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#welcome home blurb
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Hey, I saw your post and was wondering if you could do a human Wally x anxious reader? Hope you are having a good day, night or afternoon! Don't forget to not overwhelm yourself
[I won't!, promise]
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The heat of the spot-lights burn your skin, the air was fat to warm for your liking. The smell of hairspray and perfumes made you want to gag. It was becoming to much-!
"(Y/N), are you alright?"
Wally Darling, known for his good-natured and amazing talents, a fella who's always never feared the limelight.
"(Y/N)?"
You try to pull yourself together, not wanting to seem like a baby in front of the lead actor. Yet here you were, shyly rubbing your arms and feeling like you were gonna start spitting up like a toddler.
"Mx. (Y/N), would you like a drink from the snack table to clear your mind?" Mr. Darling said softly, patting your shoulder gently.
"I-.. Yes, I'd like that. Thank you."
Mr. Darling leads you to the snack bar, handing you a cup of water as Wally smiles dopely at you.
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[Give me something harder! Jk! That was fun!]
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Has anybody written a fanfic yet about being like uh…the Tennessee Governors daughter? -or some such, and being a young debutante who’s part of Elvis’ welcome home committee when he comes back in 1960, and you gotta show him ‘round the capital and help with the ceremony making him a honorary colonel and he takes far more of a shine to you than he oughta considering you’re barely outta high-school, come from Old Money and are headed down a trajectory that doesn’t involve being his live-in-dolly and backseat fumble?…
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…even once it lands him in a heap of trouble he still insists that even fancy little girls have simple needs, he was just fulfilling yours when they caught y’all in the broom closet
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This whole aura just came to me and I’ve nothing else fleshed out with plot or motivation but I just had a hankering
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cupophrogs · 7 months
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Really missed this comic so it’s repost #1!
Mob! Colt belongs to @thelone-copper and Mob! Home (and the whole au) is @clownsuu’s :)
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xmayleensyo · 10 months
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I don’t know why…but watching all the bug clips of Wally observing? Listening? to scenes of all the neighbors interacting just gives me a weird sense of familiarity of being that mentally ill and severely anxious mute kid. Like I was part of everything. But I just sat in the middle listening to everything else instead. Learning. Figuring out how social cues worked and what’s an appropriate reaction. Just being there but also not. And Wally’s personality just always had this performative aspect to it too. Like a blank puppet just learning how things flow yet would still fall flat and monotone about it since they were just mimicked reactions. Idk. That was me. I always did that when I was younger. It just was a lot of deja vu and I don’t know what that means for me or the story lol
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caregivingchrysalises · 2 months
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hey lovebug i’m- hi sweetheart *hair ruffles and head pats* i know i flew away a little longer than i’d promised *nodding into my shirt sniffling* awe sunshine i’m here now it’s all going to be alright *grabby hands tugging my shirt- wings fluttering in response* would my little love like to come fly with me? no no not too far, can papa pick you up? yeah alright three… two… one *carefully lifts you into my arms and sits you comfortably* swoosh (i’m not sure how to write flying noises hahah) here we are little one *i sit us down on the soft mattress wings finally able to spread out behind me* how was that for an adventure lovebug? *nuzzles noses and forehead kisses* yeah, let’s see i think it’s the perfect time to get some rest hm, does that sound good sweetheart, i’d be happy to read a story or sing something if you’d like~ whatever you wish little one
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IN THE DEFENSE OF MASCOT HORROR
Okay. So. I know recently there’s been a boom in mascot horror games and a lot have either been meh or pretty bad. But, in all honesty. I think the concept of mascot horror is interesting and I’m happy to see where it evolves into in the future.  Mascot horrors that dive into the nostalgia part of the horror is what I’m talking about. Granted, the newer fnaf series really doesn’t dive into that old style of mascot stuff since mostly it’s just turned into black mirror with animal mascots and child murder plus a pinch of timey whimy shit but, there are still some that I believe perfectly encapsulates the nostalgia that I believe mascot horrors should hone in on.  I think the concept of nostalgic horror is great, especially when dealing with some core memory that a majority of people understand. (I.e going to an entertainment center, playing old 90′s-2000s shitty edutatment flash games, and old tv shows from the 70′s-80′s that you vaguely remember due to them being on old channels that you use to watch as a kid, Gameboy and D.S games  and heck even older designs of themeparks all have sense of nostalgia to them to a certain crowd of people (Mainly millennials and older gen z who grew up with older technology still trickling into there system) 
Now, I’m not saying games like Fnaf security breach or sister location are bad. In fact, I like both, I love security breach’s bright atmosphere and I love the raging 80′s effect that it gives up. It’s the sort of retro future vibes mixed with a very light version of 1986 Chopping Mall.  But, it doesn’t really have the same impact mentally as the OG fnaf. The cruddy old designs of the animatronics compared to the the shiny futuristic designs of security breach doesn’t have that same kick as the old fnaf games.  In turn, even though a lot of people are tired of the mascot horror genre. I think it can really be explored even more to the fullest as generations of people experience new things that make them nostalgic. 
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Wally Darling is up First!
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Alrighty, first up of course is Wally Darling!
Wally is usually very energetic and seems always eager to do things, seemingly hates to do nothing and waste his day away. Is a trickster despite not understanding certain jokes and sarcasm, he's very good at pulling pranks and no one seems to be able to pull one on him. Hangs out with Barnaby mostly but sometimes he'll be with Howdy or surprisingly Frank. He likes to mess with Howdy the most and Frank makes a good reading buddy. He will sometimes be dragged into Sally's plays or shenanigans that her and Julie like to play on the neighborhood, he doesn't mind its entertaining at least. For how long the show has been on air Wally has been through quite a lot of outfit changes. Although he always ends up with his red scarf and rainbow pants no matter the outfit. After two decades of the same hairstyle Wally, with some encouragement from some viewers he changed it. Normally keeps it simple but sometimes will do wacky styles simply for a laugh. Will usually wear his famous pompadour for special occasions such as birthdays or the show's anniversary. Over the many years Wally has also dipped his toes into multiple artistic mediums though painting will always be his go to medium. Oil paints are a close second but only by a smidge, will often have some smeared paint on his cheeks or forehead. Has a habit of giving everyone a nickname regardless of if they like it or not. Is the second smallest puppet in the neighborhood.
Wally knows of the world outside of the show but doesn't bring it up he just lets it fester in the back of his mind. Mostly due to a series of unfortunate experiences he's went through he actively steers others away from entertaining the idea, hoping to prevent them from being punished by Home. He frequently couch-hops between all the neighbors due to becoming uncomfortable sleeping inside of Home for more than a few days at a time. Can't sleep very well inside of Home due to said sentient house's whispers and seeing the strange abilities Home uses during the late hours of the night. Along with the punishment Home had dished out to him Wally has also had the misfortune to meet the humans Home pulls into the show, though most of these humans were very violent when escaping home. They are the reason Wally's found out about what his insides look like and the fact he can bleed, most of the wounds have healed perfectly besides a few on his lower arms and hands. He has to be careful with them or the stitching will come out and he'll start bleeding again, not a pleasant sight. When it comes to Haunts Wally has only really ever heard of them like, the sounds they make and the sound of them moving around outside. From what Frank and Howdy have told him he's alright with just knowing them through sounds rather than what they look like. The main reason behind Wally having never seen Haunts before is because they hide when he's looking. Since they are human souls driven a bit mad they do have some memories intact, mainly of the entire neighborhood and the feelings attached to them. They feel disgusting and very anxious at the idea of Wally seeing them like they are currently[one reason why they are so hellbent on getting a body]. He's also noticed an odd scorched spiral marking on the basement floor but can't figure out how or why its there, tends to ignore it since it gives him an odd chilly sensation down his back.
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mvybanks · 5 months
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the deal — the one where you almost break up
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a/n: writing flangst just to feel something oh how i love being a woman😫 on a serious note, don’t kill me pls + this can be read as a stand-alone but it’s a post-series blurb from the deal !!! (i know this is longer than a blurb but we all know that i don’t care)
warnings: FLANGST!!!, rafe is mean, mentions of things that happened in the series, ward being a terrible parent, not proofread (will do it tomorrow🫡)
nav the deal masterlist
add yourself to my taglist <3
You and Rafe are in a fight.
Or at least what started out as just a fight.
It’s rare for either of you to be mad at the other, but he truly has crossed the line this time and you feel like your relationship is hanging by a thread now.
He had gone back home for a couple of days, that turned out to be a week, and although you didn’t know what was the reason, you didn’t think much of it, it was a habit of his and you believed that he only wished to see his sisters. However, when he came back, he wasn’t your Rafe. You couldn’t recognize the man that had walked inside your apartment and to be honest, you didn’t want to get to know him.
“Hey, baby!” You ran to him as he had opened the front door, for you had given him a key to your apartment.
If there’s one thing that he had always loved was being welcomed by your sweet embrace, engulfed by your comforting perfume and finally being able to relax against you. But that didn’t happen this time.
“Hey,” was all he said. No emotions behind it, no joy of seeing you again after an entire week, and that had already alarmed you. Hell, what had already made bells go off in your head had been the little to none contact when he was away.
You were only able to place your hands on his chest before he kept walking inside, ignoring you, while he reached the bathroom and left you at the entrance. Where was your boyfriend?
You went to lie on the couch and stayed there until he came back in the living room. You could tell something was wrong and you were unsure if you had done something to make him upset.
“How was your trip?” You only asked, not wanting to pry on his behavior immediately.
“I don’t feel like talking.” He coldly exclaimed, making your lips seal shut.
And so you remained in silence for what seemed an eternity. An uncomfortable silence; one that you had never experienced with Rafe and it was hurting not knowing what was going on.
Finally, you attempted at getting an answer, gently placing one hand on his shoulder as he sat next to you on the couch. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You inquired, worry laced in your voice.
“Nothing’s wrong. I told you I don’t feel like talking, Y/n, for fuck’s sake!” He groaned, shaking your hand off and breaking your heart in a million pieces as he did so. He got up from his seat, not even noticing the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes.
“Just tell me if it’s something I did. This isn’t you.” You whispered, heartbroken.
This isn’t you.
This isn’t you.
The words kept echoing in his ears. The same ones he had pronounced. He let out a humorless laugh, “What, you think you know who I am, then? This is me! Make your fucking peace with it.”
You also left the couch, anger running through your veins as your eyes were focused on the stranger in front of you. “No, I won’t make my fucking peace with it, Rafe! You left for a week, you avoided me, then you come here, in my apartment, and keep ignoring me. I think I deserve an explanation!”
“You know what? Yes, I left for a week and I wanted to come back to my loving girlfriend. Is she here by the way? Because she sure as hell isn’t in front of me now.” He raised his voice once again, his tone accusatory.
Shaking your head, you matched his tone. “Don’t you dare turn this on me! Jesus, Rafe! You’re acting as if you hate me. We haven’t talked for a week and you’re still ignoring me. You’re here and you still feel distant.” Although it went unnoticed by him, a tear ran down your cheek as you pronounced the last words, and even that felt like a punch in the stomach because nothing that you’ve ever done has gone unnoticed by his always attentive gaze. Not a day has gone by where you weren’t his sun and every star in the universe, where you weren’t the reason why to everything, to all of his breaths. And yet, you felt like this has been the first day.
“I’m here, Y/n! I’m fucking here, aren’t I?! Stop lying and bullshitting me with this stuff. God, is this what you always do, you lie to everyone until you find someone better? Huh?! Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Your whole world stopped. You felt like the ground beneath you had fallen and had brought you with it. You were gasping for air and felt lightheaded all at once as everything in you ached. How could have he thrown that in your face? Your ears were ringing and your voice broke as you murmured, “Get out.”
The thing is that Rafe had regretted what he had said immediately. The hated filled words had spilled from his venom-tainted lips, but it hadn’t been your fault. Nothing was ever your fault, because you were his universe — you still are and have never stopped, because his whole life revolves around you and he wouldn’t want it any other way. So, he only let out a whispered “What?” as he felt a pang in his chest.
“Get out of my house.” You repeated looking at the ground before you raised your head to stare at him, “Get the fuck out of my house!” You yelled then, pointing towards the door.
He took a step closer to you, “Wait —“
But you were quicker, putting even more space between you, “If that’s what you think of me, why don’t you just break up with me? If that’s how you feel, why are you still with me?”
“Baby —“
“Shut up. Just — Shut up! Get out of my house, I don’t wanna see you.” You raised your voice once again as tears ran freely down your face.
“ I —“ He kept attempting to say anything, to make it right, but you interrupted him each time for the sound of his voice wasn’t a comforting melody anymore, but the reason of your pain.
“I don’t wanna see you again. I don’t wanna hear your voice. Get. Out!” And that’s when you began to physically push him away. He couldn’t stop you, nor did he want to upset you further, therefore he left.
However, he could hear you crying from outside, he listened as you sobbed against the door and punched it. He wished he was able to come back inside and take you in his arms, to console you, but he knew he wasn’t who you wanted in that moment, indeed he was the last person you desired.
But he stayed.
He stayed outside until he listened to the sound of your steps taking you far away from the door; until his back and his legs hurt and he had to sit down; until his heart screamed for you, loudly, bleeding for the tears that he had caused you; until now.
Softly knocking, “Can I come in?” He tries to choke out, the lump in his throat now impossible to swallow. Guilt. That’s what it is.
You’re sitting on your bed, the door of your room showing you the entrance, and you can hear the muffled words coming from the other side, but you won’t give in. You listen to him, pleading for you to let him in, because he wants — no, he needs to know that you’re okay, for he hasn’t heard from you for over three hours.
So, yes. You and Rafe are in a fight, but you’re not sure if this is the end of your relationship as well.
What you’re not aware of is that he has the key sitting in the pocket of his jeans, and although he’s dying to use it, he wishes for you to open the door, for you to tell him that you can find it in your heart to forgive him, to just hear him out; but he knows he doesn’t deserve it. As time passes and the lack of answer continues, his fear increases. Are you okay? That’s all he keeps thinking about. Therefore, he decides to open the door, slowly walking inside while looking for you.
You don’t even raise your head when he comes in, you don’t give him the satisfaction of your attention. Once he enters your room, tears streaming down his face, he reaches his hand to gently cup your cheek, “Baby,” he whispers. But you’re quicker, instinctively running away from his touch. The action breaks him completely.
He falls on his knees, sitting in front of you, as he shows his raised hands to you. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, sweetheart.” He says quietly for the uncomfortable sensation in his throat doesn’t allow him to speak at a normal volume. “I didn’t mean it, please.” Rafe repeats once again before a long string of hushed ‘i’m sorry’s leaves his lips. Finally, he lets his head fall on your closed knees and his fingers delicately grab your calves while the never ending apologies make him sound like a broken record.
You can’t help but cry with him, although your gaze is still on the wall beside you, and yet you can feel the pain written on his features.
“My father was there.” He mumbles against your clothed skin.
“What?” The word leaves your lips but you don’t even realize what you’ve asked until he continues.
“My father was home. He never is when I go back home, but he was there this time.”
You‘ve learned about Rafe’s relationship with his father; he’s told you a lot — actually, he’s told you everything about it, because he wanted you to know him, and you do. You know him better than anyone else in the world. “He was mad. Said that I’m ungrateful for never showing up when he’s there and that this isn’t me. He just— he kept yelling, saying that I’m a piece of shit who deserves nothing. I don’t deserve his kindness, I don’t deserve my sisters, I… I don’t deserve you.” He murmurs the last words, which finally makes you look down at him.
Your heart is in a thousands of pieces as you softly ask, “Me?”
Rafe stares up at you and bloodshot eyes bore into yours. “You. He never stopped saying that, until I believed him. I know you deserve better, I’ve always known that, but I guess hearing this from someone else, out loud, it made it real. So, I pushed you away and I’m sorry. I’m not finding an excuse, I swear, I only want you to know that it’s not your fault and that I take full responsibility.”
In a moment of weakness, you let your hand faintly touch his jaw and your thumb brush against his cheek, causing him to rest his head further in your palm.
“I’m sorry about your father, Rafe, I really am, but what you said hurt me, and I didn’t think it was possible for you to ever cause me so much pain.”
Twisting his neck, he kisses the palm of your hand and tightly shuts his eyes. “I know. I know and I’m sorry. I will regret this for the rest of my life, but I promise you with everything I have, with every single cell of my body, that I will never do that again. And I know how this sounds, but if you just give me one more chance, I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I want to deserve you.” At last, he gets up and holds your face in his hands. “I love you so much, baby. So, so much.”
“The rest of your life, huh?” You playfully ask.
He lets out a wet chuckle. “The rest of my life, baby. You know I’m here for the long run.”
“You better act like it, then, Cameron.”
Rafe rests his forehead on yours, breathing you in and nodding his head at your words. “Can I kiss you?” He mumbles, his mouth almost touching yours.
“Please.”
Your lips connect to each other’s and it feels as if this is the first time you’ve been able to breathe in the past hours. He goes to sit next to you on the bed, never leaving your lips, before he grabs you and manhandles you until you’re sat on his lap. Rafe holds you impossibly close, scared that you’re going to leave as soon as he lets you go. However, unbeknownst to him, you could never leave him, not when he shows you how much he loves you over and over again, and especially not when you go to sleep in each other’s arms and the only thing that helps you sleep is the feeling of his skin and the sound of his voice, repeatedly whispering ‘i love you’s with his lips pressed against your head.
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taglist:
@gemofthenight @vigilanteshitposting @m-indkiller r @buckysdogtags s @yoonabeo @iruzias @babypoguelife @poppet05 @earth2starkey @palmwinemami i @marzipaanz @softherveauxs @sweetestdesire @guililove e @colbysbrocks @magnificantmermaid d @chaostudee @rafesmoon @fangirl-madz @canarysposts @screan @fishingirl12 @darleneslane e @mattyskies @rafecluver @pedrosprincess @jjmaybankisbae @em-dee @rentaldarling @houseofperfecttaste @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @michelle-26 @imawhoreforu @pankowperfection @buckyhad @kliness @sugarcoatedstarkey @starkeybae @lexi1sblog @starxsluv @wickedlovely121 @softlies @outerbankspov @littlefreaksatellite @aris-void @maybankslover @dogmomalsop @savage-aespa @emery-333 @camelliaflow3r @midnightsgetawaycar @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @wpdailyminimeta @cloismami i @madelynie @mskezza @chaeraq @kardamenaa @alexxavicry @strkeys @lovelornanonymity
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welcometomyoasis · 4 months
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02.08am | Kim Mingyu
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Synopsis: a drabble in which mingyu is a blanket hog and a snore monster (kind of a sequel to this blurb).  Mingyu x gn! reader | fluff | 1.28k words | no warnings A/n: written in the middle of the night because i couldn’t sleep. Not proof read. 
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Cold.
Cold?
Cold!!!
Why was it so cold?!?
When your brain finally registered that you were freezing, you were abruptly pulled out of your peaceful slumber. This was the fourth time this week you were rudely awakened, and it was only wednesday. With your eyes still closed, you reached out to pull your blanket up to your chin. But you were grabbing at nothing. Shivering and confused, you continued to pat the area surrounding your side of the bed. Alas, you felt nothing except the cool bed sheets against your fingertips. 
Groaning, you reluctantly opened your eyes. As you groggily looked around for where your blanket was, your eyes fell on a large lumpy blob on the bed next to you. 
You squinted at the blob, trying to make out what this horrifyingly large mound of fabric was doing on your bed. Since you were still sleepy, your brain was slow to process things. It didn’t occur to you what or more specifically who this blob could possibly be. You pensively raised a finger, poking the blob a few times. For all you know, this blob was some alien who decided to call your bed home.
It was only when the blob let out a whimper and a whine at your incessant poking that you realised this blob was your boyfriend wrapped up cozily within your shared blanket. Unconsciously, Mingyu had somehow managed to yank the blanket away from your body. If you weren’t so cold and feeling so sleep deprived, you were sure you would have laughed at how adorable Mingyu currently looked. 
Despite being such a large man, he managed to curl up up inside of the blanket in a fetal position, making him seem very tiny. Honestly? He looked like a baby being swaddled. His whole body was covered by the blanket with the exception of his face. His bottom lip jutted out a little. Even when he was asleep, Mingyu still wore a small pout on his face. But he looked so content. When your poking ceased, he snuggled deeper into the blanket cocoon he made from himself. He looked so warm, cozy, and toasty in that cocoon. 
Mmm yes, warmth. That was what you craved and needed so desperately. You felt your teeth start to chatter. So, while you felt a tiny pinch of guilt as you yanked the blanket over yourself (rather forcefully you might add), knowing that Mingyu might be woken up, you were seriously going to turn into an ice cube if you didn’t get warm soon. Besides, if Mingyu woke up, it was entirely his fault for being an insufferable loveable blanket hog. 
Fortunately, Mingyu remained fast asleep. That man could sleep through almost anything. In fact, as you uncurled the blanket, it seemed that you took him along with it. Mingyu’s limbs uncurled along with the blanket, his arm and leg now draped over you as well. 
You mentally shrugged your shoulders. This new situation wasn’t a completely unwelcome one. Mingyu was a huge cuddle bug so he usually had one or more of his appendages wrapped around your body. You were used to falling asleep in his embrace, likening the weight of his arm or leg across your body as a weird rip off weighted blanket. Of course, it also helped that Mingyu radiated warmth. He was practically a human heater which was perfect because you were still freezing. 
You sighed in contentment, scooting closer to Mingyu’s body that was currently radiating all the heat you could ever need. Resting your head against his chest, you closed your eyes, ready to fall back to sleep. 
For a while, it was peaceful. At this time of the night, it was quiet. Nothing could be heard except the whir of your air conditioner and the occasional car driving past your apartment building. Now, nicely warmed up, you started to drift off. 
Sadly, just as you were about to be pulled into sleep’s welcome embrace, you were yanked from sleep’s arms once again by a soft snore cutting through the silence of the night. You felt the rumble in Mingyu’s chest as he snored softly above you. You paid his snores no attention. Mingyu always snored anyway. 
But this time, Mingyu snored again. And again. And again. His snores getting progressively louder each time. Already sleep deprived and annoyed from the whole blanket ordeal, Mingyu’s snores were slowly getting on your nerves. He was breathing and snoring right above your head. To you, those sounds were grating as it felt like he was rattling your brain with his snores. 
Still, you gritted your teeth and tried to go back to sleep. Sadly, your determination to sleep could not help you overcome Mingyu’s snoring. 
Annoyed might be putting it lightly? But then again, you weren’t exactly annoyed at Mingyu’s unconscious actions though that did play a role in contributing to your foul mood. Instead, you were more disappointed and angry at yourself. Your patience was non-existent today. You were usually more tolerant of Mingyu’s snoring. Perhaps your nerves were just completely shot from having yet another abrupt awakening this week. 
Huffing, you wiggled your way out from under Mingyu’s embrace as gently as possible. You made your way to the kitchen to grab a warm drink to calm your nerves before opting to settle on the couch for the night. At least it was quiet here, and you could have the fluffy throw blanket all to yourself. Ahh this was the life, you thought, as you finally managed to doze off.
“Baby? Baby!” 
For the second time that night, and the fifth time this week, you were rudely shocked awake. This time however, you were being shaken gently by Mingyu. Although your eyes were still heavy from sleep, you pried them only to send a glare towards Mingyu for disturbing your slumber. 
However, as you narrowed your eyes on Mingyu, you saw that he was towering over your form, sulking and pouting like a kicked puppy. You swore you could almost see his non-existent puppy ears droop in sadness. You softened immediately, raising your hand up to pull Mingyu onto the couch next to you. 
Laying down next to you, Mingyu adjusted his body so he was the big spoon. He rested your head on one of his arms, and used his free hand to rub your back in a soothing, circular motion.
Mingyu’s lip quivered, “M’ sorry baby. I woke up and you weren’t there… then I came out and saw you on the couch. I did it again, didn't I?”
You hummed, too sleepy and comfortable to respond properly. 
“M’ sorry. I know this isn’t the first time this week. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
You shook your head lightly, mumbling incoherently something along the lines of “you worked so hard this week and were tired. Didn’t wanna disturb you.”
Mingyu gazed at you lovingly, though he was guilt-ridden that he disturbed your sleep, “I didn’t understand a word you said baby. But I think I know what you were trying to say. Thank you.”
When you didn’t respond, your form rising and falling rhythmically, Mingyu knew you fell asleep. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger on your skin a while longer. Mingyu snuggled closer to you, whispering, “You have no idea how much I love you. Rest well baby, see you when we wake up.” 
Then, he let his eyes flutter shut, falling asleep once again right there next to you on the couch.
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee
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railingsofsorrow · 8 months
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Recharging. . .
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)
w.c: 3.8K
warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.
A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.
loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home
want to read more works about this au?
→ day-off
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You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.
“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.
Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.
“We're visiting daddy!”
A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.
“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”
Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”
“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”
“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”
You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.
“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.
“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”
An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.
From “Spencer”:
[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.
[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.
This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.
It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.
You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.
You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.
“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.
To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”
[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...
You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.
Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.
Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.
Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.
You haven't seen your husband yet.
“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”
Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.
“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.
You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”
JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”
“Preach, Jayge.”
Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.
Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.
You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.
Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.
“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.
The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.
In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.
He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.
They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.
“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”
Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”
“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.
“Mr. Greenie.”
“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.
He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.
“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”
His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.
“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”
Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”
Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.
You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.
His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.
You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.
A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.
“Hey.”
Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.
Good thing your love language is physical touch.
“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.
Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.
“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.
He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.
At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.
“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.
Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.
“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.
The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”
The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.
Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.
“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”
That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.
“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”
Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.
“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”
“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”
“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.
“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”
“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.
You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.
It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.
“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”
Oh, kids.
Now it all made sense.
A shiver went down your spine at the thought.
“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.
“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.
“Spencer.”
“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”
You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.
“I wasn't fast enough.”
“It was not your fault.”
“You weren't there.”
You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.
“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.
“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.
“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”
Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.
That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.
“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”
His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.
“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”
Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.
“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”
Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.
“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”
You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.
“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”
Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.
“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”
She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.
Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?
The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.
Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.
“Thank you.”
Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.
“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.
“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”
You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.
“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.
“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”
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taglist: @lilyviolets
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A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.
2K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 6 months
Note
I need Bucky to blow my back out. 😮‍💨
Don't we all, nonnie?
You Asked for It
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 700 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Wet Wednesday blurb.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“I’d be better if Bucky blew my back out. How are you?”
You’re certain he doesn’t hear you say that in passing to Natasha after she asks how you’re doing, but super soldier hearing and whatnot. He smirks when he repeats the words in his head. The Sergeant may be an old man, but he isn’t that out of touch. He knows enough that you need him to pound your pussy and fill you to the brim. Fuck you so hard and so good that you won’t be able to close your legs or walk by the time he’s done with you.
Dirty girl.
He takes it as a compliment that you need his cock to have a better day and he’s more than happy to take advantage of that. And why wouldn’t you want him? You both know you have a greedy cunt and find any excuse under the sun for him to be inside you, your body always wet and ready even when he doesn’t stretch you out.
Not that he’s complaining. He’s shocked he doesn’t have a permanent hard-on with you around. Your pussy is the gateway to heaven, miliking him for all he’s worth. Because isn’t it a form of worship to paint your wet and quivering walls with his seed?
So later once he has you in his bed where you belong, he spends a minute just looking at your twitching hole as he spreads your glistening folds. His cock throbs and he doesn’t waste time making you beg. Instead of splitting you open the way he wants to, he slowly and deliberately slides into you inch by inch. You welcome him home with whimpers and sighs.
He wants to fuck you until you cry how much you love him.
But he doesn’t move once his hips are flush with yours, giving you a smirk at your dazed and confused stare.
“You know,” he begins, tracing a wet finger along your cheek as you try to wiggle your hips. “If you wanted me to pound your sweet little pussy so bad, all you had to do was say so.”
You narrow your eyes and purposely clench around him, almost hard enough to make him throw his head back. “Then do it, Barnes.”
He feels all too smug when he pulls out and thrusts back in with enough force to make you jerk underneath him. “Should’ve put that pretty mouth of yours to good use first, but we have time for that later.”
For now, he gets to work.
It’s like time stands still when he pins you down and makes you take every single thrust. He can’t help but lean down to bite your bottom lip, wanting you lost in pleasure. “So fucking wet. Making a mess all over me. Fuck, you take me so well,” he praises, his gaze leaving your face only for a moment to watch your tits move.
Yeah, I'm fucking those later.
“Please,” you moan, trying to raise your hips to meet his. “Fuck me.”
“I am fucking you,” he groans, plunging himself deeper.
“Harder,” you beg.
You asked for it.
Minutes may pass. Maybe hours. But broken moans leave your lips as your pussy keeps opening up and taking Bucky in. Just like it was made to.
“Fuck, baby, I almost forgot what a slut you are for my dick,” he grunts before your eyes flash. You’re not quite cock drunk yet and he only chuckles when he thrusts harder, making your pretty eyes roll back. “Not just a slut. My slut.”
“Your slut,” you moan.
He glances down and watches how you swallow every inch of him. “Fuck yeah, you are. And you’re gonna take every fucking drop of me after you come,” he grunts. That has you moaning before he even gets a thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles just the way you like it. He knows you’re on the verge of a powerful orgasm and wants it to consume you. “Come. Don’t you fucking hold back.”
He feels your release coat his cock as you scream his name, almost triggering his own as he tells you what a good fucking girl you are. But he’s not done yet. Not by a long shot.
He’ll blow your back out before the night is over.
And if you’re lucky, he’ll put a baby in you, too.
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Um. Sorry? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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libraryofloveletters · 6 months
Text
Gimme A Smooch
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Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: lover boy max, he's pretending to be annoyed but he loveessss the attention, reader nearly has a heart attack, jimmy and sassy cameo, cheesiness from max
Word Count: 669
Author's Note: everyone writes max so aggressive but he deserves a soft blurb because he's a lover boy.
--
He was never one to indulge in things like mistletoe but since he begun to date you, he didn’t have much of a choice. 
When the holidays rolled around, you tended to get a bit unhinged.
You went all out when it came to decorating and Max let you do your thing because the less he has to do, the better. If he was single, he would have hired someone to do it or just not do it all together.
He did suggest hiring someone and you looked at him as if you were ready to bite off his head. You ask if he's insane and tell him that you'd do it, no one else is going to decorate as long as you were there.
Max left you to do your thing, he had gone up to the Red Bull factory for the weekend, they were holding some sort of holiday party for their staff at the factory.
When he returns home, he barely gets to put his key into the lock before the door opens.
"You owe me a kiss." You tell him, hands on your hips.
Max's brows furrow, looking at you a bit confused. "Hello to you too, babe."
You point above him, Max's head tilts back and her looks up to see the bundle of mistletoe you've hung from the front door. He smiles, his arms snaking around your waist, giving you a kiss. You smiled, smoothing over his jacket, "welcome home."
Max gives you another quick kiss, walking into the house. He had left before you put anything up but now it was completely different; you had rearranged the furniture to make space for a massive Christmas tree and you had decorated from top to bottom, ornaments, garlands, decorative throw pillows, you even went as far as to change the curtains.
He didn't miss the mistletoe hanging above each doorway. "What's this about?" He asks, pointing to the bundle of greenery.
You pull him to the arch leaving into the living room, kissing him once again. "That," you smiled.
He rolled his eyes playfully, letting you drag him through the house, stopping under every bundle of mistletoe for a kiss.
"Does this mean you're gonna stop me all day and give me a kiss every time?" He looked at you, your arms wrapped around his waist as you looked up at him, nodding. "Absolutely."
"As much as I'd love that, I have to do this simulator for Christian."
"Oh boo, doesn't this man take a break? It is the holidays, you know." You groaned, forehead pressed to Max's chest.
He cups your jaw, pulling you to look at him. "I won't be long, just this one last thing."
"Fine," you let him go, Max kissed your head before heading up to the room with his simulator.
It was just a little over an hour when you heard the shouting. "Y/n! Y/n!" Your boyfriend shouts at the top of his lungs.
You find yourself rushing up the stairs, nearly tripping. "What?!" You looked around, "what's wrong?!"
He shook his head, pointing to the two cats curled up next to each other in the corner of the doorway. Jimmy and Sassy seemed to have missed their daddy, curling up in his simulator room as he worked.
You smiled but smacked Max's arm. "You gave me a heart attack!" Max laughs, his arm around your waist as he pulls you to him. "Sorry baby, let me make it up to you hm?"
"I'm listening," you look at him and there's a wicked smile on his face, pulling you flush to him for a breathtaking kiss.
Your hand rests on his cheek when he lets you go, head spinning as you look at the man. "What.. wow." You giggled and Max smiled, kissing you once more but softly this time.
"What brought that on?" You asked.
Max points above the two of you and you look up to see a bundle of mistletoe you know you didn't put up there.
"What happened to not liking it?" You asked him with a raised brow.
He smiles, "never said that, did I?"
1K notes · View notes
scuderiahoney · 6 months
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*word counts next to fic titles!*
all works written and owned by me. please do not repost these works to other websites, or copy them in any way. thank you!
OP81
In Motion - in progress Hockey AU Series Oscar’s a certified hockey prodigy, and the new kid on the block. You’re the adopted best friend of his new hockey team. You take it upon yourself to make him feel welcome. What could possibly go wrong?
Take Care- 7.4k feat. Lando Norris! You, Lando, and Oscar are roommates. The three of you promise to take care of each other. It takes you all far too long to admit just how much you mean it.
Color Theory- 6.6k 18+ mdni! Oscar’s an old friend of yours. This time when he comes home to visit, things get messy.
Ache- 1.9k 18+ mdni! Leaving you behind makes Oscar’s chest hurt. Sometimes coming home is just as hard.
Be Brave- 5.2k You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.
In From The Rain- 7.1k Oscar’s looking for an easy to care for houseplant. You have just the solution.
Stick Around- 4.1 k You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.
Tangerine- 6.8k You’re definitely not an insomniac. But Oscar keeps finding you awake at all hours, and he’s starting to get worried.
tangerine series masterlist
CL16
Every Second - 2.6k The world is ending. you’re right where you belong.
All You Got - 5.4k You hate Charles Leclerc. The feeling is mutual. He’s made that clear from the very beginning. (driver reader, enemies to friends to lovers)
After All- 3.6k Charles Leclerc is your best friend. According to everyone who’s ever seen the two of you together, he’s also madly in love with you.
MV33
Always Walk Me Home- 4.3k You and Max are keeping things casual. Sooo casual. You can be casual. Right?
🍓 can be read as standalone, but for more parts in this universe, check out Strawberry Wine!
Pick You Up- 6.7k When Max has one too many gin & tonics, you’re the one who picks (him) up, every time he calls.
DR3
Blackbird- 10.1k You’re a bartender at a mountain lodge. When Danny shows up, you’re determined to keep your distance. It doesn’t really go to plan.
Sweet Like Grenadine- 5.6k You love weddings. However, you don’t love being stuck by yourself at a wedding, a plus one to a boyfriend who’s too busy for you. Enter Daniel Ricciardo, your knight in shining armor.
LN4
Puzzle Piece - 3.6k You’re always drawn to Lando. He’s always happy to have you near him. Finally, the pieces might just click into place.
Take Care- 7.4k feat. Oscar Piastri! You, Lando, and Oscar are roommates. The three of you promise to take care of each other. It takes you all far too long to admit just how much you mean it.
Blurbs:
I Want Your Midnights // NYE Blurb Drop
1k Celebration Blurbs
1K notes · View notes
Text
Saffy Lemur's Call of Duty Masterlist
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Last updated: 20.12.2023
A/N: Per a few requests, I’ve redone my masterlist to make it easier to navigate the fic categories 💕😊 Original Masterlist
💕💕💕Welcome!!!!💕💕💕
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Simon "Ghost” Riley-
Smut Blurbs
Simon Exploring Choking Kink
Simon And Throat F*cking
Soap And Ghost Threesome
Using Simon To Get Off
Reunion Sex With Simon
Simon Realizing He Has A Daddy Kink
Simon With A Breeding Kink
Late Nights
You're a Minx, You Know That?
You're Mine
Crying During Sex With Simon Riley
Simon And Yours First Time Having Sex
Simon Riley Doesn't Fuck You, He Worships You
Simon's C*ck Being Nearly Too Big For You
Simon And Jealous Sex
Simon Loving The Sight Of You Being F*cked By Him
Simon Letting You Use Him To Forget About Your Bad Day
Simon Sharing You With Johnny
Simon Is a Giver In Bed
Angst Blurbs
You Can't Leave Me
Dreams
I've Got You, Kid
Simon Wanting To Break Up With You Because He Thinks You Deserve Better
Simon Can't Sleep Alone Without You After A Fight
Simon Having A Nightmare About Losing You
Simon Pushing You Away After A Night Together
Fluff Blurbs
Simon telling you he loves you for the first time
Simon Attempting To Cook For Date Night
Simon Riley Showing You His Face For The First Time
Simon Realizing He Has Fallen For You
Simon's Love Language
Simon Coming Home For Good
"I Do"
Asking Simon What His Biggest Regret Is With You
Simon Loves His Wedding Band
Simon Riley And His Kisses
Simon Excited To Call You After A Long Day
Simon Seeing His Family's First Holiday Ornament
Simon Coming Home To You
First Date With Simon
Simon Waking Up Next To You
Simon Comforting You During A Funk
Simon Telling You He Loves You For The First Time
Wanting Simon's Attention While He's Working
Simon Being Scared to Love You
Dad! Simon Blurbs
Simon's Daughter Introducing Him To Her Class
Simon And His Daughter At The Park
Simon's soft moment with his baby girl
Simon's Daughter and Wife Welcoming Him Home On The Tarmac After A Mission
Simon Doing His Daughter's Hair For The First Time
Simon And His Daughter Who Had A Nightmare
Simon Introducing 141 To His Family
Simon Meeting His Newborn For The First Time
Random One- Shots
Soap, The Matchmaker
I'll Take the Big Blue One!
Innate Desire to Protect
Innate Desire to Protect Part 2
Teach Me How To Ride?
Date With Your Lieutenant
Words of Wisdom
What's Your Favorite Color? (Part 2 to Words of Wisdom)
Simon's Bundle of Joy
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141 Boys and Others Multi- Character Fics
Smut
141 + König & Alejandro With Reader Surprising Them With Lingerie
141 + König x Fem! Reader Going Down On Them
141 + König & Alejandro Eating Their Fem! Partner Out
141 + König Breaking their GN! Partners Bed
141 + König With Fem!Reader Riding Them
141 + König + LV Cumming Too Quick
141 + König Where Reader Asks Them For A Baby
141 + König Where They Hurt The Reader During Sex
141 + König Where The Reader Squirts For The First Time
141 + König Where Reader Accidentally Calls Them Daddy In Bed
Losing Your Virginity To 141 + König
141 + LV & König Begging Fem! Reader to Sit On Their Face
Giving 141 Boys Roadhead
Fluff
141 + König With Reader Who is a Major Cuddlebug
141 + LV & König x Reader, Where You Don't Say I Love You Back
141 + König x Reader's First Kiss
141 + König x GN Reader When You Slap/Grab Their Ass Playfully
141 + Konig Telling the Reader They Love Them for The First Time
141 + König & Alejandro With A GN! Reader Who Dodges a Kiss
141 + König Where The Reader Wipes Off Their Kiss
Catching 141 + König By Surprise With A Kiss
Angst
141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation
141 + König Where Fem! Reader Gets Jealous/Insecure
141 + König Reacting To Reader Having A Breakdown From Past Trauma
141 + König Rejecting Reader, Then Regretting It
141 + König Telling Reader They Hate Them In An Arguement
141 + König Crying In Front Of Reader For First Time
Headcannons
141+ Alejandro, Rudy, and Konig w/ Pregnant Reader Headcannons
141 + Königs Favorite Positions / How They Enjoy Sex HC's
141 + König Fluff Headcannons
Other
Ghost/Soap/König's Reaction to Reader Pouring Salt in Their Coffee
How the 141 Boys + König react to the reader getting an epidural
141 + König with a Reader Who Sneezes are Loud as Shit
141 + König Where The Reader Finds Out She's Having Twins
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As always, my inbox is always open for requests/questions/feedback! :)
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runnning-outof-time · 4 months
Text
Change His Ways | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: no
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Summary: In which Tommy falls for a woman out of his reach and does whatever it takes to get closer to her.
Warnings: Tommy’s certainly not canon here, language, smoking, religious themes (Tommy goes to church)
Word Count: 4025
A/N: I dusted this WIP off because I was itching to keep writing after I finished my celebration blurbs. The idea has Tommy ooc, but it was one that I just had to write down while reading a book - I’ll share a bit more about it down below for those who are interested (it’s based on a true story). Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in stories similar to this one!
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Tommy's world stopped the second he saw her. She was in Polly's main room, gathering her cleaning supplies as he stepped into the home. He watched from the doorway as she tried, but failed, to take them all into her arms, the bucket and broom falling to the ground. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Gray," she quickly apologized to the woman standing next to the fireplace for the commotion, crouching down to - try and - gather it once more. Polly didn't say anything, only watching on as the younger woman struggled.
"Let me help you, miss," Tommy spoke up, balancing the cigarette he was smoking between his lips before he stepped over to her, leaning down to grab the stick of the broom before she could.
"Oh, thank you, mister," she smiled over at him, her (y/e/c) eyes instantly mesmerizing Tommy. He almost forgot what he was doing.
"Where do these need to go?" he asked after clearing his throat and pulling himself from his thoughts.
"Just outside. My father's picking me up," she responded, smiling over at him gratefully. He felt like she had knocked the wind out of him.
"Alright then," he nodded, standing in time with her and taking a bucket from her full hands so that she'd have less to carry. He then let her lead him out to where an older looking farm-typed truck was waiting. The man sitting in the driver's seat just glared at Tommy, who ignored his presence altogether. "Should be it," he remarked as he sat the broom and bucket into the back of the truck.
"Thank you, really," the woman smiled at him.
"You're welcome," Tommy nodded politely before she got in the truck and he walked back up the path to his aunt's house. Polly was standing in the entryway with her arms crossed when Tommy re-entered the house. "What, Pol?" he questioned, brushing past her into the main room.
"She's a good woman, Thomas," she heeded a warning. A warning that Tommy disregarded completely.
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Tommy showed up at Polly's every day for a week until he figured out what times the unnamed, beautiful woman was present at the house. And each time she was, he would help her with the things that she needed to carry out to her father's truck.
He didn't quite get to his destination today because the very person he was looking forward to seeing was walking along the sidewalk about three blocks from his aunt's house. He slowed down his car with his brow furrowed, and bent his head down to look at her. "All ok?" he asked after he watched her take a few more struggled steps. "Your father coming to pick you up?"
"Not today," she shook her head, the tone of her voice showing how much she was struggling to keep everything in her arms. "He's been held up at the farm."
Tommy was out of his car the second he heard her answer. He walked around the side of it with a quickened pace before he took the bigger cleaning supplies from her arms. "I can take you home," he offered, already opening the back door of his car before she gave him an answer to set the supplies he'd taken inside.
"Oh I can't bother you like that," she tried to decline his offer politely, but Tommy didn't want to hear it.
"I insist," he stressed, his eyebrows raised slightly to show his seriousness. He held his eyes on her and saw her weary expression form into a smile. She nodded her head in agreement before he opened the passenger's side door for her to get into the car. Once she was in, he shut the door and walked back around to the driver's side.
"Do you have a name, sir?" she asked him almost immediately after he'd sat in the front seat, "because I feel like I should know the name of the man that has so kindly offered me a ride."
"It's Thomas Shelby," he said, clearing his throat before adding: "you can call me Tommy though."
The woman smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, officially, Tommy. Thank you for driving me home," she spoke politely. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," she added, her cheeks heating up slightly when she realized that she hadn't formally introduced herself to him.
"It's nice to officially meet you as well, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but smile as he tried her name out for himself, "and there's no need to thank me...the pleasure's all mine here," he concluded his sentence by turning his car back on and pulling away from the sidewalk so that he could take her home.
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There was an older man leaning up against the side of a rusted farm truck as Tommy pulled into the driveway that (Y/N) said was hers. He looked rather intimidating standing there, and if Tommy wasn't in the line of work that he was, he definitely would have been put off by him.
"Hi, daddy," (Y/N) smiled as she got out of the car so that she could grab her supplies from the back. She was too slow, however, because Tommy already had it in his hands.
"Where do you want this?" he asked her.
"Just by the shed over there," she answered as she motioned to said shed, "I can place them where they need to go later." Tommy nodded and then walked the short distance so that he could rest the supplies against the wall of the shed. "Thank you, Tommy," she sent him a bright smile once he'd finished.
"You're welcome," he nodded, deciding that being paid in her smiles would be better than any lump sum of money he could ever receive.
"You Thomas Shelby?" (Y/N)'s father then came into the situation, his voice making Tommy's expression go serious as he turned to face the older man.
"I am," he nodded, extending his hand.
"What are your intentions with my daughter?" her father got right to the point, glancing at the hand but not shaking it.
Tommy found himself feeling like a young boy again, and it made him wonder just how interested he was in (Y/N) for him to be feeling like this. "I brought her home. She was struggling with carrying the supplies," he explained himself.
The older man looked Tommy up and down before nodding slightly. "Ok," was all he said before he turned and started to walk over to one of the barns on the property.
"Thank you, Tommy," (Y/N) sent him another smile, pulling him out of the confused stupor that was brought on by the previous conversation. "I hope you make it home safely."
"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he responded, loving how her name sounded coming from his mouth. He then returned her wave before he walked to his car and got into it, backing down the driveway and away from the beautiful woman who was standing and watching him leave.
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"I think you're a bloody idiot for coming up with that idea," Polly spoke her mind after Tommy had finished explaining to her where he'd gone a few days ago.
"That's why I'm doing it properly," Tommy tried to work a different angle.
"Properly or not, the (Y/L/N)'s are a God-fearing family, and I can't remember the last time you stepped into a church with the intent of speaking to the Maker," she remarked, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. Tommy sighed in response, shaking his head as he brought the cigarette back up to his mouth. He and Polly then stared at each other for a few moments before the woman sighed and hung her head, "but you'll still give it a try anyway," she stated in defeat, knowing just by his glance alone that her nephew's mind was made up.
Tommy cleared his throat as he stood from the chair in Polly's living room. He grabbed his coat and pulled it over his shoulders so that he was ready to leave the house. Polly tried to call after him, but he wasn't listening to her words as he opened the door and exited the dwelling. After getting in the car and starting its engine, he began driving to (Y/N)'s house with the full intention of winning her father over.
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"You cannot court my daughter," (Y/N)'s father spoke firmly from where he sat across from Tommy in the front room.
"She's a very lovely woman, and I will be a gentleman to her," he tried to sway the older man, laying on the Shelby charm in full force, "all I am asking is for a date with her." If only his family could hear him now.
"If you want to see my daughter, you'll see her at church," her father decided, nodding his head once to show his decision was final.
"Mr. (Y/L/N)..."
"Save it, Shelby," the older man cut Tommy off, standing to leave the conversation. Tommy watched him walk, knowing there was nothing more that could be done. He also stood, showing himself out. He looked to the farmhouse after opening the door to his car and saw (Y/N) standing in one of the second floor windows. A sigh escaped his lips. He knew what to do.
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Tommy met the (Y/L/N)'s at their church that Sunday. No one bothered to question how he knew where they worshiped, and he was thankful that he didn't need to explain.
They all sat in the same pew, Tommy to the right of (Y/N), of course, while her father sat on her left. He didn't listen much to the sermons, or participate in singing along with the choir.
He did, however, try to get even closer to (Y/N). After a few glances down, he slowly inched his hand closer to her lap. At first he attempted to take hold of her hand. She moved it away the second she felt his fingers brush hers. But she didn't look his way though, still focused on what the preacher was saying. So he let his hand stay there. Instead of holding hers, he flipped his palm down and draped his fingers over the curve of her thigh.
His hand had just started to warm from her body heat when he felt a sharp, but silent, smack land on the back of it. It made him remove his hand and quickly look her way. She was still looking straight ahead. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his brows furrowed. He was sure that he hadn't imagined that; she'd just smacked him.
The feeling of his eyes on her made (Y/N) glance to her right. She knew he wouldn't look away until he addressed her. But her father would instantly know that her attention had been taken off of the message being told. Ever-so-slowly, she leaned closer to Tommy, getting close enough so that he could hear her whisper. "There should be no touching in the Lord's house. It's considered blasphemy."
Tommy couldn't respond because she sat straight again the second she finished speaking. He took one last look at her before looking straight again, his hand resting on his thigh once again.
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Tommy continued going to church with (Y/N) and her family every Sunday, and eventually they got into a routine of him walking her back home.
Every Sunday, they'd stop at the beginning of her dirt driveway, and she'd thank him with a kiss on his cheek. They'd then say their goodbyes and she'd begin walking to her house. Tommy would stay and watch, waiting until she was on her porch before he left.
This Sunday was different. (Y/N) was unusually quiet on the way home. The walk that was normally filled with her sweet laughter and entertaining stories was now overruled by silence.
They stopped at the end of her driveway, and (Y/N) turned so that she could face him. Tommy's eyes were immediately on her, and he noticed that she was looking at the ground. "I won't be in church next Sunday," she finally spoke, playing with her fingers in hopes it'd give her something to focus on. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes then, seeing that he was looking out at the fields for a moment. Thinking now'd be the best time to say goodbye, she lifted her head and leaned in to press her lips to his cheek.
Tommy turned to talk to her at that same moment, and he was met with the most rewarding accident he'd ever been given in his life when his lips met hers. The kiss was soft, quick, and innocent. Too quick for his liking.
(Y/N) pulled back with a gasp the second she realized what was happening. She looked at him then, her eyes now opened wide; looking as if she'd just seen a ghost, or a horrible crime be committed. I've fucked this up, Tommy thought to himself, the breath caught in his throat. The worst part about it was that he didn't quite know what to say that could make the situation better.
So he just stared at (Y/N), watching as her eyes searched his for what seemed like eternity. Then, after what felt like forever, (Y/N) leaned in and pressed her lips to his again. She kissed him more soundly this time, and he took hold of her waist to make sure that she wouldn't leave him too soon. When she eventually moved to pull back, he let her, keeping his eyes closed when she stayed close and rested her forehead against his.
"Why?" he asked once their breathing had returned to normal.
"Huh?" she was clearly confused by his sudden question, and she finally pulled back to look at him once more, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Why won't you be there, love?" he asked with a soft laugh, squeezing her waist softly as he remembered that he was still holding onto her.
Realization struck her and her confusion melted into a sheepish smile, remembering what they were talking about before the kiss happened. "My family and I are traveling to see my grandparents. We'll go to the service at their church since we'll be staying through the weekend," she explained the reason behind her initial statement.
"Should I find you there?" he asked her then, wondering if he could still make things work. He'd been seeing her every Sunday for a month and a half now, and he'd be lying if he said that he didn't look forward to it every week.
"There's no need for that, Tommy," she giggled, her stomach filling with butterflies at the sweetness of his voice. "I'll be home before you know it."
"Then I'll be waiting," he nodded, showing his sincerity as he squeezed her waist once more, his actions making her smile. His eyes flitted down to her lips then, their closeness and inviting nature becoming paramount in his mind again. "Can I?" he asked permission before doing anything, something he never could have imagined himself doing weeks ago.
"Please do," she smiled at him, her hands finding his collar as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers once more.
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"Fuck," Tommy huffed, pressing his fingers to his eyes in frustration.
"So what do we do, Tom?" Arthur asked his brother, clasping his peaked cap in his hands. "He's there. He's for the taking. We could just..."
"No," Tommy cut him off abruptly, leaning forward so that he could rest his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands, "no, there'll be problems if we do that."
"Then what?" John chimed in, a bit of an incredulous look present on his face. "We know he did it. He shouldn't get to even think he got away with it."
"We do it another way," Tommy insisted.
"What way?" Arthur asked.
"I don't know yet," Tommy huffed, finally looking at his brothers before he continued, "but you fuckers better not try anything." He accented his direction by pointing at each of the two men as he spoke, his eyes wide to convey his seriousness.
Silence fell in the room then. John and Arthur shared a look before focusing back on their brother. They were both thinking the same thing...but who was going to be the one to say it?
Arthur looked to John again. "Seems like our brother's gotten himself a new perspective," he commented aloud, seeing Tommy's eyes snap to him from the corner of his.
A grin formed on John's face as he heard his older brother speak. Arthur was the one to cast the first stone. Now the floor was wide open. "I think it's because he's been going to that bloody church each weekend," he shared his thoughts on the situation.
Arthur shook his head. "Nah. The only reason he's going there is so he can give that girl a quick shag. You think it'll be worth it, Tom?"
Tommy was now seeing red. "What the fuck are you two going on about? Eh?!"
"That girl from Pol's place. (Y/N), was it?" John answered, even though the previous question was meant to be rhetorical.
"Yeah, yeah. That's her name. She's real pretty," Arthur commented, a smug grin now present.
Tommy couldn't take the comments anymore. He slammed his hand down on the desk, commanding their attention immediately. "Enough!" he bellowed, his eyes wide with anger. "You're not going to talk about her like that. In fact, you're not going fucking to talk about her at all. Understood?" He let out a heavy breath then, looking between the two of them before he swiped at his hair, returning the strands that had fallen over his forehead back to their resting place.
Neither John nor Arthur responded verbally to their brother's statement. Arthur let out a grunt of agreement and John merely nodded, both surprised by the show of emotion they'd just witnessed.
Tommy nodded in response to the silence. "Good. Now go out and figure out how we can get this guy. We need to do it cleanly," he gave them an order, one that made the two of them nod before turning and heading to the door.
John exited without another word, but Arthur stopped with his hand on the door's handle. He looked back to his brother, who had both of his palms placed flat on the desk as he finished recollecting himself.
"She really means something to you, doesn't she?" he broke the silence hanging in the room. His question made Tommy look up. They held eye contact for a few moments. Not a word was said. Arthur got his answer though; he could see it in Tommy's eyes. So instead of prolonging the staring contest, he nodded and exited the office.
Tommy let out a huff as the door shut, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the chair. (Y/N) came to mind then, and he relished in the thought of her as it made his stresses wash away.
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Tommy just happened to be sitting out on the floor of the betting shop when the most out of place looking person entered the building. He clocked the man speaking to Scudboat and continued working on the papers in front of him as he tried to listen into the conversation.
"Is Mr. Shelby in?"
"He's busy. You'll need an appointment. That can be arranged with his..."
"I just need to speak to him for a moment."
"You'll need to arrange an..."
"He's fine to speak with me, Scudboat," Tommy cut into the conversation, coming over to where he and (Y/N)'s father were standing by the door.
"Yes, Mr. Shelby," Scudboat bowed his head as he left the conversation, knowing he was no longer needed.
"What can I do for you, Mr. (Y/L/N)?" Tommy asked (Y/N)'s father then, his eyes trained on the man who still looked so out of place.
"I'm not here to spend any money," the older man quickly replied, a rather sour look present on his face.
"I never thought you were," Tommy responded, hoping that his level voice would ease the other man's inhibitions. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked then, his brows furrowing as a feeling of worry washed over him.
Mr. (Y/L/N) looked around the room for a moment before his eyes found Tommy's again. "Can we speak somewhere more private?" he requested, the inflection of his voice not giving Tommy any concrete answer to his question. He hated that.
"We can," the gangster nodded, then moving towards one of the private offices - a little too quickly for his liking. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked again once the two men were behind the closed door.
(Y/N)'s father sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head every so slightly before he began speaking, "I know what you do...and I know that it's not right, nor good..." he started, his eyes darting around the room so he wouldn't have to hold Tommy's stare. "But I've seen you with my daughter, how you've tried to open up and let God into your life..." he paused again, taking another deep breath. Tommy wished he'd say what he needed to already. "She sees something in you that I can not, Mr. Shelby, and I hope that you see something in her that goes beyond physical desire."
"Way beyond, Mr. (Y/L/N)," Tommy was quick to tell him, "she's...she's changed me in ways I'd not thought possible."
"Good," the older man nodded, looking pleased with the response he'd gotten. Silence hung in the air then, and both men stared at each other. It was almost like one was waiting for the other to crack; for the other shoe to fall. Mr. (Y/L/N) was the one to speak first. "You have my blessing. You can court my daughter."
Tommy exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding upon hearing the other man's statement. He immediately extended his hand. "Thank you, Mr. (Y/L/N)."
"Treat her well, Thomas," her father sternly said, accepting the handshake Tommy had offered.
"I will."
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Tommy and (Y/N) arrived at the road to (Y/N)'s home, and (Y/N) turned to face him like she always did. She smiled at him, sweetly thanking him for walking her home from church. Tommy smiled at her, tipping his hat and making her giggle - like he usually did. (Y/N) then leaned in and pressed her lips to his, giving him the quick kiss that she'd always leave him with. This time, however, Tommy's hands found her waist and he held her close to him when she pulled away.
"Be mine," he whispered against her lips, pulling back slightly so that his eyes could find hers.
"Tommy," (Y/N) breathed in response to his statement, "my father..."
"He gave me his blessing," he assured her, "will you be mine, (Y/N)?" he asked this time.
A smile spread across (Y/N)'s lips as butterflies erupted in her stomach. This is what she'd been waiting for. Everyone had told her that Tommy Shelby was a man who was to be feared, but that was not the Tommy Shelby that she had the pleasure to know; to get close to. And now he was asking her the question she'd hoped he'd ask ever since the first kiss they shared.
"Yes, Tommy," she answered with a slight nod, excitement bubbling up inside of her, "yes, I'll be yours."
Her words made a smile form on Tommy's face, and instead of saying anything in response, he leaned in and kissed her, showing her how happy he was to hear her answer through the passion he put into the kiss. She was the only person who'd get him to change his ways...and now she was his.
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**a little bit about the background: this was based off of a vignette that I read in a book about America in WWI — a man, who was rather rowdy, into no good things, took interest in a woman, and the woman’s father told him that the only way he’d get to court her is if he came to church. The man essentially changed his lifestyle around for her because he was so interested in her and they eventually got married — so just like Tommy, he got the girl.
———
Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife
MASTERLIST
854 notes · View notes
faetreides · 16 days
Note
pwetty please more dom art, switch patrick, sub reader. that blurb was so so good i think “Go ahead and make daddy cum while I give him kisses, ‘kay?” may be the hottest thing anyone has ever said ever actually
# 🫀HONEST HEARTS 🪤 !!
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cw: WEIRD VIBES, dom art switch patrick sub reader coded, heavy on the art x patrick, breeding kink/pregnancy/ambiguous baby trapping (???), art’s lowkey mean, daddy kink (referring to patrick), patrick calls you a slut, oral (afab reader receiving), patrick’s sandwiched in between you & art, anal sex (m receiving), summer heat will have you displaying behaviors and acting in ways, ambiguous era, feminization (one use of “mama” not in a mommy kink way), stream of consciousness style writing, they’re gross but so are you, reader having a hamlet holding up the skull moment
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Art fucks Patrick like a bat out of hell, you lie beneath them wet and wanting as you watch patrick’s sweaty body flail around like a ragdoll. Art squishes your bodies together, pressing his weight against Patrick's back. There’s so much pressure on your lungs, you’re scared you’ll pop. The humid July air is so thick around you that the plush bedding feels swathed in a soft old film yellow tint, you and Patrick swap glassy eyes when his tip finally sinks into your tight ass. No lube in sight, you want pain that only skinny dipping in a private river after dark will fix. Reminders of youth, the sting from the current as it travels through the indents of teeth.
You would think Art had become a ferocious shark, inky pupils dripping onto Patrick's shoulder blades and toothy grins, feral and lead only by his cock at the first scent of blood he could catch. yours, Patrick’s, his. Patrick fucks your ass to the point of no return, his pace never ceasing until all you is the word “Daddy” howled out over and over. Every thrust earns art deeper inside of him, Patrick greedily rolls his hips back. In appreciation Art leans down and watches his spit highlight how cock drunk the two of you are, a see through trail trickling down both of your faces onto the pillow.
It’s like Art doesn’t have any worth until he’s fucking you and Patrick out of your minds at the same time. He hooks his chin in Patrick’s shoulder, winking down at you as he ramps up the speed of his thrusts. Patrick’s eyes tighten in pleasure-pain but any sounds he has to offer are muffled in the seams of your slick lips, you open your mouth to catch them and hoard them all. Breathy pants and whines and growls becuase Patrick may be the one getting fucked the most, but you should never forget who’s next in line to benefit from this little symbiotic expression of your relationship. You’re the atlar, solid foundation and the center of life’s devotion. Art and Patrick are the attendants, bringing you animal sacrifices in the form of their flesh and soul and hearts. In their bones and in the nerves connecting to their brain, where you all exist in an undefiled state even as fluids are spilt in between the cracks in the marble. A poor man’s kintsugi.
Patrick begs Art to cum, but you defer to Patrick when it’s your time to be a babbling brook around his thick length. Art always says yes when the other man’s balls deep in you, plus he has dibs on your pussy this week. It’s in their nature, to desire each other carnally and still keep each other entangled in steep competition even when those desires are fulfilled in excess. Art really wants a baby, you’ve been too gung ho to bounce all over the world as if it were your very own tennis court. Explaining it by using their busy careers as an opportunity, you must not know that you’re best when you’re right where they can see you. Even if they’re not there, jerking each other off to grainy security cam footage is their own bonding time. Sometimes you put on shows for them, modeling expensive lingerie that you think is going to be a surprise for their welcome home. Art always has an eye and a hold on Patrick, they both want that with you too.
“Go on,” He whispers for only Patrick’s uniquely shaped ears to hear, sorry angel. “The sooner you give our baby that nice big tangy load I know you’ve got for us, the sooner I can get their tummy swollen.”
Daddy gets his favorite kind of kisses when he floods your ass with cum, and he licks the remaining drops off your stretched rim with Art’s hand heavy on his head. You get your kisses too, from each of them until you’re sinking so far into that dreamy kind of headspace that affection from you means you lazily smack your lips together and call it a job well done. Fuzzy voices coo at you that it was indeed a job well done, squelching noises accompany Patrick reluctantly pulling out. You both whine the exact same way, Art beams and shushes you, using Patrick’s bruised ass to get rock hard and wet again for your puffy pussy.
“Just like that, fuck! Should have taken a picture, don’t you think? Make it last longer, keep you useful.”
All talk, as long as he’s alive he’ll have use. Existence breeds obsession, split three ways, the way some god intended. Like calls to like, moths to flame, water to silent desert rock, bleeding knuckles to piping hot iron, copper to silver, bones to soil, ball to grass-clay-concrete court.
Patrick hates it when you and art fight, turning him into a scared puppy. He doesn’t say to your face that he agrees with Art, that you shouldn’t leave the house amidst all the stress that a possible pregnancy can bring. Stress that’s easily worked off under their touch, stuffed full of so much cum that it might as well replace your gray matter. You can’t run laps around the house despite it being what your anxiety is telling you to do. You have to wait there on the toilet, holding each of their hands as you wait for the test results. Once the necessary time has passed, you can’t overcome your nervousness and instead wait for Art to look at one of the sticks.
You barely catch a glimpse of the test result when you’re tackled. Patrick’s on you first, sucking your tongue into his mouth while cradling your head in his hands so you don’t feel it when you bump into the wall. Art chastises him of course, pulling him back by his ear to give you some space. They’re both smiling, wide and blinding white grins so dazzling that you’re worried you’ll go blind. Their reactions alone tell you more than you could ever need to know, the monarch butterflies scurry from stomach to stomach. Those teeming with life and those forever starving. Art gives you a slow kiss and hums into you, the vibrations travel down to your flexing toes. Bubbly laughter drowns out the cracks of lightning outside, baby blanket blue on fire white.
You want to be loved in a way that’s wrong and out of sorts, your arousal is heightened by what your paranoia tells you will be someone’s undoing. Yours or theirs. Both. No one really needs pure intentions to love or be loved at the end of the day, and maybe that’s something to be grateful for. There are people who can love the sin as well as the sinner. Your hormones are doing a number on you, that much is clear, if you’re philosophizing about the morals of being in love when there more than likely are none. There’s just that so much time to think, that initial fear of being left when you yourself would be too overencumbered to. Art picks up on these kinds of thoughts more often than Patrick, who’s just happy to belong somewhere and to someone. The former busies himself with the heft of your tits. Sucks the life out of your hard nipples and then some, he adores when you come begging with a dripping cunt after a late afternoon nap because you had a very good dream.
“Lie back angel, working so hard right now… you need a break, mama.” Art giggles, engaging in a riveting one on one conversation with your throbbing clit, rapidly flicking it with his tongue as he locks clear eyes with your sleepy blinks. “Pussy’s gushing like a fountain now, ‘s so chubby too, I hope you never fucking work off the baby weight.”
Later they’ll wipe you down from the shower with their tongues, slurping up the water droplets like they’re bugs hovering around an in bloom blush pink flower because they’re freaks like that. Patrick’s out on the now usual run to the nearest convenience store for your latest cravings, he’ll try it with you too no matter what it is. Art does his best, but you’re too sensitive to others being nauseous to handle seeing his skin almost cartoonishly flood with a light mossy green undertone. Fall brings a whole new array of food combinations and flavors of snack cakes just waiting for you to inhale them worryingly quickly. Art brings your focus back to him with a teasing nip to your bud, closing his lips around it and giving it a firm suck as the front door unlatches. The crinkling of plastic grocery bags reach your ears before Patrick’s corny “Honey, I’m home!” does. More single minded than a dog with his bone, the bags clatter to the floor and his shoes pound the floor on the way to where you’re cumming on Art’s face in a flash of white.
Patrick frowns, “You know I don't like you being a slut when I'm not there, now you owe me two rounds.”
Art reminds the other man that you might not have the energy for the two rounds he’s imagining, full of slapping skin and ghoulish howls, Patrick simply says that you can drift off while he ruts away. Into you or on you, so long as his puffy tip is touching some sort of skin, makes him wish he could burrow and dig a tunnel inside you. Live in one of the chambers in your heart, Art in the other, your kids in the next, a no vacancy sign boarding the last of them shut. You tilt your head to the side so he runs his nose along the faint line of your pulse. He should record the echoing rhythmic thumps for when they’re traveling and can’t sleep without their missing piece. His chest burns when the words well up and won’t come out how he needs them too, how can you express that you need to live in someone’s very dna without letting your huge dick do the talking for you? He’ll quite possibly never know, maybe a rare showing of Art riding Patrick into the center of the earth as he gasps for life saving breath will be enough for you.
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