#fluffy floyd hours
Text
while in captivity, floyd encounters a human and unintentionally pair-bonds with you during a moment of biological vulnerability.
(cw: gender neutral reader, nsfw, omegaverse/abo, heats, captivity)
The marine lab has recently acquired a unique specimen—unique in that he is half-human and half-fish, hailing from deep, dark, indescribable depths. An eel merman, to be exact. You’ve only ever glimpsed merfolk in outdated textbooks and fairytales, the latter of which depicted them as whimsical beings capable of feats beyond scientific understanding. Magic. Although in the realm of biology, such folly is never entertained and so what the world calls ‘magic’ other fields built upon the foundations of research refer to it as a ‘miracle’. In your eyes those words are interchangeable, but then the idea of a miracle is far easier to digest than the concept of magic.
Merfolk have always been elusive, covert creatures, hence why there is hardly any conclusive data on them. In fact, they’re so secretive that they were believed to be mostly extinct—a figment of dreams and hallucinations. Most of what humans know stems from the tattered notes of long-gone sailors, their presences nearly lost to time itself, and for a while all anyone ever knew were four key details:
They are spread throughout the sea, living out their lives in frigid fathoms.
They are hypnotic and deceptive.
They are predatory.
They rarely interact with humankind unless absolutely necessary (e.g. to hunt or observe).
But with plenty of promising technological advances, some of the theories and myths surrounding merfolk have been bolstered or disproved, respectively. Merfolk are just as diverse as the rest of the animal kingdom. Some live in solitude. Others thrive in groups. Some make their home out of caves and grottos. Some dwell within the labyrinths of volcanic rock formations. It is every marine biologist’s dream to come face to face with one of these mysterious creatures, if only for just a few minutes to glean more information.
That dream is made reality today.
The eel mer was discovered off the coast of a tiny island, entangled in fishing lines and plastic litter. His large, winding body, snake-like in its sleek build, was littered with scars and scrapes. There was a hook lodged up in the folds of his gills. Despite his thrashing, his tail swishing wildly in the sand and nearly knocking down three researchers like they were bowling pins, he was wheezing and gasping, drained of energy and air. When the first bucket of seawater came down upon his dry gills, he settled briefly, wide, crazed, mismatched eyes flicking from face to face. Likely assessing the situation or counting the amount of bodies, the report claimed.
He fell still after that, and it took two teams of ten people to load him onto the lift so he could be flown to the lab.
After he spent a week in recovery, where he healed surprisingly fast, he was transferred to a much larger and wider tank, its depths far deeper than the average swimming pool. He doesn’t swim to the surface much, and he only ever pokes his head out at night, scanning his surroundings with intelligent, keen eyes. And then he turns and disappears below. It’s a pattern he’s stuck to for weeks now. No one really understands it, and they haven’t had the opportunity to try. He’s uncooperative and unpredictable. It’s much too dangerous to send a diver down there.
So they transfer you to his enclosure, assuming you might have more luck. You’re not sure and you can’t make any promises of potential success, as you’ve only ever interacted with marine mammals. A merman is…different. Not only because he’s half-man and, by that same logic, likely possesses a human brain that is capable of a higher level of thought, albeit one that is wired to suit his mer biology, but because he’s bigger. A lot bigger.
He could kill you.
You saw the documentation. The serrated teeth, the powerful claws, the dangerous jaw, the bulky, muscular build that cuts through water like a bullet. He is a predator in every sense of the word, and you’re supposed to look after him. Coax him to the surface. Get him to trust humans. Interact with him just inches from the edge of his tank and hope that he doesn’t get hungry or violent.
He might kill you.
But there are safety measures put in place for these things. Ethics to be followed and whatnot. It’s a slippery slope because he’s part human and therefore could possibly have the same level of intelligence humans have, in which case it would be wrong to trap him here. There may be ways to skirt around it with other animals, but he’s not like other animals.
For now, he’s kept here under the pretense of recovery and scientific study. The lab treats him like the big fish he is, going so far as to buy a shark suit in your size and instruct you to wear it even though you’re not going to get in the water. “It should prevent him from biting through,” they had said, “but it won’t lessen the force of his bite.”
“What good will that do? I can’t fight him off.” Though you knew it had nothing to do with anything, you added, “I’m an omega. Merfolk might not have the same sub-genders as we do up on the surface—or maybe they do; I don’t know—but if he were human he’d definitely classify as an alpha. Put that into perspective. I can’t. Fight. Him. Off. It’s biologically impossible.”
“So you poke his eyes. Dig your fingers into his gills. He should let go of you then.”
“That’ll hurt him,” you protested, clutching the suit to your chest.
“Not as much as he’ll hurt you.”
You suppose it’s a clinical priority. Survival of the fittest, but it’s the human who has to live. The lab could afford to lose you, but they don't want to. And if they did, they might put the mer down. Shoot him up with enough tranquilizers to keep him comatose. Maybe it only bothered you because, yet again, he’s half-human and no one on the team knows the extent to which he thinks and functions.
To simplify it, they consider him a shark. But like any creature, sharks learn and adapt as they go. Death is instinct.
He will kill you.
But you don’t want to think like that, which is why you put on your best smile and trudge into the enclosure he’s being kept in. The tank looms before you, seawater clear and beamed through with streaks of light from the harsh, glaring LEDs above. The deeper the water gets, the darker the shadows. You press your palm against the glass, observing the murky darkness with a frown. Somewhere in this tank, at a depth you can’t even imagine, is an eel merman. A big, strong, powerful, scary eel merman.
You swallow a steadying breath, curl your fingers into fists, and climb the spiral staircase to get to the attached platform. Your reflection follows you with each step, countenance set in grim confliction. Once you reach the top, you peer out at the surface of the pool, listening to the droning hum of water filters and other hidden machinery. There’s a very shallow part of the tank, a dip in the design that allows for the mer to lounge if he so pleases. You’re reminded of the dolphins in live shows, who slide up onto their stomachs to face an awestruck audience. You doubt that’s what he’ll use this ledge for. If anything, it could allow a researcher to kneel in the shallows while they interact with him at an intimate propinquity.
You don’t plan on being that researcher.
Instead, you pace a healthy distance away from the edge, holding a bucket of his breakfast in one hand and a notebook in the other.
“Um!” You cringe at your voice as it reverberates around you in a nervous echo. Cautiously, you inch towards the water. “I have your food!”
You wait three seconds, expecting him to come bursting up from the darkness like the shark everyone wants to delude themselves into thinking he is. The water remains still and unbroken. You wonder if your voice can even reach such a depth. If not the sound, the vibrations might. Or maybe he’s resting. It’s still relatively early in the morning. Perhaps his sleep schedule is thrown off. Yours would be if you were taken from your home and dumped in a manufactured version of your habitat.
You lurch forwards with the bucket and watch as a collection of shrimp, crab, and small fish soar through the air in a sloppy arc before landing and sinking into the waiting depths below. Nothing happens. The tension in your body ebbs away, and when it becomes clear that he isn’t coming up to greet you and feast on your offering you relax completely, collapsing against the wall with a great sigh.
If they really want to study him, they should just watch him on the security feed, you think, peering up at the camera in one corner of the room, its red eye fixated on you and the surrounding enclosure. He’s not going to come up during the day. Not when there are humans walking around.
Still, you wait your shift out, scribbling nonsense in your notebook and occasionally glancing up to gauge the state of the water.
The mer doesn’t show, so you resolve to try again.
Try you do, and try you have.
It’s been one week of perfunctory routine, arriving and feeding him at the same time in hopes that he might understand what you’re doing and come up to investigate. Or, at the very least, recognize you’re a recurring figure in his chapter of captivity. You don’t intend on befriending him. You only wish to fulfill your duties as a researcher, however skewed they may have become. Even though you know you ought to be grateful the mer hasn’t caused any problems, you want something to happen. Anything! At this rate, you’d sooner tire yourself out playing with rowdy sea lions than sit around in silence while waiting for an appearance from him.
It’s a quiet Tuesday afternoon when the first beat of unrest hits.
The mer’s enclosure is kept at a comfortable temperature for humans; it’s the water that’s freezing below the surface. So when you step up onto the platform and peer into the chum-infested deep, the empty bucket now set aside, you feel warmer than usual. Odd, considering the room is normally so chilly. Not extremely so, but chilly enough to give way to a pleasant cold.
Tugging at the collar of your shark suit, you cover the distance to stand under a large fan situated just near the dip in the pool. Cool air kisses your heated skin, providing you with much-needed relief, and you peer up at the propellers that spin in endless circles. Around and around and around. Your eyes follow the motions until you dizzy yourself, and you step back on wobbly legs. Your foot misses the metal platform and instead slips into the ledge built in the tank. With a startled yelp you fall backwards, landing in the shallows on your rear.
“Of course,” you mumble, bitter with embarrassment. “Leave it to me to fall right into the predator’s tank.”
You scoot further up onto the ledge, staring at the water below. It’s quite calm here, where the shallows lap languidly at your waist. If you were delusional, you might think this was a jacuzzi pool that you could dip your toes in. It’s not. Of course it isn’t. Not when there’s a beast lurking just below. But while you’re here, you run your hands through the saltwater while your own body temperature rises as if it’s a hungry flame in a stone hearth.
You place your hands on either side of the ledge, intending to push yourself up and onto the platform, when something tightens inside of you. Your heart stumbles in your chest and you lose the strength in your arms at once. With a noisy splash, you flop back into the shallows, your compromised body rigid and shaky with a tingling, all-encompassing warmth. Horrified, you raise two fingers to your pulse to feel it stutter wildly beneath your skin.
Swallowing thickly, you lower your head onto your arms and wait for the feeling to pass. The seconds slip by and in that short amount of time your state seems to worsen. Your temperature is volcanic, your every sense restless, and you’re sweating through the shark suit as if you’ve just run a marathon and more.
“Not now,” you hiss, slapping your hands upon your face. “Please not now. Anything but now…”
You intend to haul yourself up and out for good this time, desperate to get as far from the pool before your brain is completely overrun by your encroaching heat and robust omega instincts, when fingers brush against your leg. Something chitters behind you, a low, slow sort of sound that is shot through with curiosity. You turn as if you’re frozen in ice, your heart in your throat and senses on high alert.
The eel mer is right there, clutching your ankle in a firm grip. Not to hurt you, but to keep you there. And you’re not at all in a hurry to leave. Not when those claws are so close to your calf, capable of shredding through to your very bones. Even with the shark suit, you worry. He stares at you with narrowed eyes, his head angled in a cute, childish way. He appears confused and rightfully so, considering you’re a creature he’s likely never interacted with so closely before. You mirror his befuddlement, your brows furrowed, lips creased in a thin line.
For a long while, the two of you watch each other. If you look past his predatory design, he’s quite pretty with his smoky teal coloration and dark stripes. Your gaze pans over to the water, where a long, powerful tail disappears below. The paranoid side of you says he’s going to drown you, but then he doesn’t seem outwardly malicious in his intentions.
“Um…”
He flinches at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up to your throat and then your lips. Your attempt to pull your captive leg back is thwarted when he lurches, rising out of the water to grab hold of your foot. You gasp and shake your head at him, your senses sharp and dull all at once. Your heat-addled mind just barely parses the threat of danger, looming and ever-present.
“Please,” you beg, your tone sticky and breathless. “Don’t…”
The mer tilts his head the other way. The fins where his ears might be if he were human shiver, as if listening to the desperation in your syllables. He chirrups, lips widening in a sharp-toothed smile, and then he’s dragging you towards him. Panic seizes your nerves and you dig your palms into the smooth basin in an effort to get away. His expression falls when he notices your struggle and he lifts himself onto the ledge with you, draping himself over your legs like an oversized rug.
“Wait… H-Hold on; get off!” You grunt and weakly prod at his chest. He doesn’t budge. “You… You’re heavy!”
His webbed hand closes around your waist, steadying you in the shallows, while his other arm cages you beneath him. Instinctively, you arch into his touch, your breath coming in tiny, frenzied huffs. He clicks at you, and words that you can only assume are meant to be gentle and soothing are produced in a sweet melody. It relaxes you more than you’d like to admit, a lyrical balm to your terror.
You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for the worst. For the searing pain and the stinging agony. For the blood that will color the water a dark, foreboding red. For the sight of him merrily tearing into your jugular, his maw spattered with crimson. But none of that ever comes. He cradles your face next, his thumb running along your cheekbone, and slowly you peel your eyes open. His face is inches from yours, looking on with an intensity that’s almost primal.
Warily, you lift your arm out of the water and touch his hand. It’s much bigger in contrast to yours, but he’s handling you with such immaculate tenderness.
“You’re not going to hurt me…” you mutter, amazed. “You’re just curious.”
As if responding, he chitters. You nod even though you have no idea what he said. He doesn’t smell like an alpha or an omega or a beta. You’re not even sure if he’s capable of releasing pheromones, but if he were you’re certain it would have driven you much crazier than you already feel.
You hold his stare and reach up to pat his cheek, and he leans into your careful touch. Your hand soon trails down to trace his lateral lines, which earns you a pleased hum. You watch in awe as the gills on either side of his body flutter.
Led on by your own wonder, you follow the pattern to his waist and press your thumbs into his hip bones beneath smooth, slippery skin. “How fascinating… I wonder if it’s possible to take an X-ray. Would you allow—oh!”
Clumsily, he lifts you into his arms to embrace you, rolling his hips against the chainmail shark suit. Your breath hitches, and you fumble to grasp his broad shoulders.
“Ah, w-wait. I’m not… You can’t…”
He clicks thrice and lowers you into the shallows, his face scrunched in annoyance. You think he might’ve understood you, but then he’s palming between your legs and it occurs to you that he wants the suit off. Carnal delight shivers through you at the prospect of being wanted to such a degree, and though you know it’s the heat muddling your sensibility you can’t help indulging him just a little. You undo the zip at the back and slide it from your body, revealing your shoulders and bare arms for his wandering, mismatched hues. He leans in to nose at your scent glands, chattering happily as he inhales. You can’t understand a word, but he sounds pleased—even more so when he runs his hands along your arms, squeezing and petting in equal measure.
His tongue laves across your neck, and what fragile restraint you have left snaps. You cling to him like he’s your anchor, meeting his searching hips halfway with every awkward thrust that doesn’t quite connect as it should. You chew your lip, tamping down a torrent of filthy moans. Your mind is clouded with lust and instinct, and you dig your fingers into his hair, holding him against your neck while he continues to lick and nip.
It feels right up until the haze parts momentarily, allowing temporary sobriety when you spy the tip of something poking free of its encasing. Dazed and inquisitive, you reach between your bodies to prod at his slit, hoping to coax more of his prehensile cock from out of its folds. But then the door below opens and the mer lifts himself from off of you, his head turning in the direction of the sound at an alarming speed. You blink up at him, lazily following his line of sight. His lip curls up in a silent snarl, the beginnings of razored teeth peeking out, and then he slithers back into the water, his hands lingering on your ankles.
Despite the dizziness you sit up, your arm outstretched. “Wait, don’t go!”
I didn’t get to cum yet. You didn’t even claim me either…
He peers at you, neutral for all of a minute before swimming over to you. He presses his face into your palm, chittering softly. There are footsteps on the stairs, and he grits his teeth, withdrawing completely before turning and diving under in a spray of seawater.
You fall back into the shallows, panting like a starved, feral monster. A researcher comes to your aid, her expression equal parts shocked and disturbed. You don’t catch her questions, each one tacked onto what feels like a ceaseless rant, while she helps you to your feet. Something about danger. About heats. About omega biology. About how the researchers watched the both of you on the cameras, swelling with queries of their own.
“I’m not sure,” you mumble as you’re helped down the stairs, stumbling in a heat-drunken stupor. Thankfully, your fellow researcher is an omega like you and that relaxes the hypersensitive part of you—the part that fears being taken advantage of when you’re vulnerable like this. But the needier, greedier part of you wants the mer—wants his hands and mouth all over you, ripping you free from your suit and indulging in the bare skin beneath. “I think he...wanted to help…”
No one can explain his behavior. But it seems promising.
While you’re led from the room, the eel mer stalks you from the gloomy confines of his tank.
In the days following your heat, you return to the marine lab with your head on your shoulders and are immediately barraged with requests. Amongst all of them, one common demand stands out: You have to get him up to the surface again. Part of you doesn’t want to face the mer again. When you truly mulled over that day, tossed the memory of it around in your mind like it was a tennis ball, you were hit with shame.
It’s not…normal. Researchers do not tangle themselves in sexual situations with their subjects, especially when said subject was an eel mer from the Coral Sea. It’s unheard of. Luckily, the team of researchers you work with swears to secrecy. You were out of it and your judgment wasn’t in the best state. That’s the excuse they’re using. It works enough to push the humiliation from your thoughts.
You wonder if you should feel disgusted by the events. Rather, you didn’t mind it. For all of his rough, scarred, monstrous edges, he was gentle.
You press your fingers to your scent glands, recalling the feel of his tongue.
Today you’ve donned your usual work attire, foregoing the shark suit and any other protective gear the lab expects you to wear. Something tells you you won’t need it anymore. Not after everything that happened the day you went into heat.
Feeling rejuvenated and refreshed after your mini break, you trudge up the staircase with a food bucket, determined to finally fill your notebook with data. You’ve only made it up four steps when color flashes in your peripheral. You turn and find the mer is at your eye level, following you up the spiral staircase adjacent to his tank.
You pause and wave experimentally. He watches your hand move to and fro and then he mirrors your actions. He swims the rest of the distance to the surface, breaching it just as you make it onto the platform.
“Good morning, Mister,” you greet, bending down to empty the contents of the bucket into the water.
Disinterested, he watches bits of shrimp sink deeper. And then he looks back to you, his mouth opening and shutting. “Fu… Fu…” he forces out, his face scrunched in concentration.
“Fu…? Food?”
He nods and then shakes his head, hissing at himself in what you think might be admonishment.
“Fu…ro…”
“Furo?” You set the bucket aside and scoot closer to the edge. “What’s that?”
He tries once more before the syllables fizzle out on his tongue and, with a few frustrated clicks, he swipes a fish from the surface and stuffs it in his mouth. You giggle, and the sound has him tilting his head. Without a shred of apprehension, he meets you at the ledge. You watch him munch on the fish between his lips, content to observe in silence. He polishes it off rather quickly before procuring a handful, which he dumps onto the ground beside you. You shake your head at him, smiling weakly.
“Thanks, but no. It’s all yours.”
The mer shrugs and indulges without you.
“I should thank you for not hurting me back then,” you add. He pays close attention to your lips; you think he might be attempting to read them while listening. “Um… But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not sure if merfolk are like humans, but we have this system… Or not a system… It’s more like…groupings? Secondary classifications?” You frown. How can you explain the complexities of sub-genders to a mer who doesn’t even speak your language? “Basically, I was in trouble and you helped me out. Kind of. In any case, thank you.”
He stares at you for a while, chewing and swallowing. You think he might swim back under once he’s finished, but instead he places his hands on the ledge and hoists himself up on his arms. He’s in your face next, all eager smiles and chitters.
“Fu… Furo. Furo…ido. Furoido,” he sounds out.
You read his lips in the best way you can before it finally clicks. “Ah! Floyd, right? Is that…your name?”
Floyd points to himself, makes a few upbeat clicks, and then nods. He’s pointing at you next.
“And me? Oh, my name is (Name).” You take your time sounding it out for him, and he repeats it with an awkward tongue. You smile and nod encouragingly. “That’s it. That’s me.”
He flops back into the water with a celebratory trill, a wild smile tugging at his lips. You watch him swim laps from you to the opposite end of the pool and back. Ditching the shark suit was the right call. You’re no longer uncertain. This time, you know for a fact that you’re going to be getting along very well with him.
And you look forward to fostering this flowering friendship.
#meraki mumbles#fluffy floyd hours#n/sfw#tw: abo#tw: omegaverse#he's so cute >w< i love floyb orz#okay now it's back to tmdg!!!#jade is going to kill me for writing about his twin when i should be writing him ;;;;
541 notes
·
View notes
Text
Robert From Next Door | Robert "Bob" Floyd
Summary: You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x gn!reader, extremely fluffy, food mentions, heavy making out, shirtless Bob, only referred to as Robert for the series, unrealistic expectations of next door neighbors, 18+ as always. This idea hit me like a bus while walking the dog (where I almost was hit by a bus) and has been fully unable to leave my brain since then. Cozy, sweet, overly helpful Neighbor!Bob is literally all I want for Christmas. And he's my holiday present to all of you!
robert from next door | if only the neighbors knew
“I have a ladder you can borrow.” You look up from the box of Christmas lights you’re detangling in the garage to see your neighbor standing in the opening to the street. Coffee mug in hand as he watches you loop out another knot. He’d noticed your garage open that morning, too early for a Saturday, and came to investigate or possibly offer assistance. If there is one thing Robert Floyd does best, it’s help his neighbors.
You had moved into the tidy bungalow just under a year ago, placing a potted fern on the doorstep and painting over the dated beige walls. It was finally starting to feel like a home. Now with the holidays approaching (as reminded by the entirely too jolly Santas everywhere in town) you were excited to start new traditions in your humble home. And it started with putting twinkling lights on the house, lights currently tangled in the cardboard box you haphazardly threw them in twelve months ago.
Threading out another knot, you give him a playful smile. “How do you know I don’t have a ladder?”
“Lucky guess?” He’s not going to admit he’s scanned and memorized nearly every inch of your garage.
The day after the moving truck came and went, you were thrilled when your first new neighbor rang your doorbell. While you had expected some middle aged woman with a plate of brownies and a plea for babysitting, you were pleasantly surprised at the man in a flight suit (Lt. Robert Floyd according to the stitching) with the striking blue eyes who stood there instead. He didn’t have brownies, but he happily gave you the lowdown on the neighborhood as you sat amongst moving boxes drinking lemonade out of paper cups.
As the months passed, an easy friendship had developed amongst neighbors. In the morning before making his way to base, Robert would scoop up your morning paper and walk it up the seven steps to your porch. The paper boy always threw it short. And despite numerous pleas to leave it be - you didn’t mind the short walk - every morning when you went for the paper, there it sat neatly on your mat along with any misdelivered mail.
And when he wasn’t saving kittens from trees in his free time, Robert was a shining example of a great neighbor. Driving his truck for a trip to get plants at the nursery, lending his mower when yours broke in the heat of July, cleaning your gutters when the leaves fell…you shouldn’t be surprised he’s now offering up his ladder so you can enjoy your Christmas lights. Looking down at the tangled mess, you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get them actually on the house. Nails? Did you even own nails?
Not even an hour later you’re standing on the sidewalk facing your home with a hot cup of coffee in your chilly hands. Propped up on a ladder with detangled lights in one hand - and a tool belt around his waist like your personal Mr. Fix It - Robert hums to himself as he hammers nails into the trim before wrapping the first strand of lights in place.
You had accepted his ladder graciously, but mentioned you needed to hit the hardware store first for nails. With a nod of his head he left your garage and you continued on the lights. It was a tedious project, but rewarding once the final strand lay flat against the concrete floor. You were digging around in boxes for tools when your neighbor reappeared. He had a ladder and his tool belt, a full box of nails clutched in his large hand. Cheeks warm, you assured him you would buy your own. He let out a playful pfft.
“Nonsense. It’s Saturday, the hardware store will be packed. Consider them an early Christmas gift.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Let me at least trade you for them? A cup of coffee?”
“Do you still have those Kona beans?” His ocean blue eyes are hopeful.
Your smile widened as you nodded. The overpriced beans you had expensively shipped every month were a favourite of the weapons systems officer. Last month you had hosted the homeowners association meeting (for the first and hopefully only time) and Robert had raved about the coffee you served. He was used to the basic stuff they made on base, his own home brewing not much better. Your coffee was the best.
When you came back to the garage after whipping up a carafe - hot mug in hand - you shouldn’t have been surprised to see your neighbor already up the ladder, deep into the project.
You holler up to him. “Robert, get down! You don’t need to do that!”
But he waves you off, insisting that he had already started and might as well finish the job. He would just drink your delicious coffee once he was done. And so you were relegated to the sidewalk to make sure everything looked straight from the street.
From this distance you could admire him innocently. The military-issue wire frames that catch the morning sun. Broad shoulders under the neat canvas barn coat he recently replaced when the corduroy collar ripped. His strong hands shielded from the chilled wind under his workman’s gloves. Because someone like Robert Floyd follows safety precautions and owns workman’s gloves.
At this angle you can see the slight smile on his lips as he strings lights along your porch. For the next hour you watch him put up lights, him occasionally turning back and asking you how they look.
“Are you sure they’re straight?” You promise him they are, but he meticulously checks his work anyway. He wants your house to look perfect.
The wind has tinged both your cheeks a deep pink and the cold is starting to seep through boots. Robert has nailed the last of your lights to the trim and deemed them faultless. He comes down the ladder and walks to stand beside you to admire his handiwork. Hands on hips - with that damn tool belt still astride his waist - he turns to you beaming at a job well done. It’s impossible not to beam back, thinking how long it would have taken you to do even a job half as good.
“Thank you for putting up the lights. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” He isn’t sure whether your cheeks are red from the cold or something else. “I’m so lucky to have you as a neighbor.”
His smile is permanently stuck at your compliment. He opens his mouth to make a joking comment about the coffee you owe him - anything for more time together - when he feels the telltale buzz in his pocket. Pulling it reluctantly out after shedding a glove, he sees it’s Phoenix and is only semi-annoyed. They have lunch plans, which he’s running late for. And while he’s sure his front seater would approve of him blowing her off for the neighbor he can’t stop talking about, he’s a better friend than that.
Turning back to you, where you’re enjoying your freshly strung twinkling lights, Robert rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I have to head out…lunch plans. Rain check on that coffee?”
Nodding through your disappointment, you help him gather up his ladder and assure him that coffee is his whenever he wants.
The following morning you pad toward your front door, eyes bleary from a deep sleep. The house was cold and you pull your robe tighter around you. Through the glass panel in the door you can see your paper on the mat, as always, ready for you to consume over coffee and toast. As you open the oak door and scurry to shut it with the paper secured, something - or rather someone - catches your eye.
Robert stands in the doorway of his own bungalow, calmly watching the neighborhood. The thick fair isle sweater covering his wide shoulders looks incredibly cozy, and he nurses a mug between both hands. He exists in that moment without worry, and you’re envious.
His placid expression is broken when he feels your eyes, turning his head to see you, bedhead and newspaper clutched in your fist. His lips turn in a warm smile and he raises one hand in a slow, friendly wave. Your heart flutters, utterly taken away with how surely he carries himself, how sweetly he treats others. An emotion quickly squashed when you realize you are still standing in a bathrobe and knobby socks, flying back inside and shutting the door with heated cheeks.
As you go about working on your Sunday chores, you keep picturing Robert’s face, that small happy smile you can’t get out of your head.
Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in the sheets unable to find peace, you finally trudge down the hall into the living room, settling under blankets on the plush couch with a cup of chamomile. You’ve lost details of the plot of the movie you started, brain racing as your fingers fidget with the mug.
The faint trill of your phone on the coffee table breaks you from your thoughts.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Bo-Robert…from next door?” You yawn a hello while checking the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. “I just wanted to check if everything was alright? Noticed your lights were on.”
A warm feeling spreads through your chest at his concern. Picturing him peering out his kitchen window with the striped cotton curtains, filling up his own kettle, distressed that your house lights were on so late. You’d like to think he wore tartan pajamas, neatly buttoned. Those would suit him.
You settle back into the cushions as you reply. “Everything’s fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”
His thoughtful nod can practically be heard through the phone.
“Better question is, what are you doing up so late?”
The whistle and clink of boiling water and china crash over the line. A sigh pulled from his lips before responding. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea while I finished some reports, but appears that I am out.”
You glance down at your own mug of tea. It’s late, but not that late.
“What kind of tea do you like?” He muses on about his lack of preference - an equal opportunity tea lover - before admitting he was looking forward to a cup of peppermint. You make your way to the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you both open your cupboards. Your voice feels small as you offer, “I think I might have some.”
A silence lingers on the line. An unspoken late night implication that neither of you knows what to make of it. Your fingers flip through boxes of tea that take up too much cupboard space. Pomegranate, green, oolong. You don’t even drink tea that often. But right as you think you have too many white teas, you see the striped box of peppermint tea, one lone bag waiting for its turn.
You empty the box and walk to the window in your kitchen, where you can see the faint light on through his curtains. You clear your throat. “Look out your kitchen window.”
To your disappointment, Robert does not wear tartan pajamas to sleep. Although you are delighted to see his shirtless chest, defined from years of Navy training. He waves at you through your respective kitchen windows, holding up his mug of hot water. You lift up the tea bag, and his face splits into a toothy smile.
Before you can offer to bring it to him, he’s already turning toward his front door, speaking into the phone, “I’ll be over, just a minute. Need to find my coat.”
By the time there’s a soft knock on the door, you’ve turned on the kettle and gotten a fresh mug for him. You open the door, greeted by the tip of his nose and ears a merry red, the cold kissing his features. He’s been outside all of a minute. You usher your neighbor in, watching him observe how you’ve put up garlands and festive knickknacks in the entry since his last visit.
He slips off his boots, bare feet settling on the cold hardwood, and fingers the collar of his canvas barn coat. In his rush to come over he’d thrown his coat on forgetting his bare chest. It feels obnoxious to be half naked in your home, so he keeps his coat on and follows you to the kitchen.
“Peppermint still good?” You tease, the packet of tea leaves in your hand. He nods, slightly distracted by how cozy you look in your soft loungewear and the robe from this morning. Dunking the bag into the hot water, you search for a topic to pass the steeping time. But when you turn to talk to him, words catch in your throat because he’s right there.
Eyes so blue the sky is jealous. Shy smile so friendly it warms the room. Your thoughts dirtily flit to the tool belt around his waist on the ladder, fingers adeptly wielding a hammer. Fingers that brush yours in the proximity. He’s so close and your brain blanks as bodies simultaneously take action.
Your mouths find each other effortlessly, bodies pressing together as if they know the moves the two of you were just figuring out. The low-lying tension building for the past year breaking the surface as the dark of the house gives you both the bravery needed. His hands are cold as they find your waist, your hands too warm on his chilled jaw.
His mouth is all soft lips and hard pressure, the faint hint of toothpaste in his taste. It’s exactly as you imagined, but better.
Lips become more desperate the longer you connect, your back suddenly against the counter as he presses into you. This moment has been building since he’d watched you first walk up the front steps with that too big moving box. A hand slips into his sun-bleached locks he always has so perfectly combed. He moans into your mouth, a sinful noise in the quiet kitchen.
Before sense can interrupt, you’re reaching for the zipper of his coat, revealing every inch of his toned pale chest as the zipper slowly comes down. You slide a hand over the skin, a low gasp slipping out at the strong muscle. You’ve been attracted to his mind for so long, it feels unfair his body should be attractive too.
He shrugs out of the barn coat and follows you to the lowly lit living room, where the couch is softer on your back than the counter edge. Sitting side by side, knees knocking, he’s more hesitant to touch you in this context. Despite his body screaming to explore every inch of his pretty neighbor’s mind and body, he knows he’s basically barged into your home and immediately stuck his tongue in your sweet mouth. You get to set the pace.
“This okay?” His hand encompasses your knee, thumb rubbing smoothly through the fabric. You nod, tilting your head toward him to continue kissing. He’s warmed up now, your home and body bringing him to temperature. Robert smiles into your kiss. You can’t get enough of him, wanting to consume him fully. He’s delicate with you in the most delicious of ways; gentle kisses pressed to your soft lips before sliding his tongue across to politely ask for access.
Your mouth can’t open fast enough.
You place you hand on his hip, enjoying the warm skin and lean muscle beneath your fingertips. Groaning lightly into your mouth, he blindly reaches for your hips to bring you into his lap. His tongue takes its time to taste you, learn every intricacy of your flavor. Administration so thorough your eyes roll back in your head. The sounds escaping you music in the darkened room.
Fingers dance across skin, finding purchase on thighs, shoulders, chests. You can’t get close enough to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck as your swollen lips press harder to his. Robert loves the way your thighs straddle him as he leans against the couch cushions, his warm, large hands along your back bringing you closer to him. Your sharp inhale as one hand toys with the waistband of your lounge pants.
When his lips trail down your neck, praising the delicate skin, you can’t hold back your declaration any longer. “I…I’ve wanted this for a while.”
His lips pause, brow furrowed. “This?”
“You.”
That gratified smile will forever be imprinted along your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in.”
The whimpers that rip through you when he nips the thin skin behind your ear have him grabbing your chin and swallowing your sounds. Reveling in the shared passion you’ve both had simmering beneath the surface. Can’t help his hips rutting up into yours, glorious friction he’s been craving satisfied. You giggle through a moan against his lips.
“So, we could have been doing this all year long? What a shame, lieutenant.”
You ground down in his lap, running your own tongue along his lips and savoring his taste. Thoughts of what he tastes like after his peppermint tea have you wrapping your arms tighter around his bare shoulders. Behind his head, outside the window, the faint glow of the Christmas lights he strung up shines in the winter night. How did you find this perfect man, and how is he your neighbor?
You express your gratitude for him with your mouth along his jaw, licking along the skin while he deliciously whimpers in your ear.You can only take so much before you’re sealing your lips over his again, inhaling his every breath.
As lips finally reach exhaustion - brains well past tired as the clock strikes a new hour - Robert and you pull apart with content smiles. Already cold without his warmth, you immediately lean back into him. He’s practically a furnace now under your ministrations. Unspoken words pass between as you invite him to sleep on your couch with you. A throw blanket produced from the nearby chair as the two of you tangle your limbs. There’s something comforting in the way he rests your head upon his arm, your knee upon his thigh. Again, it’s like your bodies know the actions like they’ve been waiting for you to finally figure them out.
You’ve just settled your head upon his warm chest when a thought strikes you, prompting you to lean up to look at those sleepy cerulean eyes. The small curious smile he gives you melting your heart.
“Did you still want your tea?”
He shakes his head with a chuckle, using the last of his energy to tuck the blanket tighter around your body. “It’s okay. I got what I really wanted.”
Your heart feels two sizes too big as he presses a kiss to your temple before sleep takes you both.
When the winter sunrise streams through your curtains the next morning, you refuse to get up. Perfectly warm wrapped up in the thin throw and your neighbor’s arms, you are purely too content. When Robert blinks open his eyes and gazes at your face, he sees the same placid smile he wore the morning before. The same one he’s had since you moved in next door.
Despite both being all too happy to remain entangled on the couch, sharing small kisses on any skin within reach, the responsibilities of Monday morning dawn and you must get up. Reluctantly you release him, watching him fold the throw neatly upon the sofa arm before helping you stand. Warmth blossoms down your spine the more you’re in Robert’s presence, the little things he does meaning so much to you. Especially as he strides through your home shirtless, musing about the whereabouts of his coat on the kitchen floor.
Your eyes flit to the cold mug of abandoned peppermint tea as you offer him coffee. But he’s intent on getting home for his flight suit, the drive to base longer than he’d like. Of course, he would ideally spend the morning drinking your expensive delicious coffee and listen to you go on about the neighbors down the street with the atrocious holiday decorations. If you’d let him, he would spend every morning like that for the rest of time. But his admiral would put him in drills all week if he was any later.
You walk him to the door, robe pulled tight across your chest to keep out the cold. He’s pulled on his boots for the short walk and wraps his arms around you in an intimate embrace, disappointed this perfect night must come to an end. You bury your nose in his jacket-covered chest to enjoy the last of his herbal and citrus scent, hands reluctantly slipping from his middle. He turns to leave and both your hearts pang.
When Robert reaches the end of your path, he bends down and picks up the paper, thrown too short as always. He turns around and retraces his steps, walking back up the steps and straight up to where you reside in the doorway still. Fingers brush as he hands you the newspaper, saving you the walk as he always does. Only this morning he tips his head to press a kiss to your lips.
You’re already adding peppermint tea to your shopping list as you walk back into the house. Just for him.
see what antics happen at the next HOA meeting
taglist: @callsign-mongoose
#robert bob floyd#robert bob floyd fic#bob floyd fic#bob floyd#bob floyd fan fiction#robert bob floyd fan fiction#top gun maverick fan fiction#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x reader#x reader#bob floyd fluff#robert bob floyd fluff#gn!reader#neighbor!bob
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Etheries hello! If you're open to requests right now, could you write something for twst where they find out (gender neutral but presumably afab) reader is pregnant with their child? I'd love to request for Azul, Vil, Malleus, and Rollo specifically but any others you think would be fun to write would be fun to read too. Thank you!!
YYYAAAA!!! I LOVE THIS CONCEPT Twst men with children make me so giddy inside hehehehe. Especially the non-humans for some reason, like Fae and Mer folk aosiefjlskadjf
You're pregnant!! Their reaction?
you know what, I decided to throw in how many daughters/sons I'd think they would have, too. For shits and giggles.
Featuring: Azul, Vil, Malleus, and of course I need to add my baby girl Lilia <3 I'm sorry, I really can't write Rollo, I sat here for an hour trying to think of something, but I suppose he is where my creativity halts... my apologies. I hope you like this nonetheless!
General warnings: Afab reader, but no pronouns are used. I feel like there is obvious malleus favoritism because I think he's a huge simp that wants a bunch of babies LMFAOOO, there's so much to write on him. And Lilias is a little bit more on the angsty side of things...but overall fluffy! Not very proofread either <3
Azul
He is BEYOND anxious. More anxious than he had ever felt in his entire life. You? His lovely significant other, pregnant, with HIS child? His offspring?
Almost faints at the news. When you tell him the news, he just stares at you with wide eyes and jaw ajar.
He is happy, truly, but he's honestly a mess. Will this be a mostly human child? Will you be giving birth to an octo-egg? Will they need to be birthed in the water of the sea? So many uknown variables and questions swim in his mind, but his first plan of action is to hug you tightly and sob into your shoulder.
CONSTANT doctor checkups. He's asking you to go more often than they would recommend, but he can't help it. He needs to be 10000% certain that you are going to be okay and find out what form his child will be taking.
Imagine if it's twins, oh my gosh. He would actually faint.
his children will have a never-ending supply of love from Uncle Jade and Uncle Floyd
Weird presents, probably ingesting food from the sea by his recommendation, prenatal potions, and bed rest. If he read it, you were doing it. Your health was his number one priority.
Azul is probably leaning towards a traditional father, going to work and getting as much profit as possible to support you and his children. But of course, he will take a significant amount of time off to help you and any obstacles that come with having a mer-folks child.
On the sweeter side...
His hands will be trembling ever so slightly, with tears in his eyes every time he feels your stomach. He will kiss your stomach, and lay on your lap to be close by. He can't believe he has come so far in life- to the point where he has a beautiful significant other such as yourself and a child on the way.
He worries about many things, finances, being able to get the most out of life, if he will be able to provide for you and this child, and the kind of life his child will have.
Kind of hopes that his child is mostly human. He was bullied for his species, being slow, pudgy, and whatnot. That's not the life he wants for his children if they end up looking more like him.
You're able to calm his nerves, though. All in all, he is incredibly excited to meet his new baby, and will be doing so by his beloveds side <3
I personally see him having one child. Probably a boy, probably an easy baby. I don't think Azul would want more than one child.
Vil
the moment he saw that positive pregnancy test, he had a conflicting wave of emotions.
Of course his outward reaction was to hug you, stroke your head, and pepper your face in kisses. Of course, the news elated him, he seemed calm and collected enough, but there were many worries in his mind.
He doesn't want to accidentally "ruin" his child.
Vil was always in the face of cameras, the face of the public's wary eye, and was hyper-focused on his image and how others may perceive him.
He would hate to accidentally subject his child to the same watchful eye of the public and create this whole image that he needs to be perfect. He wants this child to grow up how they choose, with good values, instead of fearing what may come out of the public opinion.
always hiding you and shielding you from paparazzi. He wanted to hide the news that you were pregnant until later down the line. There are some crazy fans out there, and he would never risk something happening to you. Face masks and disguises were not unknown to you from dating him already at this point, but it was almost as if it came out tenfold.
Rook and Epel = sweetest most doting uncles ever!
Vil had to slap Rook on the head when he felt like Rook was getting a little too handsy with your baby bump.
Epel made sure you had the best batch of apples straight from the farm! Good for the baby, he says!
Vil loves playing music for you and his child, piano, singing...he loves it. it's great bonding for the both of you. He'd hum and sing songs to your stomach while rubbing it gently.
Finances will never pose a problem. Another thing that was never a problem, was Vil going out of his way to take off work and make sure he was there to properly take care of you. You never felt abandoned and alone despite his busy schedule and the fact he was always out doing some sort of movie shoot or commercial, he would never hesitate to take off or call in if you were having a particularly rough day.
Overall, he's excited! He hopes the baby grows up in their own skin and individuality, making choices for themselves when it comes to their career path. And a little side note...he really liked how cute you looked waddling around pregnant with a baby bump. Heuehue.
I can envision you and Vil possibly having two-three children, pretty even in age difference. Depends! I think he would like a big family, get a home with plenty of space. I can see him with both boys and girls, I think I see Vil being a really good "girl dad" tho.
Malleus
absolutely ecstatic. He wanted this so so so bad. He was over the moon. He held back an embarrassing display of giggling and fangirling over the fact he impregnated you, instead opted with a smile and a "Wonderful."
You sometimes wonder if he purposefully did something to result in your pregnancy because I like to think he's a little bit insane like that, but it's okay! You don't mind!
This man wants so. many. kids. Half-fae Half human children run around the castle bringing it to life and showing off the world the unity between humans and faes. He doesn't care if anyone else doesn't agree with this, he on the other hand is absolutely bemused by you and the fact you are bearing his children.
Will they come out as eggs needing to be hatched? How long will it take to hatch with your nonmagical side? Will they have mostly human attributes? Will his fae genetics be so dominant that it's like a bunch of little copies of him? Will his child have your ears and his eyes? and vise versa? will his child come out looking just like he did, in a full dragon form, or will his child come out like a normal human? He has asked ALL of these questions and more. He is so excited.
Buys a lot of clothes, builds rooms in the castle (yes, rooms. because he knows you will have more of his children and wants to be prepared.) "Can never have enough to be prepared for all outcomes," He says. Whatever floats his boat, I suppose!
Appoints the most skilled doctors there is in the Valley. You are always, without a doubt, taken care of. He reads piles upon piles of parenting books, he's always by your side, to the point where sometimes he brings you into important meetings just to be sure you were in his sights.
He vows his children will never feel the crushing lonliness he did as a child. He vouches to always be availble to have meals with his children, to play with his children, and be active in their learning process. He will allow them to travel all over and gain knowledge, and be certain they will never feel like they are missing out on anything.
He LOVES your baby bump. At night in bed he will press his ear up against your stomach, rub it, kiss it, talk to it. He is so infatuated with you and your body. Kisses every single stretch mark, and his hands are all over you. Seeing you pregnant with his child stirs up some sort of desire to keep you that way, but he tries to...push down this part of him. For the most part. Heuheu.
And when you two are sleeping, his dragon tail always comes out to wrap around you protectively. It's his way of making sure both of you are safe through the night because sevens forbid anything happens to his beloved and their child(ren).
Honestly, I am a firm believer that Malleus would have twins, for some reason. Two hatchlings! Together! A boy and a girl. (I have a whole fic idea for this...you'll probably see it one day. heuheu.) or two boys. I think it would be super chaotic with two twins with big draconic features and attitudes, alot of running around and mischief in the house!! He would of course go on to have more children with you. I think it may become an addiction for him. Or not! I can also see him being content with two.
Lilia
Honestly, when you first gave him the news, he was uncertain how to feel. He inquired if you were serious,him raising a child at his age? He wasn't certain he'd be able to do it. He raised Silver, and now that his magic reserves were dwindling, he was worried he wouldn't be able to fully be there for you and your baby.
"Lilia...i'm pregnant." Once those words left your lips, his normal silly demeanor dropped slightly. He had a thoughtful look upon his face, eyes wide staring at you. He asked if you were certain, and it was initially a long and deep discussion about your future together and how things will pan out.
After talking it out, a few tears and heartfelt moments, Lilia smiled brightly and gave you the biggest hug and kiss on the cheek. He started to become a little more excited! And once you shared the news with Silver, Malleus, and Sebek, they were more than happy to pitch in a helping hand.
Honestly, I think as he saw your baby bump grow, so did his excitement. He of course loved the children he adopted more than anything in the entire world, but something about looking at you holding your tummy full of his very own blood, it felt...different.
He was nervous, for sure. This was a child that was going to carry his lineage, his very own DNA coursing through that baby. He wasn't sure how things would turn out but prayed that this baby would have a life of peace and acceptance, unlike his war-filled days and alienation for being a lesser type of fae.
He was OBSESSED with how you looked pregnant. He could get used to this sight, you waddling around, swollen feet... for more in-depth details about how he felt about you being pregnant, you can take a read at this fic I wrote a while ago about it. All in all, he pampers you to death. Rubbing your feet, kissing your stomach, tracing your stretch marks with his fingers...oh he could truly get used to this.
He does fear what the future may hold. He wants all of his children to see him at his strongest, not to see him slowly give into old age as his magic fades to nothing. You may have to reassure him a few times throughout your pregnancy that you and this child will love him no matter what, and remind him that YOU are magicless as well. And Lilia would make an amazing father, with or without his "power." It's his personality and determination as an amazing, child-loving figure that will give this child a life to look forward to.
Once he gets over the insecurities about becoming a father to a new half-fae, half-human baby, he starts to dig up old parenting books he used to have.
He will give this baby, and you, as much love as he possibly can <3\
I can see Lilia with a girl! Probably just one baby, because he can only handle so much anymore! He would be an AMAZING girl dad. He would be a great father regardless of the gender of the baby, but I can really see him with a daughter for some reason. The visions are strong with this one.
#twst#twst x reader#twst headcannons#twst fanfics#twst fanfictions#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland headcannons#twisted wonderland fanfics#twisted wonderland fanfictions#lilia#lilia vanrouge#Lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia twst#lilia twst x reader#Azul#Azul ashengrotto#Azul ashengrotto x reader#azul twst#azul twst x reader#azul x reader twst#Vil#vil schoenheit#Vil schoenheit x reader#vil twst#vil twst x reader#Malleus#Malleus draconia#Malleus twst#Malleus x reader
662 notes
·
View notes
Note
May I please have this? https://www.tumblr.com/katskitoshi/696416151501209600/sheepy-twisted-wonderland?source=share
But instead of sheep a Bunny and with the other dorms?
Thx Love your work!!!<3
"MY CUTE LITTLE BUNNY!" with TWISTED WONDERLAND.
synopsis: you thought you would be prepared to never let another sheepy incident happen again. however, you clearly underestimate your friend's ability to ruin your life. but this time, you turn into a fluffy little bunny rather than a fluffy little sheep.
characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, rook, epel, idia, ortho, malleus, lilia, silver, & sebek x fem! reader
you took extra precautions to try to prevent yourself in an alchemy incident. you watched each ingredient go in, stopped horse playing and petty fights, and double-triple made sure the order of each ingredient was correct. somehow, after a miscalculation or addition of some unknown substance (grim added something without telling you), your body turns into [color] smoke and you shrink down a bunch of feet.
you're no taller than grim now, with cute floppy ears, a fluffy tail, and a cute twitching nose thats flicking especially fast from stress. and just like before, you're left in the hands of the dorms as crewel looks for a way to turn you back. let's see how they do, yeah?
HEARTSLABYUL is a pretty safe place for a bunny like yourself! nice roses, cute animal friends, and nice tea parties you get to be apart of. it's easy to get lost in the twisty-turvy halls, but it's still a pretty dorm for a pretty bunny!
riddle is a pretty suitable caretaker. you're fed each meal, which is surprisingly more than carrots thanks to trey. he'll brush your fluffy coat and keep you looking as proper as possible! a nice, long bath is due after a tiring day of hanging out with the hedgehogs and flamingos, and he's pretty good at restoring your fluffy coat to it's former glory. once bed time rolls around, he'll let you take one half of his bed and he'll take the other. if you hop into his arms while he sleeps, he won't push you away. however, if you nudge at him with cute pleading bunny eyes for a bite of his tart he will. he loves you dearly, but he will not share his tart with you while you're in bunny form. that's a treat reserved only for when you're human.
trey is your sole reason for sanity. you thought you'd be fed carrots and lettuce all day, but he's able to whip your vegetables into anything you wish. carrot cake, sugar free fruit tarts, hay biscuits. any food you could think of, trey will try and most likely succeed in making it perfect for your bunny tummy. besides his amazing cooking, trey's good at grooming and reading you. he absolutely loves your little ear or nose twitches! if you're good, he'll let you help him bake or collect some ingredients. but only if you're good, okay?
pretty predictably, cater is thrilled about your transformation! it's super cute and magicammable. don't worry, he has his phone, a brush, and a cute diamond hair clip on standby as soon as you enter his care. it's time for a makeover! he'll manage your fluffy fur into a nice style with the hair clip and take a bunch of pictures. once that's done, he'll take you out to the rose garden and just talk for hours with you. he takes notice of your every reaction and pets your cute ears in response. if you couldn't tell, he loves them. but it might be obvious due to how often his hands will gravitate towards them and just fondle them. gah, you're so cute! all these pictures might overtake his sheepy one!
ace was supposed to be beheaded for his crimes, but he seems to like punishment. somehow, he got his hands on you and you're terrified. but this time, it's all for nothing. surprisingly, ace was a much better caretaker than before. he fed you and kept you out of harms way enough the survive your time with him. but ace made his time with you special. a little dream of his was to pull a rabbit out of a hat, so he used a small teleportation spell to transport you from his bed, to be slowly pulled out of his top hat. with a "ta-da~!" leaving his lips, you begged to go again! it was fun, and ace was finally not putting you in harms way so its a win win.
sweet deuce always wanted a bunny growing up. he never got one, but perhaps this mishap was a blessing in disguise. he hugged you close to his chest gently when he first got to hold you and smiled brightly. deuce is a great caretaker. he'll bring you whatever you want, even if you shouldn't eat/have it, and he'll let you play outside for a nice long time! all he asks for in return are some cute snuggles and to let him pet your ears. his dreams will come true!
perhaps letting you stay in SAVANACLAW for a bit was a mistake. it was hot and scary. the blazing sun and dry conditions were nice, but the sand blowing in your face and wool was not. oh, and not to mention you were at the bottom of the food chain here. i mean, who's brilliant idea was it to keep a prey and a dorm full of predators?
be lucky leona values human you a bit. if he hadn't, who knows what would've happened to you? maybe a big, scary beastman would snatch you up, tun you into bunny stew, and eat you for dinner with no remorse. leona'll tell you all those things to try and scare you, but sevens forbid once of the losers in his dorm lay a hand on you. then, they'll turn into beastman stew and leona will slurp them up and go right back to bed while using you as a pillow.
how adorable could you get? ruggie will chuckle at your new form, his familiar laugh and smile making you feel a bit less stressed about the situation. as usual, leona will throw ruggie some money to take care of you, only use a bit for you and pocket the rest. he still cares, so he'll even watch you frolic and play around the botanical gardens or fields of savanaclaw.
jack is such a good boy, as always. he always takes care of you and does it pretty well. nice meals and groomings obviously. he'll also let you play around outside if you get bored, or do anything your little bunny brain wants. as long as it's in reason, he'll give it at least a thought. so, to put it short: no, [name], jack will not let you go inside the microwave to see what it feels like.
when approaching OCTAVINELLE, your best decision is to hop as far as you can and as fast as you can. but unfortunately, that cannot help your poor, unfortunate bunny soul for there are eels and octopuses that stop you from going before the fun begins.
dollar signs ring in azul's head as he hears about your form. hooray! marketing! you can either sit pretty in the eating area of the lounge or in his office for private pet sessions. for the cheap price of 1000 madol, a student can pet your cute little bunny ears. besides being a marketing tool for him, he cares for you pretty well.
jade drugs you. nothing more to say than that he wanted to give you some mushrooms and well, bunnies don't fair well with them. next thing you know, you're hallucinating carrots and [favorite food] and begin chomping away at him. jade only laughs. he's an okay caretaker. but he much enjoys seeing you woozy from just a common mushroom. he really wants to see what happens to you with psychedelics.
look, when you said you wanted to go in the microwave, you were joking! floyd attempts part 2 of attempting to cook his crush. it was crazy, honestly. floyd seemed to learn no lesson! but at least your so squeezable in this form! ah, his cuteness aggression is kicking in! he's still harsh, but at least the number of injuries has decreased. so perhaps something has changed. but let's not forget of his crimes. attempted microwave cooking, attempted drowning, yanking your ears, flicking your nose, and quite a few more that will most likely not end up on his record but should.
similar to savanaclaw, SCARABIA is a dorm with great living conditions for bunnies! most of the time, the dorm members are nice and the dry ground is fun to dig in.
kalim had changed a lot since last time. he's a lot better at taking care of you. if it's too warm, he'll make a little oasis. for you to swim in or drink out of. he'll let you hop around the desert planes of scarabia but he'll most likely lose you. and when he pets you, he's a bit rough from cuteness aggression, but he loves you and treats you like royalty nonetheless.
jamil is again your main caretaker, and again one of the best people you can end up with. nice food, well taken care of, lovely head-rubs and all sorts of affections. i'd like to believe that once upon a time kalim or one of his siblings had a rabbit and it turned into jamil's responsibility to take care of it. who would've know that their negligence would help him?
hopping into POMEFIORE was lovely. the scenery was breathtaking and it smelled of fresh fruits and apples. this is one of the only dorms you can hop around and just find food lying there. nice fields to get lost in, nice waters to swim in. this dorm is like bunny heaven!
vil is a great caretaker, and he'll carry you wherever you need to go. you know this little poodle pouch bag things, vil owns one just for you. after treating your wool, whiskers, and paws and such, he'll plop you right into his little bag and stroll around pomefiore to invoke the jealous stares of his dorm mates. now, you're the prettiest bunny with the prettiest man to carry you around!
you know those fields you like to get lost in? yeah, you're never really lost because rook always has his eye on you. he loves you as a bunny dearly. taking photos at every moment or chasing you just to see your ears and nose twitch in fear. it's hilarious to him! and insane for you to think he wouldn't just love to sneak up behind you, grab you, and hold you to his chest while giving you kisses all over your little bunny head and ears. as soon as you're back in human form, he'll give you some real kisses while he forces you to look at all the cute bunny pictures he has!
sweet epel shares his apples with you. back home, he was familiar with bunnies as they'd come into the orchard and try to steal apples. he'll cut them up into cute shapes for you so you don't have to hit the trees to try to get them to fall for you. again, he'll carve you a little apple figurine of you in bunny form. epel'll share some sweet moments of just talking as he rambles into his southern accent, like he used to do back home, but instead he's just rambling onto his crush.
IGNIHYDE is freezing! but luckily you have nice thick, fluffy wool to cover you and keep you warm. it's a refreshing change from the warm weather of other dorms, but one things the other dorms were definitely better at was their natural aspects. there was barely any outdoorsy space for you to frolic in!
idia has never considered having a garden in ignihyde, but your pleading bunny eyes and downturned ears somehow convince him. next thing you know, idia's had a small garden built for you to jump around in. he even leaves his room to watch you. when you aren't in his garden, he's sit you on his desk or lap and pet your ears as he games or something. perhaps he'll even give you some pomegranates to snack on. oops! looks like you have to stay in ignihyde just a bit longer~!
ortho is darling, really. he searches the web for how to perfectly care for you and caters to your every need. he even helps convince idia to make you that garden. he'll even take you to the gardens of night raven for you to be able to play around properly, and buy you some bunny feed. overall, good job ortho! he's a good caretaker.
DIASOMNIA is a scary place for a little bunny like yourself. oh, you thought you were being towered over in other dorms? that's funny! people are like giants here, and you haven't been this scared since octavinelle.
of course, malleus was left out of the meeting that explained that you would be passing through the dorm's care. he went to ramshackle expecting you, only to find you were at his dorm! he teleports there immediately, and smiles once he get's to hold you. he didn't think you could get any smaller! malleus was more interested in stone animals than anything, but a cute breathing bunny is fun too. especially when it's his child of man.
lillia should not be left in charge to care for you. well, at first he shouldn't. he'll play the ropes a bit and is quite rough at first. pulling your ears a bit and flicking your nose a bit too hard, but he'll suddenly flip a switch and is super gentle and sweet. nice pets, kind words, the whole kindness bundle. but then, he tries to feed you. and you're certain it was all a act to get you to trust him and for him to feed you his awful food! once you're human again, he'll wonder why you have a little grudge with him, not understanding that he's nearly killed you with his food.
silver is missing in action. not a bad caretaker or a good one. but he naturally has animals gravitate to him so he barely noticed having you hop in. once he familiarizes himself with you and realizes you're not just some woodland creature, you're his friend and his crush, he'll straighten up his act a bit and make sure you're taken care of especially. although it makes the other animals jealous, silver can't help but hold you specifically while he's sleeping. it's so sweet!
sebek is okay. he's not all that familiar with animals, but can hold his own in taking care of you. you're fed pretty nice meals but not given that much affection. his cuteness aggression might kick in, so he refrains from it. he'll also try to watch his voice, because he knows it'll hurt your ears if he's too loud.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twst x you#riddle x reader#trey x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#cater x reader#ace x reader#deuce x reader#leona x reader#ruggie x reader#jack x reader#azul x reader#jade x reader#floyd x reader#kalim x reader#jamil x reader#vil x reader#rook x reader#epel x reader#idia x reader#ortho x reader#malleus x reader#lilia x reader#silver x reader#sebek x reader
721 notes
·
View notes
Text
Buzzing Romance
Robert "Bob" Floyd
Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.
Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!
Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.
Word count: 1.1k
Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you.
Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.
A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.
Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance.
Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh.
It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship.
Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise.
The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.
You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform.
Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit.
Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado.
Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited.
You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body.
The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.
Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand.
“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out.
Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”
“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen.
“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink.
While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”
His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends.
Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy.
“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you.
“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck.
“I have to admit my intentions aren’t purely altruistic.”
“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.
“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.
You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”
Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.
With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.
Visit my masterlist for more | Sign up for my tag list!
A kind reminder: Likes work hard, but reblogs and comments work harder 😈
Tag list: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @taytaylala12 @galaxy-of-stories @awildewit @shanimallina87 @malindacath @violyn20 @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @blue-aconite @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @mavrellover91 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @seitmai @abaker74 @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @beyondthesefourwalls @bradshawsprincess @damrlova @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @sweetwhispersofchaos @bellaireland1981 @fanboyswhore9 @hardballoonlove @catsandbooksandstuff @mygyn
#top gun fanfiction#top gun fanfic#top gun maverick#top gun#topgun#robert floyd fic#reader x robert floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#robert floyd#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x reader#bob fucks#tgm bob#topgun bob#top gun bob#bob floyd fucks#tgm fics#topgun valentines
249 notes
·
View notes
Text
Arrival // Robert Floyd
Summary: Your early morning pregnancy cravings turn into more then what you bargained for when you go into labour.
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: Pregnancy. Birth. Robert Floyd x F!reader. Mickey Garcia x Platonic! F!reader. Inaccurate depiction of birth. Fluff!
Author Note: Hi! Happy Saturday folks! Yes, I’m painfully aware this isn’t what you wanted this weekend. However, it’s what you’re getting. So sit back, relax, and enjoy for once something fluffy as fuck.
It wasn’t all that often that you got a good night's rest this late into your pregnancy. Every night was the same as the last, up and down, side to side, kick here and a pain there. You woke with a hiss as the feeling of what felt like the left side of the rib-cage breaking in half. Your hand imminently came up to caress your stomach, thirty seven weeks along, with no sign of labour in sight.
“Shh—go back to sleep, little one.” You whined as you slowly circled your hand over your swollen belly. As the kicking persisted the realisation set in that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep anytime soon. “Without fail hey?” It was almost a nightly ritual at this point. You’d toss and turn for a few short hours before you’d accept your fate.
As you sat up carefully and ever so slowly so as to not wake your boyfriend, you checked the time on your phone. You were, at the very least— unimpressed at the time staring back at you, 2:30am. A slight moan left your mouth as you rolled over to see the love of your life, Robert Floyd, sleeping soundly next to you. A soft but all consuming smile crept across your face at the sight of him. He was just unapologetically Bob. His soft nature and caring personality was what drew you to him in the first place, and now, in the early hours of the morning, you fell just a little more in love with him with every soft snore that escaped past his slightly parted lips. The love you had for your partner Bob radiated through you like the strongest drug of all. It was so powerful and so consuming that your little bundle of joy that was due earth side any day now felt that love and got a little too excited. A hard kick planted itself into your side.
“Yeah bubba, I know.” You tried to contain the small gasp of pain that threatened to echo out into the quiet of the night as you rubbed your stomach in a sweet soothing motion. “Daddy’s still sleeping, I wish I was too.” You swore if you could see your baby girl right now, she’d be poking her tiny tongue out at you. Every bit the cheeky girl her dad used to be when he was a little boy.
“Ow!” You winced, your little bundle of joy really enjoyed using you as her personal punching bag. “Bub, please stop yeah? It’s not funny anymore, well it never was to begin with, but yeah just cut it out okay?” You spoke to your expected daughter a lot, you’d read somewhere that while in the womb expected children can hear voices and recognise important people like mum and dad. a”let’s go get something to eat before daddy wakes up.” You spoke softly to yourself under your breath as you waddled your way into the kitchen.
At the beginning of your pregnancy, Bob had begun stockpiling the fridge and pantry with weird and wonderful food so you would never go without. You bit your lip as you looked through the plentiful pantry, your eyes fell on the fresh container of peanut butter. Placing it on the counter you opened the fridge, your mouth instantly salivated at the sight of the pickle jar. Specifically dill pickles, specifically the kind Bob's grandma made. There was nothing better than a crisp home-brined pickle and your little girl couldn't agree more as you used the small, strategically placed stepping stool to help yourself up onto the kitchen bench. It wasn’t long at all before you had the lid of the peanut butter off and were dipping the pickles straight into the peanut butter.
Your little girl kicking at your stomach as if to say she was happy with your late-night or rather early morning decision.
“I know, good right?” You giggled to yourself as you dipped another pickle into the peanut butter. It wasn’t long at all before you heard heavy footsteps pattering down the hall from your bedroom. “Opp, it’s the fed's baby girl.” You teased loud enough so that Bob could hear. “Hide the evidence.” A gentle hand landed on your shoulder, massaging the tense muscle softly as you leaned into your boyfriend’s touch.
“What unholy thing are you snacking on this early in the morning baby?” You heard the early morning grumble in a sleepy Robert Floyd’s voice as he wiped his hand over his eyes.
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it, besides—“ you took another bite of the peanut covered pickle. “Your daughter was the one craving it, not me.” Everything you had eaten in the past month had been at the decision of your unborn child. She was picky and very weird. The amount of watermelon you had consumed had to have been a world record and you couldn’t stand the smell of any kind of cooked meat right now. It was later in your pregnancy that your cravings and food aversions really started to hit and hit hard.
Bob moved himself between your legs as they dangled over the edge of the counter-top to rest his hands on your hips.
“Why do you insist on making your mama eat weird food combinations baby? And not to mention she doesn’t like to be woken up at all hours of the morning. She needs her beauty sleep angel, well not that she isn’t beautiful, but you get the point.” Bob babbled as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your belly. She kicked in response to hearing her daddy's voice. “You know—” Bob smirked as he came back up to leave a kiss on your lips, trailing tender kissing down the left side of your neck. “You look awfully sexy while you’re pregnant, not that you weren’t sexy before, but you have this glow about you that I can't resist.” Bob continued his assault on your neck.
A soft moan left your mouth as your lips parted at the feeling of Bob’s warm lips against your neck. He ran his hands up your oversized shirt which was coincidentally, his, and placed them atop your baby bump.
“I can’t wait to meet our beautiful girl, she’s going to be just as perfect as you, I know it.”
“Mmm, I’m not perfect Bob.” You tried to argue as you bit into the next pickle. Bob chuckled at the sight of you obnoxiously chewing, purposefully exaggerating your facial expressions. It didn’t take him long at all to cave in to the curiosity.
“Okay let me try—“ Bob gestured to the pickle in your hand. “C’mon, give me a bite.” You dipped it into the peanut butter once more and placed it in his awaiting mouth. Bob's face contorted into something of disgust as you chuckled softly. He ran to the sink to spit the pickle out. “Oh god, that’s definitely a flavour combination I’m not keen to try again.” Spitting into the sink, Bob washed his mouth out with the running tap.
You couldn’t control your laughter, tears had begun to form in your eyes. “Oh? you think that's funny, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing in a second.” Bob teased as he sauntered back over to you and started his assault on your body. His fingers moved all over your body sending shivers and Goosebumps all over.
“Robert! Stop it, stop B-Bob!” You laughed out loud through gasps and giggles as he continued tickling you. In the early hours of the morning Bob let out a boisterous laugh. He loved you. Oh so much.
“Who's laughing now huh?”
“Bob, I can’t breathe s-stop p-please—.” As you pleaded with your boyfriend, you felt as if you wet yourself, however, unlike all the other times you have due to your baby girl pressing inconveniently on your bladder, this time felt more intense. The feeling kept going until you saw water dripping down the bench.
“Bob! oh—oh my god, I think, I think my water just broke.” Bob's eyes imminently widened as he stared at you in fear. Like the last nine months hadn’t been building up to this very moment.
“What? You aren’t due for another two weeks?” Worry was prominent in his tone. You could tell he was starting to panic, the thought of him having a life dependent on him starting to set in. You knew you needed to calm Bob before things progressed into something more severe, so you reached out to grab his face with both your hands and rubbed the pads of your thumbs against his cheeks.
“Bob homey, listen to me.” Those ocean blue eyes were truly home to you. “My water just broke— so you need to take me to the hospital yeah? Fanboy and I put an emergency hospital bag together a few weeks ago in case I went into labor while we were out so it's in the back of the Jeep.”
“Oh, okay, i-i'll go wake h-him up.” Bob and Fanbky had lived together off base since they first came back to North Island a few years ago. They’d been friends for as long as you’d known Bob for. “Holy shit—I can’t believe this is act-actually happening.” He stuttered as he lent into your hands, the feeling of you caressing his check comforted him. Of course, you’d go into labor and STILL have to take care of Bob, you were his rock, his entire world, you’d always be there to take care of the love of your life so nothing was different about this situation.
Bob helped you down off the kitchen countertop as a sharp pain radiated throughout your lower abdomen. It took your breath away for a moment. You circled your hand over your stomach and took a deep breath in.
“Ohh— little girl you just had to come tonight didn’t you?”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“Mickey? could you maybe drive a little be faster, please?” The contractions had come quickly. Bob was sitting in the back with you, stressed as all hell, rubbing small circles against your lower back as you tried breathing through the pain as best you could. All Mickey did was smile at you through the rear-view mirror.
“Y/n, even when you’re in labour you're still so nice.” Mickey grinned— he was so excited to meet his best friend's first child. His daughter.
“How you feeling bub?” What kind of a stupid question that was, you thought to yourself.
“Umm not good, I just want to get to the ho-hospital.” Tears now traveled down your face. “I’m scared baby, I don’t think I can’t do this.” Your contraction eased, you were thankful for the moment to breathe as you settled back against the backseat.
“Baby, Y/n, listen to me yeah?” Bob held your face softly between his slightly calloused hands, the pads of his thumbs collecting your tears. “You are the strongest person I know, you carried our baby girl for nine months, nine months baby! You can do this and I'll be with you through the whole thing.”
“yeah! so will I!” Mickey tried to lighten the mood, he thought if he could make you laugh you’d feel a little better before yet another contraction washed over you. “Y/n please try not to have a baby on my new seats?” Fanboy joked as he tried to keep you smiling. You knew Mickey was joking the moment he said it. He was such a good support system.
You let out such a loud moan that you were convinced the car next to you at the red light could hear you.
“I’ll try not to Mick b-but I’m n-not going to p-promise you anythi-OH-MY, GOD! Bob, help me.” As you wailed you grabbed onto Bob's forearm and squeezed through your pain. It felt like a million more hours had passed you by before you were finally arriving at the emergency room waiting bay at the Miramar Base Hospital.
“Baby, we’re here okay, as soon as Mickey pulls up i'll help you out.” Bob kissed your temple, sweaty and hot, as you leaned into him already exhausted from the last hour and a half since your water first broke. As Bob hopped out to help you, Mickey ran up to a nurse going inside the hospital. Probably coming back from taking a breath of fresh air.
“Excuse me miss? My best friend's fiancée is in labour, she needs help.” You didn’t even register at first what he called you. You were just Bob's girlfriend, not his fiancée. You couldn’t help but scoff at yourself for thinking too much into what Fanboy had called you while you were literally about to give birth.
“What’s so funny? Bob asked. “You okay babe?” Again, no. No you weren’t okay. But Bob was just doing his best to be the support you needed right now.
“Nothing hun, just excited to meet our little girl who’s currently trying to tear me to shreds right now.” It wasn’t an exaggeration—you felt as if you were about to be split in two.
But it was about to be so worth it.
***~***~***~***~***~***~*
Three hours later:
“AAHHHH, fucking hell can’t she come any faster!” you were in so much pain at this point. You were currently bent over the hospital bed leaning your head on the bars and moving your hips around in a circular motion. Bob was being nothing but supportive, feeding you ice chips every once and a while and rubbing your lower back. He hated seeing you in so much pain. Even if you were a sweaty cracked out mess Robert Floyd still thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“You're doing great baby, I know she’s being stubborn, but she’ll be here soon.” A nervous laugh left your mouth.
“Screw you, Floyd, she’s already just like her dad, stubborn and what feels like big headed!” Bob fed you another ice chip as he ran his finger over your bottom lip as you took it from his hand.
“I’ll let that comment slide considering you're bringing our daughter into the world.” Bib moved your hair over your shoulder to gain access to your neck. His peppered gentle kisses along the side as your latest contraction subsided. Things were progressing smoothly, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
You were glistening with a layer of sweat from your contractions as your body prepared itself for birth. exhausted from the pain, you leaned into Bobs touch, his arms snake their way around your body to support your weight.
“Come on bub lets get you in bed yeah?” Bob moved the covers back and you slid in slowly, almost scared that any movement you made could trigger your next contraction. As Bob was placing the thin blanket over your legs the nurse came in to check on your process.
“You’re about eight centimetres dilated honey, we can start to push at ten so your very close.” You almost didn’t respond. You were far too tired to think as you rolled over onto your left side as another contraction washed over you. Bob noticed you struggling to breathe and placed the oxygen mask they nurse had previously set up for you on.
Bob pushed your hair back and tied it up in a loose ponytail, he was just trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You looked at him. He was so perfect, you couldn’t imagine going through this amount of pain for anyone else. He was your biggest supporter, your best friend, your therapist. You were his soulmate, his biggest Stan, his number one girl. From the moment you met Robert Floyd you instantly gravitated to each other, a wonderful flirtatious friendship which bloomed into a beautiful relationship complete with all its perfect imperfections.
He would stop by the small coffee shop on his way to work every morning and you’d be there, with his order ready to go and made to perfection.
At this point, you were coming close to your three-year anniversary, your gift to Bob? Telling him you were pregnant. The poor guy almost had a heart attack but was ecstatic, to say the least.
You caught yourself reminiscing and focused back on Bob “I love you so much.” You mumbled into the mask. He smiled back at you letting out a chuckle.
“You won’t be saying that in a few moments baby.” Bob was already prepared for the worst. You were always the nicest out of the two of you and that was saying something. You felt your whole body tighten at the feeling of what felt like the most painful contraction yet and that was it, you couldn’t hold in the cry that you let out. It was a guttural scream as you tried to breathe through it the best you could.
Bob’s face filled with heartache as he watched the women he loved unconditionally go through agonising pain, he’d give his life to ease your pain just the slightest bit, yet there was absolutely nothing he could do to help. And it killed him.
“Babe, I’m going to get the nurse okay.” He started to move away but you pulled him back by his arm. “Honey—“
“Don't you dare leave me, Robert Floyd, I n-need you here now.” Your eyes filled with tears as the light layer of sweat turned into dripping beads. Just as Bob turned back to say he’d be right back you felt a sudden urge to push.
“Bob, I need this baby out of me right now! I can’t do this anymore!!” Sobbing, you screamed out in pain just as the nurse ran in.
“Darling I heard you from the reception, do you feel like you need to push? She said as she sat down on the swivel stool and rolled herself in between your legs at the end of the bed.
“YES! YES, I need this fucking thing out of me NOW!” You felt bad for Bob at this point. He was just standing there holding your hand as you endured the most amount of pain he’d ever seen someone go through. He must have pressed the call for help button moments prior as three other nurses ran into the room.
“Okay Y/n on the count of three I want you to push for me, can you do that? Dad, I want you to count down from ten for me out loud okay? Y/n don’t stop pushing till he’s finished counting” you nodded your head. “Okay in three, two, one push Y/n push” Bob held onto your hand a little tighter as he began to count down from ten, you pushed as hard as you could.
“7, 6, 5….”
“BOB COUNT FASTER!” Screaming at the top of your lungs, you continued to push, gripping his hand as tight as you could in the process.
One—alright Y/n stop pushing, have a break, you did so well darling.” The nurse said as she inspected exactly how far along your baby was. You fell back onto the pillow, just to look up at Bob.
“Make. It. stop.” Your breathing weighed heavily on your chest. Bob looked at you with wide eyes. He felt helpless.
“I wish I could baby I’m so sorry, you're doing so well yeah? Just a few more pushes and she’ll be with us forever.” You had to push again, this time wasn’t any easier, but you knew that every second you pushed as hard as you could you would meet your baby girl quicker. That this would be over. That the pain in this moment would be worth it. That the last nine months were entirely worth it.
“I hate you, I hate so much, you did this to me.” You looked at Bob, the love of your life, almost ready to pass out. “You are never coming anywhere near me again after this.” Bob couldn’t have looked more upset. He knew you were in agony though. He knew you were just going through it.
“Don’t worry daddy, she’ll still love you after this, probably even more.” The nurse between your legs chuckled. “I hear it all the time.”
“The hell I will!!!” You interrupted the nurse making her and Bob both laugh. He was so in love with you.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
You were on your final push.
“Okay Y/n final push and your baby girl will be here, are you ready?” Drenched in sweat, completely and utterly exhausted you mumbled up to Bob who had yet to let go of your hand the entire time.
“Just get this thing out of me.” Pushing as hard as you could, a scream erupting from your throat and suddenly, the pain was just……gone. A small cry filled the room and your head hit the pillow, exhausted. A few moments passed and the nurse returned to place the newly wrapped bundle of joy onto your chest, yet to be cleaned of all the blood and gunk from inside you. But oh she was perfect just the way she was.
“Oh, oh hi little one I’m your mama.” Tears of joy streamed from your eyes as you looked at your baby girl for the first time. She was perfect, everything you could have imagined and more.
“She so tiny, hi baby girl, I’m your daddy.” Bob whispered as he gently touched his little girl's tiny head. “Baby, you did so well, I'm so proud of you.” He kissed your forehead in thankfulness. “Thank you so much for giving me the best gift of all, thank you for giving birth to the best little girl in the world.” Bob couldn’t control his tears as he planted another kiss on your forehead. “I love my girls so much.”
“I don’t hate you, I could never hate you.” laughter escaped from both your mouths. “Here, you wanna hold her?” Bon nodded with a gentle smile that had crept across his face. You lifted your baby girl up towards Bob's strong awaiting arms, he held her so close, so gently. Your heart overflowed with happiness. He’d never let anything bad happen to her. Not to his little girl.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Two hours later
After receiving some stitches and getting cleaned up you were happily resting with your newborn on your chest getting precious skin to skin time.
“Y/n are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” At this point it felt like the whole world had seen your vagina, so you didn’t really care if Fanboy had stuck around in the waiting room for updates. Now, he stood by the window, wondering if he was crossing some invisible boundary as you tried your hand at breastfeeding.
“No Micky, I really don’t care, trust me, I’m just happy this little one is here”. Bob had gone to get you three some food, naturally asking Mickey to watch over his girls while he was gone. He was busy giving the rest of the Daggers updates on how you and your newborn were travelling.
“Hey Mick? When we arrived here this morning you said something to the nurse. It was probably an accident and I’m totally over-analyzing the situation, but you referred to me as Bob's Fiancée?” Fanboy spat the water he was drinking from one of those little plastic cups all over the room, completely shocked with the statement. Did he actually? In the whirlwind did he actually let that one slip?
“I uhhh, i-I did? Huh, that’s so weird, I honestly didn’t even notice I did that.” At this point, after having known Mickey Garcia for well over three years, you could read him like the back of your hand, you knew he was lying. But just as you were about to answer back, your baby girl started to cry, wanting to be fed.
“Here, ill leave, give you some privacy” Fanboy thought he was doing you a favour as he begun walking towards the door of your maternity room when you stopped him. You weren’t all that ready to be alone yet. What if something happened?
“Please stay Mick? I really don’t want to be alone and plus Bib would kill you if you went against his wishes and left his girl alone.” The tiny baby latched straight onto your nipple no problem. She was just perfect.
“Okay, but i'll face the window, I feel like a pervert.”
“Then don’t perv then?” Minutes later she was done feeding, You gently gave her a quick burp and asked Mickey if he could put her in her baby bed, so you could at least get a few minutes of sleep. She had after all woken you up at a crisp two thirty in the morning.
“I don’t want to hurt her, are you sure you want me to?”
“Of course I do! you’re her uncle, plus I know that we’re going to need your help a lot so you may as well start practicing now.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
You must have been out for a while, when you woke up, a smiling Robert Floyd was nursing his baby girl. Holding her close as he paced around the room.
“I'll protect you with everything I have darling, you’ll always be loved and cared for. Your mamma was my best girl, my one and only love, I didn’t think I could love another girl as much as I love her but then you came into my life and I'd happily use her as a shield to protect you.” He laughed at his own joke.
Great, the first dad joke and it was only the beginning of your forever of your lives together, you thought to yourself. A tiny cry came from the little human in his arms. “Shhh, shhh don’t wake your mama up darling, she’s been through a lot to get you here to me, she deserves her rest now my sweet, sweet girl.” Bob bounced her as he walked around the room slowly.
“We still have to pick a name for you baby, I like Lily or Sky, we can’t name you Natasha because that would give Aunty Nix too much power, and we don’t want that now do we?” You laughed, startling Bob a little that he jumped a bit.
“Sorry I scared you, but very true. If it means anything I love the name Lily.” Bobs eyes went wide as a smile grew from ear to ear.
“Did we just name our daughter?” Biting into your bottom lip you nodded in agreement. He walked over to you dawning beaming smile. Bob was completely filled with all the love in the universe for his two beautiful girls.
Bob placed Lily down onto your chest and you noticed something odd around her tiny fingers. You took a moment to process what it was. A shiny diamond ring, the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. besides your beautiful daughter.
“Bob?” Was all that fell out of your mouth before your eyes started to well for the seventh hundred time today. He brought his chair up to the side of your bed and rested his hand on the side of your face, caressing your wet check just as you had done to him back at home earlier that morning.
“Y/n will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” Bob had told Fanbky earlier that week he was planning on asking you to marry him. That why in the flurry, Mickey had let it slip.
You knew this day would come, you felt it in your heart. You loved Robert Floyd so fiercely and so tenderly and you knew he loved you just as much.
He reached out gently to place the beautiful engagement ring his grandmother had given him on your finger. And with the happiest of tears with your newborn resting on your chest, you got the chance to say yes.
“Robert Floyd, I thought you’d never ask.”
#robert floyd#top gun bob#top gun maverick#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fan fic#bob floyd fluff#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob top gun#top gun fandom#top gun fanfic#pregnancy#pregnant#tw: pregnancy
796 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wish You Were Here
Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x reader
Words: 1.2k
Warnings: Angst. Mentions of death and brief descriptions of war. Intimate flashbacks.
Summary: Sleep deprivation begins to take its toll on Will, leaving him distressed and emotional as he thinks about being back home with you.
A/N: This is sad and it hurt my heart to write but I needed to do it so I can go back to writing fluffy filth!
---
The numbers usually calmed him, gave him something sturdy and finite to focus on, but tonight they taunted him.
Each second that turned into a minute was a cruel reminder of all the ones he had spent awake, and no matter how exhausted he was and how physically ill he felt from the sleep he was being starved of, his mind and body refused it.
It had been days without more than a few minutes of rest at a time, only accumulating to a small number of hours that wasn’t enough to sustain anybody, and another wave of nausea set in as the effects of it all started to become too much.
It was moments like this that he missed you even more. The hurt in his heart turned physical, a relentless ache for you that the pains in his body couldn’t compare to.
Will sighed heavily, trying everything he could to cope with the insanity he felt over it, but it was growing to be unbearable, his limits tested like the few times they had before. He wondered as he took another deep inhale - his empty stomach filling with air - if he was waking anyone up in his distress, constantly shifting where he sat on the cold ground to try to feel even an ounce of comfort, his breathing louder than the wind howling around them, but it was stupid to think anyone else was able to slip into the solace of sleep at this point. No one was snoring and everyone was still, lacking the relaxed twitches that came when rest took control of your body, and he thought how the only members of their company who were resting peacefully were the ones going home to their families accompanied by a folded flag.
Home.
He blew out another shaky breath, closing his burning eyes so he was able to picture it in his tormented mind.
Your alarm would be about to go off, the early dawn still covering your bedroom in darkness right before the sun appeared to kiss your skin with its orange glow instead of his lips, your side of the bed cold as your body favoured his spot to be the one that was kept warm. You would no doubt have one of his t-shirts on and your head would be on his pillow, gripping it tightly as if it was him, trying to capture a bit of him that was left behind from the last time he was there with you.
Will found a little relief in these thoughts, knowing you were safe and out of harm's way, although he wasn’t not naive enough to think you weren’t spending each moment worried and anxious for his safety.
Another inhale, slower this time, eyes still screwed shut as if the tighter he closed them the further he would be from this brutal reality.
He can hear the hum of the fan that sits on your dresser and is aimed at your bed, the sound ingrained in his mind from keeping both of you cool in the humidity night after night, and he can almost smell the scent of your heated skin, the familiarity of it making his mouth water, the desperation he feels to be able to hold you making him want to smile and scream all at once.
Fuck, he wished you were here.
Will flashed open his eyes. No. He couldn’t dream of placing you in this hell and exposing you to all the evil he had witnessed.
He shifted his legs, closing his eyes again as tears sprung up in them, the wet boots on his feet feeling more intolerable than usual.
Another inhale, then exhale.
He sighed again, imagining he’s back in your room, crawling into fresh sheets after showering, tangling his naked limbs with yours, your fingertips dancing up and down along his arm and back and softly over his face until his breathing continues to happen without him thinking about it and his mind is temporarily void of all he holds onto.
In the distance, the boom of an air raid sounds, rumbling and shaking the ground with a trembling force, bringing him out of his dream.
His muscles felt incredibly heavy, beyond tired and depleted of any strength, and he replaced the reasons why they were with how wonderful his body always felt after pouring every bit of energy he had into loving you, the satisfaction in expending all of his power into your pleasure comparable to nothing else.
A stray tear rolled down his cheek as his breathing grew quicker, thinking how he would do just about anything to be with you right now, even for the briefest of moments. Everything was more tolerable when he was with you, no demons too big to face, the strength you had admirable and extended over to him by simply being in your proximity. Sleep was something that never came easy to him, but at least when he was with you he was engulfed in a comforting embrace that gave him some rest and repose.
He brushed the wet away with his thumb, his heart clenching in his chest while his throat restricted, knowing if you were here you would kiss each tear away and sit quietly with him until his mind gave him some reprieve.
Will sunk his chin down into the collar of his jacket, rubbing his mouth back and forth on the material, the smell of sweat, rain and stale blood that he didn’t know was his or not filling his nostrils with a pungency he struggled to get used to.
A huff that bordered on being a laugh came from him, thinking how ironic it was that the night before he deployed he hadn’t slept either, choosing instead to spend every second he had making love to you over and over while the time was available to him, each time never enough, and he thought how he would sacrifice sleep for the rest of his life if it meant he could share nights like that with you again.
He licked his lips, trying to get some moisture onto them and rid them of the stinging, chapped feeling and then pressed them together, recalling how it felt to have them hydrated and wet from yours, imagining the sensation of your skin under them as he peppered countless kisses on your body, something he could only describe as being the closest he could ever get to heaven while he sat in the threshold of hell.
Will had vowed when he left that morning that he would never leave you again after this mission, and he would stay true to that promise, deeming it completely impossible to carry on like this while knowing everything he needed to live and survive was half the world away.
Until then, he would tick off every minute, hour and day, counting them down until he was holding you in his wearied arms again, and hoped he could at least pass some of them with sleep, the gravity of needing to be alert and focused in order to make it back to you sitting heavily on his shoulders.
He untucked his arms from across his chest, tugging up the sleeve on his left one to check his watch, feeling a little more hopeful that he was one hour closer to that goal.
---
Comments and reblogs are the lifeline of fanfic, so if you enjoyed reading this story, please consider sharing your thoughts with me and others! 💗
Taglist:
@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls
@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90
@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989
#will miller#will miller x reader#triple frontier#charlie hunnam#will miller fic#will 'ironhead' miller#william miller#william 'Ironhead' miller#triple frontier fic#charlie hunnam characters
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Found Home
Part 4
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)
Implied relationship
Notes: Spellchecked? No. I'm tired.
Azul
"The Boss"
Yuu knows that kids like any person require patience and she has patience. But her nightly struggles with Grimm were more than the average parent.
Grimm didn't like water, baths especially. In the past, he had never even had hot water. He didn't like undressing either and being exposed to open air. Also understandable. Bath time was a perfect storm of things he hated and every time Yuu tried to give him one he'd cry until she let him out.
Every time Yuu's heart would break because she felt like a monster. She tried every tactic to help him learn that baths were fun. Toys, bubbles, music, games, and every recommendation she could him. She bought special bath shorts so Grimm could avoid being naked and she tried showers. But it was all the same so Yuu could only wait out every crying fit and hope that he'd adjust.
She needed to call the doctor again and hope they know something else she could do.
After fighting Yuu while she bathed him Grimm was wrapped in a big fluffy towel. Grimm became very needy after his bath and Yuu had to hold him until he felt better and was ready for his last nap of the day before dinner.
All he wanted to do was visit an old friend. That was all but he could do without the entourage.
Azul Ashengrotto had gone on to do bigger and better things after graduation as if there was any doubt. He currently owns and runs a chain of successful restaurants and bars. Not alone of course Jade was head chef to master chef of the restaurants for his signature dishes. Floyd was head of security at the bars at first but has since established a private network of hired protection while he runs a few clubs.
"If you wanted to give her a gift make it a ring." Jade grinned wryly.
"You know why you shouldn't just give a woman a ring. Especially not after not seeing her for so long." Azul sputtered in response.
"Why not I gave her one back in school?" Floyd laughed.
"It was a prize you got from a snack box and it broke an hour later when she hit you for biting her," Azul said deadpan.
Floyd just laughed.
Azul had brought a gift. Something special.
"Zuzu look!" Yuu pulled him by the arm to a shop window.
They were visiting the city one weekend for lunch at a new café. They had decided to go window shopping and enjoy a bit of sun.
Azul remembered how beautiful she looked that day in a blue sundress. A passerby would guess they were a couple from the flush of their cheeks.
"Isn't it pretty?" She said peering inside.
"Yes. Yes." Azul said not listening and was too focused on her.
"You aren't listening!" Yuu narrowed her eyes at him as she held his arm tighter.
"Sorry, sorry." Azul tried to calm her. He joined her and saw what she wanted.
It was a sculpted piece of white jade that was etched with silver.
Azul immediately wanted to get it for her but froze when he saw the price.
"You want it?" He asked.
"What?! No, no." She said but the disappointment in her tone was clear "It's just a hunk of stone besides look at me, I wouldn't even know what to do with something fancy like that."
Azul wanted to object but Yuu pulled him along back on their walk. She didn't need something she couldn't have.
Azul had gone back to that shop after he saved enough money to buy that jade. He was going to give it to her before she left but when ge came back and she was already saying her goodbyes he chickened out.
That jade stayed with him on his desk. A symbol of what he wanted to achieve. Every day was a reminder that if had more he could have bought it then and there just because she looked at it. He'd give her anything she wanted.
The group rounded the corner and stopped at a small villa that had a mailbox with Yuu's last name on it.
Floyd didn't hesitate to begin ringing the doorbell repeatedly while pounding the door. It was like he wanted to make Yuu mad.
"I swear if it's that bit-I mean neighbor, I'm going to shove my foot so far-" Yuu grumbled from the other side of the door not bothering to keep quiet.
When Yuu finally opened the door everyone froze in place.
Yuu was dressed in her usual casual jeans and shirt, her hair was tied up to keep tiny hands from pulling it. In one arm she balanced a bundled-up blanket that held a half-asleep toddler. She was right in the middle of getting Grim to sleep.
Yuu was in shock as she looked at the familiar trio. We're the twins always this tall? Did they get taller? Azul too? She doesn't remember.
But she remembered that face. That angular nose, cute rounded cheeks from remnants of baby fat, and the handsome mole that gave him an air of sophistication. She knew that face very well. It changed some. Few new moles had appeared but his face never lost the soft rounded beauty she adored.
Yuu and Azul stared at one another in shock. No one said a word as-
"Shrimpy!"
Nevermind, Floyd was already breaking the tension.
Yuu was quickly swept up in a hug as she tried to hold Grim away from the bone-crushing hug. Jade saw his chance immediately as he gracefully plucked the bundle from her arms.
"Oh, my~ Azul look at what our dear Prefect made." Jade pulled at the blanket to reveal the face of the wiggly boy. "Isn't it cute?"
Azul didn't know how to feel about IT. It bearly had any resemblance to Yuu, it didn't even have her eyes. Azul narrowed his eyes as Jade marveled at the child. Azul poked at a few of the curled locks on the boy's head.
Responding to his touch the boy's eyes opened revealing a pair of round wide eyes. His lips twisted into a pursed frown as he tried to wiggle out of Jade's arms.
"It's Yuu's child?" Azul asked seeing do little of her.
Yuu managed to break out of Floyd's grasp and immediately tried to get Grimm back as Jade held him above her grasp.
"Jade I swear if you think this is funny-" Yuu growled but had no heat behind it.
Floyd immediately gravitated towards Grimm.
"Shimpy made a Shimplet!"Floyd rejoiced has he held up the sleepy toddler who was now whining.
"Floyd be careful, he gets fussy when he's sleepy" Yuu warned but it was already too late.
Grimm had had enough. With little warning, Grimm sank his teeth into Floyd's forearm. Biting was a form of communication at that age after all and Grimm was saying he's done with this.
"Shrimpy, I love him!~" Floyd was absolutely glowing as he swung Grimm around before hugging him.
Grimm switched tactics as he went for Floyd's cheek, bit down and pulled.
"He likes me!" Floyd cheered as Jade tried to get Grimm to unlatch and feeling a bit jealous.
"Grimm no, we don't bite, we use our words. These are guests and my friends." Yuu admonished her son.
Grimm immediately let go as Jade pinched his jaw open. He puffed out his cheek and began kicking at the man holding him hostage.
"Grimm, your mother asked you to use your words," Azul said firmly enough to get Grimm's attention but not enough to scare him.
This actually made Grimm stop his assault and look ashamed.
"Down!" Grimm yelled not bothering with please since his tormentors weren't polite either.
Floyd reluctantly let go of Grimm. The boy immediately fled for his mother and hid behind her leg.
Yuu was impressed. Azul managed to get through to Grimm.
Azul on the other had seen the resemblance now. Grimm was very bit of a fighter like his mom. But Grimm also reminded him of himself when he was that age. He remembered meeting his future step-father at that time.
"Um, how about you guys come in? I just started dinner."
Getting the Tweels to leave Grimm alone long enough to nap was harder then she thought. Thankfully Jade was more than willing to show Yuu his culinary skills.
Azul shifted from checking out the house to helping where he could. He was glad to know there was no one else in the picture but felt a small pang of guilt. He didn't have his own father in the picture and he lacked confidence without that influence in his life. Azul had a great mother who did her best without the dead weight around. He was sure Yuu was doing fine but Grimm could use a father figure.
Floyd was enjoying watching Grimm sleep. He was still fascinated by his new little Fry. But he was also getting bored.
As the food simmered Azul and Yuu got some time alone as Jade eagerly joined Floyd Grimm's room.
The pair drank tea in silence before Azul finally spoke.
"So Grimm? That's a name." Azul started awkwardly.
'Of course, it's a name! She wouldn't have used it if it wasn't a name!' His brain screamed.
"Ha, yeah. I had a long list of names I wanted to use but none of them stuck. He name was almost Azure..." Yuu decided to shut up now before she dug that hole further.
"Azure, that's cute. I always wanted to use that one when I had a kid." Azul smirked.
The hole is getting deeper.
"I wanted to give you something actually. I wanted to give it to you for a while now." Azul blushes a purplish tone. Something Yuu missed seeing.
Azul pulled out a small box that for a second Yuu thought was for a ring and felt her face burning. Instead, it was a necklace. The pendant was made from two interlocked rings of jade. One ring was white jade with silver engraving and the other was blue jade with gold engraving. It was beautiful.
"I love it. How did you-" Yuu gasped.
"I remembered that it was your favorite stone." Azul took the necklace from the box and helped Yuu put it on. "It suits you."
Yuu smiled as they went back to talking about their new lives and what's changed.
"Boss, check out this book Shrimplet showed us. This guy looks just like you!" Floyd yelled dashing down the stairs.
Wow, this hole is deep!
"So the Princess asked the merfolk to help her but they won't do anything. So her friends go to this sea witch to get help from them but instead of asking for help, they ask for what they want. The witch enslaves them because they are slaves to their desires but the irony is that so is the witch. The princess made a deal with the witch at the end but tricked her way out and infuriated the witch who tried to curse them all. In the end the Princess won over the witch by showing them how unfair they were being and that success doesn't doesn't come at the expense of others." Yuu explained the plot of the book as she hid the pictures.
"I see," Azul crossed his arms "Sounds familiar."
Wow, can't see the the top of this hole anymore.
"Artistic license," Yuu said deadpan. "Oh, wow! I think dinner is ready! Let me go check!"
Yuu tried to escape as Azul pulled her right back.
Tag List:@kamisatoaiko@professionalreblogs@kai200x@lianreine@loivre@jackalope08@code-roevember@growingupnrealizing@ryxmix@rainbowcake1212@blazestar0525@botswanasvetlana@shrimpyfishyy@imasimpsowhat06@nooneknows8976@utaubara@springdrop-701@ayachansan@otomyoli@savanaclaw1996@who-mst@cloudy51@siren-serenity@ehjane@glacticrose@bontensbabygirl@morokumi@rincommittedarsin@queen-shiba@night-shadowblood-writes2@colombia-chan@canubringmeacokepls@mikk-o@twistedcece@kbar1013@dreamlessnight@spritofthesea@angelicupiid
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland yuu#twst yuu#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto x reader#twisted wonderland azul x reader#azul x reader#twisted wonderland azul#twst jade#jade leech#jade leech x reader#twst floyd#floyd twisted wonderland#floyd leech#twisted wonderland floyd#floyd leech x reader
746 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soundproof (a Trolls fanfic)
Summary: John Dory reveals that Rhonda is soundproof, and that little bit of information sits quite well with Poppy and Branch **Rated M**
A/N: 😏
__________________________________________
It was precisely three things that were serving as a distraction to Branch that night.
One was the incredibly delicious marshmallows in his hands, plopped into his mouth every few minutes so that he could experience its chewy, fluffy goodness in between the songs that he and his brothers were harmonizing to. Another was Poppy, sitting across him from the campfire alongside her sister Viva. Her deep, fuschia eyes - sparkling with the reflection of the crackling orange flames - remained trained to his blue whenever she spared a glance his way, letting him know by the intense gaze that there was something other than flames crackling between them.
Tension.
And it was one that was continuing to build as the evening progressed, all because of a small tidbit of information that was so graciously dumped upon them during the idle conversation among the group of friends. The information in itself being the third distraction.
Patience was not proving to be a virtue, however, and he and Poppy had to be pulled out of their dazed infatuation with one another several times - Viva nudging her sister with a giggle and Floyd nudging Branch wearing his own little smirk.
After what did feel like hours of happily enduring laughter, songs, stories and other shenanigans that could only ensue among siblings, the first yawn finally was emitted, coming out of Floyd. It in turn caused everybody else to realize just how tired they were, too. So when the other yawns and tired stretches followed suit to confirm it was true, Branch nearly felt like pulling his brother in for a hug. His favorite bro had come to his aid, even if he may not have known it! But while the fun between the seven friends had just concluded, the heated glint in Poppy’s eyes told him that their fun was just beginning.
Just as Branch’s thoughts began to wander somewhere ungentlemanly, John Dory’s loud voice broke through. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m bushed!” To demonstrate his point, he plopped down flat on his back upon his sleeping bag. “Guess it was pretty fun singing and roasting marshmallows after all, eh?” he chuckled after a moment.
Bruce hummed in agreement, munching on the last few in his possession. “Mmm-mmm! I gotta tell Brandy we should add these to the dessert menu,” he said, referring to his wife of whom he ran Vacay Island’s cantina with.
“Imma be the first one in line if you do that!” Clay exclaimed, exchanging a fist bump with the purple-haired Troll.
“Count me in on that, too!” Viva giggled. She too really loved marshmallows - her couch back in Putt Putt Village, in fact, was a marshmallow! And only now did it really occur to her to wonder how in the world she’d managed not to consume it for all those years living there. Shrugging it off, she turned to the gang with a large grin. “He’s right though,” she said, gesturing a thumb at John Dory. “This really was fun! I’d love for us to all hang again sometime!”
Floyd nodded his head, agreeing. “That would be nice.” He turned to Branch, seeking his younger bro’s opinion.
“Yeah,” the blue Troll responded, hoping he didn’t sound too breathless when he answered, his gaze still fixed on Poppy.
The Pop Queen, in a similar fashion, concurred with a little dazed “Uh-huh.”
Good nights were bid, sleeping bags unzipped, and wrappers to the Jumbo-sized marshmallow bags disposed of. As Branch went to go put out the campfire, he silently mouthed the words to Poppy that would let her know when they could get the ball rolling.
Five minutes.
He accompanied the words with hand gestures - one going forward, as though he were making the motion for the word “after,” and then another gesture tucking his hands under one side of his head, to make it look as though he were laying down to sleep. Poppy understood right away, confirming with a little wink and followed by a half-lidded gaze that made a tingle go down his spine. He tried to ignore it as he laid down in his sleeping bag, for the sake of surviving those next five minutes without her in his arms already, but found he couldn’t. Poppy’s effect was too strong, and the desires manifested themselves in delicious fantasies for what he ached to do with her. Fantasies of which would soon become a reality.
Branch lay until he was sure that he heard the sounds of heavy cadences of breathing and light, steady snoring. He waited an extra thirty seconds or so afterwards, just to be extra sure and, upon hearing no signs of activity, allowed himself to rise up and out of his sleeping bag, careful to take the utmost caution in not making any noise whatsoever.
Poppy, also having waited the allotted time, made to get out of her sleeping bag, too. In her haste to reach Branch’s side, she accidentally crunched on a dry leaf, the crinkling noise resounding around them. Both froze. With this number of Trolls snoozing in the vicinity, someone was bound to stir. And stir someone did.
Clay shifted in his bag, and Branch held his breath, fully expecting his older brother to blink his eyes open and catch the two of them sneaking off. But to his relief, the lime-green-haired Troll drowsily mumbled something about tax evasion and then snuggled back into his blanket. Poppy met her boyfriend’s eyes and scrunched her shoulders, a little blush tinting her cheeks and a quiet giggle escaping her. Branch rolled his eyes playfully, and simply extended his hand for her to take, a little smirk on his face. She squeezed it softly as he tugged them along, padding against the soft dirt floor underneath them to reach their destination. Once they got just outside of JD's beloved caterbus pet, he released from her grip, bringing his hand up to her face so he could pull her in for the kiss he'd been dying to share with her. Poppy obliged him willingly, parting her lips slightly to deepen it. He pulled away with some reluctance after several seconds, resting his forehead against hers. Branch’s voice was hushed and eager when he spoke, finally addressing that one point of crucial information in the earlier conversation that had been so easily glossed over by the others, even his brother - JD - himself, who had revealed it.
"Do you really think that Rhonda is completely soundproof?"
The question itself wasn't so crude, but for the purpose that he was asking it made his cheeks grow warm. He couldn't help but think back to the time when John Dory had made the very confident-sounding claim that Rhonda was waterproof, but it hadn't turned out to be so.
Poppy however didn't seem bothered, and snickered. "I mean, even if she isn't, I'm sure she'll make sure nobody bothers us. Won't you, girl?"
Branch gave a short gasp when he felt a rumble of a trill behind him in response, only coming to just realize that Rhonda had been awakened and was panting happily at the couple. She wagged her stumpy green tail, seeming to have understood what Poppy had said and more than willing to be of help.
Branch still looked a little bit uncertain, suddenly rethinking this little venture. Even with as much as he wanted this to happen, would it be wise?
"Poppy," he said, pausing to think of what he was going to point out to her first. That perhaps they shouldn't be partaking in these type of activities within a caterbus that was not theirs? With not one, nor two, or even three or four, but FIVE other Trolls who had the chance of waking up and catching them in the act? And what kind of mess would they leave behind on the bed? Branch couldn’t imagine the embarrassment that he would have to face if confronted by John Dory for anything that was leftover upon the sheets….
But Poppy was quick to already reply. And reply she did. "Brrranch…" His name was a teasing growl, the ‘r’ drawn arousingly as she opened Rhonda's side door, batted her lashes and gingerly stepped foot inside.
Branch sighed. That's it.
In a move that suddenly startled her, he swept in, hauling her up and off her feet and hoisting her in a bridal carry that had her doing her best to not squeal in surprise. As he toted her into the caterbus, he hoped Poppy wasn't prepared to sleep.
Because Branch sure wasn't.
__________________________________________
A loud, thumping in the night is what awakened him.
Floyd startled, a little groggy as he registered that it was still pitch black, the morning not broken through yet. He attempted to shut his eyes again and doze off, but a sudden rumbling in his stomach caught him off guard, letting the magenta-haired Troll know loud and clear that it was hungry.
One midnight snack will do, he thought. Or... whatever time it is. Floyd had no way of knowing in particular what hour it was. It could very well be past midnight, or just a few minutes before the crack of dawn. He went back and forth reasoning which of the two it could be as he made his light, tip-toeing steps towards Rhonda. JD had lots of goodies packed in his fridge and cabinets, so there was bound to be something to sedate him.
As his hand reached for the knob of Rhonda's door, prepared to turn, he stopped short at the sound of the thumping again, more pronounced. Floyd blinked. Was that coming from inside of the caterbus? He strained to listen, and heard a rapid creaking noise, as though springs were being pressed down upon over and over, accompanied with a long, drawn noise of some sort. A moan, he realized, the longer he had his ear perked to attention.
Wait a minute... He thought he recognized that voice. Was that… Poppy? Floyd blinked. Why? Had something happened to her? He glanced over to where the other Trolls had been sleeping, seeing for the first time that her sleeping bag was indeed empty...
...And so was Branch's.
Suddenly, the magenta Troll's brain began to put two and two together, the cogs shifting in his brain right as another thumping was heard, and a new moan that bore a resemblance to the name of his youngest bro resonated.
Something had happened to Poppy all right. But it wasn't anything bad.
It was…
They were...
“Oh!” he gasped. Floyd suddenly felt blood rush to his face, his appetite vanishing entirely and his stomach turning queasy. He hurriedly turned his heel, trying to dash as quickly as he could back to his sleeping bag before he had an accident, but failing as he tripped over one of his brothers.
"Ow," a drowsy mumble came from Bruce, and he began to sit up and rub his eyes at the disturbance. "Floyd? Dude, what's going on?"
Floyd waved his hands in a panic. "No! Bruce, go back to sleep. Please!"
"Huh?" Bruce cocked his head. "What are you talking abou - " His sentence was cut off by the sound of a shout, one that sounded an awful lot like their youngest brother. More thumping followed, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, clueless for a second, until realization dawned upon him. "Ohhhh," he said, cracking a smile once his thoughts were confirmed upon seeing the lack of Branch and Poppy in their respective sleeping bags. Rhonda affirmed it further, cutting her narrowed eyes at him as if daring him to try and intrude the private moment. So that's what they were up to. Bruce shook his head, fondly remembering a time when he and Brandy were younger, and would get up to their own share of frisky business. "Well, I'll tell you one thing for sure," he told Floyd, "If there was ever any doubt that Branch isn't a man, there certainly isn’t one now."
Two responses met the purple-haired Troll. One was another loud moan coming from the caterbus. The other was a groan of dismay from his magenta-haired brother.
"Didn't John Dory say she was soundproofed?" Floyd whimpered in mortification, pointing at Rhonda.
Bruce laughed. "Bro, Rhonda's not soundproof. JD just sleeps like a rock. See?" The brothers looked over at their eldest bro who indeed looked like a content stone just laying there. Un-rock-like though, he snored, drooling some from the side of his open mouth.
Of course, Floyd thought with a roll of his eyes. He cast a worried glance at Bruce. "Okay, but, um, what should we do? I'd love to go back to sleep, but not if I'm going to listen to… um… to…" He tried to think of the right word to describe what was happening without outright saying it, but found he didn't have to. He grimaced when Poppy cried out, making him shudder. "To that," he finished.
Bruce understood and patted a hand reassuringly on Floyd’s shoulder. "Not to worry, bro. I got you covered. Here, gimme your hand." Floyd extended his palm out, and Bruce reached into his hair, pulling out a couple of small objects.
Floyd was perplexed when he realized what it was. "Gumdrops?" he asked.
"Hey, I know they're delish, but they're also 100% soundproof, guaranteed."
Floyd narrowed his eyes, unable to help feeling skeptical. "You sure?"
Bruce nodded. "Yep! Trust me, I stuff them in my kids' ears every night right after they've gone to sleep, in case the wife and I ever get in the mood. So far, they haven't been disturbed a peep!"
Floyd felt his stomach lurch and then nodded. “Okay! Alright, I’ll take them.”
Bruce chuckled, putting his own gumdrops in his ears and snuggling back down. He dozed off once more, and Floyd soon after, the magenta-haired Troll relieved that true to his brother’s word, he heard nothing but the sound of silence.
__________________________________________
Poppy found the brilliant sun the following morning a perfect compliment to the equally sunny attitude she had. She stretched, recomposed herself, and took a great big whiff of the fresh air once she stepped out of Rhonda. Right as she began to replay the events of the previous night, she felt a pair of hands slink around her waist, belonging to the Troll she’d shared the wonderful experience with. She giggled a little as his caress lightly tickled her sides, and she turned to face him, bestowing a quick peck upon his lips.
“Morning,” he whispered.
“Morning,” she replied. She licked her lips with a little hum, noting the flavor he’d left behind on them. “I take it coffee's brewing?” she asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” he confirmed, tipping his messy-haired blue head back towards Rhonda. “Want a cup?”
“In a little bit,” she said. “Think I’m gonna stretch my legs out here a bit first. I’m, uh… still a bit sore.” She admitted it with a blush that made Branch chuckle.
“All right.” He better adjusted his leafy vest to conceal the purplish mark on the base of his neck, bruise-like in appearance if not for the indentations indicative of teeth, if one were to look closely enough - evidence of the Pop Queen’s handiwork, no doubt.
They exchanged another sweet peck, and then Poppy was off at her sister’s side in a couple of wobbly bounds.
“Wakey, wakey!” she chirped, shaking her shoulder.
Viva gave a short yawn and grinned when her sights set on her sister. “Hey, you!” she giggled, throwing her arms around her for a hug. Taking note of her messy pink hair and worried she’d tossed and turned through the night, Viva questioned her. “You sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” Poppy replied. Better than okay, actually, she added silently, remembering Branch’s arms around her and how expertly they’d handled her.
“Oh, good!” Viva breathed out. “Um, you do know your leg warmers are inside out, right?”
Poppy grinned sheepishly when she realized her sister was right. But she couldn’t help be disoriented, not after the way Branch made her so drunk on his love. She shrugged, grateful when Clay’s awakening interrupted them.
“Ah, man, I had the best dream ever!” he declared as he stretched, sitting up in his sleeping bag.
Viva rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the one where you’re drinking hot cocoa and finishing everyone’s taxes, is it?”
Clay raised a hand. “Guilty, and quite happy to be found so!” he laughed.
Viva chuckled and turned to her sister. “That’s Clay for ya!”
Poppy shook her head with a little grin and then spotted Floyd and Bruce. “Hey, guys!” she called. “Branch is at the caterbus brewing some coffee. Want some?”
Poppy then witnessed something peculiar. At the mention of their youngest bro, Floyd’s eyes widened and he exchanged a look with Bruce. The purple-haired Troll calmly replied for the two. “I’ll take a cup, Poppy, but I think Floyd’s gonna pass. He was a little sick last night, and he’s still not up to par just yet.”
Poppy’s eyebrows creased in worry. “Oh, no! Really?” She looked to the magenta-haired Troll for an answer.
“I’ll be fine,” Floyd squeaked, clearing his throat afterwards in hopes that nobody would question him further for his strange behavior. Attention was drawn from him when John Dory leapt upon his feet, bright eyed and bushy tailed.
“Wassup, fam!” he cried, snapping his fingers. “I don’t know about you all, but I slept like a baby! A baby Branch that is.” He chuckled at his own joke, until the voice of his youngest brother stopped him.
“I thought I told you to refrain from calling me that!” Branch grumbled as he stepped towards them, sipping a cup of coffee.
“I was just playing, bro.” His expression then switched to a serious one. “For real though, dude, are you all right?”
Branch looked at him with confusion. “What’d you mean?”
John Dory exhaled. “Huh, I dunno if I was dreaming or something, but I coulda sworn I heard some screaming from you last night. And y’know, come to think of it, you too, Poppy!” JD scratched his head. “Were y’all having nightmares or something?”
In that instant, Poppy felt all the color rush to her face. Branch gagged midsip of the coffee he was drinking, and Floyd moaned, a hint of green tinting his face as he rushed into the bushes to heave what was in his stomach.
“NIghtmares!” Poppy laughed. “Nightmares he says!” She laughed until she felt herself grow light-headed, and then faint.
Not in much of a better state, Branch stood, frozen in shock and unresponsive to his surroundings, blue eyes open wide but unseeing.
“Uhhh… I feel like I missed something here,” JD said, puzzled.
Clay and Viva murmured their agreement as the former waved a hand in front of his little bro’s face and Viva fanned Poppy, who was still splayed on the ground.
“I didn’t,” Bruce mumbled.
JD’s head shot towards him. “What?”
“Nevermind,” the purple-haired Troll quickly said, plastering a nothing-is-wrong grin on his face. “Now, who wants gumdrops?”
#trolls#trolls 3#trolls band together#dreamworks#broppy#branch trolls#poppy trolls#brozone#john dory#spruce trolls#clay trolls#floyd trolls#viva trolls#fanfiction#kittyball writes#grown up stuff fanfiction#100+
170 notes
·
View notes
Note
harvey fic request! :) maybe they get in a spat about harvey getting jealous or a miscommunication but then they fix it and then super fluffy
Hiiii!!! Thank you so much for the request and I'm so so so so sorry it took so long for me to continue writing here. Life been tough but here I am. Enjoy❤️
The Greenest
When Harvey received a phone call from Mike, he was happy, to say the least. But upon hearing what he had to say, Harvey sighed. There was this charity in Seattle, and both Mike and Rachel invited him. Harvey dodged the question by saying that he had to ask his wife. It wasn't that Harvey didn't want to donate his money for a good cause, but he rarely spent time with his wife now. He just wanted to stay home and do absolutely nothing with his wife in his arms. He could just write a check for it and make up some excuse later.
Harvey got home to Pink Floyd blasted through the house. He couldn't help but hum along with the song. It would be useless, he thought, to call out for his wife. He found her in their bedroom, a few dresses draped on the bed as she stood in front of her kingdom of shoes. "Are we going somewhere?" Harvey asked casually as he took off his suit. She jumped at his voice, eyes wide. "You scared the living hell out of me," she said, reaching for her phone to turn down the volume of the speaker. "Well, I suggest you shouldn't give your husband a spare key, then." Harvey rolled up his sleeves as he observed the dresses. "We're going somewhere?" Harvey asked again. "Oh yes! Mike and Rachel invited us to this charity gala. It's for abused women and children. Can you imagine?" Harvey watched as his wife's face scrunched in sadness. He swore this woman wouldn't even hurt a fly. "It's in Seattle?" Harvey asked again as she earned an eager nod. Well played, Mike, Harvey thought. Going straight to his wife. Well played. "We sure can come, yes?" Harvey looked at his wife, knowing damn well it wasn't a question. He nodded and smiled.
Harvey's favorite thing to do whenever he went out with his wife was to watch her get ready. He watched his wife put on matching underwear in black, all lacey. He stole a glance at his watch as his brain raced at the possibility of tempting his goddess of a wife for a little fun activity. "Don't think about it, Harvey." His wife scolded him as she watched him from the unreasonably huge mirror in their hotel room. "Think about what?" Harvey asked, pretending to be clueless. "Think about taking off my underwear, bending me over, having your way with me, being late, and what excuse should you give Mike for being late?" Harvey smirked at the sultry way his wife said it. "We've been in this dance before, Harvey. I will not fall for it again. Now, why won't you be a nice gentleman and zip my dress?"
"Jeez, Harvey. Didn't you arrive at the hotel yesterday? This whole thing started an hour ago!" Mike scolded Harvey, who gave him a knowing look. "Seriously?" Mike gave him a disgusted look, and not long after, his wife came along. Mike hugged her and thanked her for coming. He then managed to explain this charity he and Rachel are now part of. He also said it would be good for the charity to know two successful New York lawyers are here, siding with the charity. It just meant more money for the charity. Which was great.
Not long after, Rachel came, and she gave them brief hugs. She managed the whole event, so Rachel was running around as she made sure that nothing went awry. The three of them were having a good time. They talked about what was going on in their lives. Harvey probably would have to admit that this wasn't an entirely bad idea to come. Mike nudged Harvey, "There, that's the city attorney. Let's put that pretty face to good use." Harvey looked back at his wife, signaling for her to come along. "I need to go to pee; I'll look for you later." Harvey smiled at her as he followed Mike.
Harvey just realized that his wife was never to find him. It had been 20 minutes; surely she didn't need that long. Harvey tried to look around. He squinted his eyes at the sight of his wife, who happened to look way too comfortable with a man he had never seen before but was somewhat familiar. A man her age. Harvey frowned as he hurriedly excused himself. He made a beeline to where his wife stood but slowed down his pace when he was near. "Oh Jackson, you know how it is in New York," Harvey heard his wife laugh not long after. "Well, then maybe you should consider moving here." Before he could hear what his wife's reply would be, Harvey stood beside her, an arm wrapped around her hip. Harvey didn't miss the way this Jackson guy's eyes followed where Harvey's hand rested. "Won't you introduce us, sweetheart?" Harvey asked a rhetorical question. She sensed something wasn't quite right with Harvey's attitude. "Jackson, this is Harvey, my husband." Harvey extended his free hand. "Harvey, this is Jackson ...." Before she could finish her sentence, he jumped in. "I'm her ex-fiance," Jackson said, shaking Harvey's hand. Harvey gave him a curt smile. "Who would have thought that Harvey Specter is your husband?" Jackson said to her, but his eyes never left Harvey's. Again, before she could say anything, Harvey said, "What can I say, Jackson? I'm immaculate, and my wife has an immaculate taste." They looked at each other for quite some time, trapped in an uncomfortable silence as the two men tried to intimidate one another. Harvey then remembered that he once went against him in court. Harvey won, of course. "Well, it was nice to meet the two of you," he was about to leave when he stopped in front of her, "especially you; I'll give you a call when I visit New York." Before he left, he touched her bare arm. And Harvey was seething. Harvey took her hand to make them face-to-face. "What the fuck was that?" Harvey said, his jaw tightening. "What the fuck was that? What the fuck was what? I was just trying to get him to donate, Harvey!" Harvey scoffed, "By flirting with your ex-fiance, who suggested you move here?" She looked at him, exasperated. "We're going back to the hotel," Harvey said quietly. He took her elbow as he guided her out of the crowd. "Harvey, we are invited here to help them raise the donation," he said, shaking his head. "We're going back to the hotel." Harvey's voice left no room for argument. Before exiting the venue, she caught a glimpse of a confused Mike. She shook her head in silence before Mike became out of view.
The two of them were silent during the ride back to the hotel. "We're back now at the hotel, happy?" she said sharply as she took off her heels. "We could've helped more if you weren't being so childish and being all jealous!" She raised her voice, both hands on her hips. She looked at Harvey's back, and he poured himself some scotch. "If you weren't flirting like a high school girl, we would still be there." Venom laced his voice. He turned to face his wife. "Do I need to pack your things and send them here so you can get back with Jackson?" His wife shook her head in disbelief at his words. He finished the glass in seconds, opened the door, and slammed it hard. She sighed and prepared herself a bubble bath. There is no use in arguing with him now.
She woke up with the curtain open. She squinted her eyes. She was greeted with the sight of Harvey sitting in a chair just beside the bed. "Hey, sunny," Harvey said softly. She didn't say anything or react; she just stared at him. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely, she could tell. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did; I'm really working on my issues. She nodded, she knew he tried. "Did I hurt you?" he asked as he took her hand in his. He did so as if he might break her, so gently. "You did," she answered quietly. "I'm really sorry," he kissed her hand softly. "It's okay, Harvey. Just try to work on yourself harder, okay? I'm here ready to help if you need anything, but no more lashing out," she said as she caressed his cheeks. Harvey leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" Without answering, she moved over and signed for Harvey to lay beside her.
#harvey specter#harvey specter fanfic#harvey specter x reader#harvey specter fan fiction#suits harvey specter#harvey specter imagine#suits tv#harvey specter imagines#harvey specter suits
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
The favorite bodyparts of the Twisted Wonderland Boys
🌹Riddle Rosehearts- Riddle’s favorite body part of his partner is your lips. He loves the way they're soft and full, and how they look when you're smiling or kissing. He's a fan of how smooth and plush your lips are, and he recently found the courage to tease you by gently nibbling on them.
❤️Ace Trappola- Ace's just adores your breasts. He loves the way it feels when he rests his head on them, and how it rises and falls when they breathe. Catch him looking at you when you wear his favorite top, making your breasts look absolutely irresistible.
♠️Deuce Spade- He can’t help but adore your ears. He loves the way they're small and delicate, and how they perk up when he whispers sweet nothings into them. He often tells you how much he loves your ears, and how they're one of his favorite things to play with and kiss.
♣️Trey Clover- He’d be embarrassed to tell you, but he can’t deny it. He loves your ass. The way it’s round and plump. He adores the way it looks in tight jeans or a skirt, and how it feels when he squeezes it. He is a gentleman though, and will only play with it in private.
♦️Cater Diamond- He is totes cray-cray for your neck. He loves the way it looks when you wear necklaces, especially chokers. He knows it’s your sensitive and intimate spot, and how perfect it is to give gentle kisses and nibbles.
🦁Leona Kingscholar- He will go feral for that lower back of yours, peeking out from a pair of jeans. He loves the way it curves and dips, how it looks when you stretch or lean over. He is smitten by how you react when he holds them close from behind.
🍩Ruggie Bucchi- He is obsessed with your thick juicy thighs. As a hyena he wants a big strong woman, and nothing yells “STRONG” then a good pair of thighs. He loves the way they’re muscular and powerful, and how they can wrap around him in a tight embrace.
🐺Jack Howl- If there is one thing that makes this boy wag his tail it’s your hips. He loves the way they move when you walk or dance, and he often compliments them on your curves. He’s also a fan of how they feel under his hands when you’re cuddling together, and he often rubs them gently to help you relax.
🐙Azul Ashengrotto- It may not be a body part persé but he can’t stop thinking about your voice. The way it sounds when you laugh or sing. Oh, how it makes his heart race, especially when you call out his name. Bonus points when you moan.
🍄Jade Leech- He has a weakness for your feet, believe it or not. He loves the way they're small and delicate, and how they fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. He will gladly put on your shoes for you and is delighted when you allow him to take a little sniff.
👟Floyd Leech- He stays up late at night thinking about your tummy. He loves the way it feels under his hands, and he often rubs it when you are cuddling together. He gives it little kisses and can rest his head on it for hours, if you allow it.
🦦Kalim Al-Asim- He will tell you straight up: He absolutely loves your cheeks! The way they are so cute and fluffy and how they flush ruby red when you are feeling embarrassed. He often tells you how cute your cheeks are and how it’s one of the things that makes you so endearing and adorable to him.
🐍Jamil Viper- He can get lost in your eyes for hours. He loves the way they sparkle with intelligence and curiosity, and how they always convey so much emotion without words. Sometimes, when he’s staring in your eyes, he wonders if he’s not the only one that can hypnotize.
🪞Vil Schoenheit- He’s always been a fan of long, elegant legs. And your legs are no exception. He loves the way they look in shorts or skirts, feeling proud whenever you show them off. Especially when you wear heels. Please don’t take them off tonight.
🏹Rook Hunt- Your smell will drive him nuts. He loves the way you smell like your favorite perfume, and how it lingers on his clothes after you hug. He can’t sleep at night before taking in your scent and will give you late night visits if he hasn't got the chance to take a sniff today.
🍎Epel Felmier- He likes everything about your body, as long as it’s petite. He loves the way you’re smaller than him, finally making him feel strong and protective. He will be the bigger spoon and he can’t help but feel proud everytime you lay in his arms.
💀Idia Shroud- Your hands are the most beautiful thing to Idia. He often yearns for your touch. When you are holding his hand it makes him feel secure, like he can conquer any dungeon. He loves the way they’re so much smaller than his hands and how soft they are. Truly SSR tier hands!
🤖Ortho Shroud- There was one thing he was immediately captivated by when he first met you: your smile. The way you light up a room when you laugh, how your cheeks create dimples with the slightest touch of serenity on your face. One day he hopes to give you back a smile just as real as that.
🐉Malleus Draconia- Your collarbones are something that truly makes this dragon spit fire. He loves the way it's a subtle and delicate feature, and how it adds to your overall elegance and beauty. Make sure to cover it up from time to time, because he can’t help but leave hickeys all over them.
🦇Lilia Vanrouge- He is enamored and captivated by your hair, however you style it. The way it falls soft in waves or curls, and how it feels when he runs his fingers through it. He always finds new ways to compliment your hairdo making you feel secure and confident. But what truly drives his mind crazy is when he’s allowed to teasingly pull it while making love.
💤Silver- If he had to choose one thing about you it would be your nose. The way it looks when you scrunch it up in a cute expression. He can’t help but often boop your nose playfully. You two rub noses together as a greeting, making his stomach fill with butterflies.
⚡Sebek Zigvolt- Your back is truly something special to Sebek. Especially since you only show it to him. He showers it with kisses whenever he can and rubs it after a long day. He loves to let his fingers run over your spine, goosebumps following his touch.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fanfiction#fluff#idia shroud#malleus draconia#twst fanfiction#cater diamond#riddle rosehearts#ace trapolla#deuce spade#trey x reader#trey clover#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#epel felmier#kalim al asim#jamil viper#ortho shroud#lilia vanrouge#sebek zigvolt#silver#OMG im backkkk#Such a long and heavy month.
714 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi hi!! Thank you so much for doing this event!! TwT can I get sweet lollipops (abo friends with benefits to eventually lovers!!) with candy hearts (accidental knotting/pregnancy?) for our lovely alpha Floyd?
I hope I got that right! 💜
floyd leech x (gender neutral) reader
cw: nsfw, abo/omegaverse, knotting, friends with benefits, omega!reader, alpha!floyd, heats
note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order!
[lunar love hotel]
i. “this is just a one-time thing, okay?”
Celebrations at the Mostro Lounge are always extravagant events, luring in crowds so large the premises might resemble that of an overpacked sardine tin if it weren’t for Azul’s careful foresight. To avoid any unsavory issues, tonight’s celebration—a birthday party for a staff member—is strictly limited to Octavinelle residents and those working tonight’s shift, save for the exception that the birthday celebrant was permitted to invite friends from other dorms.
The lounge reflects this upbeat occasion, decorated in banners and streamers, confetti, and seashell-shaped light strands—all in pastel purples, blues, yellows, and pinks, colors resembling the shiny, waterlogged treasures found deep within the Coral Sea. There’s a buffet table that’s situated in the center of the room with snacks and desserts of all kinds, piled humorously high on silver platters that have not yet fallen over due to some special enchantment. Partygoers are scattered all throughout the lounge, some filling plates for themselves and others chatting around booths and in front of the massive aquarium, its aquatic illumination casting everything in cerulean hues.
You stand behind the bar drying and arranging crystal champagne flutes, a task so monotonous you’re lucky to listen in on nearby conversations to keep your brain perfectly sane. There are plenty of cloying smells that fill the lounge like helium inside a balloon, far more distracting than the scents of pastries and fruity, fizzy beverages. Your nose wrinkles at the distinctness of every alpha, omega, and beta in this room, some so robust you can practically taste them as they fog your brain with an unshakable haze.
Standing beside you, Azul works to mix and pour drinks, keeping up with each order in timely, flawless fashion. The clinking of glass and metal shakers brings you back to the present.
“You seem to be wearing quite the pensive look. A Madol for your thoughts?” Azul remarks without looking from the floor laid out before the both of you, his eyes scanning each and every partygoer, tallying them within his mind like they’re prey he’s preparing to net in one fell swoop.
You swallow a thick, awkward laugh, shaking your head to rid yourself of the cotton that’s been stuffed into your ears. Even the music spilling out of the speakers in loud, wild notes—courtesy of the birthday playlist assembled by the birthday boy and his friends—is muffled beyond comprehension, coming to you in a distant echo. You rub your shoe against the hardwood floor; it’s got a heartbeat, but that could just be because of the pounding music.
“(Name)?”
“Right. Thoughts. Madol. Yes,” you say with great haste, smacking your lips in a way that makes you look as if you’ve just tasted the air. And you are, technically, with every inhale and exhale. Amongst the many pheromones tinging the room, the ones that radiate from the alphas smell the most enticing. You blink through a sudden, all-consuming dizzy spell, head spinning. “I’m not thinking...about anything.”
Azul peers at you from his peripheral. “If you feel unwell, you’re welcome to take your break. I can handle things from here.”
“I’ll be fine...” You wipe sweat from your brow and tug at your collar. “Are you hot? It feels really hot in here.”
His brows knit together for a mere moment before a knowing glint flashes in his perceptive blues. It dawns on you, when he takes the glass from your trembling hands and sets it on the counter, that you are not as fine as you were a few moments ago. And both of you seem to have arrived at the same reason for why that might be.
“From one omega to another,” he murmurs, yet his voice sounds much clearer in this moment, “I suggest you take the rest of the night off before it catches up to you.”
You debate the suggestion, which is actually more of an order veiled within soft syllables, and you’re ready to insist you can power through it when your knees almost give out altogether when a particularly strong smell hits you. You slam your hands down upon the counter to keep your balance.
“This better not come out of my pay,” you mutter through grit teeth.
Azul barks out a laugh. “Why, I would never! We’re of the same sub-gender, after all. Naturally, we have to look out for one another.”
You try to roll your eyes, but it only makes you dizzier. You’ve done your best to ignore it so far, but now it’s impossible to not feel the slick that’s dampening your undergarments and rolling down your thighs in thick rivulets.
“Shall I send a beta to accompany you on your way back?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Azul looks like he wants to argue you on that, but instead he turns away to resume his current task. “Then I wish you a pleasant evening. Be safe.”
Pleasant, you think with bitter resentment. As if any of this is ever pleasant.
Luckily, the booming music and the absurd amount of scents within the lounge all but drowns yours out, allowing you to slip through the exit to follow the path that leads to Octavinelle's shadowed halls. The sprawling ocean looks much darker through the glass, as if it’s simply a liquid outer space or an endless abyss. Either one sounds equally terrifying. You stop your stagger-walk to lean against the cool surface, hoping to regain your sense of awareness. Shutting your eyes only makes you even more tipsy, so you press your forehead to the glass and exhale slowly.
It takes a moment for the world to stop tilting, but once it does you peel yourself away from the glass and continue to stumble onwards. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have decided to test fate when your calendar detailed your approaching heat, but that’s the least of your worries now. Not much can be done when it’s already upon you. Although you really wish it would have chosen to inconvenience you tomorrow when you weren’t set to work at the lounge.
The music is but a mere hum now, so distant it almost isn’t there, but you immediately forget about it when your shoe catches on something at the end of the hall, which sends you tumbling forwards. You land on frigid, unforgiving tiles with a harsh smack, and though the pain trickles through you it isn’t enough to distract you from the soothing scent of fresh rainfall. You blink through tears, forcing yourself to sit up, and find yourself staring into the face of Floyd Leech.
And he’s staring right back.
“F-Floyd? Didn’t you...” You inhale a deep breath, a poor move on your part because his smell encapsulates you entirely, and it almost knocks you over. “Kitchen shift... Azul put you on...food duty or...something.”
“Didn’t feel like it,” he mutters, looking bored and irritated all at once, as if your sudden arrival has disturbed his brooding in the dark. “Whatcha doin’ here? Thought you had a shift.”
You open your mouth to respond, but even that is too much for you; and so you slap your hands over your mouth, fixing him with a weak glare. Floyd’s never known just how strong his scent is, but you’ve always been able to differentiate it from the other staff members’ scents at the lounge because of how unmistakably Floyd it is. Unlike Jade, who dutifully wears scent blockers, Floyd could care less about the precautions most take to avoid any scent-related problems from cropping up. Sometimes you wish he was more like Jade, but then Jade never has any notable scent about him and that unnerves you more than the overwhelming nature of Floyd’s.
Floyd flashes his sharp teeth at you in a mocking grin. “Shrimpy looks so funny. Smells funny, too.”
You intend to put more vitriol into your glare, but his playful chuckle has you suppressing a needy, little whine. Your knuckles grow sore from how forcefully you’re clamping your hands over your mouth. If you don’t get back to Ramshackle soon, you’ll be a mess of sweat, pheromones, and slick and then that might draw unwanted attention. You attempt to stand, only to fail miserably when you sway on unsteady feet, and so you lower yourself onto your knees, glancing at Floyd’s colorful sneakers.
A breath shudders through you. The smell of rain and morning dew hangs heavy like cigarette smoke in the air. You can’t believe you’re about to verbalize your innermost desires, if they weren’t already blindingly apparent, but you can’t hold back any longer.
“Can you—” you swallow your inhibitions, far past the point of shame— “Can you help me?”
Floyd follows the length of his outstretched legs to look at you hunched over in front of him, your hands placed firmly on the floor to keep yourself from falling over.
His mismatched eyes hold mischief, but his face is neutral when he replies with: “Mmh... I guess. What do ya want help with?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you snap, and he tilts his head at you like you’re a bewildering curiosity. His acquiescence is all you really needed to hear, though, because you’re already shedding your uniform suit jacket in a breathless hurry. “Please don’t get smart right now. I just need—” You’re not sure what you need specifically, but you do know you need relief. And he’s the only alpha within reach. “I just need you to help.”
“Okaaay,” he drawls lazily, waiting there with his back against the glass. His figure is framed in the bright luminescence from the jellyfish swarming in the great depths beyond, and you crawl over his long legs and into his lap. He peers at you, amusement twinkling in his gaze. “Shrimpy’s so funny tonight!”
You admire him through the lenses unique to a heat. It’s more akin to a drunken stupor—the kind of phenomenon that makes strangers look ten times more appealing than they normally do if you’re sober—and every rugged, dangerous edge that composes Floyd suddenly seems so perfect and safe. Your fingers curl into the lapels of his jacket, and you yank him towards you, your lips mere centimeters from his. There’s no indication that he feels the same spark as you, but in this moment there doesn’t need to be any life-changing sparks. As long as he’s agreed to help you, you’ll take his assistance and nothing more.
“Floyd.”
“Shrimpy.”
“Can you...” You wiggle your hips, impatiently fumbling to shrug out of the straps of your high-waisted suspender trousers. You’re not very successful in this endeavor, so you give up with a frustrated huff. “Please touch me. D-Down there...”
“Sure thing,” he says with a nonchalance that’s frighteningly alarming.
You were certain that an omega in heat made it difficult for most alphas to focus, let alone properly function, when there were so many tempting smells and sounds coming from them. But then Floyd isn’t like most alphas. Floyd is uniquely Floyd in every possible way. He doesn’t conform to the typical standards applied to other alphas. But it does sting a little to think that, with how undoubtedly cloying your pheromones must be, he isn’t affected in the slightest. He’s not even hard, which feels like a chip in your omega pride, but you’re too frantic with lust to dwell on it.
Floyd's rough hands grab your waist and he lifts you up slightly, pressing you flush against his chest so that he can yank your trousers down for easier access. The fabric bunches halfway at your knees, but that hardly matters in the moment. You’re certain the wet spot would have been noticeable if it weren’t for the dim lighting in the hall, and you’re secretly grateful for the lack of brightness.
“T-This is just a one-time thing, okay?”
“Whatever you say.”
You’re not sure why he sounds so disinterested, but you don’t care enough to ask. And when he slides your soaked underwear to the side so that he can thrust two slender fingers up inside your dripping hole, you slump against him, gripping his shoulders like he’s the only one who can keep you afloat amidst the turbulent sea you’ve found yourself in. With your face buried in the crook of his neck, where his scent glands are so close and produce the headiest scent you’ve ever come to know, you cum with a strangled, gasping cry, slick clinging to your thighs in translucent, stringy ribbons. Floyd doesn’t say anything, continuing to curl his fingers inside tight, wet, gummy walls, which leaves you shuddering and sobbing with ecstasy.
You lick at his neck, pressing lingering kisses to every available inch, breathing in his scent as if it’s your oxygen. Your teeth prick the surface of his skin, but before you can bite down he’s grabbing your chin with his free hand and smashing his mouth against yours in a sloppy, aggressive kiss. Your teeth click against his, and his tongue flicks past your lips, searching for yours. You meet him halfway, kissing back as fervently as you roll your hips against his hand, taking a third and a fourth finger in one thrust. He’s worked you open with delightful movements, scissoring you as roughly as he kisses, and when you break away to gulp down mouthfuls of air Floyd licks his lips clean of saliva—your saliva.
You’re not sure if it was possible for you to get wetter, but you do and you reach your second—or perhaps it’s your third—climax with a squeal.
“You can put it in. Please put it in,” you mumble, mind fuzzy with one single thought: If you aren’t fucked sore and senseless right now, you might never recover from this heat. “Please, Flo... Floyd, put it in...” You palm at his crotch, satisfied that there’s now a stiffness straining against his trousers, and you reach up to slide his suit jacket off his broad shoulders. “I need it. I’ll cover your shifts for a week—no, two weeks—three weeks! Anything you want—just need you inside me...”
Floyd hums his consideration. “Don’t wanna,” he eventually says, cutting off your whiny protests with another expert curl of his fingers. “S’too much work.”
That seems to sober you a little, and though your entire body is flushed with warmth there’s an odd coldness that seeps through. You lose track of how many times you cum, but at some point you must have slipped into unconsciousness from the exhaustion of it all. When you wake, the sun’s just barely peeking over the horizon, and you’re lying in your work clothes in your room at Ramshackle Dorm. You feel and smell so filthy, covered in slick and sweat that has dried sticky on your skin, but the worst of your heat has abated for now. You know this isn’t the last of it—that there’s more to come in the next few days and that you’ll just feel so foggy-headed until the true instinctual lust hits and you’re leaking through your undergarments like a broken faucet.
Groggily, you sit up, rubbing the crust from your eyes, only to flop back down.
Bath can wait, you think, yawning. It’s way too early for that.
You feel something bunched underneath you, and for a moment you think it’s Floyd. Though you’re not sure why he immediately pops into your mind, you’re given your answer when you pull the suit jacket out from beneath you. It smells pleasantly of a rainy morning, musky and earthy, a pleasant petrichor that could only belong to Floyd.
ii. “you smell like shrimpy. ain’t that good enough?”
Floyd is an elusive force. He appears and disappears whenever he feels like it—almost like a playful poltergeist haunting a house. If he wants you to find him, you’ll find him. Today, it’s not Floyd you find when you venture through the courtyard in search of him, but rather Jade. You suppose he’s better than no one, and if you look at him from the wrong angle he becomes Floyd. So this is the best you can do in this moment. Perhaps it’s convenient you don’t have to face Floyd because you haven’t even rehearsed what you’ll say to him—if you even want to say anything to him about that night.
“I’d like to return Floyd’s jacket,” you tell him in your best professional tone, offering it to him alongside a packaged pastry.
Jade gazes at your outstretched hands. “The pastry as well?”
“Please don’t be a smart-ass.”
He hides his sharp smile behind a gloved fist. “Is there a reason you’re in possession of Floyd’s jacket?” As if to be even more irritating than he already is, he adds, “And Floyd’s pastry?”
You avoid his stare, distracting yourself with the sight of your scuffed shoes. “N-No reason in particular...”
But Jade is not the type to drop a subject he’s found interest in, which leaves him thoroughly invested in this not-so-mysterious mystery. “No reason at all?” he presses, brows raising. “If I recall, Floyd’s been left without a jacket for a week. This is merely speculation—take it with a grain of salt—but you must have been indisposed for a few days to deal with...‘personal matters,’ as Azul had called it, hence why we didn’t see you at the lounge. Is it correct to assume you may have been burdened with a certain biological inconvenience?”
“Not true! He lent it to me. Yeah, lent it to me. That’s all there is to it.”
“And the pastry?”
“Oh my—Jade, please just take your brother’s jacket. You’re killing me here.”
“On the contrary, I haven’t yet twisted the knife deep enough.”
You groan, deflating before him like a boneless fish. “You already know why I have his jacket. Don’t make this difficult.”
He chuckles; you don’t see what’s so hilarious about this situation. “Well, I was made aware of specific details, yes. What was it you had told Floyd? Ah, right. You would cover his shifts for three weeks if he—”
“Ahaa, Shrimpy, there you are!” Before you can listen to the rest of what was going to be a highly flustering sentence, Floyd crashes into you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, while you nearly topple over from the impact. Thankfully, he steadies you with strong arms. “I was lookin’ all over for you!”
“What a coincidence. So was I.” You squirm in his grasp, holding his jacket and the pastry up for his viewing pleasure. “For you.”
“So that’s where it was! Thanks, Shrimpy! Didja take good care of it for me?”
You stare at him. Did he seriously forget where his own jacket was?
“I don’t know what flavors you like, but I got this custard bread for you.”
“Huh? What for? It’s not my birthday.” The arm curled around your waist tightens its crushing grip, persuading you to admit your reasoning before he squeezes and your guts spill out through cracked bone. “It’s not even a holiday. What gives?”
“It’s for your help that night. A thank you from me to you.”
He snatches both from you, draping his jacket over his shoulder, and inspects the packaging. “Hey, this looks yummy. Thanks, Shrimpy!” He digs something out of his pocket, takes your hand, spreads your fingers, and drops it in your palm. “I also got a little somethin’ for ya.”
It’s a golden canine tooth, most likely one that came from a beastman. There’s still some blood and gum sticking to it.
“Um. Thanks?” You choke down the urge to shiver.
Floyd giggles, looking quite satisfied with himself.
Jade stares at it, unsurprised. “May I ask where you acquired this tooth?”
Floyd shrugs, releasing you from his smothering hug. “Asked some guy where Shrimpy was and he kept dodgin’ the question. Had to pull the answer right from his mouth.”
“I see.”
You stuff the tooth into your pocket, wiping your palm against the fabric of your blazer, and grin awkwardly. “I appreciate the...gift.”
You’ve never traded a pastry for a tooth before. But, hey, there are firsts for everything, right?
“You like it?! I can get more for Shrimpy! Which ones do you like best? Gold? Silver?”
“No, that’s okay. One is enough.”
One is too much, actually...
Floyd hums his contentment, the scent of rain rolling off of him in happy waves. You inhale as subtly as you can. He smells good—perhaps much better now that you’ve toed the line of intimacy with him—however emotionless it may have been—and have had an entire week to familiarize yourself with his scent. It settles your frazzled nerves, allowing you a small fraction of confidence...that immediately shrivels when you recall how he’d called your scent funny.
“Do I...” You shrug your anxieties off, forcing the question out from the confines of your dry throat. “Do I smell bad?”
Floyd looks through you rather than at you. “Never said that.”
“You didn’t say I smelled good either.” You cross your arms over your chest. “For the record, I think you smell good.”
That prompts a tiny laugh from Jade. “As riveting as your human courting techniques are, I’m afraid I must be on my way. I wish you a pleasant afternoon, (Name). Floyd, I’ll see you at dinner.”
“‘Kaaay.”
You’ve never been more glad to see him and his troublesome smirk go, and you curse him six ways from Sunday with each step he takes, until it’s just you and Floyd standing in the center of the sparsely populated courtyard.
Floyd unwraps the pastry without much decorum, taking an obnoxious chomp from it while he waits for you. Crumbs stick to his face and gather on his uniform like sugar snowfall.
“So I do smell bad.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Shrimpy,” he says around a mouthful of pastry. “You smell like Shrimpy. Ain’t that good enough?”
What in the world does ‘shrimpy’ even smell like?
You tilt your head back and forth, unsure of what to truly say. “I... Floyd, your scent really helped me. Like, a lot. And I know you probably don’t think it did, but your jacket made things way more tolerable than they usually are.”
He’s licking his fingers clean now, nodding along to what you’re saying with bright, eager eyes.
You steel yourself with it’s now or never. “My budget has been low lately, so I haven’t been able to afford suppressants for the next few months. And between attending classes, working at the lounge, and keeping Ramshackle in good shape, I can’t lose a week’s time because of my heats. So... So what I’m trying to say—what I’m trying to get at here... I guess what I really want—can we make this not a one-time thing, but a monthly thing instead? If you helped me, you could cut my heats down to just two or three days. I can buy you more pastries if you want, or I can cover your shifts. Please just help me out again. I’ll do anything.”
It feels useless and pathetic to beg, especially since you know how mercurial he can be, so sometimes it’s as though you’re speaking to an immovable wall. In fact, you might have better luck going to Azul or Jade if you really wanted—
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.” He grins. “Why not? Sounds fun.”
“So it doesn’t sound like ‘too much work’?”
“Nah. Shrimpy’s fun.” He crumples the empty packaging and stuffs it in his pocket. “And fun things aren’t work.”
“All right... If you say so.”
You aren’t going to push it any further, lest you risk annoying him and losing this chance.
iii. “most importantly, we’re just friends and nothing more.”
It’s raining today. Normally, watching gloomy weather unfold fosters unrest within you. But this time Floyd’s with you, lying sprawled in a cramped alcove in the library, all lanky limbs outstretched, while you flip through a textbook in search of anything that might give you more insight into how to cure heats or, at the very least, halt them in a way that doesn’t require expensive medicines. Floyd’s scrolling on his phone, a lollipop between his lips. He’d caught your scent on the wind and had gravitated towards it, and you’d smelled him the minute he stepped into the hallway to follow you into the library. You let him accompany you because there’s no shaking Floyd once he’s made up his mind.
With the lack of sunlight, the lighting in the library is dimmer than usual. It’s peacefully comfortable despite the rain-spattered windowpanes and the cloudy sky beyond ancient, dusty confines. You peer at Floyd from where you sit. He’s looking through an online shoe catalogue.
“Do you like shoes?”
“They’re cool,” he replies without missing a beat. “And the surface’s got lotsa cool designs and styles.”
Briefly, you glance at your worn pair in hopes that looking long enough will give you an idea for what to say next. It doesn’t work as intended, but Floyd doesn’t seem keen to continue chatting with you, his attention focused squarely on his phone screen. You return to the task at hand, skimming a few chapters on alpha and omega biology, information on betas, and even an in-depth analysis on heat and rut nuances. Nothing tells you of the panacea needed to rid yourself of your heats.
Defeated, you shut the textbook with a sigh. Floyd’s looking at you now, his phone swiftly pocketed. You slump in your seat. He smiles lopsidedly when he knows you’re watching him.
“All good?”
You nod, but your words contradict that. “I can’t find a cure for heats and it’s a little frustrating.”
“Why do you wanna cure ‘em? You got me for that, don’tcha?”
“Yeah. But… Actually, since you’re here, can we go over a few rules? My next heat isn’t scheduled until next month, but I’d like to set some boundaries before we do anything.”
Floyd pulls the lollipop stick from his mouth and twists it into a knot. “Lay ‘em on me.”
You nod, push the textbook away from you, and scoot your chair closer to the alcove. “You can’t bite.” You point at your neck. “Anywhere else is fine, but here is off limits.”
Floyd mirrors your actions, tapping the area where his glands reside with a hum. “I won’t bite.” His smile says otherwise, but you take him for his word.
“And no knotting.”
“No knotting.”
“No breeding either.”
“No breeding.”
“And… And no kissing.”
“No kissing. Gotcha.”
“You’re being surprisingly agreeable about this.”
Floyd shrugs. “It’s what Shrimpy wants.”
“Right. Okay. Well.” You wring your hands together. “Most importantly, we’re just friends and nothing more.”
“Just friends,” he parrots. “Nothing more.”
“Cool.” You nod to yourself, but it does nothing to dispel the awkwardness. “Awesome. Cool...”
Floyd pops up from the alcove seat like a reanimated corpse springing from a grave. He grabs your hand and tugs you up from your chair, all boisterous energy and laughter despite the vicious shushes you receive from nearby students.
“Let’s go swimming!”
You have no idea where this came from, but you allow yourself to be tugged from the library, abandoning the pile of textbooks you’d been perusing for nearly an hour. And though your spirits had been dampened considerably by the information, or rather lack thereof, you seem to forget about it while you watch Floyd splash freely around in the Octavinelle pool, swimming laps with such smooth precision. You dip your bare feet in the chilled water, entertaining him with a game of fetch, tossing a diving ring each time he brings it back to you.
And within no time your frown has lifted into a genuine smile.
Later, during your shift, Jade brushes past you. “Floyd has been in such a pleasant mood today,” he remarks, nodding towards his brother, who’s currently balancing trays as he happily skips from table to table, a whistle in his voice. “I wonder if something exciting has happened. Do share. I so dislike being left out of the loop.”
Knowing Jade and his affinity for omniscience, you suspect he’s already within the loop. And it’s not as if you could lie to him; he’d find out eventually when Floyd starts smelling more like you and you start smelling more like Floyd. So it’s best to be honest about it, even if it is a little uncomfortable admitting such a thing to Jade.
“Floyd’s going to help me with my heats.”
“Is that so? How kind of him. You have my most sincerest blessings.” Jade holds a hand over his heart. “Take good care of Floyd now. He can be rather sensitive, though he doesn’t seem it.”
“We’re not getting married, Jade.”
He smiles innocently. Your gazes are drawn to Floyd as he approaches with empty trays. He catches your eye and grins broadly, waving in a manner so ecstatic you’d think he’s just meeting you again for the first time in years.
“I wouldn’t be so certain about a hypothetical that has yet to be proven.”
“Then, hypothetically, I marry into the Leech family. What then?”
“I believe that would make us in-laws, no?”
“Right. And, hypothetically, my dear in-law goes missing and is never found again because he can’t keep his annoying mouth shut. What then?”
“You would have quite the crime on your hands. I don’t think the sea would show you much mercy.”
Floyd’s hands clap down upon your shoulders at that moment. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”
Jade’s grin sharpens into something predatory when he looks at Floyd, who’s resting his chin on top of your head. “We were merely discussing how we might dispose of the other should (Name) marry into the family.”
“Ooh! Shrimpy’s marryin’ Jade, huh?”
You and Jade answer in unison, though your responses are very contrasting.
“That can be arranged.”
“Absolutely not!”
Floyd pinches your cheek, cooing playfully. “I wouldn’t mind it. That means I’d get to see Shrimpy all the time.”
“Although, as honored as I am to consider a future with (Name), I believe Floyd would be a much better fit for you.”
“Huh? Why me?” Floyd looks at you more closely, inspecting you with narrowed eyes, and then he barks out a high laugh. “No way, Jade. You hafta like someone if you wanna marry ‘em.”
You twist out of Floyd’s arms. “And we all have to work if we don’t want Azul on our cases!” With a huff, you snatch the trays from under Floyd’s arm and stomp off towards the kitchen, listening to the twins’ laughter as you go.
iv. “shrimpy’s rule: no knotting.”
In the days leading up to your heat, Floyd is a leech, not just in surname but in the literal sense. He’s almost always hanging around you. From working the same hours at the lounge to accompanying you to and from classes to meeting you at Ramshackle first thing in the morning, he is your shadow. It almost feels like he’s attached to you by some invisible thread and can only go so far before he’s drawn back in by way of magnetic force. You thought it was weird, but then Floyd has always been weird and so this sort of behavior isn’t uncharacteristic. Rather, it makes perfect sense for him to stick to you like a barnacle. Why, you might ask? The simple answer is that he’s found entertainment in you and isn’t going to give up until he grows bored.
But the complex answer comes to you days before your scheduled heat, when Ace had none-too-subtly pointed out that you smell. He didn’t say you smelled funny, which had been a little soothing, but even Deuce had echoed his sentiment. You didn’t smell like yourself, they had told you. So you asked what you smelled like and without missing a beat they replied: “Like rain.”
You had laughed and then paused to consider what felt like an absurdity and then laughed again. Floyd isn’t your alpha and you’re not his omega. There shouldn’t be any reason for him to scent you. You shrug off Ace’s teasing and Deuce’s genuine curiosity in favor of focusing on your lunch. Lunch, you’ve decided, is much tastier than whatever confusion you were previously feasting on.
Unlike last month’s heat, you’re ready for this one. You wake and attend classes as you normally would, only feeling the faintest itch of what’s to come, but by your final class you’re woozy, struggling to stay centered while the lecture goes in one ear and out the other in a string of mushed syllables. You’re not completely gone when you shuffle out of class, ignoring the whispers that are thrown around, and you only truly perk up when a familiar smell hits you head-on.
Floyd leans against the wall, a casual smile pulling his lips apart. “My dorm or yours?”
“Yours,” you blurt, only to shake your head hastily. “No... No, not yours. Mine is better.”
He giggles and tilts his head at you. “Okaaay!”
Floyd hardly has any time to shut the door and drop your belongings on the sofa before you’re grabbing at him, clinging like a koala, and he gathers you in his arms and covers the distance to your bedroom. You’re quickly losing yourself to instinctual lust, shedding your articles of clothing as easily as you whimper his name. Floyd’s grinning as he follows your example, his eyes tracking your every movement. You flop onto your bed after you’ve discarded your rumpled uniform, skin hot and sticky with sweat and slick. Floyd’s pheromones fill the room at once, and you reach for him when he crawls on top of you, caging you between sturdy, muscled arms.
“Shrimpy smells funny again.”
“Knock it off, will you?” you spit, but the irritation doesn’t last long when you get another whiff of him and you throw your head back with an impatient sigh. “I don’t smell funny... Ace and Deuce didn’t think I smelled funny.”
“Yeah?” he prompts, palming your drenched hole, sliding two fingers past rings of wet muscle.
You shift underneath him, hissing out a breathy moan through grit teeth. “They said...” Another gasp. “They said I smelled like—” Your hands grip the sheets when he adds a third finger, lazily working you open with dexterous digits. “Like ra—aah—rain.”
“Musta been rainin’ that day.”
“N-No, you were... Your smell. You smell like—mmh. Like the rain.”
You don’t miss his tongue as it darts out to wet his lips. The lewd squelching of his fingers pumping in and out of you permeates the air, replacing any words he might have wanted to say. You shut your eyes with a blissful hum. Perhaps if you weren’t already so deep in your heat you might be able to sift through your thoughts with more coherence. But then, if you weren’t so deep in your heat, you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, and so you probably wouldn’t get this far with your curiosity.
“Were you... Hah... Were you scenting me? I couldn’t tell because...”
Because your scent’s already so familiar.
Floyd doesn’t answer, but he does withdraw his hand and you whine low in your throat. Your displeasure is short-lived, though, for rough hands spread your thighs next, and before you know it he’s between your legs, licking a stripe up your slick-coated entrance. By instinct, you attempt to shut your legs, wanting to lock him there forever, but his hands keep you spread wide for him, and so you rest your ankles upon his shoulders while he continues to lick and nip, his razored teeth just barely scraping skin.
Suddenly, pressing him for answers doesn’t seem like your main priority when a long, thick tongue pushes its way into you at the next moment. He hums his enjoyment, and the vibrations ripple through you like waves in a pond. It’s much better than anything you could have accomplished with just your fingers alone, and you can’t stop the noisy mewls that fall freely from your lips, breathy and pitched in a way that foretells approaching orgasm. With the way his fingertips burrow into the pudge of your thighs to the way his tongue sloppily works in and out of you, the warmth in your stomach builds to an insurmountable level, and it isn’t long until you’re tipping over the edge. You dig your fingers into teal locks, pressing him firmly against your crotch, and cum with a strangled shout.
Floyd withdraws, his face glistening with your slick, and you shudder at both the sight of him and the faint ache of emptiness. He swipes a stray droplet from his cheek and samples it with a slow lick. You almost cum again, heat kindling within you once more.
“Ahaaa,” he exhales giddily, pupils blown so wide they eclipse his irises. “Shrimpy’s like a fountain today!”
You lessen your grip on his hair, chest heaving as you come down from your high, and tug him back onto the bed, hurrying to swap the positions before he can grab hold of you. You fumble with his still-hardening dick, coating your fingers with your slick and attempting to pump it with awkward, inexperienced strokes. Floyd supports himself on his elbows, eyeing you as you lean down to take the head of his cock in your mouth.
He hisses out a laugh. “Shrimpy’s not very good at this, huh?”
You want to snap at him, but all you can manage is a disgruntled scoff. You’ve entertained scenes like this in your dreams, in which you were skilled in all areas of sex, but now that you’re actually leaning over him, giving it your best effort to fit half of him in your mouth, you realize your dreams painted an ideal version of you that is not applicable to the real-world you. And that dents your pride a little. At least you can blame your sloppiness on your heat, which has you rushing through the motions in your impatience. Miraculously, your mouth manages to work some magic because his cock stiffens completely, curving up at an angle that you’re certain will hit the deepest spots within you.
You pull off of him with a wet pop and he giggles, reaching to pinch your cheek. Swatting at his hand, you crawl over him, straddling him, and brace your hands upon his chest. Floyd watches you, his arms folded behind his head, as he lies back and allows you to do the work. Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, holding it steady while you align the soft, fleshy head with your hole. For a tense minute, you stare at the way the tip’s kissing your slit, oozing pre-cum. Had you been less omega-brained, you might have fretted over whether something so big would even fit, but right now all you need is to be completely filled to the brim.
Floyd unfolds his arms and rests his hands on your hips, seeming both amused and endeared to witness the emotions that shift on your face. Your eyes flick to his mismatched ones.
“Please...” You shiver, your hands closing around his larger ones. “Please, Floyd...”
You think that might have tempted him, for you’re hit with a stronger wave of his pheromones, but the thought is knocked out of your head when he lowers you onto his cock in a way that is uncharacteristically gentle. Your nails dig into his hands as slick, gummy walls swallow inch after thick inch. He’s concentrating on the way you stretch around him, groaning through clenched teeth, and he’s not even halfway in when you cum with a desperate wail. Floyd smirks up at you and, with his nails poking your hips, slams you down in one swift motion, spearing you entirely on his cock. You cry out your relief in delighted gasps.
“I-It’s inside...” you mumble, awestruck, as you press a hand to your stomach in an attempt to feel him. “It really—haah... Really fit...”
“‘Course it did,” he says pridefully. “I knew Shrimpy could do it.”
“Shrimpy only did it because of how wet—ah!” You nearly collapse when he thrusts up suddenly, the tip of his cock hitting a sensitive spot that sends pleasurable shockwaves rattling through you. You fix him with a weak scowl, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking at your hand intertwined with his while the other remains on your waist, keeping you steady. You loosen your grip for a moment before curling your fingers with a confidence only fostered by your heat. “C-Can I hold it?”
“S’not goin’ anywhere.”
You stick your tongue out at him and he laughs; and soon you’re starting to smile.
Swallowing your own heat-drunk giggles, you lift your hips slowly and ease back down onto him, shuddering at the way he fills you so completely. You do this a few more times while Floyd gleefully observes, and it isn’t long before you’re settling into a satisfying pace. He guides you up and down, watching you come undone with each steady roll of your hips. You’re a mess above him, fucking yourself silly while he meets you halfway with an occasional rough thrust, and you hold his hand so tightly you think you might tear it from his wrist. Floyd’s groans and grunts are music to your ears, spurring you onwards in your endeavors. You’re certain it’s just a byproduct of the heat, but he looks so enchanting beneath you, squeezing your hip and then reaching up to twist one of your perky nipples between his fingertips.
“Feels good?”
“So good,” you pant, breaths hot and wet. You’re overcome with the urge to pull him up and into your arms so that you can be even closer, but you’re too focused on feeling him deeper and so you never act on the temptation. “R-Really—mmph! Really good!”
He traces patterns into your stomach, giggling breathlessly. “I can tell. Shrimpy’s squeezin’ me soooo much.”
Neither of you seem to realize the base of his cock has swelled a considerable amount, but it’s brought to your attention the next time you slam your hips down and you’re stopped by his knot. You peer at it with lidded, glassy eyes and your omega instincts flare wildly, all messy bundles of nerves fraying at the idea that that could be inside you—that it should be inside you—locking you and Floyd together. You raise your hips, inches sliding out of you gradually, and you prepare yourself to take him—knot and all—when Floyd’s hand breaks from out of your hold to grab your waist, stopping your swift descent.
“Nuh-uh,” he chides, and you growl at him, almost animalistic with anger. “Shrimpy’s rule: No knotting.”
“This is—aah... Mmh... This is different. A t-trial run. This time...doesn’t count.”
“Hee hee. Shrimpy’s gonna regret it later.”
You squirm in his hold, begging him to keep moving through whimpers and whines, and he complies with a playful whistle.
“Please. Just once. Just once and then—”
“Mm, nope,” he says, popping the ‘P.’
“Floooyd...”
“Shrimpyyy.”
You sigh a sad, little sound that has Floyd’s eyes softening. His knuckle pets your cheek, oddly fond.
“S’just the heat talking,” he reminds you, and you lean into his warm, welcoming hand. “See? Shrimpy’s just followin’ instincts.”
He slides you off of him and your hole clenches uselessly around nothing. Within seconds, he’s flipped you so that you’re lying on your back and he’s above you. His teeth flash at you, sharp and bright, wild and untamed. You sandwich his face between your palms, adoring the way nasally laughter ripples through him. You’re glad he isn’t a mirror because if he was he might reflect an expression you don’t wish to confront at this very moment.
Floyd’s positioned himself and in one speedy thrust that nearly knocks the air from your lungs he slots himself inside, only this time you feel the overwhelming stretch of his knot as it fills you entirely, and you howl with ecstasy, linking your arms around his neck to bring him closer to your throat. Floyd moans lowly, resting his arm above your head and biting into the muscle so hard thin ribbons of blood streak from the punctures. Your chest is heaving, heart pounding out an erratic, heat-driven rhythm, and you cum around his thick knot with a strangled sob, tears running down your cheeks.
Within just a few more tight thrusts, Floyd’s emptied his creamy load inside, and you don’t have the sobriety to consider the weight of broken rules—rules that you had specifically put in place. You listen to his soft pants as he pulls away from his arm, saliva and blood stringing from his lips, and he licks it away with a swipe of his tongue. When he attempts to slide out, your face twists in discomfort.
“Hurts...”
“Aw. I’m sorry, Shrimpy,” he coos, adjusting your position so that he’s lying on his back and you’re resting on top of his chest, his knot still buried within you. His hand rests upon the small of your back, and he gives you a pleased, toothy grin. “Feel better now?”
“A little. Thank you,” you whisper, laying your head over his heart while the extremities of your heat ebb away, satisfied now that you’ve been properly filled and knotted by an alpha. His heart beats a steady thrum: buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum. The sweet scent of rain encases the both of you, easing you into a sleepy spell. You peer at the bite mark on his forearm and frown. “You bit yourself?”
“Didn’t wanna bite your neck.”
“Oh.” Your eyes flick to his, but he’s avoiding your stare, his cheeks tinged the faintest pink while he gazes at the ceiling. It’s a rare sight to see the Floyd Leech flustered and withdrawn; you wonder what’s the cause of this sudden shift in character. “You could’ve bitten anywhere else. I...wouldn’t have minded.”
“Didn’t wanna hurt you.”
“Oh.”
He’s looking at you now, the color on his cheeks fading, and a bashful smile plays at his lips. “Didn’t mean to break your rule.”
You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, petting him gently. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out once we’re unstuck.”
His chest rumbles with laughter. “Whatcha wanna talk about ‘til then?”
“Um... Well, what’s a good stuck-together conversation topic?”
Floyd hums thoughtfully. “You like shiny stuff?”
You blink at him. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just askin,’” he says, but his eyes flash with mischief. He leans in until his nose is touching yours. “Cuz I like shiny stuff, and Shrimpy’s glowin’ right now.”
Your face warms considerably and you push him away with an embarrassed groan. His giggles are muffled in your palm. “Not when we’re stuck together...”
v. “rather, ‘honey rain’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
You’re in the process of discussing spring weather with Azul when Floyd rushes up to you, takes your hand, gently spreads your fingers open as if they’re petals, and drops something onto your palm. You expect another tooth or a stone or a crumpled flower—all items he’s been gifting you at random over the course of a few months; what you don’t expect is an eel keychain. Perhaps you should have, though. You’ve learned to expect the unexpected with Floyd.
“What’s this?”
“For you!”
“An eel...for me?”
He nods and holds up a shrimp keychain. Your face warms when the implication becomes clear.
“It’s cute. Thanks. I’ll keep it safe.”
Floyd beams at you and presses his lips to your cheek in a fleeting smooch. Just as quick as he had come, he’s retreating, skipping off in delight, his laughter echoing down the halls while he ignores your flustered shout. You know he wants you to pursue him, but you’re too embarrassed to give chase. Instead, you scrub at your cheek with a huff. He’s always kissing your cheeks and sometimes even your lips. You enjoy it too much to remind him of all the rules the both of you have since broken. They mean nothing now.
“You certainly smell pleased,” Azul remarks with a sly smirk.
“It’s better than smelling funny.”
“Floyd still hasn’t told you what you smell like?”
“No! And it’s really annoying!” You peer at the tiny plush eel in your hands, its beady eyes and stitched smile taunting you. “It’s always ‘Shrimpy smells funny’ and never ‘Shrimpy smells like something that isn’t funny.’”
“I can assure you your scent is not at all humorous. It’s actually quite pleasant.”
“Are you just saying that to be nice, or are you saying that to be nice?”
Azul shakes his head in amusement. “Can’t I compliment a fellow omega and, most importantly, a friend?”
“Can’t you admit the truth?”
“Details, details.” He waves the dig away dismissively. “It’s no wonder Floyd fancies you so. He adores sweet things.”
“Oh, do I smell sweet then? Like candy? Or maybe like a pastry?”
“You smell like floral honey.”
“Huh. That’s...definitely not a funny scent.”
“Not at all. Rather, ‘honey rain’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
You wonder if you should object. You wonder if you should try to claim that you and Floyd are still friends despite the evolution of your arrangement. Neither of you have admitted it, but it’s obvious you’ve stepped over the boundary of ‘just friends’ and have entered new territory—territory that’s so very akin to lovers.
But you only smile covertly. “Yeah, it does,” you mumble, tracing your finger over the eel’s tilted head. “It really does.”
#tw: abo#tw: omegaverse#tw: knotting#n/sfw#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#floyd leech x reader#floyd x reader#lunar love hotel 2023#fluffy floyd hours#since the type of writing wasn't specified i decided to write a oneshot :D
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
If possible can you do an angst with floyd leech where you're dating him and he used to call you 'shrimpy' until prefect comes and he starts calling them shrimpy while losing interest in you and eventually ends things with you.
You can do whatever ending but ive just had this in my mind for soooo long😭😭😭😭
If you cant do it then its totally ok!!
Washed away
Floyd Leech x Reader (Fluff to Angst)
A/N-Tysm for this request!! I loved this idea so much let me know if you have more! I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it’s okay that I started it off fluffy I feel it makes the angst hit harder 😭
You were dazing off in history class, when suddenly professor Trein asks you a question about Savannaclaws next ruler. Seeing your sheepish look he sighs moves on to ask a different student. Happy the embarrassment was only a second you lean back in your chair with a sigh, only to be met with a whisper in your ear.
“It was Cheka Kingscholar, shrimpy”
You whip around to see the Leech brothers behind you, infamously tall and terrifying. Though from the coy taunting voice you could tell it was Floyd. The embarrassment began to trickle back in again as you heard snickers over the nickname. You huffed and stared at the clock on the wall, willing the class to finally be over. Eventually it was, though Floyd’s name calling did not. In lunchtime, the halls, the classes you shared it was never ‘y/n’ just ‘shrimpy’, and it never failed to infuriate you.
One day, after lots of frustration and the desperate thought that he’d be calling you shrimpy til senior year, you finally spooned up the courage to catch up with him after class and ask why he had assigned the odd nickname.
“I just think shrimp are cute” He said shrugging one shoulder and giving you a grin, as though it was the most casual thing in the world.
You felt embarrassed again . . . but maybe for different reasons this time.
“You should come to the maestro lounge sometime, I’ll give you a special deal on shrimp” He said throwing you a wink and flashing you his sharp toothed smile before walking off.
Huh’ you mused ‘maybe I will.’
***
You hummed softly next to your boyfriend as he continued to snore, leaning on your shoulder in his seat. The entrance ceremony was long and Crowley certainly seemed to like the sound of his own droning voice. Being second years the formalities were very much familiar and very much boring to you. Only the occasional game of ‘who can bother Jade the most’, watching the hyper first years scramble around, and seeing Floyd in the classic Octanville robes made the ceremony bearable for the first couple hours. As you started to consider also sleeping in your seat with Floyd an odd gray and blue ball of fur zipped past you with various students chasing after it.
I wonder what’s going on “ you mused lazily, unknowing that this was the beginning of realationships unravel. Your interest started to perk at the scene of dorm wardens joining the chase. Floyd opened his eyes and tilted his head curiously at the sight of the person holding the little gray creature.
“Who do you think that is shrimpy?”
***
With the start of classes and busy beginning of Nightraven college you quickly forgot about the ceremony, and person they called the ‘prefect’ who was rumored to be magicless. Though Floyd seemed to know them well. It truly didn’t bother you at first, you were glad he was making more friends, but it seemed the closer Floyd got to the prefect, the farther he fled from you.
“This is a partner project. I expect a quality presentation on how Scarbia’s climate contributes to its cultural and political systems” Professor Trein announced to the class. Well at least it was a partner project so you could work with-
“Let’s be partners shrimpy”
You froze. It was Floyd’s voice, but it wasn’t directed towards you. He was looking up from his seat behind you smiling at the prefect as they laughed and agreed. You swallowed and swiftly turned back to your own seat, staring at your desk and trying to blink back tears. He didn’t even look at you. and shrimpy was your name!
You flinched feeling a gloved hand from behind on your shoulder, and turned ready to give Floyd a piece of your mind-only to see Jade.
“We can work together y/n” He said a mixture of apology and concern on his face.
“Alright.” You muttered turning back away, not wanting the pity but appreciating the gesture.
***
‘Meet me at the maestro’
It had been so long since Floyd had actually asked to go on a date with you and you were beyond thrilled. Obviously the whole situation with the prefect had been a misunderstanding and he was finally taking the initiative to make it up to you! You dressed well, choosing his favorite colors of turquoise and purple with extravagant pearl and shell accessories while reminiscing on your first date the maestro lounge. Back then he had reserved the entire place for you two, wanted you to try everything, and constantly made you laugh. You held close to that memory as a place of hope, and were ecstatic it was finally paying off.
You slipped out of your dorm as the clock struck twelve and quietly snuck into the lounge.
An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you entered, the whole place was dark with all the tables and chairs pushed to the side. ‘Maybe not a dinner date?’ You thought, pulling out two chairs and deciding to wait for him.
After what felt like forever you could finally make out a tall silhouette walking over to you-but flinching back seeing your fancy attire. He didn’t lean over you the way he used too, constantly craning his neck to look at what you were doing, or playfully poke at your hair or nip at your ear. He brooded in his chair, leaning back with an uncomfortable expression and his hands both firmly stuck in his pockets.
Only the two of you and the gentle sound of water remained.
“I’m always going to care about you y/n, but I don’t . . . feel for you anymore” He said this simply. The same simple way he would say ‘I love you’ ‘let me do it for you’ ‘this reminded me of you’. The same simple way he’d gently tug at your hair to get your attention, he’d squeeze your hand tightly in crowds as if afraid to let go, and carefully he held your heart in his hands.
His love and indifference looked so similar but felt so different. You wanted to vomit.
Eventually you did. But not before the crying. Heaving sobs filled the silent room as you brought your knees up to bury your face in. He tried to reach you, saying some words that sounded like apologies but quickly left as you vehemently yelled for him to go.
You felt footsteps and were ready to yell at Floyd to leave again but were surprised to see Jade carrying a box of tissues and a folder.
“I told him not to do that here.” He grimaced seeing your face and pushed the box of tissues towards you.
“I just wanted to let you know I finished the presentation, and I put your lines in that folder, I didn’t want you to worry about the project on top of er-this” Jade said warily, as he began to walk back out wanting to give you space.
“Was it because of the prefect?” Your voice was quiet and strained but impossible to not hear in the still room.
Jade didn’t turn around but nodded, sealing your fate as a new round of your sobs mixed with the fading sound of footsteps. 
#fanfiction#fanfic#x reader#disney twisted wonderland#floyd x reader#floyd leech#twst floyd#twst jade#angst without a happy ending#angst#little fluffy#twisted wonderland#it’s been a longgg time since i’ve written sorry if it’s not great 😭#how we feeling#part 2?? even more angsty seeing Floyd and prefect together?? getting closer to Jade?? lmk what y’all want
91 notes
·
View notes
Note
Um...hi how are you? I really love your work and you are such a good writer so can I please request a fluffy romantic headcanon for Azul, Floyd, Malleus, Leona and Idia with a fem reader who has big boobs and the boys accidentally or maybe on purpose (you decided it) bump into their chest and a "so soft" slip out of their mouth and reader gets really flustered and the boys just smirk at them.
I got the idea from this picture I found on Pinterest
....
Yeeeeeeees this is Fluffy. 100% fluffy. You're cursed if you even dare to think about anything else. Eheheheheeeee. *Nervous laugh*
Ur mind is dirty. Not mine.
Also I am good.
Malleus Draconia
Horned boy can also sometimes be horny.
Usually, Malleus would only do this in private.
But he can also do this during mating season.
Often when he is jealous.
Which is surprisingly often.
Not even the moral police Sebek can stop him.
( Poor Sebek gets a heart attack every time. )
It's really hard to predict.
One moment Malleus is cuddling with you like normal and the next his head is on your chest.
*insert horny dragon noises here.*
And it's really hard to get the dragon to move away.
Malleus always wants "five more minutes".
And soon you realize that you have been in this position for many hours.
He also does not like to share the attention.
Don't be on the phone at the same time.
Otherwise, your phone may learn to fly.
"Please Y/N give me five more minutes. Yes, I know he said. I saw it three hours ago, but it's really good to be here. Don't you love me enough to give it to me? Yes, I know I said this too three hours ago."
Floyd Leech
Floyd would be the worst.
he hasn't seen many big breasts in his life. Floyd is a teenager so of course breasts are of interest.
He has no idea what is appropriate in public and what is not.
So because of that, Floyd can do this almost anywhere.
Who cares if someone sees it?
You are his partner so Floyd has a "right" to do this.
He would really enjoy this.
Your breasts are just so soft.
Floyd likes to play with them.
( We won't talk more about this. )
He also enjoys how "cute" you look when you blush.
Floyd would definitely tease you about it.
That would make you blush even more.
Either out of anger or embarrassment.
Who knows.
This also happens often.
At least once a day.
But Floyd is so sneaky that he never reveals when it happens.
"Eheheheheeee shrimpy is all red. Like boiled shrimp. This feels really nice. So what if someone stares? I can 'squeeze' them if they complain."
Leona Kingscholar
You would be in a relationship.
Otherwise, Leona would never do this.
"Respect women" juice is too good.
Leona would be sneaky with this one.
He's just pretending he's coming to sleep on your lap.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
But then he puts his head on your chest instead of your lap.
And he really doesn't want to move.
Leona thinks your breasts are really soft.
Like a giant pillow.
However, he would like to tease you a little.
It would be fun.
It doesn't matter if this happens in public or not.
But if it happened in public, Leona would enjoy the embarrassment of other people.
It's best to start carrying a water bottle with you.
It's really hard to get this big cat to move without it.
And when Leona realizes how nice your breasts are s
he starts doing this more often.
Just wait.
You really should start carrying a water bottle with you.
" Hey herbivore can you be a little quieter? I'm trying to sleep here. It's not my fault your breasts are as comfortable as the pillows. *
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul would be jealous.
He noticed that some unknown person was flirting with you.
And Azul couldn't take it.
He wanted to do something to remind him that you are his partner.
And that's when he got that idea.
Or, actually, he didn't come up with that idea.
Jade and Floyd figured it out.
The lesson of the story: don't follow ideas invented by eels.
Azul walked up to you like normal.
Then he bent down to the level of your breasts and you can find the rest in the picture that came with the request.
He could feel you blushing.
And saw how the person you were talking to blushed.
Azul would secretly enjoy this.
If the person didn't leave Azul would start doing more "things".
He enjoys the sounds you make.
Maybe he should try this somewhere else too.
😏😏😏😏
Azul has found a new dimension of pleasure.
He wants to do this more often.
" It felt surprisingly nice. Oh why did I do that? Well I just wanted to show you are my angelfish. We should do that again. Maybe more privately. What do you say?"
Idia Shroud
Idia might be to do this once.
But that would require a level 300 affection.
That is, about two years of dating and three years of a real relationship.
After that, if the stars are in the right position and Idia is sugar drunk enough, this might happen.
It would last about three minutes at most.
At least ten seconds.
After that, you wouldn't be the only one who was really red.
Secretly, Idia would be excited.
But still he retreats under the bed and refuses to come out.
The whole incident embarrasses him a lot.
Especially after the fact.
He won't be able to look at you properly for months.
However, He secretly enjoyed it.
Idia just doesn't want to admit it to himself.
And especially not for you.
Let's just hope Ortho didn't see this.
"No I'm not coming out! Can't you leave me food behind the door?"
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud#floyd leech x reader#floyd leech#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia#twisted wonderland imagines#twst imagine#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagine#twst x you#twisted wonderland x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Cute One With the Glasses
Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader
Description: When you have to take the little girl you look after to the hospital, you're never expecting to find someone who you'd definitely like to see again. Little do you know that he wants to see you just as much as you do him.
Themes: Hospitals, Toddlers, Injured Toddlers, Mentioned Injuries, Broken Bones
Word Count: 3400
A/N: Hiya, everyone! I've been working on this idea off and on for a couple of months and finally finished it! I don't know why, but I've been on a real Bob kick recently. So have this ridiculously fluffy, cute fic!
Thanks to @sarahsmi13s who read over this fic for me and caught one huge plot hole!
AO3: Cross-posted Here!
Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!
My Masterlist
You can feel the panic clawing at you, sinking wickedly sharp claws into your lungs as you force yourself to put one step in front of the other. Your only other focus as you walk is to keep from jostling the small, slight form in your arms.
“You're going to be okay, sweetheart, I promise.” You mutter the words with each step you take, a constant litany that soothes your frenzied mind and valiantly tries to push back the panic. But it doesn’t work. You feel like you're drowning as you scribble out her name in the emergency room, Ivy Seresin, in your looping, jagged handwriting. Your charge is valiant as she grits her teeth, big green eyes glistening with tears as you carefully settle her into your lap after filling out the papers. Her dad is going to murder you for this. When he gets out of his jet and can hear the frantic voicemails you left him, he’s going to march down to the base hospital and fire you.
After all, what kind of babysitter are you? You’d walked into the house for only a couple of minutes to answer the phone. You had rushed back out to the shrieks and squeals of a little girl in pain, lying stunned under the colossal backyard playset her dad built for her when she could walk. You’d bundled her into the car the minute you realized, your mind racing at a million miles per hour while doing your best not to jostle her arm. She sobs wearily into your chest, her soft blonde hair mussed and tangled.
“Miss Seresin?” You startle out of your thoughts, the nurse’s voice pulling you from where you’d been cuddling Ivy. “The doctor will see you now.”
“C’mon, pretty girl,” Your voice is wobbly as you carefully stand up with Ivy in your arms. “The doctor’s going to make you feel much better, and I bet your daddy will be right here before the doctor’s done looking at your arm!”
You feel strung tight, close to tears, even though you’re not hurt at all. Big drops spill from Ivy’s eyes as you set her down on the hospital bed, her small form looking even smaller when the bed is so much larger than she is. It’s made worse when she won’t let you go, either. Her uninjured hand is fisted securely in your soft t-shirt. This is the stalemate the nurse sees when she walks in. She’s a beautiful brunette with a pert upturned nose and a sweet smile on her face.
“Hello. I’m here to see a Miss Ivy Seresin?” Her voice is as musical as you expect it to be. “And that must be this pretty little girl here?”
To your surprise, Ivy nods just once before burying her face into your side. Ivy’s not what you’d call shy. Like her father, she’s the life of the party, bold as brass and far more charming. Normally, she’d have leapt at the chance to show someone just how sweet she is.
“Ivy, it’s alright,” you try to wheedle with the toddler who rules your every waking moment. “The nice nurse is just trying to look at your booboo.”
“Yeah!” You smile when the nurse jumps in. “I’m Nurse Willis, and your momma is perfectly right. I just want you to tell me where the booboo hurts!”
Ivy sniffles before finally revealing her little tear-streaked face. Her voice is petulant as she says, “This isn’t my momma. This is Lia. She’s my, uh….”
Ivy’s little face scrunches up in thought, “my baby-keeper?”
“I see…” You shrug at the laughter in the nurse’s voice. You’d normally be giggling, too, if you weren’t so worried about your charge. “Well, then. It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Miss Ivy and Miss Lia.”
“Now then, Miss Ivy. Can I please take a look at your arm?” The little girl seems to be thinking, but then you see an all too familiar stubborn mood set in like storm clouds.
“No!” The explosion of sound is too loud and quite shrill, and you’re sure half the Emergency Department hears it. “I’m not letting you touch me until I see my daddy!”
“Honey,” You sink onto the bed next to Ivy and try to convince her. “Your daddy had to fly in his jet today. I called him when we were on our way to the hospital, remember?”
But Ivy just glowers in response.
“His secretary, Josie, picked up the phone. She promised she’d tell your Daddy what happened.”
When the glowering turns into more of those heart-wrenching sobs, you wince and pull out your phone again. You only see the glowing numbers telling you the time - no messages or voicemails. In all honesty, you don’t see a thing from her dad.
“Hey, Ivy.” You soothe, letting the little girl crawl into your lap, uncaring of how much mud is on her shoes as they compact painfully with your shins. Her shoulders shake as she wets your t-shirt with tears and snot. You carefully rub your hand up and down her back in soothing, gentle motions. “Your daddy will be here as soon as he sees my messages! I promise. He’s probably on the way to the hospital right now!”
But your gentle encouragements don’t seem to work. Soon enough, Ivy’s tears stall. But she still doesn’t trust the friendly Nurse as she tries to take her vitals. That’s the scene that the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen walks into. Ivy’s standing on the hospital bed, stomping her favorite patent leather shoes into the paper liner on the bed, streaking mud on the pristine white. Nurse Willis is sitting on a stool with a clipboard, stifling giggles behind her hand. You, on the other hand, are standing at the side of the bed with a hand on Ivy’s back to make sure she doesn’t fall. Your hair is escaping your braid, your t-shirt is irreparably stained with yogurt from Ivy’s mid-morning snack from before the accident, and you’re wearing mismatched socks and sandals.
The doctor, on the other hand, is resplendent in a khaki uniform, with his dark hair coiffed off of his forehead and a shy smile on his face. He’s wearing big glasses on thin silver frames, and if you didn’t find him incredibly handsome before, you do now. But your reaction to the handsome doctor has nothing on Ivy’s. She gasps, squeals, and practically leaps out of bed before launching herself into his arms.
“Uncle Bob!” Now you’re sure you have whiplash. It’s night and day: Ivy’s reaction to the nurse versus her reaction to the Doctor.
“Hi, my Ivy Girl!” His voice is gruff and sweet as he gathers Ivy up, careful to avoid jostling her arm.
“Where’s my daddy?” You can practically hear the pout in her voice.
“He’s on his way, I promise he is.” As he eases into the room and sets Ivy down on the bed, it hurts a little at how he seems able to calm the little girl down with just a few words. When Nurse Willis can finally start taking Ivy’s vitals, you slump into the hard-backed plastic chair with a sigh of relief.
“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor.” Your voice is quiet as Ivy finally begins to behave for the nurse.
“Oh,” He’s blushing as he takes the other plastic chair. “I’m not a doctor.”
He clears his throat a little as the flush rises. “I work with Jake, uh, Captain Seresin.”
“When Josie came by with your message for him, I got on comms and told him I’d come to the hospital to make sure Ivy was alright.”
His voice is soft and musical, and despite yourself, you find yourself leaning in closer to him, needing to hear more. His cheeks go pink under your gaze, eyes darting between you and Ivy. He follows behind you and Ivy as the Doctor leads her to get X-rays done. Nurse Willis follows you as well, flirting with Bob with everything she’s worth.
“Thank you for coming down here like this.” Your voice is quiet as you sit once again in the hard plastic chairs in the ER.
His lips purse like he’s going to say something, and you’re hanging on his every word. Then Ivy is squealing, and the doctor’s trying to get her to sit back down, and it’s chaos. The source of that chaos? The one and only Captain Jake Seresin, Ivy’s favorite person in the whole wild world. Your charge is crying again, big crocodile tears dripping down her cheeks as she plays up her pain with big green eyes and pink cheeks.
In all the commotion, you lose your chance to talk to Bob again. Once Ivy is down for the night, what feels like hours and many sparkly stickers on her little cast later, you march your way down into the bright, airy Seresin kitchen. It feels like you’re marching to the gallows. Nannying a four-year-old girl was not in your five-year plan when you graduated with your Master’s degree. Go figure a degree in Ancient History hasn’t gotten you many marketable skills.
A friend of your parents had recommended you to Ivy and her dad. It’s a pretty sweet deal, honestly. Room and Board, a generous salary, and all the time in the world to yourself when Ivy’s with her dad. The only caveat was how when Ivy wanted you, boy did she really want you. At times, you called her your little dictator in a toddler’s body because sometimes the only way to stave off a meltdown was to give her what she wanted, within reason.
Jake takes one look at you and pushes one of the mugs he’s holding into your hands. “Why do you look so sad, kiddo?”
“I’m so sorry, Captain Seresin.” The apologies spill out of your mouth like an unending fountain.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything, kid.” He sighs as he slumps into his chair. The stress of the day seems to exude from his pores as his fingers tap on the mug.
“Ivy’s strong. You did everything right. You made sure she was safe, that she wasn’t in too much pain, and you got her the medical care she needed.”
Something is haunting in his eyes as he stares down into his mug. “I’m glad you were there. It scared the shit out of me when Josie told me to book it to the hospital. When she said it was Ivy, my mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusions. A broken arm is nothing in comparison to everything that went through my mind.”
You blink and push your chair out with a squeal, pulling the Cheetos from their hiding place in cupboards Ivy can’t reach. It sounds like what the Captain and you both need is some comfort junk food. Coupled with Jake Seresin’s Famous Hot Chocolate™, you’re sure to be comforted.
“I’m still sorry, Captain Seresin.”
“Seriously, kid. I’ve told you to call me Jake probably a hundred times in the past year. When are you finally going to listen to me?”
“Maybe one more time will do it?” Your voice is cheeky as you plunk the bowl of Cheetos on the table equidistant between the Captain and you.
“Fuck, the Cheetos? Seriously?” Jake drags his hand down his face. You’re never going to tell him that you only call him Captain because it pisses him off. You’ve been thinking of him by his name since practically the day you met him and Ivy both. “You know there will be hell to pay if Ivy comes down here looking for one of us and sees these.”
“She’s knocked out after a long, painful day. Her stomach is full of Cheese Pizza and the good painkillers. Baby Girl will be just fine!”
He snorts, picking through the crunchy fried corn sticks for one that’s perfectly coated in artificial cheese dust.
“So….” His voice makes shivers slide down his spine. It should be illegal for a man to look as devious as he does holding a Cheeto. “I saw how you were looking at our dear old Baby on Board at the hospital, kid.”
“When are you going to make the moves on him?”
“Ummm….” You roll your eyes at him. “How about never?”
“Why never?” He crunches down on the treat while ignoring how neon-orange powder sheds across the pristine kitchen table you’re both sitting at.
“Because he’s gorgeous. And sweet. And kind.” You’re whining as you sip on your hot chocolate, quiet because Ivy wakes up even if the dog walks past her door with clanking tags. “He’s so far out of my league it isn’t even funny.”
“Did you see how that nurse was batting her eyelashes at him?”
“So?” Jake’s got a shit-eating grin on his face. “You were batting your eyelashes too, kid. And Bob looked absolutely besotted with you. Even when you were wearing socks and sandals.”
“Tell you what. I’ll pay for your first date with Bob if you write him a flirty little note and make him some cookies.”
“Only if I make him cookies?”
“No, if you make him cookies and ask him out on a date. If he says yes, I will pay for your date.”
“What if he says no?”
“I’ll get you whatever you want.”
“Even one of those ridiculously overpriced mud pack spa days with Nix?”
“Fuck,” He covers his eyes with his hand, uncaring of his orange-coated fingers. “You’ve got a deal, kid. I don’t know why I encouraged your friendship with our neighborhood firebird, but you’ve got a deal.”
Captain Jake Seresin is known for being cheerful on base. He's never without a grin and toothpick. The day after he rushes off because his daughter is in the hospital, he comes in holding a pair of Tupperware containers in his hands, whistling on his way to his office. The Top Gun class scurries out of his way when they see him coming. When Captain Seresin is smiling it means they’re in for rough skies and he’s likely to get tone on each of their jets at least twice. The Daggers aren’t quite so worried. Over the years since the Uranium Mission they’ve seen the changes in their once rash, reckless friend. Ivy was a big instrument for that change. So was the nanny he’d hired two weeks after he found out about his daughter.
In the two years since then, Jake Seresin’s life has been ruled by his two girls, his daughter and the woman he considers a little sister. He’s notoriously overprotective of them both. He’s still teasing and abrasive, but it’s softened. Thankfully, he hasn’t treated Natasha any different than before while at work. There’s a bit more respect in his tone, but that’s about it. And she trusts him now, trusts him with her life in a way she never did before. Right now, though, Jake Seresin is focusing the brunt of his attention on her WSO.
Bob’s changed a lot over the years too. He’s still quiet and thoughtful, the type to have a hundred thoughts hidden behind his stormy blue eyes even as he says one. Now he’s bolder, and more confident. He holds his own amongst the personalities of the Dagger squad. She knows he considers Jake a friend now. Little Ivy Seresin adores him too, chattering on and on about her Uncle Bob any and every chance she gets.
All this to say, Nat knows her WSO pretty well. He’d do anything for his friends, which is why he’d run to see if Ivy was alright the day before when she was in the hospital and Jake was flying. It’s his face when he came back which was new. He’d looked starstruck, far away. There was a persistent flush to his cheeks and Nat wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t want to know why. Obviously Seresin’s got a very clear idea for what’s bothering her unusually taciturn WSO. The two men chat for a little bit, Jake growing more and more animated and cheerful as Bob flushes with big eyes behind his BCGs.
The conversation culminates in Jake handing Bob one of the Tupperware containers. There’s a page on top of the box. Even from halfway across the room, Nat can see the way his cheeks flush even more when he opens the paper and reads the words on it. She’s stalking forward before her plans to be an absolute terror have even solidified in her mind.
“So, Bobby!”
He startles at the chipper sound of her voice, glasses tipping down his nose and his mouth a little oh.
“Whatcha got there?”
If her voice didn’t have the other Daggers gathering around their bespectacled colleague and friend before, they’re definitely gathering around now.
“Cookies, Nix.” There’s a catch in his voice, his shoulders hunching protectively over the note and the tupperware box.
“I can see that, Bobby boy!” The smile she shares with Rooster is anything but innocent. “But who gave you the cookies?”
“Bagman.”
That’s all the information Nat gets out of her tight-lipped WSO. A few hours later, she’s sweaty and mussed in her flight suit and trailing behind him. Now, she finally sees the note.
Hi Bob,
I confess, I don’t really know your name. Jake refers to you as Baby on Board, and I know your callsign is Bob. Is that actually your first name? As much as I’d love to interrogate Jake one day as to why he calls you Baby on Board, I think I’d like to get to know you a bit better. I've been calling you ‘The Cute one with the Glasses’ in my head since we met.
I don’t know if you remember me, the absolute mess wearing socks and sandals at the hospital the other day. Jake basically ordered me to make you cookies to thank you for calming Ivy down, and well, you know Jake. If I said no, he would’ve made my life miserable.
All words about completely melodramatic Seresins aside, I did want to thank you. Ivy was seconds away from a snotty, tear-filled meltdown when you walked through that door. I was seconds away from joining her.
You’re something special, Uncle Bob. Ivy adores you, and you know Jake adores you too, no matter how much shit he gives you. I know I made a less than favorable first impression at the hospital yesterday, what with the yogurt on my shirt and Ivy screaming and everything. But would you maybe want to grab coffee sometime?
Lia
XXX-XXX-XXXX
“So, you’re going out with Lia, right?”
He snorts as he opens the Tupperware container and offers Nat a cookie.
“You just want all the dirt on our relationship, if we get there, don’t you?”
Her voice is a little muffled by sweet buttery cookie goodness, the slightly bitter chocolate melting on her tongue when she responds. “Of course I do!”
“I’ve been wanting you to ask Lia out for months!”
Bob blinks, blue eyes widening behind his frames as Nat grabs another cookie while gesticulating wildly.
“You’ve been starstruck from that first barbecue years ago. But you never got close to her. I don’t think you’ve actually spoken to her in the two years of squadron events. It figures that she asked you out thanks to some pushing from Bagman, because she’s just as shy as you are.”
“She thought I was the doctor in the hospital yesterday.”
Nat grins at the look on her WSO’s face. “Well, it makes sense. You keep hiding behind Rooster or Javy or Payback when we’re at the Seresins and she’s around. It’s about time she noticed you.���
Bob snorts, “Well, it’s a good thing I messaged her already and agreed to meet up for coffee.”
“So you better get Jake to foot the bill for the best date you can give her!”
As if she even has to say that. Nat’s sure her WSO is just as enraptured as her friend is. Bob will be good for Lia, she knows it. Of course she’s going to give them shit. That’s her prerogative as Bob’s best friend and pilot. But she’d be surprised if they didn’t work out. After all, if any two people would be perfect together it would be Bob and Lia.
I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
Taglist:
@kmc1989 @chaoticassidy @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @thedroneranger @cherrycola27
#star writes#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun imagine#bob x reader#robert floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#robert floyd imagine#robert bob floyd#robert bob floyd imagine
140 notes
·
View notes
Note
I read your stories/headcannons,they are great!! I love them 🤧 If you don't mind,I want to request how they react to their s/o fell while climbing a tall tree,like the branch break w/ Riddle,Silver,Azul and Rook. That's all~
~Shiro
Howdy hey! What a lovely request, I'm sure these boys would adore being seen as your knight in shining armor~ -GN
Warnings: Heights, falling out of a tree, minor injuries (no blood), slight talk about the reader’s body (they are described to be a bit fluffy with a rounded face), laughing as a panic response
GN! Reader
Looks Like I Fell For You <3
Riddle Rosehearts
It began as a regular day in Heartslabyul and ended as a wild flamingo chase. During a practice game of croquet for the upcoming unbirthday party, one of the freshmen accidentally spooked the hedgehogs and set off a chain reaction of squeaks and flying feathers. It was total chaos, and you were forced to help corral the remaining flamingos out of one of the taller trees in the Heartslabyul gardens.
Grim was of little help since his screaming and flaming response to frustration made all the flamingos scatter wildly. So, in an attempt to get them down, you started climbing the thick branches. It took a while to get up as high as you did but you were proud of your progress. One by one you shooed the multicolored birds out of their perch.
You were in the midst of battling the final blue-tinted bird from its roost when you heard a familiar voice shout in panic. “PREFECT?!” Riddle screamed from below. Looking down revealed him clinging to the base of the tree, eyes filled with worry. “What in the Queen’s name are you doing up there? Come down immediately!”
Before you could reassure him that you were perfectly fine, the flamingo you had been in pursuit of decided it was the perfect time to abandon its hiding place. One of its wings knocked into your head and threw you off balance. You scrambled to right yourself, only half successful when a groaning snap sounded from the branch you were standing on.
The branch gave way, throwing you to the ground with alarming speed. You closed your eyes and braced for impact, already dreading the pain of hitting the thick bark on your descent. You snagged a couple of branches, barely hearing Riddle’s shout before you felt the world come to a halt. The slight whiplash caused your eyes to snap open and witness the gentle red glow of magic surrounding you. Riddle let out a sound of relief, gently lowering you to the ground.
Still stunned, you let him check you over for any bruises or blood and sat through the scolding of a lifetime. “Honestly, of all the things I expected this was not one of them,” he sighed. “What in the world were you thinking doing something so dangerous?”
The words left your mouth before you could think. “I think I just fell for you.”
He sputtered, shocked and embarrassed that his heart skipped a beat at the confession (?) before he let out an ear-shattering screech. You simply laughed, oblivious to the way you sent Riddle’s mind spiraling down a path he refused to acknowledge.
The redness of his face made the hour-long lecture and bleeding ears worth it.
Azul Ashengrotto
Sometimes you wondered if befriending the eel brothers was a good idea. Now, as you dangled precariously above the ground and clung to a rickety branch, you were sure it wasn’t worth any of this.
“This” was you stuck in a tree because Floyd thought throwing you off a broom was a fun idea. Coach Vargas had teamed the both of you up together since Grim was getting punished for burning one of the broomsticks and you needed to get a passing score lest you failed the class. As you were gliding through the air, the only warning you got was the eel’s giggles before he shot upwards and away from the training field with you in tow.
You were too focused on not falling to your death to realize what he was planning. It was only when you were wrenched from your place on the broom and plopped into one of the tallest trees on campus that you were screwed. Floyd’s cackles rang through the air as you screamed after him, only to slip and find yourself clinging onto a fragile branch for dear life.
You were slowly losing hope of getting down safely until you heard a choked shout of your name. It was Azul, panicking and accompanied by an amused Jade. It seemed they were just leaving their alchemy class due to the lab coats. You were just about to greet them when your arm went weak and you dropped with a scream.
You were flung away from the branches, which was good since you wouldn’t hurt yourself knocking against the thick foliage but it also meant you couldn’t slow down your fall or try to catch yourself. A second scream, one of your name, caused you to open your eyes in time to witness Azul summon a stack of gym mats beneath you. You crashed into the plush surface with a loud thwack, the force of your landing punched the air out of your lungs.
You were still wheezing as you were lowered from the impromptu platform, where you were greeted by a frazzled octopus and a slightly worried eel. You were shaken beyond belief but you were still grateful to your rescuer. So grateful in fact, that you leaned into his side and cheekily whispered into his ear.
“Wow, Azul. I think I just fell for you~”
The resulting squeal of a boiled octopus was worth getting inked in the face.
Rook Hunt
Hiding from Vil by hiding in a tree was probably one of the dumbest things you could ever do. But how could anyone blame you? The prideful peacock of a man was hellbent on dragging you into one of his “self-care nights”, the code name for a 5-hour lecture on skincare and healthy eating habits.
You liked your softer features, thank you very much. After all, your mother always said that a full belly would heal the soul better than a pretty face and some high-end clothes ever could. You’d take a bowl of stew over slaving away in front of a mirror any day.
Back to the issue at hand, you watched as Epel sprinted past your hiding spot. No doubt that he was also trying to avoid his fate by the look of panic on his face and the distant yelling of Vil in the distance. You stayed silent but sent him a good luck prayer in hopes that the warden would go easy on the poor freshman. With all the commotion below you, you failed to notice the swaying of a white feather in the bushes.
Rook watched as you leaned against the trunk of the tree, completely unaware of your surroundings. He always found it amusing how easily you’d let your guard down in times of pursuit, like a rabbit in a clearing, ignorant of the arrow pointed straight at it. Of course, he was sent on a mission to retrieve you on behalf of his beloved Roi de Poison, and as a good huntsman, he must deliver his pray with haste in order to please his Queen.
Taking advantage of your blissful visage, he stealthily made his way to the branch beside you, and with a smile, greeted you with his usual flair. “Why hello there, my little Trickster!~” He hummed.
You startled, the force of your flinching caused you to tip over and lose your balance on the branch you sat upon. Anticipating the worst and a whole lot of pain, you squeezed your eyes shut and waited for your body to hit the ground. Instead, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle your waist and pull you into a bridal carry before landing gracefully onto the grass. Still a bit panicked, you giggled and waited for your heart to return to a steady pace.
“Oh la la, you must be more careful little Trickster! Who knows what could’ve happened if you had managed to hurt yourself before Vil’s beauty session,” he chided with a sly grin.
The expression was wiped from his face when you joked about falling for him, a rosey pink flushing his face before a boisterous laugh bellowed from his chest. You were carried to Vil’s room with the sound of flowery poetry filling your ears by a very clingy huntsman.
Silver
Of course.
Of course, you had to be used as a human lifting weight for the one and only living boombox on campus because of a stupid bet.
During a joint gym class with a few of the upperclassmen, one of the Savanaclaw brats made a passing remark toward the knights of Drogonia, calling them pampered and weak enough to hide behind their master like scared puppies. Sebek, never being one to take a pass at his master with stride, challenged them to prove just how strong the students of Diasomnia truly are (and also to preserve the reputation of his beloved Waka-Sama).
It started off simple enough, with strength and stamina tests to gauge their results. But eventually, as all things of this world tend to be, things got a bit chaotic and you were once again dragged into someone else’s mess.
Somehow it had been decided that you were to be thrown into the air like a medicine ball, and whoever threw you higher was the tiebreaker. No matter how much you voiced your concerns and disagreements, it was you against the various students of two of the most powerful dorms in the school. You had no other choice but to agree, and reluctantly you prepared to get the most violent motion sickness known to mankind.
Just as you felt Sebek’s arms around your waist, you knew you were going to regret this choice, and with a scream, you were launched into the air. Unfortunately, in came a gust of wind so powerful it swept you away and forced you to land in the midst of tree branches. Despite the dizziness of being thrown, you heard a soft voice call to you in concern.
“Prefect,” Silver shouted. His face revealed little of his worry, but you could tell by the clenching of his fist that he was close to climbing up there himself to retrieve you. “Are you alright? Can you try to get down from there?”
Before you could answer, the creaking of wood sounded through the air as another gust shook the tree and caused it to sway. The motion alongside your weight caused the thin cluster of branches to snap and hurl you toward the silver-haired knight.
With a swift leap, you found yourself caught by a pair of strong arms and a warm chest as Silver landed gracefully back onto the forest floor. His arms squeezed you closer to him, as if he was afraid of dropping you or worse, losing you to the wind once again. Your face burned in both embarrassment and the fluttering of your heart as you looked into his eyes.
Silver barely got a chance to ask if you were harmed before the words left your mouth. Immediately, he dropped you in shock. He apologized, of course, and helped you back to your feet but you couldn’t help but notice the flushed tips of his ears and the way he’d avoid looking you in the eye.
I may have forgotten about the established relationships you mentioned in your ask whoopsie (+_+’) but I hope you enjoy this! It was really fun to write 🧡
I hope my work fulfilled your fantasy~ -GN
#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst imagines#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#rook hunt#rook hunt x reader#silver vanrouge#silver twisted wonderland#silver x reader#;golden requests
506 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
qualityghosthumanprofessor
la_renna
justashamwithwastedpotential
a whole disaster
mermayzing
mermayzing
tekuse
TeKuse-Basic Technology Use
whendidmythoughtsgocrazy
daydreaming