel trapped and then…” you trailed off, looking away from him. He furrowed his brow.

“And then what, leave you? Abandon you to raise my kid on your own? Do you really think I’d do that to you?” His tone sounded almost angry, but he didn’t mean for it to be. He wasn’t mad, he was hurt.

“No, Jay I-“ you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“I just don’t want to make you do something huge like this if it's not what you want. And I don’t want to force you to commit to me like that.” He scoffed at you.

“I think we’re well past worrying about me wanting to commit to you, doll.” You stared at him seemingly unconvinced, your fears and uncertainties visibly rattling around your skull.

He sighed. This wasn’t the circumstance he was hoping for, but his gut said it was time.

“You want to see how fucking serious I am about committing to you? Where the fuck are my jeans?” He gently pushed you off of him and told you to stay. He nearly chuckled at the cute, confused look on your face. He grabbed the pants he'd been wearing before patrol and fished his wallet out of his pocket.

“Look at this shit, I’ve been carrying this around with me for months.” You stared at him with a raised brow, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Out of the cash flap he pulled a small pouch of bubble wrap which produced a beautiful engagement ring. It was your picture-perfect ring; you couldn’t have picked a better one yourself. You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“Jason-“

“No, shut up and listen to me. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone on this god forsaken planet. You are beautiful, and kind, and funny, and so fucking smart. You’ve been there for me at my worst and my best without judgement. You’re one person that I know I can rely on, and I am so proud that you rely on me. I am a lucky fucking man to have you in my life, and if you want this baby I’m with you. And I’ll be the happiest man alive. But if you don’t want it, you don’t. And I’ll be happy with that too. But either way, I love you and I want you to be my one and only for as long as you’ll have me. So, what do you wanna do babe?”

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd x pregnant reader #jason todd x pregnant!reader #red hood x pregnant reader #batfam #batman #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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residenthughes · 2 months

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slow sundays - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x gender neutral reader

word count: 1k

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, no mention of y/n

summary: any day spent with barzal is always good, especially sundays.

notes: a little something i wrote when i should have been sleeping, oops! may write a longer version, may not but i'll definitely write up something else longer for barzy, as well as some other fics that i've started and am very excited to share, hehe! as always, hope this finds u well and that you enjoy this small ball of fluff. much love! <3

oh! forgot to mention, this post is inspired by this post by @novelbear! they spoil tumblr rotten with such adorable prompts! :)

Sundays are your favourite days of the week. The normal anxieties that creep in from a long lived weekend cease to exist in your timeline, a day defined by slow sweetness and sacred serenity. This year you’ve really lucked out with said day, most of Mat’s games scheduled another time and on the off chance he has practice, it’s before you can even pry yourself from the comfort of your cloud-like mattress. This is one of those Sundays, where you’re tucked away in citrus scented sheets, fast asleep as Mat presses a tender kiss on the bridge of your nose before he goes off to do what he does best, leaving you to emerge from your cocoon whenever you please.

You decide shortly after Mat departs to desert the covers, arranging them neatly with a sleepy pout set onto your puffy lips before starting your share of morning chores. Amidst the array of bits and bobs you cater to around your cosy home, you cook up a breakfast built for two - piping hot and ready to eat by the time Mat’s car pulls up the driveway.

You drape your arms lazily around his nape, beaming a lovesick grin as you peck your long-time lover. “Good practice?”

“Great practice,” he breathes against you, minty fresh with the faint waft of his accompanying cologne. His strong arms pull you impossibly closer, your body snug in his embrace. “But I’ve got better things waiting for me right here.”

His large hands cup a handful of your butt, giving it a cheeky squeeze that involuntarily makes you jump against him, your cheeks crimsoning. “And to think, that’s the thanks I get for making us breakfast.”

Mat releases his grip as you back away, disbelief washing all over his sculpted features as he gives you a cocked eyebrow and a petty laugh. “Says the one who-”

Your hand comes up, an index finger raised. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Wordlessly, Mat holds his hands up in surrender, brazen-faced as you send him an eye-roll with crossed arms. Despite the circumstances, your hands find the top of his zipper, opening up his coat before you hang it up near the door in perfect routine. The selfless action still warrants one of your favourite kisses from your boyfriend, kisses from side-to-side - a kiss on the cheek, nose and cheek again. A simple action but one that robs you of all oxygen, a lightness in your limbs and a tingle down your spine. You soon turn around with Mat trailing not far behind as you venture back to your spacious kitchen, settling at the quaint table for two - a single vase rose separating your plates packed with all your breakfast favourites.

Before you have the chance to take your seat at your baby blue painted table, Mat comes up from behind you, cradling you in his sugary embrace as he plants a delicate kiss against your temple, your heart overflowing with the magic of your slow Sundays together. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You hum blissfully, a hand delicate against his stubble-ridden cheek as you simply exist together, limbs tangled as you savour the moment like sand slipping through your fingertips. A quick kiss against Mat’s prickly cheek puts a pause on the moment, your grin giddy as your hand takes Mat’s as you direct him to sit, which he does - no questions asked, fuschia dusted upon the apples of his cheeks.

You fall into perfect routine, your brunch a show that consists of all your favourites: Mat’s cutlery glimmering in the soft rays pouring into the windowed kitchen as he cuts his food, ceremoniously offering you the first bite of his food with the same smitten closed mouth smile that he had the first day he met you. Happily, you accept his generous offer and take a bite, beaming with full rosy cheeks as he swipes the crumbs with such an earnest shimmer in his eyes that it makes your heart squeeze with joy.

Your brunch continues in similar fashion, two enamoured partners basking in the company of another as you bond over a hearty plate of food, time lost in endless dialogues and timeless ‘I love you’s. When there’s nothing but crumbs speckled across your ceramic plates, Mat shoos you away before you can get a protest in, you resorting to sulking on the edge of couch as the sounds of plates clinking together competes with the noise coming from the TV.

When everything’s said and done, the washing up dried and packed away, Mat shuffles into the lounge, falling into the couch with a grunt as he positions himself as close to you as possible. You can never bring yourself to mind, head falling to his broad shoulder once he’s propped his feet against the hickory coffee table with his arm circling your shoulders. Another kiss atop your head tells you he’s settled and you melt into his side, no objections sounding from your long-time boyfriend as reruns of 'The Bachelor' blare from the TV. If anything, Mat immerses just as much as you. Well, as much as the slightly fatigue man can as his fingers absently fiddle with locks of your hair, the gesture a lullaby that aids your sudden drowsiness that links hands with the warmth emitting from Mat’s body that always fits against yours like a puzzle piece.

Before you’re able to drift away into a shallow slumber, a slumber you both shall share prior to your simple plans for the day, Mat’s sleep-laced voice calls out to you.

“Waking up next to you is the best part of my day.”

And you chuckle softly because of the simple fact you know this to be true - evidenced in the way affirmations of love fall so easily from his lips, in the way he never allows you to walk near any busy roads and buys you flowers just because. And, best of all, when your precious Sunday comes and goes, your Monday view consists of your beautiful boyfriend as you reverse out of your driveway, a sleepy smile mellowed into his features as he sees you off, hollering one and the same line wishing you a great day at work, which is nothing but granted if you’ve got him by your side.

#mb13 #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x you #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new york islanders #ny isles #ny islanders #residenthughes

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

Text

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part two)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) here

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || these video calls have become the new normal for the two of you, but it might be time to take the next step.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.2k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; video call sex, dirty talk, use of sex toys, and a touch of breeding kink), sex work (again, kind of inherent to the whole thing), basically porn without plot but with feeeeelinggsssss 💕

(this week's challenge for @the-slumberparty was to write a follow up to something I wrote previously, figured there was an obvious solution to that prompt!)

“Did you get what I asked you to?” you asked with a coy smile.

“Yeah, it’s right here…”

He held up the fleshlight in front of the camera's view, strategically angled down to his chest and lap so he could keep his face hidden, and couldn't help but notice that mischievous sparkle in your eye. “Have you tried it yet?”

“No, I figured I’d wait to see what you wanted me to do with it,” he replied, and you laughed.

“Well, there’s really only one thing you can do with it, sweetie,” you purred— why did that little pet name turn him on so much? “I want you to fuck it. I wanna watch you fuck it.”

"Okay," he breathed, "sounds… interesting."

"I'd like to see your face— you know, see you really react to how it feels— but I know you said you don't want to yet…"

It already gave him a little anxiety that you were seeing his body, if covered up by the t-shirt and boxers, but you at least acted like you were enjoying what you saw so far. "Will you settle for seeing how hard I am instead?" he asked, and you licked your lips.

"Seems like a fair trade," you giggled.

He reached into his boxers, but saw that the view of the webcam cut him off— so he slowly tilted his laptop down, letting the camera pan to his hand around his leaking cock.

“Oh— fuck, that’s really you?” you choked.

“Yeah,” he answered, not sure if that was the right or wrong answer but knowing it was at least the true one.

“Hold up… three fingers, right now,” you ordered suddenly, “with your other hand.”

Confused but not willing to question it, he put his free hand in frame and did as you’d asked.

“Just— you know, just checking,” you explained, “people can, like, hack Zoom and put up a video or something, wanted to make sure it’s really you…”

“Is it that hard to believe?” he wondered.

“It’s just that, you know… you’re big,” you mumbled. “I mean, no offense to my viewers or anything, but—definitely the biggest I’ve seen in a video call, I’ll say that.”

That made his cock flex in his hand. “So, you like it then?”

“Like it? Wish you could’ve seen how wet I got when that popped up,” you laughed. “God, I would suck you—I mean I would really suck your cock, lick it all over, taste those balls—”

He squeezed his cock in his hand, snarling a little. “That’s so hot,” he groaned.

“And I can just tell you’d go so deep inside me,” you added, making his chest tighten up. “Do you know how many inches it is? I wanna try to find the closest toy I have to your size, then I can really imagine how you’d feel in my pussy.”

He was almost high just on the knowledge that you wanted to imagine that. “Uh—eight, maybe eight and a half…”

"Fuck," you breathed. "Yeah, I— I think I have a vibrator that size, but I'm not sure it'll be… thick enough…"

"Well, mine doesn't vibrate," he warned you with a laugh.

"Yeah, and mine isn't dishwasher safe," you returned.

"Oh god— people clean these in the dishwasher?" Dieter realized with a shudder.

"Yeah— I'm guessing you've never used one before?" you pressed, and he shook his head— before he remembered you couldn't see it.

"No," he answered aloud. "I, uh, usually just prefer the real thing."

"Right— me too, but you know, we make do," you laughed. "So? Wanna give it a spin?"

"I, uh, I guess so…"

Grabbing the toy from the little bedside table, he looked at it for a moment— it was shaped like a vulva around the opening, but it wasn't that realistic. First of all, it was only one color; second of all, the design was so simplified that it was missing the things he loved most about a pussy in terms of looks. Not the Dieter had ever thought the visual element was its strongest…

But yours was gorgeous— beyond perfect. Looked edible, delicious even, with a clit he wanted to suck on for hours and a cute little hole he couldn't imagine being lucky enough to fill with his cock. And this toy was just that— a toy, a piece of silicone, and he really only had any interest in it because this whole thing was your idea.

Sighing, he slipped the toy down on himself; he wasn't sure what he was expecting, really, but it was a unique feeling. Not as hot or wet as a real body, of course, but there was a nice pressure to it.

“How’s it feel?” you asked warmly.

“Good,” he breathed— not a very creative answer, but the best one he could come up with now. “Way better than my hand, but nothing like, you know—”

“Nothing like me?" you assumed.

He sighed as he started to stroke himself with the toy— long, slow movements to get used to it. "Yeah," he agreed, "nothing like— fuck— like you…"

"Are you imagining it's me instead?" you pressed, leaning in closer and watching intently. "Imagining me riding you nice and slow like that? Letting you hold my hips and move me just how you like?"

"I'm certainly trying to," he mumbled.

"Look how wet I am," you encouraged, and he leaned his head to the side a bit so he could see the screen better: you had your legs spread wide for him, and your fingers were rubbing your glistening cunt. "I'd drench your cock, baby, probably make a fucking mess on you—"

"Fuck," he moaned, "use the toy on yourself. Fuck yourself with it while I'm doing this."

You spread your legs and pushed the vibe inside— but you didn't turn it on— with a sigh; you were already finding a place you liked by pushing it in and out with your hand, but he stopped you before you got too into it.

"No," he corrected, "ride it."

You smirked. "Maybe my legs are sore."

"Maybe I don't give a fuck."

You bit your lip and sat up, holding the toy between your legs and rocking your hips as you started to ride.

He whimpered when he saw the way you were enjoying the toy— you picked it because it was close to his size, so it was impossible not to picture being under you and watching you sink yourself down on him just like that.

"Feels so good," you panted, "been wet all day waiting for our call… and I can't stop staring at your cock…"

"You really like our calls that much?" he wondered, knowing your answer couldn't be totally honest but not really caring anymore— he craved the fantasy, that was why he couldn't stop booking these.

"Yeah," you hummed. "Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite."

"Don't… don't flatter me," he pleaded, trying to remind himself that you were just saying nice things because you were paid to.

"It's true," you assured. "Your voice turns me on like crazy— not to mention the shit you actually say with it…"

Figuring he should treat you to a little bit of that dirty talk you apparently enjoyed, he swallowed and conjured some courage to boss you around a bit. "Turn around— wanna see your ass," he demanded, moaning louder when you did as you were told. "Look so fuckin' good riding that…"

You arched your back further just to give him a better view; he hissed, pumping the toy faster.

"God, you drive me crazy showing off your ass like that," he admitted with a groan. "Needs a good spank but I'm afraid to crack my computer screen."

You laughed a little, but reached back and pulled your ass apart so he could get a better view of that pink hole swallowing up the toy.

"Jeeeeeesus fucking Christ," he grunted, moving his own toy faster. "You've got the most beautiful cunt, baby, I swear…"

"And you've got such a nice cock," you replied with a groan. "Can't stop thinking about it— I just know you'd stretch me out, baby, the way I like—"

"Fuck, I would," he promised. "I know how you need it, I just know— I swear I wouldn't stop until you came all over me, until you fucking soaked me—*

"Baby," you panted.

"And then I still wouldn't stop until you did it again—"

"Fuck!" you whined, and he saw your pussy tighten on the vibrator. "That sounds so fucking good— sounds like exactly what I need. Just to be fucked until I can't think anymore…"

"God— you don't need to think," he promised. "Just need to keep your legs open, I'll do the rest."

You moaned louder, and bounced faster on the fake cock. "Yeah, I will— I'll just let you do all the work, okay? Lay back and let you do what you want?"

*Fuck, yeah," he mumbled. "Let me give that pussy what if needs… I know what you need, I can tell. You need it deep, right?"

"Yeah…"

"And hard? Fast?"

"Yes—"

"Shit, baby— turn around again, miss that pretty face— and I know you wanna look at it more, don't you? You really like looking at my cock?"

You laughed slightly as you quickly turned back to face the camera. "I mean— I wanna do a lot more than look at it, but this is all I can do right now."

"What else do you wanna do with it, then?"

"Choke on it," you answered instantly. "Beg for it."

"Fuck," he whispered.

"Rub my pussy on it, show you how bad I need you…"

"Mm," he moaned in agreement.

"Then I could just… slide it inside, try to fit you in my little hole, feel you going so deep…"

A little whimper slipped from his lips accidentally, and his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to picture it— you in his lap right now, looking back over your shoulder as you guided his cock into you. It was a great image, but the toy wasn't enough— it wasn't warm enough to be you.

It was much better when he opened his eyes and saw how desperately you looked; you were literally dripping on the toy and he thought he might lose his mind.

"You like watching me use this that much?" he noticed. "You're so dirty, baby— so turned on watching my dick fill this fake pussy. I know you wish you were here instead— we both do."

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “I want you to fuck the toy just like you’d fuck me, please…”

He started to buck his hips up into it; he loved seeing the way your face changed when you watched him using the fleshlight more… aggressively. "How's that look?" he prompted you with a smirk. "You wanna be fucked like this?"

"God yes— I wanna be your toy, Hector," you informed him with a purr. "I'm jealous of it, actually— I'm watching you fuck that fake pussy and I'm jealous…"

"I always get jealous," he replied. "All those toys that get to feel you every night in your streams? I'm always thinking that should be me— I wanna make you come even harder than they do."

“I know you’d feel so much better,” you whimpered, “I know you’d fuck me better—you know how fucking tired I am of riding these toys? How badly I just want you to hold me down and fuck me as hard and deep as you want?”

“Fuck, I want that too,” he groaned.

“Yeah? Wanna use me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

"Wanna make me your toy?" you prompted.

Wanna make you my girl, he barely stopped himself from blurting out. "Y-yeah," he choked out instead.

Stroking himself faster with the toy, he grunted softly and adjusted his hips on the bed. "When you come, take the toy off," you instructed, "so I can see it. Pretty please?"

"Of course," he agreed. "It'll be hard to stop, but— I can do it, for you."

"How romantic," you cooed, and it wasn't totally clear how much you were joking. "I wanna see you coming so I can imagine how it would all feel inside me…"

"That's what I'm gonna imagine, too," he promised with a sigh, "all that come going deep inside you… and keeping you full all night so none of it goes to waste…"

"Fuck," you groaned, "are you that possessive, need to stay inside me all night? Won't let any of your come leak out?"

"Yeah— I'm… very possessive."

"Well, I like… being possessed…"

"Do you like being bred?"

You grinned, and he felt almost guilty for saying it— but the feeling was oddly erotic somehow. "Yeah," you breathed. "I like that… I like getting filled with come, hearing you promise that you're— fuck— gonna knock me up…"

He groaned as he tightened his gut to try to stave off the inevitable orgasm approaching. "I wasn't even into that until I started watching you," he admitted with a sigh, "used to be my worst fear, honestly… but now it's all I can think about… fucking you raw, knowing you're not on anything, knowing you could get—"

"Just— just pretend," you interrupted suddenly. "It's okay if it's just pretend, right?"

He was pleasantly surprised by the vulnerability of that. You could've just played into it, since it was all over video call anyways and didn't make much difference. It's not like he was going to get you pregnant from another continent. But he appreciated that you spoke up for yourself, even if he wasn't totally sure why. "Yeah, of course," he promised, voice a little softer. "That's the thing— even just pretending drives me crazy, turns me on like nothing else. You made me like this— don't even know how, but you made me want that."

"Fuck, that's— I'm close," you admitted, "really fucking close to coming for you… what else do I make you want?"

"You make me wanna buy you stuff," he added, laughing breathlessly. "Spoil you, you know. So much more than flowers."

"God, you know just what to say, don't you?" you sighed. "What else— just tell me what you want, tell me everything."

“I want you to be mine,” he answered, too lost in pleasure to be self-conscious about the honesty. “I want you to be only mine—want you here with me, want you in my bed all the fucking time, wanna make you come and make you say that you fucking belong to me.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, “that’s— fuck, I— I’m yours. I belong to you.”

“God,” he gasped, nearly a sob it was so intense— he never thought you’d really say that. “Don’t want you to let anybody else fuck you, or touch you. Just mine, baby, you need to just be mine—”

“I am, I am,” you promised. “I swear I’m fucking yours. Don’t want anybody else—just want you, it’s all yours, whatever you want—m’gonna be your girl. Your whore.”

“Fuck!” he moaned loudly, moving the toy so fast it was just a greyish blur over his cock. “When you come, you tell me whose you are— I’m gonna fucking come, just say it.”

“Yours, yours,” you promised, over and over, “you’re making me come, it’s you— yours, m'yours—”

He groaned loudly as he pulled the toy off of himself just in time for come to paint his stomach and thighs. He rode out his high untouched as he listened to your own cries, and kept his eyes trained on your face as you sobbed through the pleasure. “Fuck,” he sighed, “don’t stop, just keeping riding it—good girl.”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, shaking as you kept going, nodding and biting your lip. “Yeah, whatever you want…”

“Don’t stop until I tell you,” he ordered. “You keep riding that fucking dick, I don’t care if you can’t come anymore, keep fucking going—”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m still going… I won’t stop, not until you say.”

Catching his own breath, he waited until your legs looked ready to give out before telling you that you could stop. The toy was drenched, your body was glistening with sweat—and he was panting so hard he felt dizzy.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “I mean—fuck.”

“So you liked that, too?” he noticed, and you smiled hazily.

“Yeah—that was… damn. You wear me out, man.”

He laughed, though he barely had the air for it. “I wear you out? You see the contents of my balls all over the fucking place here?”

You laughed, then, and he still thought it was the best sound in the world, even better than hearing you come. “Yeah, fair,” you relented. “It was really hot, though—watching you come. Is it bad if I wanna make you do it again?”

“Shit, tonight? I don’t think I can—”

“No, no, not tonight, that might kill both of us,” you laughed. “I meant next time…”

That made him deflate a bit. Maybe this was all an upsell—it was just about getting him to pay for the next session, keeping him hooked so you could get the money and gifts.

“I was thinking, uh… maybe next time—oh god, this is a bad idea, but—maybe next time could be in person?"

And then his heart jumped. “We could, uh… that’s an option? We could meet up?” he rushed out, hoping not to sound too eager but failing completely.

“Yeah,” you decided, looking more self-conscious than he’d ever seen you. “I don’t know, I just— it feels different with you. That might be stupid but, it’s true. And the truth is, I know everybody probably assumes a lot because of the camming and stuff, but I haven’t had sex in… years. Just the toys. And I fucking miss it.”

“Yeah, me too,” he breathed. “I mean, uh, it hasn’t been that long for me… but I miss it— and I… I think I need you. Like, really need you.”

You smiled, and it was different than any of the ways he'd seen you smile before. "Yeah, I— I feel that, too. But, if we're gonna meet in person… I need to see your face."

Sighing shakily, he thought about it clearly for the first time. He was scared of meeting you in person, as badly as he wanted it. He was scared whatever magic you felt over video call wouldn't translate to real life; he was scared to disappoint you.

But he was more scared of losing you because he never had the guts to try. So, with a deep breath, he tilted the laptop back, and let the camera show his face.

His hair was even messier than he expected, so he tossed it with his fingers a bit, but otherwise just let you get a good look at him.

He'd spent most of his life being looked at— he'd spent most of his life trying to be looked at, fighting to be the center of attention. He wore shades and ball caps to avoid the paps like anyone else— because he thought he was supposed to— but deep down, he was addicted to being seen, in spite of his introversion.

He'd never felt as seen as he did when you were looking at him through that stupid webcam. He almost blushed, though he wasn't sure why.

"Hi," you greeted softly, sounding almost completely different than before.

"Hi," he said back.

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo x y/n #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #navy and roo's sleepover

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

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hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do a könig x reader where the reader is giving birth to their baby but it’s a hard birth and könig pushes his anxiety away to help coach her through it?❤️

So This Is Love | König x Wife!AFAB!Reader

a/n: you know me. i was literally thinking about writing something about könig and a baby. nonnie i’ll love you forever. i’ll write a family fic for könig too if people want it 😭 i love him so much. (thank you @as-is-above-so-below for the baby name, you are amazing)

warnings: Childbirth, pregnancy, a lot of anxiety.

summary: It’s time for you and your husband, König, to meet your new baby. It’s just that you are panicking, and König needs to keep you calm.

König stirred awake to a dark bedroom, eyes blinking to adjust to the darkness. He turned to look at the digital clock on his nightstand, its red numbers blinking 01:56 AM. He rolled back over, hand reaching for you on the right side of the bed, but found only warm sheets. His eyes really opened then, he sat up quickly and reached backwards for the lamp. It clicked on, illuminating the bedroom and your empty side of the bed. He saw a large wet spot just a few inches from his hand, he moved quickly off the bed as he called your name. It couldn’t be time, you weren’t due for another couple of weeks - his heart began to race even as he heard your voice from the bathroom.

He made it in four strides, almost slamming his head on the door frame when he darted into the bathroom. The panic in chest only increased as he found you sitting on the floor, back against the tub with a towel underneath you. He was instantly beside you, kneeling and placing one of his hands on your swollen belly. “What happened?”

The tears that ran down your face only made his entire body grow dizzy, your hand rested on his as you whispered, “My water broke.”

König felt his resolve crumble under his skin, panic bells ringing in his ear as he spoke, “You’re not-“

“Due for a couple of weeks, I know,” You winced, eyes fluttered shut as you let out a breathy groan. “Tell your baby to stop hitting my ribs.”

His blue eyes flickered down to your belly, only taking just a moment to collect himself before he leaned closer, saying, “Du tust deiner Mutter weh, du wirst uns bald treffen, mein Baby.” He pressed a kiss to your belly, eyes looking back up to you. He flexed his other hand into a fist, trying to get his focus off of his racing heartbeat. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head, letting out a loud groan and taking his hand into your own. “F-Fuck-“ You panted out, your other hand instinctively reached for his other as well. He immediately gave it to you. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

—

König’s entire body was on emergency mode, he could barely even breathe the whole time you had been in labor. Catering to your every need no matter how small helped a little, but the intense pain you were in because of his child made him almost vomit.

36 hours of labor have come and gone, spent sitting on a exercise ball and watching TV, or eating crisps on your hospital bed while he massaged your feet. The baby in your belly seemed content in causing you pain, kicking your kidneys whenever you had a contraction. The sweetheart you were, you never told him that it was his fault that you were this way - but boy was he thinking it. Every tiny discomfort almost had him crying out of anxiety; he had spent countless years in battle and has seen people in pain, but he never wanted to hear moans of agony come from your lips.

He hadn’t even settled on a name yet. You were so patient, you didn’t want to name this baby a name that he didn’t like. He begged for your suggestions, but you refused - saying, “Any name I say you’ll just agree with. Find your own.”

He sat with you now, he felt it was getting closer to meeting his first child. The nurse was fluttering about, a sweet young woman who didn’t ease his nerves at all. It may have been the thousandth baby she’s delivered, but this is his first child and the first she would be delivering with you. He had already chewed down his nails, he had to force himself to stop before he made himself bleed.

“Baby,” You murmured your warm bed, he was sat right behind you, his head right next to your arm as your hand reached for his head. “Baby.”

“Yes?” He whispered, moving his hand to intercept yours, holding it before you squeezed his hand.

“I need you.”

He’s spent months and months thinking of all the terrible things that could go wrong with you and the baby, he was still uncharacteristically calm. He wanted to be at the hospital with you, but you were against it - he did as you said. So here you were in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and monitors. He was quick to stand, help you move forwards so he could sit behind you. The mattress was almost soft, he noted, and he felt upset that he even suggested coming to the hospital. He wasn’t used to any of this, the clench of his lungs in his chest made him nauseous. Your back curled into his chest, his hands immediately settled on your pregnant belly. He could immediately feel his baby respond to his touch, kicking and making you grunt in pain. Your hands then moved to on top of his, squeezing them.

“It hurts, König,” Your words stung him like a wasp, infecting his skin and blood with red hot venom. He pressed kisses to your hair that was thrown up messily before leaning forwards, moving his hands so your palms met.

“It’s okay, my love,” He murmured, squeezing your hands as you squeezed back, letting out a loud whine of pain. “Breathe for me, Schatzi. Come on.”

“I can’t.” You groaned out, head thrown back into his shoulder as you squeezed his hands so hard. The nurse moved towards the bed, one hand on one of your knees.

“I’m gonna see if I can feel the head, okay?” She spoke calmly, all you could do was nod and the soldier stared at the woman as she reached down between your legs. Your hands moved to bring his arms around your chest, eyes also glancing down at the woman before she moved back, a smile on her face. “You’re going to need to start pushing soon. Not right now, so prepare yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Your small voice broke König’s heart. He tightened his arms around your chest, your hands gripped his forearms.

He swallowed, fending off his anxiety from swelling his throat as he spoke, “You can, Liebling. And I’ll be right here, I won’t let you go. Squeeze me as hard as you need.”

There was a knock on the door and it opened, revealing your short doctor with a mask on her face and hair pulled into a fabric surgical cap. Behind her were two more nurses, both in pink scrubs and wheeling in a bassinet. He felt like everything in his body was going to explode.

This was really happening. Soon, he was going to be a father to a little girl or a little boy - and he hadn’t even told you the names he liked.

“Let’s have a baby! How are you doing?” Your doctor was as happy as ever, something König wasn’t always fond of.

Your hands squeezed his forearms, a grunt escaped from between your gritted teeth.“Like I’m pushing a baby out of my vagina.”

“Always the chipper one, then?” The doctor smirked, commenting, “I’m gonna check and see where the little one is, okay?” She lifted the paper blanket and then looked back to her nurses, then to König. She nodded curtly before looking to you, saying, “It’s go time. I can see the baby’s head.”

König physically felt you freeze for a moment, he was stunned himself and he felt his diaphragm squeeze. This was the last time König would ever be just someone - soon, he would be someone’s father. And he would do better than his own, better than the man who abandoned his family and ruined his only son.

You let out a yelp, hands still holding onto his forearms as the doctor spoke, “Alright, let’s push.”

“No, no no! I’m not- Ready-“ Your chest curled forwards, a loud whine of pain as you dragged your husband forward by his arms secured around you. “I want-“

“It’s too late for any pain meds, I’m sorry.” Your doctor gave you a sympathetic gaze before looking back between your legs. Another jolt of pain had you screaming out, the doctor telling you to push but all you did was let out a cry of pain. “C’mon, sweetheart. Your baby’s almost here, you can do it.”

“I can’t!” You shouted back, voice laced with agony as you collapsed backwards into your husband, sobs racking your entire chest as you squeezed his arms. “Fuck, König, please- Please make it stop.”

You were always the strong one in the relationship, level headed and wise; something König admired and those traits helped keep him grounded when he was getting into one of his attacks. But now, it was like the roles reversed - you were panicking, in pain, wanting to stop but he knew you couldn’t. He pressed his forehead to the crown of your head, speaking over your loud moans and the doctor’s commands. “You’re going to give us the best thing we’ve ever been given, our child. I’m going to hold them and think about how strong you were for creating a little life with me. You’re going to be in so much pain for me, I’m sorry, my Schatzi. But you have always been strong, always held your head in the face of danger. Just a little longer.”

“Ah-fuck! Fuck, fuck- No, no, no I can’t- I can’t-“ Your nails dug into his skin, your torso shot forwards as you let out a loud cry of pain. He followed suit, letting your nails draw blood from his arm.

He pressed a kiss to your messy hair, it was almost matted. “You can, Schatzi. Und das wirst du.” He made a note to help you brush your hair when you were resting, but now all he could do was watch the doctor and nurses await the arrival of his child.

“One more push, Y/N.” Your doctor’s voice was calm, the nurses waiting beside her with supplies that König didn’t care to look at. He kept his hold, letting you squeeze his arms around you as you cried.

“I can’t- I can’t anymore.”

“Yes, you can.” He spoke, his voice echoed over your grunts, the loud pants from your mouth almost drowned out him saying, “You’re strong, Schatzi. Stark. We’re doing this together, always.”

It was only a moment longer, a last scream of pain and nails digging into skin, crescent moons tattooed his arms. There was a moment, just a moment where your open backed hospital gown hit his grey undershirt, your nails no longer going for blood. In that moment, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear with a bated breath, arms looser around you while your arms went slack and your head rolled back into König’s shoulder.

A shrill sound. Sighs of relief from everyone in the room as the recognizable sound of a baby crying filled the silence, the doctor happily chirping as the nurses began to help your baby. Your eyes felt so heavy, it was hard to keep them somewhat open but you still did it, the sheer adrenaline of wanting to see the baby you’ve been humming to for nine months. You wanted to see the creature who liked to kick you in your sleep at the exact same time of night, the baby who liked to move whenever your husband placed his hand upon the swell of your stomach.

The nurses moved away as your doctor held up the little baby with both hands, “It’s a girl!”

“Do you want to cut the cord, Dad?” One of the nurses asked, König pressed the side of his head to your head. He could feel just how tired you were, he wouldn’t leave you now.

He met the gaze of the nurse, saying, “No. My wife still needs me here.” You let out a noise of gratitude, heavy pants still escaping your lips. The parents watched the cord be snipped, the little girl be wiped down a little before wrapped in a soft pink blanket - the nurse who had been with you almost the whole time had come forward with the little creature, helping you move down your hospital gown so your baby could rest on your skin and help bonding.

The little girl let out tiny shrieks with all of her breath, face becoming shades darker as your weak hands came to cradle your daughter. She had your beautiful skin tone, a small little thing that would’ve fit in the palms of König’s hands. You tried to hush the baby, calm her, but she kept crying. It wasn’t until he spoke only a few words, “Hello, my little bird.”

She squealed out another cry, her eyes blinking open to display eyes that looked exactly like his. Beautiful gray eyes that would follow him for years, little hands that he would hold for years to come. The baby began to calm down as soon as her eyes opened, blinking slowly up to look at König before her gaze landed on you.

Her little hand moved towards your head, but it didn’t raise from your sweaty skin. Her eyes watched you as a small yet exhausted smile appeared on your lips, one that König wouldn’t see until later when one of the nurses shows him the picture. All he would know of was the little coo his daughter made as you whispered, “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Sie ist schön, just like her mama.” He murmured, keeping his hands on your sides. He felt that he was almost too big to touch the baby on his wife’s chest - she was a normal sized baby, but he was still so overly conscious of his size. He didn’t ever want to hurt the little creature he met only moments ago.

“What did you name her, my love?” He was brought out of his head by the sound of your voice, the little girl’s eyes never moved from your face.

He pressed his lips to your hair. “Avis.”

“And her middle name will be Amelia.”

“Meine Omas Namen?” He chuckled, his hands gently rubbing your sides. “Oh, how no one would ever love me like you.”

Little Avis agreed by letting out a little yawn, eyes fluttered closed. Your head moved to the side, he could clearly see the tears that had fallen since your child had been placed in your grasp. His hand came to your cheeks, a kiss from his lips was planted on your nose.

“We did it.” The breath you were holding escaped your lungs, crystal tears filled your eyes. “Avis Amelia.”

“Look at our daughter. Unsere Tochter.” You gazed back at your beautiful daughter, sniffling before König’s familiar fingers brought your face to look back at his. “You did so well, do not cry these tears, your beautiful face doesn’t need to be tearful.” His thumb traced a tear away from your cheek, gray eyes flickering to meet yours before closing. He leaned forwards to meet his forehead with yours, still brushing away tears. “I will cry them for you.”

-----

#könig fanfiction #könig #könig cod #konig cod #cod könig #könig x reader #könig x wife!reader #könig call of duty #könig x afab!reader #könig x fem!reader #könig x f!reader #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium

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darkdemeter · 4 months

Text

HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE’S WILL

The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN #1 —

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

A/N — Finished it nice and quickly, I was a bit unsure about this piece and was probably gonna scrap it before I posted the teaser. I was surprised to see how many people liked the teaser alone, and the taglist life chose me! Didn’t think that would happen so soon sooo that’s pretty cool, so if you wanna join that then let me know! I’m looking at potentially doing some more werewolf reader soon, with a piece (or multiple pieces, idk yet) called ‘The Convict Wolf’. Again I’m not the best at fluff so there is quite a bit of angst in there too as well as some humour. I think this turned more into a slight! Wanda x reader than an actual Wanda x reader. So… sorry bout that. Usage of Y/N as well.

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

— NEXT COLUMN

READER DISCRETION — angst (reader has insecurities/self esteem issues) — Tony being a bit of a dick — some minor language — some weird fluffy humour? — mentions of a “passed relative” in said humour — minor name calling and usage (“mutt and stray/pup”) — and I think that’s it?

Mother Nature decrees that her law is absolute. Her will is to be respected, and all are intended to follow in her great design.

You do not change it. You embrace it.

And this applies to you as well, thanks to your common ancestor, that you shared the habit that left you tracking the red ball Tony kept bouncing against the polished floors like it’s the only thing in existence that mattered to you. And maybe because it did.

How could this happen? No high risk missions or deadly villains to stop from achieving world domination. No, today was one of those special days where you and your fellow Avengers could relax. And with the full moon so close, what better combination?

What you wouldn’t give to suddenly be on a quinjet flying into enemy territory. Nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping.

For everyone’s sake, you tried to keep to yourself for the past week but you’d exhausted your options. Walks in the park weren’t cutting it - not to mention the other dogs started it first - and you’d already destroyed five punching bags in the gym just prior. The treadmill be damned, you weren’t burning any energy on that.

Your last resort was to sit in the common area with your favoured beverage, a cool rag and some TV to calm the intense wave of anxiety. However, by her divine intervention, your beloved crew had come to flock in.

Mother Nature knew you were a pack animal at heart, as both human and wolf. It was how she made you.

The ensuing anxiety of being in a crowded space enough to put you near over the edge. It’s not like your heart rate only picked up a few hundred beats more when Wanda walked in.

When a few of the new arrivals waved and greeted you, you shared a hesitant yet trying smile and equally reluctant nod in return.

The battlefield was the only place you felt comfortable around your new comrades. But without missions or villains you were still getting accustomed to life at the compound; adjusting to life around people.

You were still considered fresh. A new recruit to the team. As Tony liked to call you… a pup.

Fuck, how you’d bite back your snarls from that term.

Fury assigned you to the Avengers some months ago. And though you had no intention of staying long, the missions kept coming in and a lot more required your specific skill set.

You remember as though it was yesterday that Tony said, “Alright Fury, we’ll adopt the stray pup. Just don’t go ripping up the furniture now.”

Suffice to say, you broke your own record at doing just that in under 3 hours.

“I think they’ll settle in just fine,” Fury had chuckled with a clap to the billionaire’s shoulder.

You shake your head at the memory. Still, if felt wrong to feel certain things for one of your teammates already. It wasn’t like you felt you really had a chance with her anyway.

The thought made your eyes falter from the now still ball for a moment, clutched in Tony’s hand as if it were your heart.

‘Who am I kidding?’ You chuffed silently to yourself, ‘She wouldn’t take a chance on me, I’m a damn mutt!’

Your self esteem issues had to wait though.

Thump.

‘Ball.’

Your entire head at this point tracked the ball’s movement, but your mind was still distracted by Wanda. The idea of her wanting to play ball with you, to spend those moments of intimacy with you. Tony’s words zeroed in from a muffled backdrop to the forefront of your mind.

“And that is why red indeed travels at a superior speed to any other. Ergo, why my suit is red, brilliant, eye catching and can beat anyone.”

You could hear the collective groans and disguised snarks beneath coughs without the noise being present. It was in everyone’s eyes and their scents.

Your eyes froze on Wanda, her striking eyes bore into yours with no hesitation. No fear.

‘How long has she been doing that?’

She offered one of her smiles that made your heart swell and stop at the same time, that made your searing skin cool and rise with goosebumps.

‘She’s so beautiful when she smiles like that.’

If she had one of those smiles then… you knew that grin that spread across her lips and showed a thin line of her teeth.

Your eyes gave away the betraying thought that you knew. Her smile turned grin riddled with mischief spoke volumes.

‘She read my damn mind!’

“I don’t think that is actually possible, Tony,” Sharon said with a click of her tongue and a disbelieving squint to her eyes.

“Oh no, it is,” Tony replied with a nod, “I’ll show you how the colour of this ball determines the speed in which it returns to my hand.”

He held up the ball in his hand, a proud display of its immaculate accomplishment, just a throw away.

Shit.

You bite down on your lip hard to suppress the whine coiled deep in your throat. A deep heat settled all along your neck and your ears.

Wanda still stared at you even in your peripheral.

Tony flicked his hand forward and the ball flew forward, bouncing once against the floor and bound into the wall with a determined thump before Tony caught it again, mouth agape to huff in his triumphant display in tandem with a curt yelp.

A good throw. Bad timing.

Everyone’s eyes had diverted to you. Their attention captured by the sound you made. Even Bucky, the stoic and reserved man who hardly acknowledged anyone with anything other than a grunt, appeared surprised if not the slightest bit intrigued by this new discovery.

You didn’t dare risk a second glimpse at Wanda, the flush in your neck seeped higher up into your face. Not that the shock and interest on everyone else’s faces were easier to process.

But you couldn’t face Wanda’s eyes now.

She had read the racing thoughts you couldn’t keep in line. Who knows how much she read about how alluring you think her scent is, how you whine and whimper whenever you hear her softly cry when in the privacy of her room because you wish to be there with her, her hand running through your fur to comfort herself; to let her know you’re there for her. How much it hurts you that she would never see you as nothing more than the mutt of the team. A beast that maims and runs rampart whenever you lose yourself to anger.

A lovesick pup.

You feared that the hot sting of tears was sure to follow any moment now.

Your fingers tightened against your legs, nails not longer the tamed length you maintained them as. In their stead were claws.

“Something wrong, pup?” Tony teased and you didn’t refrain from the rasped snarl that rose in your chest. Your teeth - and fangs - bared.

Fuck. Why did Mother Nature have to make you the way you are?

“Tony,” Sam warned, eyes cast between the two of you.

“What?” Tony only shrugged as if he wasn’t intentionally pissing you off and embarrassing you at the same time. “I just wanna make sure our new recruit here is alright, I mean, they have been temperamental over the past week. Chewing on expensive furniture and specially crafted improvements to my suit—“

The ball flew from Tony’s hand just as he was about to make a show of the ball again, the unmistakable red, misty tendrils swiftly brought it to Wanda’s hand.

Everyone was silent as they glanced between the red ball in Wanda’s hand and you. Their combining scents overwhelmed you to a new height. The fear that pinned you in place made the skin along your arms radiate with heat, either from the desire to run with your tail between your legs or to get defensive; to ‘wolf out’ as the others had called it. It didn’t help when Thor made an attempt to say something but otherwise thought better not to say what was on his mind.

Wanda eyed the object that held your attention. And you in turn couldn’t help but study her. Something in the way her eyes twinkled with curiosity, her lips pulled to one side as if to contemplate heavily on the fact that this ball held you in a vice grip.

Your short temper as of late, how you’d skulk around, much to the dismay of everyone fearing you had turned into another Bucky. The guy wasn’t that bad, you’d give him credit for that, the guy had a lot on his plate.

But what Wanda was perhaps most interested by that whenever she was present in the same room as you, all that would vanish. At least for the most part.

But to her, you would ask her how she was doing or even compliment her. Little did she possibly know that it was because you had felt a little courageous to take that small leap of faith to tell her she looked good.

But she might as well have that knowledge now.

You weren’t sure if it bothered you or not that she read your mind. Invaded your thoughts. In some weird way, you wanted her to. But you also feared her rejection.

But in the end, it all made sense. No one else pieced it together but her. And this time, she didn’t have to read your mind to do it.

She could read you. She knew you.

“It’s the full moon tomorrow night. They’re anxious.”

You were often lucky to avoid this topic with the others. They’d just chalked it up to catching you at the wrong time, that the mission was a hard one that day and you had some pent up anger to burn. The other half, you’d be out of the compound. Taking a much needed break at your apartment, visiting your sick grandma who they suspiciously noted you saying had passed away years ago three times now. But who was counting.

Never did they realise it all happened around the same time every month.

But Wanda did. She noticed it.

You brave to stare into those eyes you were content to drown in but find something else. It’s mysterious. Not what you’d expect to see in her eyes when she looked at you of all people.

“Y/N, Fetch!” Wanda cooed as she tossed the ball away from her. It’s a primal instinct that ignited within you at that very moment. A natural, engrained sense and desire.

How Mother Nature intended for you to react to survive or to have fun, your skin tingled with the sensation all too familiar.

The shift is over within the blink of an eye, seamless as you launch yourself over Wanda’s sitting body after the ball, large paw-like hands scrapped across the floors as you skid to a halt and the ball captured within the grasp of your maw.

Your tail wags involuntarily and your ears pinned against your head as you bashfully ducked your head at the sound of the others who chuckled and praised your reflexes.

It felt nice. Wanda turned in her spot on the couch to peer over at where you’d jumped over her, chin tucked into her folded arms.

“Nice catch,” she giggled and you swore she could see your blush in this form, “bring it here.”

Hesitant, you take a step forward and then another, your eyes cautious as they wandered over the others in case they deemed your advancements were dangerous to be left unchecked.

Rarely did you allow this form to take around them without the proper surveillance equipment and safety precautions. They already had Bruce to worry about losing control as the Hulk. They couldn’t risk you as well.

But no. They marvelled in their stares, smiles of contentment encouraged you to approach Wanda. You let the ball fall into her grasp with a small whine, ears still pressed back.

“Don’t be shy, Wolfie,” she whispered, the sound soft for only your ears to hear. You liked that nickname. You could only hope she would continue to use it.

Wanda raised the ball again only for Tony to interject. “No! No, you are not playing fetch in this compound, Miss Maximoff.”

Wanda smirked at the look in your eyes. The same one you had right before you tore up all the good, expensive furniture within that 3 hour window.

A few more throws turned into furniture shoved aside to make room. Tony remained in the kitchen, arms folded and a scowl etched hard into his face, it would take a miracle for Pepper to wipe it from his face.

Everyone else was too engrossed in the game of indoor fetch, all having had a couple of turns by now with throwing the ball. Bucky humoured you once and threw it, an approving nod when you caught it. Clint, Thor, Peter and Scott fought hard to get the ball numerous times, Natasha and Wanda were promoted to ‘ball-directors’ so everyone had a fair go.

But Wanda maybe got an extra throw in once or twice - by order of Natasha.

Steve now held the eye catching sphere in his hand, high above his head. Though with your stature in this form, it was rather tricky to keep it away from your snapping jaws.

You yipped and howled in anticipation before Steve tossed the ball and you leapt after it. You caught it before it could bounce off the wall. An eruption of claps and cheers followed immediately, your ears flopped back as you whine softly with that feeling that buzzed in your ribcage.

“Bring it here, Wolfie.” Your ears perked up high and alert at the soft tune of Wanda’s accented voice. A few of the others couldn’t refrain from laughing a little at the sight.

Whenever they had permitted you to shift on mission skirmishes, it was all done through protocol and extensive preparation to ensure you were stable.

And they only saw one emotion when you changed. Aggression.

To finally get the chance to play and be comfortable in your own fur felt good. Shit, well beyond good.

“I was promised the next throw! Come on, give the ball here, Y/N,” Sam called with an outstretched hand.

Even if Sam had a point, you couldn’t stop yourself in your approach towards Wanda, who now was crouched down with her hand out to receive the ball.

Her eyes were soft in their gaze as they pierced through the veil of your own. It was like she could see the humanity deep within you.

Her magic touched you differently, prickled against the shell of your mind, you welcomed her in.

‘I see you as more than you realise.’

A whimper crept up your throat in response, ears tucked back and eyes often shrouded with the thirst for carnage grew to relax. Become tender in the embrace of her eyes - her soul - touching yours.

Your fur bristled suddenly and you shook your head with a huff. You dropped the ball into her hand and she threw it down the long hallway.

You bound after it, your claws clinked against the tile floor, your breath hot in ragged pants as you gave chase. Each bounce of the ball echoed faintly in the back of your mind, too occupied by the words Wanda spoke through your mind.

It was the first time you’d heard her voice in your head. And you enjoyed it. It settled you into a sense of calm.

You didn’t register the elevator doors open ahead of you, Nick Fury stood with files tucked under his arm.

Your eyes shot open and you swore you saw his unpatched eye mimic yours. Your weight was too much to control with the momentum you had backed up behind your pursuit in a cramped hallway. You skid to a halt but slipped forward, the force of your body knocked Fury and yourself back into the elevator.

A series of cringed groans and gasps reminded you of your teammates as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You’d knocked Fury into the buttons and now, your destination was another floor.

Sheepishly, he could tell, you whine a pathetic sound in your apologies. You shuffle in the elevator that was almost too tight for the two of you to fit with you like this.

“So,” Fury said after a few moments of silence, eye intently watchful of the floors you both now visited. Some had agents give pause and a receptionist even dropped her cup of steaming coffee at the sight of you.

“What brought the wolf out?”

He turned his head slightly when you grunted, ball held up in your mouth to show him what had ensued before his arrival.

It felt like hours that the rest of the team stood in their places, eyes stuck on the elevator door you and Fury both disappeared into.

“Do you think he’ll be mad?” Wanda asked, voice coated in a toxic amount of unease.

She was scared what would happen to you. As a matter of fact; everyone was scared.

The government knew just enough and that was a hard - yet private - case that was not disclosed with the public.

Your existence and your species as a whole had to remain top secret. One slip up that was determined out of hand would grant you a one way ticket to who knows what for punishment.

“It’s okay, Wanda,” Clint assured, “I doubt Fury would do anything like that. I mean, he brought them to us.”

“He’s right. No way would Fury do something like that,” Steve added, firm in his judgement or perhaps what he hoped for.

“We will… figure it out if it comes to that,” Tony sighed from his place. Not often did Tony jump to your defence in cases such as this.

But in the end, you’d proven yourself mostly to be trustworthy.

He had some inkling of reason to believe you wouldn’t cause intentional harm to the team.

The elevator pinged and everyone held their breath as the doors slid open.

Fury and you stood side by side, gazes directed down the hallway towards your team. Your eyes immediately sought out Wanda who gave you a smile but her brows were furrowed.

Fury held up the ball as he strutted forward, like an obedient pup, you followed close to his heel.

“Next time, take the game of fetch outside,” he advised and threw the ball forward and Tony caught it swiftly.

Another good throw. Really bad timing.

You were still hyped up and because of that, you charged forward and closed the distance within a matter of milliseconds.

“Wait no—!” Tony grunted as he was pinned to the floor beneath your weight. “Get. Off!” He growled and you slinked away from him with your tail tucked.

The others did little to hide their laughs at Tony’s unfortunate expense.

“Good job,” you caught Bucky mutter to you as you joined Wanda’s side. You chuffed rather proudly and your head held high.

Steve aided Tony from the floor. “Alright, Fury. We’ll note that down.” Steve flashed a toothy smile and wink your way.

“I have a mission briefing. Ya’ll better buckle up and dress for the cold. You’re going on an undercover operation located in Alaska.”

“Alaska?” Wanda asked in sync with your curious head tilt, ears flopped to the side.

“Alaska. And you also have a guide present right now who is familiar with the territory.”

It didn’t take a second long for your team and yourself to gather what Fury meant, his single eye on you knowingly.

Fury left some time later after he handed the files over that provided more information on your new task in Alaska.

Wanda turned and knelt down in front of you, a hand ran through the thicket of your fur. The act itself made your eyes droop and your chest rumble. Wanda couldn’t keep the full, toothy smile to spread on her lips.

“I think this gives us all the perfect opportunity to play more fetch with our beloved wolf.” Wanda’s words didn’t go unnoticed by the numerous hums of agreement. Truly you felt seen by them all. For the first time perhaps ever, you felt accepted.

You even looked to Tony who shrugged with an eye roll. “I suppose I could indulge in a couple throws myself. So long as I can test my new theory of what travels faster: the wolf or the red ball?”

“Wolfie,” your team chimed in claim of their theory right there.

Your pack that Mother Nature intended for you.

Thank you for Reading!

(◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

#dark demeter writing catalogue column #treehouse taglist #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #wanda x werewolf! reader #wanda x y/n #werewolf reader #gn reader #female reader #male reader #y/n #marvel #mcu #platonic avengers x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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fullmoonandstar · 3 months

Text

Common Interests

Gale x gn Tav / Reader

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Rating: T

Word count: 1.3 k

CW: Dyslexia, vague mentions of past trauma

Summary: Your crush is well-read and you want to be close to him by picking up a book. It would be a good strategy if reading wasn't so hard.

Dyslexic gn Tav/Reader wants to impress Gale

A/N: inspired by this post

You were so concentrated on the task at hand that you didn’t notice the footsteps behind. You had found a nice secluded spot a bit away from the camp and settled on a fallen tree to continue your reading as you had done for the past few days.

“What are you doing?”

The question carried a smile, but you jerked, and the book slipped out of your hands. Gale snatched it out of the air, and you grasped at nothing.

“Hmm … an interesting read you have here. I would recommend following up with Sara Ibb’s take on the topic. They give a more balanced view.”

You felt your face burn and prayed to the gods that Gale was too distracted by your choice of book (you had found it in the cellar of an abandoned house) to notice.

He rattled on about the nuances of using weave grass in potions, and you could not help but let the corners of your mouth creep upwards. Gale’s enthusiasm made your insides feel all warm and soft.

“Oh, I totally lost you in the barrage of words. I …” Gale laughed nervously. “How did you like the book?”

“It was good.” you said a bit too quickly.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked at you suddenly intrigued, as if you were a puzzle to be solved.

“Come, my friend, what did you really think?”

You panicked. What would be an acceptable thing to say? Your heart beat faster, and you were stuck between wanting to flee and not being able to so without making a bad impression.

The seconds dragged on, but no words left your mouth. Gale watched your silent struggle for another heartbeat before sitting down next to you and waited.

"It’s hard to read." you said finally. Gale’s brows furrowed and you stammered an explanation. "I can understand it, I can read, but it’s so difficult to read.

"Why?" Gale asked softly. The ball of anxiety and embarrassment was melted away by his warm presence. You had been so caught up in your own head that you had forgotten how save Gale made you feel, like you could tell him everything.

"I’m not sure how to explain it." you paused to think. "It’s like the letters come in and out of focus, like they move around on the page if I don’t give it all my attention."

Gale nodded slowly in the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t look at him. You had never told anyone about this and if you were honest, your school days and the embarrassment that was your inadequate reading skills were still hanging in the back of your mind.

"I hope you don’t think me rude, but why are you reading that if it’s hard for you? I remember you saying you are not big on books."

Now he had hit the target, the big question.

"Which is understandable for someone with your condition."

"My condition?"

"Dyslexia, from the sound of it."

"Is it fatal?"

Gale laughed, and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"No, and it’s not contagious either." He smiled at you, the sweetest thing you had seen in a while.

"As far as we know, it stems from individual difference in how the brain works and has nothing to do with intelligence or lack thereof. People with it have problems reading or writing, in various degrees of severely. It’s pretty common, but before when reading was a skill not many were allowed to learn, we didn’t notice that about 1 in 10 people has problems with it. You should have seen Val, their writing was atrocious but a very fine wizard indeed." He smiled wistfully. "You have nothing to worry about."

You looked at the book in your hands in a new light. Since your school days, you had struggled, but now at least you had a name for the trouble you had.

"Thank you, Gale."

Your eyes met, and your heart skipped a beat. He looked stunning just sitting next to you, and a warm wave of affection rolled over you. You opened your mouth to say something when Gale leaned over. For a moment, you thought he would kiss you, but he reached out and took the book.

"Do you want me to read it to you? Or maybe something else? I have a collection at my tent." He gave you a bright smile while you still recovered.

Snap out of it, you told yourself, you’re acting like a love sick puppy.

"Choose whatever sounds interesting."

"You want to read to me?" you said when your brain had caught up.

"Yes, I do enjoy the sound of my own voice, and you seek knowledge."

Gale was someone who talked a lot, but you would be lying if you said you did not like that about him. It was his openness that drew you in, in the first place.

He studied your face and added: "That’s very attractive."

A twig snapped behind you and both, you and Gale jumped.

"There you are!" Karlach appeared with a leaf in her hair that was sizzling.

"Food is almost ready, let’s get back before we eat everything without you."

Shadowheart was not a chef cook by any means, but she and Wyll had a good tag team on the hearth. You ate with gusto, and forgot all about your conversation with Gale.

After dinner, he came over and said:

"My offer still stands. If you'd like, you can come over at any time."

"Now?"

"Sure, come." He held out his hand to help you stand up from the log you were sitting on, and you took it.

Gale had not been lying about the collection he had.

"You carry all this in your bag?!"

"Not technically, I have this pocket dimension…"

"Wizard stuff."

He laughed.

"Yes, Wizard stuff."

You found a book that sounded interesting and handed it to him.

"Ah, yes, I could have known this one would pique your interest."

Gale sat down on his bedroll, and you sat next to him.

"Strap in, you will love this. Such a good read."

————————-

When you opened your eyes, you panicked, not knowing where you were and why you felt so warm. This was not your tent, and you lay under a blanked with a warm body pressed to you, an arm holding you in place. The memory of last night came back to you. Gale reading to you, and you were slowly shifting from a sitting position to lying down on his bedroll. At some point, you must have drifted off to a dreamless sleep, the first one since your infection.

Gale stirred, nuzzling your neck sleepily before freezing.

"Oh, I’m sorry." he said and began to pull back, but you caught his hand as it retreated.

"Don’t." You pull his hand back into the position it was, you tight in his arm and his body pressed against your back. "It’s nice. Let’s stay a bit longer."

He said your name, and you looked over your shoulder. His hair was in disarray, but it made him even more endearing, not less.

"Why did you start reading books?"

He had asked the question that you had not answered the day before, and it seemed he already knew the answer.

"There is this person I like, they are really smart, and I wanted to be closer to them. To him."

Gale shifted until you were on your back, facing him. You noticed the little wrinkles the pillow had made on his face but also the fullness of his lips. His eyes studied your face and got caught by your lips.

You reached out and ran your fingers from his temple down the side of his face through his soft beard. Your hand on his chin, you nudged him to lean in, and he followed your request.

Check my Masterlist for more

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction

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suzukiblu · 1 month

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Slimmed-down post/rules, but originally taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday! This week's theme is "incredibly intentional and deliberate baby acquisition" (aka, "gIVE ME BABY"). With perhaps a slightly loose definition of "baby", hahaha.

( I had so, so many options that fit this theme to pick between, lol. )

Here’s how it works:

I will post the filenames of five WIPs, and will also post a snippet of new content from one of them to get the ball rolling.

Send me an ask with the name of one of the listed WIPs and I will write you a minimum of three sentences in that WIP in response!

Multiple requests are fine, but I’d prefer if you sent them in separate asks. Just a little easier for me to fill them that way.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

WIP names:

Clark wakes up alive

congratulations, it's a metaweapon!

the Last Son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon

YJ accidental baby acquisition

Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones

snippet from “Clark wakes up alive”:

The pod is empty, Clark can already see through the walls. But he can hear a familiar heartbeat, though it sounds a little . . . different, now.

It’s been so, so long since he’s heard it, but even if he didn’t have the eidetic memory, he never could’ve forgotten it. That's Conner's heartbeat.

His brother's heartbeat.

But it's different, too.

And the empty pod isn't the only thing he can see through the walls.

“What’s the damn alarm about?” Desmond says irritably, not looking up from his work. Dubbilex doesn’t respond; Guardian shakes his head.

“Security systems are reporting a breach, sir,” he says. “Multiple doors are broken, but no one’s been spotted on the cameras. And the readings say they all broke within . . . point five seconds of each other?”

Conner doesn’t say anything either. He just sits very, very still between them, his heartbeat thrumming with a quiet, restless anxiety.

“Then lock the place down already!” Desmond snaps as he picks up a thin metal instrument with a sharp tip. Conner's heartbeat picks up.

“That will not be necessary,” Dubbilex informs them both, bland and neutral. “Superman has already let himself in.”

“What?” Guardian says, sounding startled.

“What?!” Desmond demands.

Conner’s heartbeat stutters, and Clark can’t be anywhere but in that room.

So he is, before Conner’s stuttered heartbeat has even settled, and then he’s looking at Desmond and far too many needles and medical instruments and Guardian who’s half-turning and Dubbilex who’s already facing his way and a few scattered G-nomes and G-trolls in assorted places here and there around the room and . . . Conner.

But not Conner as Clark’s used to seeing him.

Was used to seeing him, anyway.

Desmond curses, and Guardian jerks in shock. Dubbilex looks unaffected.

And the child sitting on the exam table in the center of the room stares up at Clark the exact same way a teenager once did: like he’s seeing the moon and sun and everything he thinks he’s supposed to be for the first time. Like he’s seeing something he’s waited and wanted to be.

Hoped to be, maybe.

And Clark . . .

Clark handles it differently this time, just like he’s always wished he could've.

“Hello,” he says kindly as he steps forward and ignores everyone else in the room to drop down into a crouch in front of the exam table and smile at Conner, who keeps staring at him mutely. “It’s nice to meet you."

#wip wednesday #meme #wip: clark wakes up alive #long post

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sorrowfulrosebud · 3 months

Note

Not too sure if you're bored of these yet but have another ask.

Reader's work. Do they work at home or not? If they don't, what's the day like for hybrid Bakugou who's stuck home alone? If they do, how do they keep Baku busy every now and then while they work? Cause we all know sometimes we have to sadly get rid of distractions to get some work done, even if it's one ya want~

Finally in a writing mood!!!! Sorry for the wait my angel, thank you for your patience!!

For reader’s work, I imagine you to have a job in law (bc I do) since reader is so passionate about equality for hybrids. You spend a fair bit of time in the office, but you’re allowed to go home frequently enough to make sure Katsuki is okay.

It’s horrible leaving him by himself for long hours of the day. Your mornings usually consist of you hunting down your shoes since Katsuki hides them from you, and they often have bite marks from his mauling. You then have to encourage him to eat something before you go, because you know he’d probably nap too much or forget to eat out of anxiety rebelliousness.

Soooooo, what do you do with a pouty pup who gets anxious when you work? You give him as many toys as possible! Since living with you, you have given him so many toys that he is often spoiled for choice. Squeaky chickens, rope toys, balls, the whole works. He could spend many an hour chewing on them and gnawing holes in them.

Then of course, you have the TV. Katsuki didn’t understand it at first, barking and snarling viciously at the screen when he first settled in. But now he races to grab the remote before you can, chuffing victoriously when he clicks to a nature documentary. You can only roll your eyes playfully as he settles on the couch whilst you make his favourite breakfast of sausage and bacon butties.

He sits for hours watching the soothing waves of the ocean and its inhabitants, of lush rainforests and harsh deserts. You often hear him growl at the TV when smaller prey animals are on the screen, and you can practically feel his drool drip onto the couch. You serve him his breakfast with a gentle rub between the ears, then get ready and fight him for your shoes.

With a final goodbye kiss, your hybrid is left to his own devices. You taught him your phone number in case he needed it, but he much preferred when you called him. So he sits and waits for you to come back. He watches TV for a while, potters around the house and naps. For lunch he waits for your phone call, sitting in almost silence bar a few grunts or growls when you ask him questions. He’ll then potter to the fridge and heat up the food you left him.

You had been teaching him to cook. He was quite the natural, but he was still learning and you didn’t quite trust him to cook by himself just yet. He eats lunch, naps more and plays with his squeaky toy. If he’s lucky, FatGum video calls him with his best friend Kirishima. The two puppy-boys stare at each other as they communicate.

It was abysmal, the guilt that rotted in your tummy after leaving him alone for so long. That’s when you had the most amazing idea ever. So, you changed up your routine. Along your journey to work, you passed by FatGum’s farm.

Katsuki waited for you on the couch as you finished getting ready for work. You wandered into the living room, yet again tutting at the state of your backup shoes that Katsuki had mauled. He smirked indignantly. You shook your head.

“Kats, go get your shoes. You’re coming with me today, I have a surprise!” You told him, grabbing your jacket. Katsuki stared at you.

He would never admit the thump in his heart. Was he bad? Were you sick of him?? Were you getting rid of him?!

“Well, go on. I have to be at work soon, so hurry,” you ushered him gently. Katsuki swallowed as he stared at you. You caught on almost immediately as your gaze softened.

“I promise you Kats, it’s a really nice surprise. I’ve not lied to you before, have I? Go on, I’ll wait for you,” you promised him softly, rubbing his sandy ears.

Katsuki stood up shakily, walking to his room. He was sure you’re going to get rid of him. He prays that you would do good on your promise to love him forever. He slowly makes his way downstairs, you smiling at him gently as you held out his jacket. You fixed his collar for him, the silver tag with his name and address soothing his nerves.

You’d never get rid of him if you’re making him wear his collar.

Katsuki followed you to the car, sitting in front as he puts on his seatbelt. After doing the same, you pet his ears proudly.

“My good boy, such a good boy,” you coo. Katsuki’s tail swayed against his will, causing him to pout as you giggled. You drove the familiar way to work, but caused him to blink at the destination you stopped at.

FatGum’s farm.

You get out the car, opening his door and walked to the door. An excited series of barks akin to gunshots sounded off as a happy redhead bounced in the window. FatGum opened the door with a laugh as a streak of red bashed into Katsuki, sniffing and chuffing his best friend.

Katsuki couldn’t help his wagging tail as he sniffed his friend back, growling a little when he was caught smiling.

“I feel so bad leaving you alone during the day. So, whilst I’m at work, FatGum said you’re more than welcome to spend the day here! You’ll be helping him of course, with some work here and there but it won’t be difficult,” you explain happily.

Katsuki stared at you with wide eyes, Kiri clinging to him happily. He walked to you slowly, before resting his forehead against yours with a gentle bump. His carmine eyes were soft as they looked at you through blonde eyelashes. You felt his gratitude as you gave him a hug and bid him farewell, leaving him to play with his best friend.

#🥀 rambles #WAAAA THIS IS SO CUTW #I probably wrote this really shittily so I might rewrite #but my creative mind is coming back!!#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #hybrid bnha #hybrid bnha x reader #hybrid bakugou x reader #puppy hybrid bakugou #puppyboy bakugou #hybrid bakugou #hybrid bakugou x reader fluff #hybrid bnha fluff #hybrid bakugou fluff

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rubysunnday · 2 years

Text

just keep breathing, darling

requested by anon: Hi bestie! I’m obsessed with your work. I was wondering if you could do a bridgerton sister!reader where it’s the readers debut and she’s at her first ball. Maybe the reader becomes overwhelmed with everything and begins to panic but her brothers are there to help her through and protect her. (I’m wary of saying she has a panic attack just in case you aren’t comfortable writing that which is totally fine!) Thank you for your amazing work! Xx

requested by @freyathehuntress: Heyyy so I just read your newest story about Colin and I loveeeee. The part about the queen being concern really caught my attention though I'm not sure why. Can you write a story maybe like similar to Edwina and the queen's relationship. Like I want to see a nice Queen Charlotte bonding scene.

requested by anon: can you please do another bridgerton sister with her brothers being protective because she feels ill at a ball or someone is making her uncomfortable at a ball?

summary: panic attacks are a bitch but are ever so slightly easier with two older brothers around

Y/N was terrified.

Ok, that might have been a slight exaggeration, but there was a knot of anxiety in her stomach and she felt as if she desperately needed to pee - despite having gone before she left her room.

Having her first ball be at Aubery Hall was perhaps the only thing keeping her anxiety from boiling over. She knew where she was and she knew where to go if she needed to run away.

A first ball is usually an exciting time for a young lady. But Y/N had seen how the men of the ton were eyeing her and she knew, that the moment she was left unchaperoned, she would become overwhelmed by them.

Even the candles were overwhelming her - their heat and the constant flickering irritating her beyond belief.

"Just breathe, dearest," Violet said, squeezing her daughter's hand reassuringly. "It will all be fine."

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath in. "I'm fine - a little nervous."

"Which is understandable, Y/N," Violet told her. "This is your first time at a ball - it would be overwhelming for anyone. All you need to do is remember what we practised and keep calm."

Y/N bit her lip and looked up at the ballroom, taking in the sights. Of course, she was excited - how could she not be? But this first ball would dictate how the rest of her season went - how the rest of her life went.

"Mr Clarke, it is a pleasure to see you," Violet said, nudging Y/N gently.

Y/N snapped to attention and curtsied to Mr Clarke, remembering what Daphne had told her. "Mr Clarke."

"Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton," Mr Clarke bowed to them both , "it is a delight to see you again."

"How is your mother?" Violet asked.

"She is doing better - wishes she could be here tonight, of course." Mr Clarke chuckled.

Violet smiled, nodding. "Of course. My daughter, Y/N, here would love a dance, Mr Clarke, if you are available, that is?"

Y/N's head turned sharply to face her mother, trying to disguise the horror on her face.

"I would be honoured," Mr Clarke said, nodding. He looked at Y/N. "Miss Bridgerton."

Y/N held out her dance card and let Mr Clarke scribble his name down next to the first dance. He then held out his hand to her and she gingerly took it, holding his fingers.

Mr Clarke guided her onto the dance floor, settling them in the middle of the room, amongst the rest of the dancers.

"Just relax, Miss Bridgerton," Mr Clarke said, chuckling. "It is one step back, two steps forward."

"I apologise if I step on your toes," Y/N muttered, placing her hands on his arms.

"Believe me, I am more than used to it, do not worry."

Mr Clarke was the perfect first dance partner. He didn't flinch whenever Y/N missed a step, stepped on his toes, or got tangled in her dress. He simply smiled and helped her adjust herself.

The first dance ended and Y/N curtsied to Mr Clarke, thanking him for being such a lovely partner. Y/N turned around, bidding him farewell, and took a surprised step back at the sight of a large group of men standing in her way, waiting for her.

Y/N swallowed, feeling her throat tightening as her anxiety returned. She looked around for her mother - for any sign of a friendly face - but saw none. The gentlemen began to approach her, all calling out her name, gathering around her in an unorganised - yet, strangely organised - way.

"Miss Bridgerton, may I have a dance?"

"Miss Bridgerton, would you like a drink?"

Miss Bridgerton -"

She could barely keep track of who was calling her name. Y/N turned her head frantically left to right, trying to work out how to deal with the mass of eager gentlemen in front of her.

"I apologise, gentlemen, please excuse me," Y/N said quickly, curtseying to them and then dashing away.

She practically ran out into the corridor, walking until she was far away from the ballroom. It wasn't until she was in the foyer did she feel safe. Y/N leant back against the wall, breathing hard. She put a hand on her chest, feeling her heart racing. Everything overwhelmed her, even the distant sound of the music from the ballroom.

Y/N took a gasping breath in through her mouth, trying to calm her heart and brain down. She felt as if she had run a mile and she could not catch her breath. Y/N closed her eyes, tilting her head back until it hit the wall.

"Sister?"

Her eyes flew open and she lifted her head up, looking down the corridor. Anthony and Benedict stood near the entrance to the ballroom, both looking at her with matched expressions of concern.

Y/N almost sobbed at the familiar sight of her brothers. Her shoulders began to shake as the tears took over and she slowly slid down the wall, falling to the floor, her knees bent against her chest.

Footsteps rushed towards her and Y/N could feel her brothers surround her, their trouser legs and suit jackets brushing against her. She blindly reached out, gripping onto someone's arm as her chest tightened. She bounced her leg up and down, trying to stop this awful feeling.

"Sister, I need you to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, ok?" Anthony said gently, putting a hand on her knee. "I know it feels impossible, but just try."

Y/N nodded. She took a deep breath in through her nose and then let it out in a gust through her mouth, unable to hold it in. Benedict squeezed her hand and Y/N realised it had been him she'd blindly reached out for.

"That's it, in and out," Anthony repeated, his tone calming.

It wasn't the first time Y/N had had a panic attack. It was something she had seemingly inherited from her eldest brother and it was often Anthony who would talk her down and sit with her until it passed.

The first time she remembered having one, she'd been sixteen and at the queen's garden party. Nothing, in particular, set her off - she had been absent-mindedly watching the fountain - when she found that everything was becoming too much and that her heart was racing.

Anthony, bless him, had turned around at a tap on his shoulder and come face to face with his sixteen-year-old sister who looked as if she was going to pass out. He'd guided her away from the crowds and caught her as her knees gave way and the panic truly began to set in.

He'd sat beside her until she'd calmed down and had explained to her how he too often experienced panic attacks and how he coped with them.

"That's it," Anthony said gently, reaching up and brushing the strands of hair back. "Come on, lie down for a moment."

He gently pushed Y/N down onto Benedict's lap, carefully tucking her legs together and untangling her dress. Anthony was used to this - he had found himself in this position many times too, listening to Benedict and Colin ramble on about something as he waited for his heart to calm down.

Benedict began threading this fingers through Y/N's hair, careful to not upset the pinned up pieces. Y/N snuggled into him, tucking one hand under her cheek.

"I'm sorry," Y/N mumbled, "this is ridiculous."

"It isn't," Anthony reassured, rubbing his thumb along her arm. "These things happen. Lady Danbury has calmed me down more times than I can remember. It's a natural reaction - it isn't a nice one - but it is normal."

"There were just so many people, all calling my name -"

"And there always will be, at least for the first few years," Anthony sat down next to her, straightening his legs out. "It's like putting a diamond in a room and setting a bunch of magpies on it - they all want the diamond."

"I am hardly a diamond," Y/N scoffed.

Benedict snorted. "More of an emerald, I dare say."

Anthony smiled. "But you can always say no, Y/N. If everything becomes too much, apologise and say no and walk away. Give yourself five minutes and then return - no one will know anything happened."

"Daphne never had to excuse herself."

"Oh, she did - many times. She just never let anyone see," Anthony said. "You have to be a bit like a swan if you want an analogy. Calm on the surface but frantic and chaotic underneath."

"That is just any water bird, Anthony," Y/N replied.

"My point still stands."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head slightly at her elder brother. She'd always been grateful for her siblings, especially growing up. But it was now, as they all grew older and moved apart, that she realised how grateful she truly was.

"I heard my emerald has made a great escape!"

The three Bridgerton's turned sharply to look down the corridor at whoever had stumbled upon them. The queen walked towards them, alone, smiling. Y/N almost rolled off Benedict's lap as she struggled to stand up.

"No, please, do not worry," the queen said, coming to a stop in front of them. "I merely wanted to make sure my emerald was alright. I too have experience panic attacks - the horrible things."

Y/N sat up, leaning back against the wall. "I do hate them."

"I am not surprised. They catch you by surprise at the most inconvenient times," the queen replied, smiling down at her. "I had one in the middle of my coronation, you know. But, alas, we must carry on. The world will not stop turning, unfortunately."

"No, unfortunately, it does not," Y/N repeated, nodding.

The Queen clasped her hands together. "Now, do you feel up to returning? I have someone I would like you to meet."

Y/N nodded eagerly. "Of course, your majesty."

Anthony and Benedict both helped her up. Benedict silently fixed her hair, straightening her tiara for her.

"Come along, my dear." The queen held out her gloved hand to Y/N who, after a moment's hesitation, took it. "He is a truly lovely person. His name is Henry and he is a duke from somewhere in Norfolk - I forget where."

Anthony chuckled to himself as he watched the queen walk Y/N back to the ballroom, holding her hand the entire time. The two had formed a weird bond ever since her debut a few days ago - much to their mother's delight.

But, if it meant one more person looking out for his sister, then he wasn't going to complain. Well, not too much, anyway.

#anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #anthony x reader #benedict x reader #bridgerton sister #bridgerton!sis #bridgerton!sister #platonic imagine #platonic #bridgerton platonic

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omgjumin · 9 months

Note

if you're taking requests — how about nanami comforting reader while they have panic attack? (pretty please!) headcanon form or in drabble, i don't mind.

no pressure either way!!

comforting you - nanami kento!

note: of course i can! this is literally right up my alley bc lately that's just how i've been feeling so this would be so comforting to write so! i hope you like this <3

tags: panic/anxiety attack mention and symptoms, overthinking, crying/sobbing, mentions of blood/cuts (only once, not graphic), pet names (my love), nanami just being a sweetheart

- honestly i think it depends on what was the cause of the panic attack

- nanami has different ways of comforting you depending on the situation

it's often nanami comes home late, yet ever since nanami switched careers, going back to being a sorcerer, he would always let you know if he would be home late or be back in the morning. and just that by itself would be anxiety-reducing. however, tonight especially you felt as if something was off. even if nothing was. you paced around the kitchen, not looking for anything to eat, you weren't hungry anyway but you were looking for something to occupy your mind as you waited for nanami's text. your hands grabbed your phone before unlocking it and shutting it off once again.

you felt your chest become heavier and tighter as if bricks were placed on it. your screen lit up once more notifying you that another minute has passed. it read 10:17pm and nanami sent you a text message at 5:02pm that he would be home soon yet he's still not here. he wasn't safe in your arms. he wasn't safe inside your house, eating the dinner you prepared, taking a warm shower, he wasn't here. you started to get more upset and worried by the second, there was a ticking sound in your ears as you felt time go by so slowly. your feet came to a halt as you fell to the floor.

you felt dizzy, your head was spinning round and round yet no matter what you did, it wouldn't stop. your hands wouldn't stop trembling as you tried to reach for your phone that was on the counter. "kento please.." you choked out in an almost sob, tears falling down for face as you tried to muster up the strength to get up. you didn't notice how much time had passed since you got on the floor, but when you felt two arms developing you in a tight hug, your body felt grounded in the moment. "kento?" you blurted out, not really sure if it was truly him.

"im here now, its okay." nanami said, his voice sounded exhausted and there would be darkening eye bags beneath his eyes to prove such a statement but he didn't care. your body curled up into a ball as nanami tightened his arms around you. he settled you onto his lap, hands landing on your waist, temporarily leaving only to wipe the tears off your face. there were multiple blood stains on his clothes and if you looked closely, you could be able to see small cuts along his face as well. nanami was fairly wounded but that was none of his worries now. you were his main priority and he wanted to let you know that he's here and alive. he's here in your arms.

"my love, please look at me." he raised his hands slowly before placing them on each side of your face. he tilted your head up softly, his eyes immediately turning soft the moment he caught your gaze. "you're safe and i'm safe, okay? i'm at home with you." he repeats affirmations to help ease your mind, he keeps his movements slow and soft, not wanting to overwhelm you more. "let's go wash up, okay?" he says after a while, moments of silence pasts with you in his lap on the floor before shaking your head. nanami smiles softly before taking your hand in his and leading you into the bathroom. he still needs to take care of his wounds before they get infected but his eyes were on you, not himself. and it would stay that way until the night ended. nanami ended up calling off of work the next day to be able to stay in with you. you were his world and he was yours, nanami isn't going to let either of you fall.

#this became longer than i was planning but #i hope it isnt terrible #the way i would fold for this man #im in love with him :((#nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami angst #nanami kento angst #jjk angst #jjk fluff #omgjumin

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lydiimae · 17 days

Text

Adoration

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Part 1 <3

MDI!! 18+

Warnings: Mentions of sex work, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions (very light and brief) of physical abuse to readers mother, oral (m receiving, vaginal sex, masturbation, dirty talk, talk of public sex

Word Count: 4.1k

A.N: ITS HERE. Part two of infatuation \^-^/! I had so much trouble trying to figure out how to extend this story, but as soon as I wrote this I was overwhelmed with ideas on how to continue it. I am so sorry I have been so very inconsistent with writing, I am nearing finals so I have been so low energy and motivation. (College is awful). For those who have sent me requests- they are coming I promise! Anyways my loves, here is Benedict Bridgerton and you being Benedict Bridgerton and you <3 I hope you enjoy it, and as always, thank you for your overwhelming support and love >_<

It has been two weeks since that lovely, lust-filled night with Benedict. Two weeks since you had officially become his mistress. Two weeks, and you still made sure to keep your past a secret, and the significant fact that you worked as a maid for the family that lives right across from him. There was a certain shame that came with both, a feeling that he would not want you to come to his townhouse anymore if he found out. You thought he might find it odd that you work so close to his house. Perhaps he might even come to the assumption that you were seeking him out at the party, that he would find you strange. None of that would ever be true, of course. Benedict adores the time he spends with you, he makes it clear every time you meet, but there is still an underlying sense of dread. Especially today.

Indeed, that dread is the same dread that is lingering in the back of your head now. You are chaperoning Penelope to tea with Colin, much to her excitement. You had spent almost three hours getting her ready beforehand, insisting that she looks good in whatever she wears. The both of you walked across the street, the young debutante grinning ear to ear. You, on the other hand, were a ball of nerves. You had met Benedict in his bachelor's lodgings just last night, but you decided not to speak of what he may see today. You were regretting that decision now as you knocked on the door with a shaky hand.

“Y/N, you are shaking. Whatever is the matter? Are you feeling well?” Penelope asks, looking at you with pure concern. “It is only a headache, my lady. Nothing you have to worry about. Today is about you.” You assure, smiling as brightly as you can as you fib. She smiles back, her face brightening. The footman, John, answers the door and grins. “Lady Featherington. Lord Bridgerton is in the drawing room. Please come in.” He says, opening his arm towards the entryway. You collect Penelope's shawl before bowing your head to the footman politely. She starts down the hall and you take a deep breath before faking a sparkling smile, following her into the drawing room.

Sure enough, Benedict is there, sprawled out across the sofa with his sketchbook and charcoal in hand. He looks up lazily when Penelope walks in, but his expression quickly changes to one of shock when you follow. Your face shifts from a bright smile to an apologetic one, trying to communicate your worries silently. A silent prayer that he will pick up on your lingering anxieties about working for his neighbor.

He clears his throat and comes to the door, where you are patiently standing. “You… for them?” He whispers as he approaches, his expression unreadable. You only nod in response, knowing that if you say anything it will come out a jumbled mess of stutters. “Why did I not know before now?” He asks, settling into a polite position near you. To anyone on the outside, it looks as if he is merely speaking to a maid about his brother and her mistress. “I... I suppose I did not find it important.” You fib.

“Well, I certainly do. You are so secretive.” He sighs, looking over at you. Your eyes settle on your feet, not daring to meet his. “Y/N. If you are going to be my mistress there must be some semblance of transparency between us.” He says softly, his pinky extending and curling around one of yours. The action makes your cheeks heat up. “I did not know if you would think it strange. I have worked there for so long… I thought you would perhaps think less of me.” You whisper, the reasoning sounding silly now that you have said it out loud.

"And why would I think that?" He asks, sensing your nerves and giving your pinky a comforting squeeze as if to say that he is not put off. "You do not find it strange that I have worked across the road from you for ages? I thought that you would think I somehow... sought you out." You whisper, a bit tense. “No, I only pity that you have to be in the same home as Lady Featherington, the woman is a wench.” He mumbles, nudging your hip with his own. You have to suppress a laugh as you look up at him. He looks down at you with an expression of adoration.

"Y/N, I do appreciate honesty. I wish for you to tell me things like this. You do not need to feel anxious around me." He says softly, turning from playful to concerned like a dime. "I do not. I promise. It is more anxieties that linger because of past experiences I suppose." You whisper, looking down at your feet. He senses that there may be something more underneath, and he also senses that you do not wish to speak about it any longer. "My statement still stands. I am not others, I shall not judge you for being a woman who needs to support herself. I certainly shall not judge you for being apprehensive of telling me the place of your employment either." He assures.

“Thank you.” You breathe, looking away before you slip up and do something entirely untoward. You watch Colin and Penelope interact, a small smile gracing your lips as you observe how sweet they are to each other. “Colin. Does he hold any affection for any of the debutantes this season?” You ponder quietly as you watch Penelope smile shyly at the young man. Benedict looks over as well and a knowing look crosses over his features. “He has been secretive about it. Unusually so.” He whispers back. “And Penelope?” He returns. “Penelope is ever hopeful about one.” You hum before returning your gaze to him.

He meets your eyes and nods, giving your pinky a squeeze with his own. “She is a sweet girl. I have no doubt she will be successful in making her hopes a reality this season.” He murmurs. You nod and look away once more, stolen glances getting all too much paired with the grasp of his finger around yours. “Have you opened yourself up to the idea of marriage, Benedict?” You ask though you do not wish to know the answer. Some strange ache spreads through your chest at the thought of him marrying someone.

He visibly tenses and shakes his head. “No. No, I wish to focus on my art. Improving it, getting ahead in the academy. No time for… marriage right now.” He nods, clearing his throat and quickly returning his gaze to his brother. You nod, something about his vehement denial of the idea of marriage making you calm slightly. “It is quite suffocating. The idea of having to give your whole heart to a person with the risk that they break it. Then you would be… stuck.” You whisper and he looks down at you.

“You believe so?” He asks, his brows knitting together. You look up and nod. “I… what if the person changes once you make your vows? What if they hurt you? I find it terrifying.” You admit. “You do not?” You ask and he shakes his head. “No. I find the risk all the more romantic. If you find someone who truly makes your heart swell, someone who you find you cannot breathe without, who plagues your mind day in and day out, would it not be worth the risk?” He asks and you cannot respond.

“Finding a woman that makes you feel as though you have discovered the reason behind why poets speak of love so greatly, the way that artists paint the feeling so vividly, is well worth the risk to me. It is what makes life so exciting, finding your person. Your reason.” He finishes, and your heart is practically hammering out of your chest. “That is a very beautiful outlook on love, Benedict.” You manage to whisper back, and he smiles. “It is the naive artist in me.” He whispers back, his tone right back to playful and you nod, smiling to yourself. Whoever Benedict marries is a lucky woman, you decide.

Soon, Penelope and Colin part ways and you are forced to let go of Benedict’s pinky. With a quick curtsy to the Bridgerton brothers, you lead Penelope into the entryway where you wrap her shawl around her shoulders. You curtsy once more to the footman before walking the young debutante back home.

She speaks of Colin the whole way back and for the rest of the afternoon. You find it endearing, the amount of love she holds for the young man. She has never once admitted it outright, but it has always been quite clear to you in the way she speaks and looks at him. Your heart used to break for her when she would come crying to you about the things she overheard him say about her, but recently that has all changed. They are both clearly in love.

It makes you think of what it would feel like, to be a young debutante in love. To have all of the dresses in the world, to have your every wish only an arm's length away, to have your every need catered to. You had concluded long ago that love was a privilege, just as happiness and comfort. After all, you never saw any of those things in the neighborhood you grew up in. Not in the families you were surrounded by, and certainly not in your own.

Your father worked in a factory and your mother, though she would never admit it, was a prostitute. When your father reached the age of forty-five, the factory laid him off on the claim that he was getting too old and slow to keep up with the children. That is when your father began drinking. You were about ten and seven at the time, and you had picked up a job under a modiste in town where you met Genevieve. Every night when you would return home you would find your father screaming drunken insults at your mother. Drunken insults turned into drunken actions that he would swear would never happen again, and one day your mother stopped coming home from her nights on the streets.

Then, when you would come home, your father would yell at you. The minute he even hinted at being physical with you, you packed your bags and never looked back. Happiness and love were dead, a silly idea that only people with money could have. You spent another three years living with Genevieve before the job at the Featheringtons was presented to you. You accepted Lady Featherington’s offer gratefully and have been working as a lady’s maid for Penelope ever since. The only person who knows the full story of your past is Genevieve, as transparency is another comfort only granted to those with money. Who knows what would be said about you if you openly admitted that your mother was a lady of the night?

“How do you know Benedict, Y/N?” Penelope’s voice snaps you out of the trance you had been in while brushing her hair out before bed. Your blood runs cold. Had she overheard your conversation? “Whatever do you mean, my lady?” You ask, playing dumb. She snorts and smiles knowingly. “You were talking with him like you had known him your whole life, not to mention the way the both of you were looking at each other.” She says.

“My lady I-” You start, trying to think of any excuse to explain the way you were speaking to Benedict, but she quickly interrupts. “Y/N, you know that whatever you share with me shall be kept with me. I promise.” She says with a comforting smile and you chew on your bottom lip, deciding if you want to tell her the full truth or the half-truth. You quickly decide that there is no point in lying, as you are quite terrible at it.

“We met at a party a few weeks ago.” You whisper as your cheeks turn pink. She turns, making your hands fall to your side. “Really? My God! He is handsome, is he not?” She says with a grin and you smile shyly. “He is indeed, my lady.” You agree and she laughs. “Have you met with him? Has your friendship grown?” She asks and you nod. “I do. I meet with him whenever I am able.” You reply and she nods. “You deserve something wonderful, Y/N. Perhaps he could-” She starts but you shake your head. “It is nothing like that, my lady. I am quite content with my life here, working for you. I see no need in chasing something I am not allowed to have.” You say and her face falls. She nods understandably nonetheless, turning back to the mirror so you can continue to get her ready for bed, the idle conversation turning to one of the books she has read recently.

You make your way down to the servants' quarters after making sure Penelope has everything she needs for the night. As you walk past the other servants one of the other maids stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Grace, what is it?” You ask and she grins. “You have a letter, Y/N. A young man snuck it in while you were taking Penelope shopping this afternoon.” She says with a knowing smile, passing you a small letter.

“Thank you.” You hum before making your way to your small bedroom. You walk in and shut the door behind you, lighting the candle on your desk. “Meet me at midnight, where the world sleeps and the stars whisper secrets. Let us share a moment under the moon's gentle gaze, just you and me, lost in each other's embrace. B.B.” You grin at his somewhat sloppy handwriting, tucking the note away in the lockable drawer in your desk before getting ready to go to his townhouse.

You pin your hair up and put on one of Genevive’s more risque creations, made just for you. A gift for your nineteenth birthday that you have never had a use for until now. It is a baby pink, almost seethrough material that hangs loose on your body. However, it hugs the assets that you find Benedict likes the most. You cover it up with a cloak to walk and slip on your stockings and shoes before making your way out of the Featherington estate.

He had thought of nothing but you since you arrived at his home, even now as he paints in the small drawing room of his townhouse his thoughts are plagued by you. He is trying to be patient, but he wants nothing more than to run to the Featherington residence and have his way with you. His grip on the paintbrush in his hand tightens as his thoughts turn to the way your body moves when you are in his bed. The way his thighs feel hitting yours when he is buried to the hilt inside of you, the noises he draws from your perfect cunt, the way your breasts bounce when you are on top of him.

He groans and drops the paintbrush, burying his head in his hands as his trousers become tighter. He closes his eyes and jiggles his leg, trying to take his mind off sex. How humiliating would it be if he answered the door with his cock fully hard already? He groans and runs a hand through his hair, standing up and moving to the sofa so he can take care of the problem himself. He leans back and unbuttons his trousers, letting his cock spring free against his clothed stomach.

He sighs and spits on his hand beginning to stroke himself to the thought of you. Your face when you reach your peak, the way you moan when he drinks from your body, how your lips wrap around his cock as your eyes look up into his, always so eager to please. He moans at the thought of your perfect breasts pressed against his chest, your nails dragging angry red marks into his back as he fucks you so hard his hips leave marks on your pelvic bone. God, he wants nothing more than to mark you as his for the rest of the world to see. He wants to parade you around all of London completely naked and on all fours.

You smile to yourself as you walk to the back entrance, deciding to surprise him. You are happy to find the back door unlocked and you let yourself in, expecting him to be in the drawing room sat in front of a canvas. You hang up your cloak and seak deeper into the home, making sure your bare feet touch the cold wood as quietly as they can.

You freeze when you hear a loud moan from the drawing room, your heart dropping to your feet. Surely he does not have another woman here, you thought that you had made your boundaries quite clear when he made you his mistress. You did not want to fuck him after he had just fucked another woman, the thought made your stomach roll over with disgust. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you peek inside the drawing room, your lips parting when you are presented with a very much-alone Benedict stroking his cock on the sofa.

Heat pools in your core as your eyes lock in his hand, moving up and down quite quickly. The tip is already an angry red, dripping with hints of his arousal. You take a deep breath and make your way into the room as quietly as you can, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning when he lets out a very breathy, and wanton, “Y/N.” You drop to your knees in front of him, pressing a light kiss to his knee in hopes of not startling him too much.

His eyes shoot open and his hands automatically go to cover himself. You laugh at his startled expression and he sighs in relief, moving a hand down to cup your cheek. “How did you get in?” He breathes, running his thumb along your cheekbone. You hum and lean into his gentle caress. “You left the back door unlocked. So irresponsible, Bridgerton.” You murmur and he chuckles, the deep sound making your thighs all wet and sticky.

“Perhaps I was being hopeful.” He whispers back and you smile. “You have not commented on the dress I have on. I worked so very hard to look good for you.” You tease, jutting your lip out playfully. He rolls his eyes and gestures for you to stand, making you giggle as you do. “Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He grunts, placing his hands on your hips. You swat them away and he huffs in frustration. “Do not pout, I want to please you. Please.” You whisper and all of his resolve suddenly disappears.

He watches as you sink back down onto your knees between his legs, slowly slipping his trousers off. Once his legs are bare, you begin to pepper the inside of his thighs with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He groans and slides a hand into your hair, making the pins fall out. He plays with your curls and grips as you press a kiss so very close to his twitching cock, his reaction making you smirk.

Without warning you take his tip into your mouth, sucking on it like an ice lolly. He groans and rolls his head back, his hips bucking up as he grips your hair to try and push you onto his cock. You allow him to guide you, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as your nose gets pressed into his pubic hair. You look up at him just as he looks down at you, a cocky smirk plastered across his face as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The action makes you moan, your hand sneaking between your legs to soothe the ache that has settled there.

You whine and grind down onto your fingers, the vibrations making him grunt and stall. You gag and tap once on his thigh, pulling off of him when he lets go. Drool dribbles down your neck and between your breasts as you pant, looking up at him with glassy eyes. He curls his fingers around your chin and leads you up onto your feet. “So perfect.” He whispers as his hands find their way to the soft flesh of your rear. He squeezes and you gasp, moving to straddle him as if on instinct.

He hums and presses a kiss to your lips as he begins to undo the ribbons on your dress. The fabric falls and he lifts your hips, his lips still locked with yours. He throws the dress somewhere across the room and his hands come to your waist, moving you so you are lying flat on the sofa. He breaks the kiss only to lick a stripe down your neck as your legs wrap around his waist. He hums and bites your collarbone as his fingers plow through your folds, making you cry out loudly. He smirks and rubs his thumb around your clit, slipping one long finger into your entrance.

Your eyes roll back as his finger curls into that spongey spot he somehow knows how to find right away each time. He adds another finger and begins to twist, slowly getting your body ready for him. You pant hard and crowd a hand into his thick hair, tugging him up from your neck so you can steal a sloppy kiss full of tongue and tooth. You whine when the feeling of his fingers disappears and buck your hips up into his, silently begging for whatever he wants to give you.

He parts the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, his tip nudging your entrance. You whine and close your eyes, at which he grips your chin. “Look at me while I fuck you, Y/N. You know the rules.” He breathes and your eyes snap open. He grins and buries himself completely inside of you with one thrust, making you cry out as he grunts. “Fuck. Fuck, you… God. So tight.” He breathes, beginning to pound into you at a brutal pace. You grip his arms, your mouth hanging open as loud moans and whines slip past your lips beyond your control.

He pounds into you, your nails dragging down his back with every thrust. His hands press down onto your hips so hard you are sure that his fingerprints will be embedded in your skin. He revels in the slick noises he draws from your cunt, sucking a mark on your chest where he knows it will not be seen. The sound of thighs meeting thighs fills the small space, the smell of sex making your mind foggy. His pelvis slams against your clit with every thrust, making an utterly intoxicating feeling of pain and pleasure wash over your body as he fills you to the brim.

He is so close already, what with palming himself and a quick suck from you. He presses his head into the crook of your neck and bites down, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. His hand sneaks between both of your bodies and his thumb finds your clit, circling fast so that he can get you to where he is. It works wonderfully and your cunt clenches around him ad you call out his name. He pulls out quickly, spilling himself on your stomach as his fingers take you to your climax. A pinch to your clit takes you over the edge, seeing stars and babbling nonsense about how good he is as you do.

He lifts himself off of you and cuddles into your side, making you smile. He peppers your shoulder with kisses and you laugh. “Stay?” He whispers after a moment of nothing but kisses and the sounds of your breathing. Your cheeks heat up at the adorable, hopeful expression that crosses over his face. “Mmm. I think I can, Mister Bridgerton.” You tease, flipping him onto his back and crawling over him. “Jesus Christ. You are utter perfection.” He whispers, claiming your mouth again.

Perhaps, love is not that far away.

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comet-forgot-you · 4 months

Note

What about River comforting R? Like R’s super ‘tough and reserved’ and all ‘idgaf’, but just breaks when River’s around.

me fr

breathe

river x reader

summary: river comforts you after a very unexpected anxiety attack.

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack i think thats all

a/n: this is my first time writing something that isnt smut. kinda nervous lol. i had to look up hurt/comfort prompts before settling on this one. do not repost for any reason.

the room felt like it was getting smaller and smaller, a pool of worry gathering in the pit of your stomach. your eyes darted around the booth, hyperaware of every single surrounding. the sound of the person breathing next to you, the sound of the fan rattling in the corner, the words of river’s friends talking getting jumbled together. it was like every sound was heightened.

it was sudden, you didnt know where the sudden wave of pure anxiety had come from. had something happened to someone? your body goes rigid, you glance around the booth again, hoping no one had noticed the slight shift in your demeanor. your eyes find river’s her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you with worried eyes. you tear your gaze from hers, the feeling of tears prickling in your eyes, threatening to escape was not something you were interested in at the moment. you didn’t want to cry surrounded by people you barely knew. your breath caught in your throat, hands shaking in your lap.

you wanted, needed to leave. you couldn’t stand being in the crowded booth any longer, couldnt stand that constant chatter and scraping of metal forks against plates. it was all too much, the people, the noise, too much. you elbow the guy sitting beside you, the one that had you squashed between him and the girl beside you. your breath came out in a heavy exhale.

“what the fuck?” he winces, cradling his ribs in his hand.

“move, i need to get out.” your voice sounds normal to everyone else, but you could hear the shakiness of it, and you knew river could hear it, too. he stares at you like you’re crazy, but your lungs itch to fill with air that the crowded booth doesn’t seem to be providing. “fucking move!” you don’t mean to yell, every eye in the restaurant landing on you. you could feel it, but you feel like the room is closing in on you, it felt loke the weight of the world was loading itself onto you shoulders. he quickly moves out of the booth and scurry up after, eyes darting to river before fumbling for your wallet stuffed in your pocket.

“are you okay?” it’s the girl sitting next to river that asks. you glance up at her, you fear that if you say something, you’ll break down. but you try anyways.

“yeah, i just..” you’re fumbling over your words. “i forgot about this meeting.” you throw enough cash on the table to handle the two of yours’ meal and rush out of the packed restaurant.

the cool winter air fills your lungs, but it still doesn’t feel like its enough. your hands shake at your sides and you curl them in a ball. your eyes dart around the street before taking off for the parking garage you had parked almost an hour ago in. you make it into the dark, concrete structure when a hand tugs your own.

“hey, what’s wrong?” river. she sounds almost breathless, almost as if she bad been running after you. you turn to face her and you can’t hold the tears back anymore, they fall freely from your eyes. you’re hyperventilating, gripping the hand that holds your own.

“i- i don’t know,” your breathing is ragged, “i couldn’t help it, i’m sorry,” you barely process the words tumbling messily out of your lips. river pulls you into her arms, your head resting in the crook of her neck.

“hey, its okay. you’re okay, i have you.” her hands soothe your hair, an action she knew brought you some sense of comfort. your hands wrap around her waist, hold onto them in an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. “breathe, baby. i know its hard right now, but you need to.” she takes a deep breath in, and you follow her lead, allowing your breathing to regulate. “lets go to the car, yeah? you think you can walk to the car?” you nod against her neck, pulling back. she takes your hand into hers, squeezing it.

the two of you climb into the back seat of the car, your tears having come down with the walk. your hands still shook in river’s hold, she presses kisses to your face, wiping away at the tears that flowed down your face. “m’ sorry, riv. i don’t know why i broke down like that,” you felt so guilty ripping her from her time with her friends. it was a lunch she had been talking about for weeks, talking about how excited for it she was, how much she missed her friends and couldn’t wait to introduce you to them, the thought of letting her down caused a stream of tears to slide down your face. “m’ sorry, river,” the pace of your breathing picks up, borderline hyperventilating. “i didn’t mean to mess it up,” your voice is hoarse.

river cradles your face in her hand. “you didn’t do anything wrong. its okay, i understand, and i’ll make sure they understand. what matters is that you’re okay. you couldn’t help it, and that’s okay. i want you to be okay, we can always reschedule.” her words are soft, they lift the weight that previously sat on your shoulders right off. you wrap your arms around her shoulders, hugging her closer to you.

a/n: im sorry if this is terrible and absolutely not what was wanted, i rarely ever read hurt/comfort and i have the memory of a child at a family gathering that completely forgets you after like 3 days even though they said you were best friends.

#mikey madison x reader #mikey madison #all souls #all souls movie #river all souls #river x reader #not smut for once #my first time writing smth like to is

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nicoline1998enilocin · 4 months

Text

Love is all you knead

Pairing ⇒ Bakery Owner!Boyfriend!Tony Stark x Employee!Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

Word count ⇒ 3.5K

Summary ⇒ Today is the first day you'll be staying over at Tony's house, and he plans to make it a night you'll never forget. It all goes differently than you expected because when you meet his housemate, your attention is completely focused on him as soon as you arrive. Nevertheless, Tony will ensure you'll have a wonderful first night at his house; he'll go above and beyond to do exactly that.

Rating ⇒ Explicit (E)

Warnings ⇒ Established relationship, unspecified age gap, use of pet name (Peach), reference to social anxiety, reference to animal abandonment & rescuing

Smut ⇒ Dirty talk, daddy kink, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, oral (M receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), squirting

A/n ⇒ This one-shot is written to fill day 18 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. It's proofread, melted, and drooled over by @ccbsrmsf1, for which I cannot thank you enough! I love you 🩵

A/n 2.0 ⇒ My requests are open again! Please consider that I only have 24 hours in my day, so it might take a while to get the new requests posted, but I expect to post them around February/March. I'll be looking forward to what you will all come up with, and I can't wait to start writing requests again 🩵

Events Masterlist ⇒ @buckys-wintersoldier ⇒ ''You're so cute, you know that?''

Banners: @vase-of-lilies ⇒ Divider: @firefly-graphics ⇒ GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist ⇒ Tony Stark Masterlist ⇒ AU Masterlist

Today's promising to be a beautiful winter day as you're getting ready to go and visit Tony, your boyfriend, at his house. Your outfit is lying on your bed, ready to slip into after your shower. You and Tony have the day off today, so he promised to make dinner for you. Not only is he a fantastic baker, but he is also a hero in the kitchen.

Your overnight bag is also ready to go, and you decided to bring a nice bottle of red wine to pair with dinner since he offered to make your favorite seafood pasta. It doesn't take long for you to be dressed and ready to head to his house, but the nerves are settling in slightly.

Not only will it be your first time staying over at his place, but it'll also be your first time meeting his housemate, making you much more nervous and anxious. Something you've struggled with a lot is social anxiety. Still, ever since you started working in Tony's bakery, you have become a lot better at navigating social interactions and being around people you don't know.

Right now, however, it is back in full force. Though you decide not to let it hold you back, you will have Tony by your side the entire time. In the meantime, Tony is conversing with his 'housemate,' his cat named Oliver.

''Are you excited, Buddy? It won't be just you and me tonight,'' Tony says as he's leaning against the counter, Oliver lying in his arms with his belly up as Tony scratches his soft belly. He happily purrs away while Tony keeps talking, just enjoying the attention he's getting.

''Yeah, Peach is finally coming over. Remember? I told you about her after our first night together! God, I'm so lucky to call her my girlfriend... And in the future, we will ask her to be your Mommy; how does that sound?'' he says with a content sigh when his phone gives him the notification of your message.

Peach 🍑 >> I'm just leaving now. I'll be there in 45 minutes ❤️

He quickly responds that he can't wait to see you, and after giving Oliver a few more scratches, Tony brings him to his cat tree, where he can nap as Tony finishes the sauce since it will have to simmer for a few hours.

Before he can even turn around, Oliver is already curled up into a little ball as he lets sleep take him over, and Tony can't help but chuckle at the actions of his little feline companion.

After the sauce is finished, he tidies up the last bits here and there before he hears the doorbell ring, notifying him of your arrival. During the car ride, you could feel your anxiety rising, but as soon as the door swings open, every last doubt or nervousness melts away.

''Hi, Peach,'' Tony says before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside with a warm smile, letting you put your overnight bag on the floor before his hands capture your face, reuniting his lips with yours. His plump, soft lips are a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands holding your face, and you can't help but clench slightly to give a little relief.

''You look beautiful today,'' he whispers as he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours as you both catch your breaths from the kiss. His deep, dark brown eyes are focused on yours, making it feel like your skin is on fire. After one more soft kiss, you pull away, ready to be let into his home.

He grabs your hand before leading you into the house, showing you every room, though you don't see much of it as you mostly have eyes for your boyfriend. His broad shoulders and thick biceps are stretching the black shirt he's wearing deliciously, and his jeans are tight around his thighs, showing off his ass and bulge perfectly.

''Peach?'' Tony says as you're standing in the kitchen, Tony caging you in against the counter as he leans on it. His nose is only inches from yours as a deep blush creeps over your cheeks, knowing you've been caught drifting off in your thoughts.

''Hmm?'' you hum as a question, and the smile on Tony's face gives you butterflies in your stomach. The tiny crinkles by his eyes, the white teeth, and the way his tongue slightly pokes out between them have you melting into a puddle.

''I asked what you think of the house,'' he says with a chuckle, but before you can answer, you feel tiny feet against your leg and look down to see the cutest cat you've ever seen. Tony lets out a deep sigh before he moves back, giving you the space to say hi to Oliver.

''Oh my god, aren't you a precious, chubby little guy?'' you coo at him as he bumps his head against your hand, happily accepting all the attention he can get from you, his new Mommy. Until now, it has always been just him and Tony, but judging how he acts now, you're not allowed to leave his home ever again.

''Well, I was going to introduce you two later, but since the little devil is already awake, I might as well do it now,'' he says as he crouches next to you, but Oliver doesn't care. He only wants attention from you as he plops down to show his belly, letting you scratch it to get the ultimate purrs from the little guy.

''Why did you never mention you have a cat?! I would have come over much sooner if I knew,'' you say with a chuckle, but in all reality, he has mentioned Oliver countless times. It just never occurred to you that he was his cat.

''Oh, I did, Peach. All these silly stories about Oliver? It's all him. He had been with me since he was a small kitten, and I rescued him from behind the bakery. Someone dropped him off in a cardboard box in the pouring rain; the poor guy almost didn't survive,'' Tony says, his voice trailing off near the end.

As you listen to the story, you feel tears burning in your eyes as you keep scratching his belly. Oliver's purrs quickly make you forget all about your sadness, though, as it almost has a healing effect on your brain. And from that moment on, you and Oliver would be practically inseparable whenever you were at his house.

''But I didn't just save him; he saved me, as well. Before I had little Oliver, it was the same boring routine every day, and I was at a point in my life where I wanted to sell the bakery and move on to something else. When I found him, I started to see life a lot differently, and I am where I am now because of him, so in a sense, I owe him my happiness. It brought me to you, after all,'' Tony tells you, a blush now creeping onto his cheeks, too.

''I didn't have anyone here when I came home, so I started spending more time at the bakery until I reached the point of sleeping there some nights. But that all changed when I met this little devil. Now I have someone to talk to when I'm home, and he'll never complain when I talk too much!'' Tony jokes, making you both laugh.

''So yeah, like I said, I owe him pretty much my life at this point,'' he says softly, and you lay your head on Tony's shoulder to comfort him. It's the first time you've ever heard about this story, and even though it makes you a little sad, you're also glad that little Oliver managed to turn your boyfriend's life around.

''I'm glad he saved you,'' you whisper before capturing Tony's lips again, pouring every ounce of love into it.

You and Tony decide to watch a movie until it's time for dinner, and you're cuddled up under a blanket with Tony, and Oliver is lying on your lap as you're scratching behind his ears. You're watching one of your favorite movies: Jurrasic Park. After Tony mentioned he'd never seen them, you brought your copy, and here you are.

''So? What do you think?'' you say as you look at Tony with a hopeful look. He looks at you with a serious expression, not giving anything away before he breaks, bursting into laughter.

''I love it, Peach. It's one of the better movies I've watched in a long time!'' he says, and then it's time for dinner. Tony set the table with two plates, some candles, wine glasses, and the wine you brought, ready to dive in.

''Allow me to guide you to the dining room, m'lady,'' Tony says as he holds out his hand, and you happily grab it. He pulls it to his mouth and places a soft kiss on your knuckles, making you giggle softly in response, and then he leads you to the dining room, which is dimly lit with candles. Soft music is playing in the background as he pulls out your chair and pushes it back in as you sit down.

After taking his place across from you, he allows you to grab some pasta first, pour some of the wine before raising it, and give a small toast.

''A toast to you, Peach. To the most beautiful, caring, and loving woman in my life,'' he says before clinking his glass against yours and bringing it to his lips, allowing the taste of the red wine to coat his tongue, humming at the taste.

The conversation over dinner ranges from lighthearted topics, like the bakery and Oliver, to deeper topics, like you've always dreamt of becoming a Mom one day.

''I've always dreamt of becoming a Mom. I just never had the privilege of meeting someone who wants the same,'' you tell him, and his heart sinks a little. Not because he doesn't want them but because he has been in the same boat for the last 20 years. He isn't the youngest anymore and doesn't plan on becoming a Dad by the time he passes 50.

After this, the conversation turns light again, and after you move to the couch again, continue your earlier conversations. When it's nearly 11 PM, you start to yawn slightly, and that's when Tony lifts you, ready to bring you to the bedroom.

''You. Stay. Peach is all mine for the rest of the night,'' Tony says as he glares at Oliver, who was cleaning himself on the cat tree but is now looking at Tony with a face that says, ''Oh yeah? Let's see about that!''

He kicks the door shut behind him, and that's when he carefully lays you on the bed before undressing you carefully. First, your boots and socks, then your pants, followed by your sweater, leaving you in the red lingerie you put on for him. A soft gasp escapes his lips as he takes in your body, his eyes gliding over every dip, curve, and inch of exposed skin.

''I will never get enough of you, Peach. You look like an absolute Goddess, and I can't wait to worship you every day,'' he tells you, and goosebumps erupt all over your body at his words. He's undressing himself, too, and you can see he's already near full hardness, making you salivate at the sight.

''How about you lie back for me, Peach, and I will start by showing you just how I would do that?'' he whispers as he crawls over you, leaving soft kisses on your neck and jaw before you scoot back on the bed, your head landing softly on the pillows. You look up at him with desire coursing through your veins, and your hand snakes into his hair before pulling him closer, molding your lips together with his.

His hips rut against your core involuntarily at the feeling of how soft your lips are, and he has to try his hardest not to lose himself in you already. As he pulls away, a soft groan spills from his lips, your fingers tugging softly on his hair in anticipation of what's to come.

''I want to make you feel good, Daddy, please!'' you whine softly, and Tony has never been one to deny you anything, let alone when you beg for him like this.

''How can I say no to my beautiful Peach when she begs so sweetly? You need Daddy, don't you,'' he whispers in your ear before softly nibbling on your earlobe, making your hand move down and scratch his back down to cup and squeeze his ass, pulling him even closer as his lips follow the line of your jaw, finding their home on the sensitive spot on your neck.

Tony moves back until he's lying on his back, spreading his thick thighs to make room for you to settle in between. Your fingers hook quickly behind the hem of his boxers, pulling it down in a smooth motion as you watch his cock spring to attention with a soft splat, precum already dripping from the tip.

The vein on the bottom of his cock is on display, and the first thing you do is lean forward to run your tongue along the length of it, just the way he likes, before grabbing the bottom and taking his tip into your mouth with a suckling sensation.

''Fuck!'' he exclaims as you do so, his back arching off the bed as you take more of his length into your mouth. The stretch is already causing a slight burn in your jaw that you happily accommodate, wanting to take him as deep as you can. A deep groan falls from his lips as the tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

You pull off him with a pop as you catch your breath, a wicked smile forming on your lips as you look at him through your eyelashes.

''Tastes so good, Daddy,'' is all you say as your hand keeps a slow, steady pace before you take him in your mouth again, but this time focussing on his tip instead, alternating between suckling and giving kitten licks over his slit that have him craving more.

''Peach, let me take care of you, please! God, you make me so hard, and I want to be buried deep inside you, fuck'' he tells you. Before you can even comprehend what's happening, you're entirely bare on your back, and Tony lines up with your entrance, growing increasingly impatient every second.

''Daddy, please-'' is all you can say before his cock breaches your entrance, slipping in with a pleasurable burn. His head rests against your forehead as he makes eye contact, making the moment even more intimate.

''Can't wait to cum inside you, Peach, especially since you told me you want to be a Mom. Can't stop thinking about getting you pregnant; you'll look so fucking beautiful with a round belly, carrying our beautiful baby we made together,'' he tells you between groans, your eyes rolling back in your head as the pleasure takes you over, moans tumbling uncontrollably from your lips.

''Will fuck you every single day, Peach, stuff you so full of my cum until you're pregnant, have to make sure it'll take and not waste a single drop,'' he pants, his pace quickly becoming sloppy as he can feel his orgasm creeping closer. Your hand sneaks in between your bodies, and you find your clit without any effort, quickly trapping him inside you as the grip on his cock becomes stronger as your orgasm washes over you.

With a loud exclamation of his name, you cum with your juices squirting out of you, soaking both Tony and the sheets right before Tony stills inside you, his cum coating your walls before collapsing on top of you, your hands gliding into his hair as you both let the moment last as long as possible. Not a word is said between you two, but the love you both feel for each other is visible, and you can't get enough of him, though he eventually has to pull out and clean both of you up.

Tony gets up to grab some clothes, and he takes one good look at your fucked out state, a thin layer of sweat all over your body, a healthy blush spreading over your cheeks as you look up at your boyfriend, admiring every last dip, curve, and muscle of his. On his cheeks is a deep blush that spreads down to his neck and chest, a dopey smile, and rough curls on his head finishing the look.

''I love you, Peach, and thank you for being here tonight,'' Tony says gravelly, your heart beating faster as you hear it. He grabs you a shirt of his and a pair of panties from your overnight bag before handing them to you, putting on a pair of his boxer shorts as well.

''Shall I let Oliver in before he gets impatient? He might want some cuddles with his Mommy,'' Tony says, the deep blush on his cheeks only intensifying as he says those words, and when you have a pair of panties and one of Tony's shirts on, you agree. As the door opens, Oliver runs in and jumps onto the bed, finding his place on your lap again for cuddles.

''Is that true? Are you Mommy's boy?'' you ask little Oliver, and he purrs loudly, letting you know he agrees.

''He is, Peach, and I am too when it comes to you,'' he says before capturing your lips with his again, sealing your love with a sweet, slow kiss. The rest of the night is spent cuddling before you fall asleep in Tony's arms, Oliver finding his place by your feet as he snores softly.

The following day, Tony got up earlier than usual to walk to the florist on the corner of his street, getting a small bouquet of red roses to surprise you with during breakfast. They're standing in a vase on the kitchen island as he's preparing breakfast. Oliver is now looking at Tony from his place atop the cat tree.

He whips up some freshly made pancakes with syrup, the smell filling Tony's house as he whips up some scrambled eggs on the side and a cup of steaming hot coffee to finish it all. The small vase with roses is put on a serving tray with your breakfast before he calls over Oliver, attaching one of the roses to his collar for an extra surprise.

''Alright, let's go wake up, Mommy!'' Tony says, and Oliver struts to the bedroom, swiftly followed by Tony, who pushes the door open with his foot, now glad he left it slightly open as he walked out. He places the food on the floor on his nightstand before gently getting onto the bed and waking you up with soft kisses.

''Good morning, sleepyhead,'' he giggles, and it's a sound you never thought you'd ever hear but that you now can't get enough of.

''You're so cute, you know that? With your soft snores,'' he says as you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you smile at him, letting the reality sink in that you've stayed over at your boyfriend's house, the warm feeling of love spreading throughout your chest.

Tony goes to grab breakfast when Oliver jumps onto the bed, and you instantly spot the little rose on his collar, making you melt a little at the sight.

''Look at you! You are so adorable like this,'' you say as you give Oliver some attention before Tony places the breakfast on your lap, and you see all your favorites. A big smile spreads across your face as you grab the cup of coffee, taking a small sip to let the bitter taste coat your tongue, moaning softly as it glides down your throat.

''Thank you for everything, Tony; you truly managed to make our first time special,'' you tell him before stealing one more kiss and diving into the breakfast he prepared. After that, you're getting ready for work, and it's a good thing you stayed at his house to carpool together.

''Have a good day at work, Mr. Stark,'' you say with a wink, standing on your tiptoes to get one last kiss as you tie your apron behind your back, ready to get started on the customer orders going out today.

''You too, future Mrs. Stark,'' Tony says just loud enough for you to hear, and when you whip your head around, he winks at you with a mischievous smile. And from that moment on, it's all you can think about. Becoming Tony's wife sounds like a dream come true, and you can't wait for it to come true one day.

#fluffcember 2023 #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagine #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark fluff #tony stark smut

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phoenixfl3009 · 5 months

Text

Decided to do a warm up by writing a fun little “Fizzarozzie first kiss” scenario 💋💙💚

- - -

Fizz was understandably nervous.

Sweat beaded along his pasty white temple as he stared headlong into what remained of his breakfast. A single raspberry adorned his plate, desolate and destitute amidst a sea of syrup. With a dour frown, he continued to poke and prod and press at the glistening red berry with the end of an ornate-looking fork, trying vainly to suppress a shout of frustration at the maddening flutter of wings inside his lower stomach.

Do it, he thought. Just rip the band-aid off.

Naturally, predictably, Fizz remained as still as stone; his metallic fingertips a vice over the ivory utensil.

At his side, a discontented hum could be heard, followed by the familiar crinkling of paper. “Another gala?” Asmodeus intoned wryly, incredulity and exasperation weighing in equal measure as he regarded the news article. “Didn’t Luci just hold one’a these last week?”

“Actually, it was three days ago.” Fizz answered, surprising even himself as the words poured freely from his mouth, unbidden. He vehemently tamped down on the urge to slap a hand over his own mouth and instead settled for reaching across the length of the table for the pitcher of coffee, only too eager to drown his anxieties beneath the brunt weight of caffeine. He swallowed greedily, even as the ebony liquid scalded his tongue.

Fortunately, Ozzie didn’t appear to notice, having been too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice how skittish his jester was behaving. The chimera uttered a disbelieving scoff and proceeded to set the article aflame with a plume of cyan-imbued heat. “Yeah, that tracks. Knowing him, he’s probably using it as an excuse to celebrate his marriage, like always.” Ozzie conceded with a sigh. He brought his chin to rest in the center of a colossal palm and seemed to stare listlessly into space. “I can’t say I blame him. If I had someone like Lilith, I don’t think I could resist bragging neither.”

Fizz nearly choked on his mouthful. Nearly. Miraculously, he managed to save face and swallowed past the burning itch that had taken root in his throat.

Then, Asmodeus turned and offered Fizz a devilish grin. “What do you think,” He drawled in a tone as sweet and as spellbindingly heady as mead, drawing his index along the scope of Fizz’s spine. “My queen?”

This time around, Fizz does, indeed, choke spectacularly. His throat constricted tightly mid-swallow, lending the sensation that he was being drowned before he inevitably proceeded to hack his lungs up.

Satan’s balls, why refer to him as that, of all things? Of all days?

This was arguably not how Fizz imagined any of this would go; he was fucking this up left, right, and center.

A hand found purchase along the line of his back, the fingers drawing soothing circles as Asmodeus crooned softly. “Take it easy, babe. That’s it, breathe slowly,” He instructed as Fizz struggled to steady his breathing. Ozzie frowned, his features rife with concern as he regarded the red-faced imp. “You feeling okay? You’re usually not so jumpy.”

Despite himself, Fizz feigned a toothy grin. “I’m fine! Just, uh, a tickle in my throat.” He played it off with a wave of his hand, wondering if perhaps there was any conceivable way he could possibly salvage the situation. He had been thinking about this moment for so long already, and he feared if he waited any longer, the opportunity would pass him by completely and he would never have another chance, ever. It was inevitable, after all; how long could the Sin of Lust allow himself to be limited to just one demon? Really, it was a miracle Ozzie hadn’t grown tired of him after the first month, let alone three months.

Despite his assurance, Ozzie remained nonplussed and continued to look to Fizz imploringly. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?” The Sin inquired, sounding so genuine and so sincere, Fizz’s heart seized momentarily and the butterflies that had taken root inside of him tripled in their efforts; every velvety pass of their wingtips sending shivers throughout his entire body.

Fizz didn’t know what compelled him to speak, but when he did, the words felt foreign on his tongue, as if they weren’t entirely his own. “You could kiss it better,” He said, his voice ringing clearly in his ears.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. Dismissal and flat-out rejection being the two most obvious contenders, followed by pity, disgust, and disbelief. Asmodeus represented lust in its purest form; wild, unkempt, and untamed, and while kissing could be construed as lustful to some, for Asmodeus, it was tantamount to blasphemy. He didn’t kiss anyone, ever, and no one was permitted to kiss him. It simply wasn’t done.

Fizz knew that, had known that since the beginning of this arrangement, and yet, had the absolute gall to voice his request anyways, knowing full well that if it backfired, he could very well lose what he had with Ozzie in the here and now.

He continued to wait with bated breath, anticipating only the worst as Ozzie continued to stare coolly at him. Neither the ram nor the bull betrayed him, each having adopted a surprisingly neutral expression as Ozzie mulled it over. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he said, simply, “Okay.”

Fizz blinked, mouth agape, his mind racing a mile a minute as it struggled to process what the other had said when suddenly, he felt a mouth being pressed against his own.

Despite the stark difference in size and height, Ozzie’s mouth slotted perfectly with Fizz’s own. His beak was smooth to the touch and inexplicably warm, sending waves of molten heat throughout his entire body. He couldn’t help but compare the sensation to that of the circus, except unlike those flames that had only sought to inflict pain and suffering, these flames were gentle and kind and promised only safety and security.

It was heavenly.

It was otherworldly.

It was everything.

The kiss seemed to span lifetimes, and at the same time, mere seconds, ending far, far sooner than Fizz would have liked. His mind swam and a pleasant buzz entered his lips as he contemplated just how and why Ozzie would think to do something as wildly out of character as kiss him without wanting anything in return, sexually or otherwise.

The answer, astonishingly, came from none other than Ozzie.

The Sin smiled warmly at him, the expression reflected neatly across all three heads as he continued to gaze at Fizz as though he was the most precious thing in the entire world—as though he was Ozzie’s entire world. “Whatever my queen desires.”

#helluva boss #fizzarozzie #fizzmodeus #helluva boss asmodeus #helluva boss fizzarolli #fizz x ozzie

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