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whateveriwant · 5 months

Note

might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;

Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader

Price

Three words: full body massage

That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)

He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his

He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin

Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted

Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)

By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut

Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone

Ghost

We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in

…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is

Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)

You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work

He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home

He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name

I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses

Gaz

He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening

First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining

Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off

The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes

When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet

He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it

Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion

Soap

‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck

However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up

He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you

Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)

He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting

And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there

By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…

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steddiealltheway · 1 year

Text

Thinking about Steve who has not a single idea about how social media works, but he downloads a few things like Instagram and Twitter only to check in on the kids. Other than that, he has zero knowledge of pop culture and kind of lives in that blissful bubble. Every once in a while, the kids will get a bit exasperated with him, but he enjoys listening to them explain things - and he knows they secretly love being able to rehash all the gossip.

And honestly, being out of the loop has it’s perks. Especially when he’s on a plane to Los Angeles, California to visit the Byers while they’re there for a concert and to do some sightseeing in the meantime. He’s sat next to someone who sits by the window seat but wears a baseball cap and sunglasses, curly hair tied back in a ponytail. He seems strangely on edge - maybe suffering from a hangover or scared of flying.

Steve can’t help but tap him on the arm. When the stranger turns, he has his mouth in a flat line looking strangely done with the conversation before it’s even begun. “Sorry, I was just going to ask if you’re okay,” Steve says.

The man frowns and tilts his head. He hesitates to reply, “Yes, I’m just… a bit on edge.”

“Tell me about it. This is my first time on a plane.”

The stranger’s mouth twitches. “Is it really?”

“Yeah. What about you?” Steve asks.

“I’ve been on hundreds of planes - would rather be on the road though,” the stranger says reaching up to grab at the end of his ponytail and twirl it around his finger.

Steve smiles and replies, “I get that. I’m Steve by the way.” He holds his hand out to the stranger who eyes it wearily.

“Eddie,” he replies quietly and shakes his hand.

Steve gets distracted by the rings on his hands and finds himself asking about them. The stranger looks at him for a moment, and, even with the sunglasses on, Steve can tell Eddie is strangely taken aback. Steve is about to take it back and apologize for… mentioning the rings? But Eddie points to the first one and explains.

The rest of the plane ride goes well, amazingly well even. Steve finds himself chatting away with Eddie and throughly enjoying his company - especially when he holds his hand while the plane takes off. He especially enjoys the moment when Eddie briefly takes his sunglasses out to look at the clouds, and Steve gets to see his beautiful brown eyes.

A range of emotions pass through those eyes before Eddie puts the sunglasses back on. Steve almost asks him to keep them off - entranced by the way they express everything he’s thinking. But that can be a dangerous thing, so he doesn’t press him about it.

When the captain announces that they’re about to land, Steve is truly upset to think about not getting the chance to see Eddie again. Maybe it’s the fact that Steve has taken a risk and finally left Indiana for once or maybe Eddie’s just one of the first people he’s hit it off with in a long time, but Steve asks, “Do you want to get coffee? After we land.”

Eddie’s tongue rests on his top lip, tracing it back and forth as he considers it. He finally responds, “I would love to, but I have an appointment as soon as we land.”

Steve lets the disappointment settle in him but tries his best not to let it show. “It’s alright.”

But Eddie fidgets with his rings, tongue still resting on his top lip as he debates something. “Do you have an Instagram?” He asks.

Steve laughs bashfully. “I do, but I never use it. Well, I do sometimes just to keep track of some kids I used to babysit honestly, like Dustin who I told you about.”

Eddie’s smile turns into a full blown grin. “Of course. Well, do you mind if I get your Instagram so I can message you with when I’m free? I would give you my number but… I’m afraid of it getting out. Not that you would do that but… people listening and whatnot…” Eddie spins his rings so anxiously fast that it makes Steve nearly laugh.

“Yes, I hope I remember it correctly because I didn’t come up with it,” Steve confesses. Eddie passes him his phone with the notes app open. He types in steve.the.hair.harrington and hands the phone back.

Eddie takes it back and laughs as he reads it. “It’s fitting,” he explains and reaches out to mess with a few strands.

“I try my best,” Steve replies with a shrug, wondering how he can get Eddie to touch his hair again.

“My hair stylist would love you,” Eddie says then freezes.

Steve smiles. “You have a hair stylist?”

Eddie struggles to respond but is given an out as the plane finally lands. He’s immediately reaching out to grab Steve’s hand, and he forgets all about the question.

Eddie doesn’t let go until people start making their way off the plane, using his hand to tilt his baseball cap a little lower and tuck in on himself. It’s as if he’s trying to avoid having someone see him, but Steve doesn’t want to pry so he doesn’t ask.

Eddie follows Steve off the plane and glances around once they get to the terminal. Then, he quickly pulls him into a hug and whispers, “Thank you for a normal flight.”

Steve has no idea what he means by that, but he just squeezes him back tighter. Eddie pulls away and lingers in his arms. Steve wants more than anything to take off his sunglasses and look into his eyes again.

There’s a sound of a camera going off that has Eddie jumping away and putting his hands in his pockets. “Think we’re near someone famous?” Steve jokes.

“Oh, I know we are,” Eddie says with a small smile that makes it seem like he knows something that Steve doesn’t. Before he can ask, Eddie is saying, “I hope I’ll see you again. Goodbye, Steve.” And with that he’s rushing off, pulling his baseball cap a little lower and directing his gaze towards the ground.

He’s strange, but Steve likes him.

The rest of his day, he has a spring in his step. And by the time he gets to his hotel, he collapses on his bed with a sigh of relief. He pulls out his phone and checks for any notifications before he realizes his phone has been on airplane mode. He turns it off and waits for a message from Robin or Dustin to appear on his screen.

Instead, he’s bombarded with notification after notification - including 27 missed calls from Dustin. He calls him immediately.

The phone rings for not even a second before Dustin is answering with a scream of, “Steve Harrington, why have you not answered your phone?!”

“I’ve been sightseeing. Is everything okay?”

“Check the photos I sent you!”

Steve rushes to his messages, finding them filled with people he hasn’t heard from in years. He ignores that and goes to his pinned messages with Dustin. He clicks on the first picture he sees.

It’s a poor quality photo of him and Eddie hugging in the terminal. He swipes to find a photo of him and Eddie holding hands on the plane. Then another one of him lingering in Eddie’s arm looking… very smitten. “Dustin where did you get these?” Steve asks swiping and even coming across a video of them talking on the plane, with Steve laughing as Eddie dramatically tells some sort of tale.

“Better question, how did this even happen Steve? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Steve is thoroughly confused. “Dustin, I just met Eddie today. But seriously, how did you get these?”

There’s a pause on the other line and a breathed out, “Oh my god.” He can hear Dustin take a deep breath before he asks, “Steve, please tell me that you know who Eddie Munson is.”

“His last name is Munson?”

There’s a muffled scream on the other line before Dustin is launching into a speech about how Eddie is one of the most famous up and coming artists right now. And yeah Corroded Coffins does sound familiar, but it doesn’t click until Dustin explains that’s who Steve and the Byers are going to see in concert.

Oh.

Steve thinks back and everything clicks - especially the number of people who were staring at him and trying to sneak photos while he was out. He scrolls to a screenshot of a Twitter post with the caption, “did anyone else know that eddie munson has a boyfriend???”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Dustin, how many people think we’re dating?”

“The entire internet so basically the whole world,” Dustin says, and Steve doesn’t have time to even process that statement before Dustin is yelling, “Oh my god!”

“What?”

“Eddie Munson just liked a photo I was tagged in! Holy shit, he’s seen my face!”

“Yeah, dude, I told him all about you on the plane,” Steve says. And boy, that probably will not help with the kid’s ego.

Steve opens his Instagram, ignoring Dustin’s little screams on the other line, and takes in the sheer number of notifications. He quickly goes to his requests in his messages and finds one from therealeddiemunson. “Hey, Dustin, what does a blue checkmark mean?”

Dustin groans on the other line asking why it was Steve who got to meet him before finally explaining it. Steve accepts the request and stares at the message hey, you still on for that coffee?

Steve clicks on Eddie’s profile and his heart thuds. He’s pretty sure people aren’t supposed to have a “K” in their follower count. He looks at the recent photos and feels himself turn a bit red. He almost has no clue how the Eddie he met on the plane and Eddie Munson are the same guy.

“Dustin, if I turned down Eddie Munson for coffee would you ever be able to forgive me?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I swear to god I will never let my mom bake anything for you again.”

Steve laughs and with that he goes back to the messages and sends Absolutely :)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #this deleted three times while I was writing this #I nearly gave up

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drabblesandimagines · 10 days

Text

Swingin'

Leon Kennedy x female reader, established relationship, absolutely fluffy nonsense once again

“Stand here for me, ma’am.”

You giggle at the odd term of address as familiar hands maneuverer you forward into position by your hips, the owner of said hands stepping back in front of you when they seemed happy with your positioning.

“Now, put your left index finger on your nose.”

You roll your eyes. “You can’t seriously be making your girlfriend take a field impairment test.”

Leon crosses his arms, trademark smirk on his lips. “Oh, I’m serious, sweetheart. Left index finger – go.”

You swallow down a hiccup as you follow his order, finding your nose with ease and smile, triumphantly.

“Now with your right.”

That one doesn’t go as smooth, your finger sliding down the side and prodding yourself in the cheek before you reposition, finding it at last. “Oops.”

“Arms straight down by your sides.” You comply at once, straightening your posture as you do. “Place your left foot directly in front of your right, heel touching toes.”

That one is a little more tricky to follow, you admit, but you think you’ve nailed it after a little bit of shuffling, though your boyfriend doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“Walk forward – heel to toe every step and count aloud.”

“Heel to toe…” You mutter, looking down at your feet. “One.” You swing your right leg round a bit too dramatically and your foot lands too far in front of your left but you persevere.

“Two.” Another big step forward has you throwing your arms out for balance.

“Arms straight down by your sides, sweetpea.” Leon chides.

You huff, dropping them back down and scoot your foot backward, before stepping forward with the other. “Three…”

Unfortunately, you step too far off to the right, nearly losing your balance completely before Leon steadies you with a firm grip on your elbow.

“Yep, you are 100% not riding on the back.”

“But I promise to hold on real tight.” You press your face into his chest then, wrapping your arms around his waist in demonstration and giving a firm squeeze to show off your strength.

“Not a risk I’m willing to take.” Leon wraps his arms around you in return and presses a kiss to your crown. All it would take was for you to let go around a corner and…

He shudders, can’t even bear to imagine any further. Nope, not happening.

“I’m sorry.” Your words are muffled, feeling like an annoyance. “I really didn’t think I’d drank that much.”

And you hadn’t, it had only really hit you when you’d exited the bar into the fresh air to meet Leon on the sidewalk. He’d parked his bike a block or so away from the venue and that short, stumbled walk had set alarm bells ringing.

“I’m sure you didn’t, little lightweight that you are.” He teases. “Come on, it’s not too far a walk from here anyway – might help you sober up.”

You pull your head back and look up at him, brows furrowed. “What about your bike?”

He looks at it – his prized Ducati, security lock already in place from when he left it to walk towards the bar – and shrugs. “I can get it in the morning.”

“Uh-uh,” you step back, Leon loosening his arms as you do but still keeping you close. “You take the bike and I’ll walk home. Ooh, I could jog alongside!”

Leon smiles in amusement, but shakes his head. “Not happening.”

You look down at your feet, double-checking you were in fact wearing flats and not heels when Leon doesn’t take you seriously. He’s in his military-grade boots, as usual. You’re not sure how they can be comfortable to walk in, steel-capped toes, but he never seems to complain.

“Okay, how about you wheel it home as I walk?”

“Why are you so concerned about me leaving my bike?”

“Are you kidding me? You have the worst luck with it. If you leave it here, it’ll get stolen or hit by a truck, or… struck by lightning.”

“And my insurance covers all of those.” He turns you, gently, one arm snug around your waist and encourages you to take a step forward. “Come on, let’s get home.”

You wrap an arm tentatively around his waist in return and only make it a few steps before your insecurities arise. “Leon…”

“Mm?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not at all, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hip in reassurance. “Why would I be? You had fun, right?”

“Yeah, I did.” You nod, thinking back over the evening. You’d met up with your friends to catch-up over some cocktails, a rare evening where you’d all happened to be free. “It was so nice seeing them all. Tabitha’s been through two boyfriends since the last time we managed it.”

“She still dating jerks?” He frowns, familiar with her tales of dating woe.

“Sadly. Are you sure there’s no suitable guys at your work?”

“Oh, I’m one of a kind, baby,” he chuckles. “Don’t wanna set her up for disappointment.”

“Maybe this one will be diff… Ooh, look!” You point just up ahead, your attention span apparently at an all-time low. “They finally finished the renovations!”

The playpark had been taped off for a while – the equipment old and outdated and more than a little bit dangerous. You pull away from him and race through the gate, making a beeline for the swings. Leon jogs behind you, stopping a few feet in front of the swing-set and places his hands on his hips as you plonk yourself down and kick your feet against the fresh tarmac.

“I don’t think you’re the demographic they’re looking for, sweetheart.”

“Says you.” You tease, the agent having a handful of more years on you. “When’s the last time you sat on a swing anyway?”

“I dunno, 30 years ago?”

“Long overdue.” You jerk your head at the swing besides you. “Bet I can swing higher than you can.”

He tilts his head and smiles. “I’m sure you can.”

“Leon, come on.” You pout, scuffing your soles on the tarmac again as you swing half-heartedly back and forth. “Please?”

How could he ever say no to that face?

He rolls his eyes and walks over to the swing, sitting down heavily as instructed, wrapping his fingers around the chains. “Happy?”

“Uh-uh, not until you swing, Kennedy.” You kick your feet against the ground in demonstration, picking up some height and speed as Leon follows suit.

You look at him and grin as the two of you begin to swing in sync, getting higher and higher. Leon’s smile only grows wider as the wind rushes through his hair.

It takes him back for a moment – back to before he knew what Umbrella and BOWs were. He still has his jokes, of course, but it had been a while since he’d allowed himself to be a little bit silly.

You just make it far too easy.

He scuffs his boots against the ground to slow down his movement and watches as you follow suit, tilting your head in concern.

“You okay?”

“Mm-hm. Come here,” he pats his lap and you jump off mid-swing, somehow managing to keep upright. Leon rolls his eyes and stops his swing completely as you step over and drop yourself sideways onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck for stability.

“I can’t ride on the back of your bike, but I can sit on your lap whilst you swing, huh?”

“Uh-uh,” he lets go of the chain and cups your face. “I just wanted a kiss.”

He closes the gap then with a soft kiss, one full of utter adoration – not too firm, but one that makes your scalp tingle as his lips caress yours, over and over.

He pulls away to lean his forehead against yours.

“I love you, sweetheart. Thanks for keeping me young.”

You let go of his neck to pat his chest, chidingly. “Come on, you’re not that old. You were swinging pretty high.”

“Yeah, guess I was.” The cocky grin crosses his face then. “Higher than you, actually.”

“Uh-uh”, you shake your head, adamantly. “You just think that cos you’re a little bit taller.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

But he’s lost you, your attention fixed on something over his shoulder. “Ooh, they’ve got a new slide too!”

You make Leon try every piece of play equipment before finally heading home, but his smile never drops.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

Comments and reblogs make my whole day x

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff

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tired-biscuit · 11 months

Note

farmer boy!kiri driving me insane as per usua

he’s everyone in town’s favorite guy!! big and dependable and so funny!! local housewives make it a point to wear their prettiest dresses to go and visit his stand at the local market.. but he doesn’t fall for it..

doesn’t fall for anyone until you move into town.. you work at the local bakery and sometimes visit him when the bakery needs an expedited egg delivery..

he’s so smitten with you, you’re pretty, smart and he can’t take his eyes off of you.. makes it a point to lift the heaviest things when you’re around in an effort to impress you..

little does he know how smitten you are with him.. how you purposely promote custards and egg tarts just so that your bakery needs more eggs and milk.. and you have an excuse to go see him again <3

all these meet-cutes until he finally works up the courage to ask you on a picnic.. where he lets you feel his muscles like you’ve been dying to from the start.. where he lets you take off his overalls and lifts up your skirt..

where the sun warms his and yours’ skin and where only the flowers know what happened next :3

(he ate you out and bred u <3)

18+ / fem!reader

you’ve been dying to touch and feel his biceps for the longest time now because you’ve seen the way they tighten and turn exceptionally prominent whenever he picks up and tosses those big sacks of flour that you keep ordering for your bakery from him and him only.

he always greets you in the friendliest way possible whenever he swings by to deliver you the goods; a polite nod of his head and a warm “hey there, darlin’” never fail to make you weak in the knees. the combination of it, that’s sometimes even accompanied by a rather playful wink, turns your brain to goddamn mush. goodness, you’re so into him that it’s getting kind of absurd!

but to be fair, how couldn’t you be? he’s pure eye candy, with his sharp facial features, fiery eyes and messy hair of the exact same shade that he keeps tied back with the help of a single elastic, and that exposes the sides of his neck, as well as the nape, in the most delicious of ways.

his skin is tan and sun-kissed from many days spent working outside under the blazing sun, and his back is broad; he carries any kind of weight with seemingly no trouble at all. the faded, well worn jeans that he usually throws on whenever he drives to town make his ass and thighs look absolutely divine as they hang off his hips.

the sight of them makes you feel like a sleaze from the way they coax you to ogle at him so openly again and again. stealing glances as he moves around your little storage room where you keep all your ingredients, all you can see is his tight physique, his big hands, how appealingly thick his fingers are; coated with a thin layer of white powder coming from the flour.

he’s a working man, oftentimes dirty with sweat and grime whenever you just happen to be passing by his land and spot him coming back from the fields, but surprisingly enough, he keeps his nails clean whenever he comes to see you.

and it doesn’t stop just at the nails. even his face lacks the sheen of sweat his line of work usually tends to induce, because unbeknownst to you, he doesn’t leave the house before he scrubs it clean. his signature white t-shirts — each one usually adorned with a logo of his favourite sports team — are crisp and constantly smell of pleasant laundry detergent; like they’ve been freshly washed every single time. and if his hair just happens to be a mess that day — stubborn strands, bedhead and whatnot — he makes sure to hide it underneath his trusty baseball cap just so you don’t have to see it.

altogether, it shows that he’s trying to impress you. that he’s putting in the effort.

and that effort is almost enough to make an already smitten girl like yourself admit defeat and fold right then and there; in the storage room of your little bakery. to make you rest the flat of your palms against one of the shelves, and bend right over at the middle.

until the fat of your ass is peeking from underneath your pretty sundress, no panties in sight, and he’s got drool nearly dripping from his mouth at the discovery. until his fat cock is nice and snug, sheathed inside your soft cunt, and his heavy balls are tightening from the way you’re invitingly wiggling your hips against him and hurrying to make him all sticky and wet with your arousal so that he can slide in even further, even deeper.

just by looking at him, you know he’d fuck you nice and slow, and so deep that it’d make hearts form in your eyes right before they’d cross. quiet grunts would fill your ear, his breathing ragged as it tickles the side of your neck and cheek. his calloused hands would be warm against your hips; dusting flour over your dress and skin, and providing a steady weight that you could lean on and rest your tired body against any time you’d wish.

there’d be constant pressure in your lower belly — overhelming but the good kind nevertheless. the slapping of skin against skin, the stretch, the sweat coating both of your brows. the pounding, the pleasure, the passion that’d be so intense that you’d end up feeling it in the goddamn marrow of your bones even.

and then, the climax. the white noise and bliss as every nerve end buzzes with electricity that’s powerful but mellow at the same time. the feeling of warm cum eventually leaking from your poor little pussy, down your thighs, dripping onto the floor; causing a mess you both chuckle at whilst cleaning afterwards.

his forehead pressing against your spine as he hunches his back because of the prominent height difference and waits for his cock to slowly soften whilst it’s still inside of you, still stretching your velvety walls. your clothes sticking to your salt-riddled bodies as you attempt to catch your breaths and not say anything too brash or embarrassing to each other.

you want him to rail you and fuck your brains out in this tiny storage room so bad. he’s just such a… man. bulky and strong, simple and endlessly kind. his heart is as big as his tits are, and much like the rest of him, you can’t help but leer at them, too as the mixture of the summer heat and your baked delights turns too much for him to bare in that exact moment and he swiftly loses the crisp white t-shirt just so that he can survive it.

watching him as he throws it over his shoulder and keeps it there, you start to think that you could take such good care of him. that he could take such good care of you. you can already see it; a cozy house, a couple of kids. hard work, animals and endless love. fresh lemonade and cookies. creaky wooden furniture and movie nights on the world’s comfiest couch. domestic bliss.

he’s the type to kiss you goodbye and hello again whenever he walks through the front door.

your daydreams end abruptly when he tosses the last sack of flour onto the neat little pile and turns around to look at you with a face that’s all of a sudden vividly red like a tomato; from his neck to his forehead, from one ear to the other.

you’re still blinking, sweetly batting your eyelashes up at him by the time he finally gathers enough courage to ask you a question you’d thought you’d never get the chance to hear from him.

he wants to take you out on a date, huh?

#he’s so sweet oml #i’m meltingggg!!!#kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima smut #biscuit drabbles

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yanderenightmare · 8 months

Text

Deku - Midoriya Izuku

TW: NSFW, dubcon, f!reader, asshole Hero Deku

Just thinking about Deku’s fangirl.

How lucky you felt when he took you home after you’d asked for his autograph in a bar – thinking about the expectations you had, how many times you’d imagined Hero Deku singing sweet praises in your ear as he made sweet love to you oh-so-softly – and thinking about how hard you choked on your spit when you understood just how far away those fantasies were from the truth as he fucks you like you’re shooting a hardcore porn-video.

His hand presses down hard on your face, mushing your head halfway into the white hotel pillow while his other hand fists the band of your skirt to keep you up in a pretty slope as he pounds your puffy cunt only in harsh slaps – hips clapping your ass as he uses your skirt to pull you back to meet the sharp thrusts as though you’re but a means to an end to make him cum.

Oh, but you’d been Deku’s number-one fan for years, and you’d been so giddy and excited as he’d paid for the hotel in the reception, feeling so lucky and honored, unable to fathom how any of it was even happening. Biting your lip with shy eyes blinking sheepishly, thinking of how sweet and gentle he would be in bed – so, so, so surprised when he had you pushed flat against the elevator wall with two of his fingers hooked on your tongue to make you yelp out a moan while his other hand found your cunt and squeezed the mound as though staking a claim.

You don’t really enjoy it when it’s rough – it scares you, to say the least – but this is the number-one hero, and you’re not so confident to protest when you feel you should be grateful that he’s at all touching you – even though it feels like he’s running your stomach through.

Looking over your shoulder, you can spot tattoos you’ve never seen on screen, the tribal kind that you’d expect to see only on gang members and otherwise other types of bad guys you’d not want touching you at all. He’s also wearing chains, the slim silver kind douchebags wear and compare. He’s even got fat rings on his fingers, digging into your skin where he pressures down on your face with his thumb hooked in your cheek to keep you singing mewls for him while he swings into you from behind harder and harder each time – grinning when watching how you grip the sheets in whitened knuckles as your whole body jumps on every impact.

He tips you over after a while, but missionary had never felt so threatening as he immediately locks your throat in a fist – his lips ghosting your parted ones with grunts and hot air, green eyes salaciously enjoying the show of you gasping for breath as he fucks the moans right out of you in harsh and deep strokes hitting you in new and tender places – forcing your toes to curl in the air, thighs hiked on his hips.

His other hand holds the top of your head, blunt nails push smilies into your scalp – and it all just smothers you enough to make you cry as his lips and teeth graze your cheek with a leer. “I like my sluts like this- submissive. Taking it like happy little whores in love with getting dick in their wet cunt.”

It’s not the type of sweet talk you wanted, but still, his low and gravely grunting voice forms a fist in your belly and makes you tighten on the fat shaft that has you speared. He groans at the tightness, biting your cheek as his hips stutter, shooting his load inside you without warning.

You’re in shock. Feeling the sweat between your bodies and the warmth of it inside you. You can only stare blankly up at the hotel ceiling fan and halfway wonder why you’d not thought better of it when he’d booked you into such a cheap and sleazy place.

You hear the popping of the Sharpie, but it doesn’t register. Nor does how he pushes the felt tip of it down in the softness of your tit. He scribbles something – cap held between his lips and teeth as he asks, “Wha’ was’h your name again?”

You mumble it dumbly without asking yourself why as he writes the letters on your skin. You don’t flinch when he pulls his phone from the nightstand and takes a picture with the flash on.

He doesn’t stay for long.

Actually, he doesn't stay at all. He doesn’t even shower before pulling his pants on and leaving with his shirt draped over his shoulder.

You look in the mirror after willing yourself to get up.

Your chest reads Deku, number 47, then your name.

tip-jar: Kofi

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bethanysnow · 2 months

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How I think Stray Kids Members would date a Plus Size girlfriend ~ Hyungline

Maknae line

-Bang Chan

This man deadlifts 350lb....do you think it's only for our benefit????? NAH this boy got an actually plus size gal in his minds eye. Large arms, soft shoulders, STOMACH, back???, calves???!?!?!?! Why does no one talk about calves!?! Where this man can man handle and grab and pull to his hearts delight and not break her. Lord knows one spank from him would probably break someone's pelvis if it didn't have padding.... Now I do think he would need to work on himself internally on some of his "complexes" and self image and self confidence?? I love this man to death, but you'd be reassuring him just as much as he is you. He went from the body checking capital of the world to the plastic surgery capital of the world at a formative age; it fucks with your head.

But he would love you, becoming friends would be faster than blinking, but I get the vibe it takes a while to fully trust? He trusts too easily and has been hurt by it in the past so he needs to know that you're gonna he there for him as he is you. He would 100% be the bf to make sure that there are clothes you can wear in his closet but not say anything. He's conscious of how he has insecurities and understands that it takes more than kissing it better and a love making session. It takes work. And he'd be there to remind you every step of the way how much he loves you.

-Minho

This quiet man might surprise you. Now I don't think he'd be the first to come to mind when possibility dating a plus size gf, but this man is a intelligent one. He is introspective, quiet, understanding. He is one of those people in life that either body size wouldn't even cross his mind when dating you, or he would be very conscious of it. Not in a bad way of course.

He is just very concerned about you in how people treat you because of your size, not liking that he gets treated so special cuz he happened to end up being traditionally handsome. Where he sees the mistreatment you deal with and feels protective over you. So he plans ahead, makes sure the restaurant has chairs without arms, would rather people look at him and how OH LOOK ITS LEEKNOW than make you uncomfortable that you think people are staring.

If diets and conversation around diets make you uncomfortable I can see him changing the topic even around the members if you're there. He wants you to be happy and comfortable around him. While he isn't very affectionate or loud about his love its just as deep.

Also.....you got the best ass even if its flat

-Changbin

I think for someone who goes to the gym as much as he does he would understand if someone was having bad experiences tied to it? Like he is paid to work out and have a nutritionist and a stylist and all these team members. Not everyone has that. So he wouldn't pressure you into going with him unless you wanted to go. If you did though he'd be the first one to brag to everyone that you can out-leg press him. It would be the first thing in the group chat in all caps.

Dating Changbin, it is so domestic? I imagine? Like you start dating and he is just this big ol' teddy bear and he would feel so honored if you let yourself be timid around him. Being plus size (insecure or not) you have to have a thick skin, you grow to defend yourself, you protect your heart because people have been cruel and society is a bitch. In doing so the walls are a bit higher, and the fortress is a bit more imposing. But with Binnie, he is a hug that is open anytime anywhere. The absolute pride in his man once you allow yourself to lean on him, or dare to lay on his chest while cuddling? ahhh thats the good stuff

I also think he would be the first one to defend you, knowing the boys love language is poking fun he wouldn't have it if it was you. Be prepared to be presented with one of the boys' heads in a headlock by Binnie if they say anything. He is your knight in shinning armor and will make sure you are laughing and smiling and having a good time. Also he like chan feels more at ease knowing you aren't gonna break if you two get up to something more rough or naughty in the bedroom. Even on a more innocent path just knowing you aren't gonna judge him for how he looks like he doesn't judge yours makes his heart soar.

-Hyunjin

Hyunjin I think would have the most obstacles in regard to dating someone of size. Not that I don't think he wouldn't, but I think with the Korean beauty standard he has a lot of internal stuff he needs to work out before he could be in a healthy relationship. He knows what its like to be judged on only by how you look. He wouldn't want that for you or any of his friends, so I think he would be friends to lovers? You are a great deal of a reality check for him, when he gets very internal and in his head about stuff he goes to you.

So by the time he figures out he has a crush on you his entire art book has already started to look like Renaissance drafts of plus-size women. Starts seeking out media and art that reminds him of you. I don't even think hes conscious that he's doing it? I think it feels like an itch he can't scratch just right and its driving him insane because he doesn't know how to pin down this feeling. Not in art, not in lyrics, it evades him. Till he is standing in front of you, at your apartment, with an Idol worthy bouquet of flowers. Opening his heart and hoping you don't reject him.

Which....would never happen? Your relationship is one of the ages, he writes songs about you, and draws you constantly. In-person he has to be near you, even as simple as playing with your jewelry or showing you memes on his phone while you eat silently side by side. It is a love that is comfort, its like warm clothes out of the dryer for hyunjin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@7ndipity @kaciidubs @itshannjisung @dreamescapeswriting @moonlightndaydreams

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #Hyung line #Leeknow x reader #Lee Minho #bang chan #Changbin x reader #Binnie x reader #Hyunjin X reader #plus size reader #skz x plus size reader #skz X reader #skz x you #skz imagines #hyunjin #leeknow

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d0youc0py · 3 months

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I’ve been seeing so much ex husband price stuff on here and it’s making me drool. So I’m contributing some ex husband/not divorced yet but taking a break for vague reasons but you both still deeply love each other TF 141….Also this is sappy, dramatic and not accurate character portrayal—just let me live in denial!

“Johnathan, it’s 1 am.” You groaned, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Go back to bed, Honey.” He muttered back quickly. You shot him a glare at the term of endearment. He was balancing a flashlight between his teeth, his back mostly turned to you.

“Are you fixing that window?” You questioned, turning on the overhead light. He must’ve not wanted to wake you. He took the flashlight out of his mouth, looking over his shoulder at you. His chest swelled at the sight of you in one of his shirts. It took every ounce of self restraint not to wrap you up in his arms. “I told you over the phone I hired someone to come and fix it.” You yawned.

“And have some stranger traipsing through the house.” He huffed. You watched as his arms flexed at even the slightest movements. You hated these moments of weakness. It was the same reason why you couldn’t fall asleep unless you were wearing one of his shirts. Or the same reason you would light a cigar like it was incense. The same reason why you always answered his daily calls. Then you’d remember why you wanted a divorce in the first place. It always felt like someone dumping cold water on you.

And thats exactly how you felt now.

“That’s not your problem anymore, John.” You reminded. His blood ran cold. Yet he kept up his unbothered appearance.

“Never a problem, Honey.” He assured, still keeping his back to you. You sighed running a hand over your face.

“I just- I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to just show up whenever you want. It’s my house right? That’s what you agreed to. It’s not just some motel you can show up at whenever you want to feel needed.” You spat. His body was still and ridged. His teeth ached from the tight clenching of his jaw and the pain in his chest was wince worthy.

“I know.” He said slowly. “I just want you to know I’ll always take care of you, Honey.” He began to turn towards you but stopped himself. He couldn’t stand to see the look on your face.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, John.” You continued. “I was able to survive before you and when you left me every other month.” You don’t know why you were being so forceful with him. Maybe it was because you hadn’t physically seen him in a few weeks.

“Well maybe I’m not doing it for you, hmm?” He shot back, finally facing you. His eyes were just as red the day you walked out of the lawyers office. “You made your decision, but that doesn’t mean you just stopped being the most important thing in my life. So yeah, I’m going to drop by if I feel I need to because I vowed to always take care of you and no fucking paper you make me sign is going to take that away from me. If you don’t like that you can get a restraining order.”

He didn’t even have a moment to catch his breath before your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Hey, Cap.” You smiled into your phone. Calls from Price were kinda common- he just liked to check up on you here and there, but you could tell by the sigh on the other end this wasn’t going to be about you.

“Hey, Kiddo.” He started. “I catch you at a good time?” He questioned.

“Yeah, just watching TV. Everything alright?” You questioned back. There was another sigh on his end, and it sounded like he was taking a drag of his cigar.

“No one’s hurt.” He was trying to pick his words carefully. “It’s ’bout Simon, though.”

“Okay.” You responded slowly. Just the mention of Simon’s name had a small tremor rise in your body. It’s not like you had gone no-contact with him. He called you a few times a week just to ask if you needed anything, if anything in the flat needed to be fixed, or just to make sure you locked all the windows before going to sleep. “You’re building up a lot of suspense here, Cap.” You offered a fake chuckle.

“Sorry.” He paused again and you wanted to rip your hair out. “He’s just- I know it’s really none of my business what happened between the two of you but he’s not doing good, Love.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s doing fine work-wise. But I’m worried about him personally. He’s droppin’ weight, smoking a couple packs a day, drinkin’ when he knows he’s not suppose to be. When he’s not doing that he just sits and stares. Johnny has to check his pulse sometimes.” It was his turn to offer you a chuckle. Another pause and drag. A few fat tears rolled down your cheeks and Price ran a hand over his face when he heard you sniffle. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I also know you would get after me if I didn’t. Now you don’t owe him anything, but I think just a call from you would help him out a lot.”

“You think he’s doing this because of me?” You whispered.

“Course.” Price responded immediately. He cringed at himself. “What I mean to say is, you’re that man’s ‘reason.’ You get what I’m saying? Men like me and him need a reason. A reason to come home. A reason to be better. A reason to just get our asses out of bed at the crack of dawn. Like I said you don’t owe him anything, Kiddo, but I think just hearing your voice would do him some good.”

“Thank you, Price. For looking out for him and me.” You said sincerely.

“It’s what I get paid for.” He shot back with a laugh. You rolled your eyes, pressing the big red button after a ‘goodbye’. Your swollen eyes raked over the wedding photos you still had hanging in the living room. You couldn’t not call him. You wondered how long he’d been acting like this. Had he been doing it the whole time you had been separated? You rubbed at your eyes working up the courage to press his contact in your phone.

It only rang once before he answered.

“You alright?” He asked quickly.

“Yeah.” You replied, taking a deep breath. “Just calling to check in.” You said slowly. You heard him breathe a sigh of relief.

“Checkin’ in on me?” He repeated. Your heart ached at the thought that he seemed to think you didn’t care about him.

“That okay?” You urged. He hummed in agreement. “If you’re busy I can call bac”-

“Not busy.” He cut off. “What’ve you been up to?” You heard some shuffling and it sounded like he was getting into bed. You wondered what time it was wherever he was in the world.

“Nothing too interesting. I got a new cat! She’s an older tabby who’s seen some things, but she’s a Sweetheart.” You rambled on smiling.

“She probably thinks she’s in heaven with you.” He snickered. You giggled at his words and his eyes shut tightly trying to soak up every second of it.

“Simon, is there anyway when you get back you could help me move in a new cat tower? They’re all fighting over the one we have.” Using the word ‘we’ had just become habit when talking to Simon. You didn’t even realize you had said it. But you using that word was all the ‘reason’ he needed.

“Of course. I’ll be home Wednesday. That work for you?” His heart was beating out of his chest like it did the very first time he asked you out on a date.

“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then, Si.”

*inaccurate medical rules*

Your leg bounced up and down nervously, your eyes about to burn a hole in the pale blue curtain. You were in an accident- not a major one, but you did receive a concussion.

Johnny was still your emergency contact and according to the nurses he was more than willing to pick you up.

“He’s not entirely my husband.” You began. The nurse raised his eyes from the clipboard for a split second before shrugging.

“Says it in your file and he’s still your emergency contact. He’s already on his way, but do you have anyone else we could call?” His tone was bored and you wondered how many times he had to have this conversation a day. You slowly shook your head. “Well we can’t just let you leave by yourself.” He sighed.

“I know, but I filed for divorce. He just refuses to sign it. Doesn’t that count for anything?” You pleaded. The nurse gave you a sour look.

“I can change your emergency contact so in future accidents he won’t be contacted.” You furrowed your brows at his choice of words.

“Hopefully there won’t be anymore accidents.” Your body stiffened at the all too familiar voice. The curtain was drawn back revealing your husband. He gave you a soft smile and you hated the way it settled your stomach.

“Yeah right, so change your emergency contact or no?” The nurse piqued up. You shut your eyes tightly, shaking your head side to side. You wished the floor would swallow you. The nurse looked between you and Johnny before giving you two some privacy.

“I’m sorry about all this, John.” You sighed standing up. “They wouldn’t let me leave without someone signing for me. If you could just walk me out, I can call an Uber.”

“John?” He repeated, in a whisper. It was probably just intended for himself. His chest tightened. No nicknames. He partly hoped that this experience would’ve softened you. Made you happy to be alive. Make you want to wrap your arms around him and call off the whole ‘divorce’ thing. He can picture all the times you sprawled out on his chest, whispering into his skin how safe you felt with him. Now here you were inching yourself away from him like he would ever hurt you. “I’d rather take you home.” He pressed.

“It’s seriously okay John”-

“Enough with the formalities.” He snipped. Your eyes widened and he groaned at his mistake. “You’re discounting everything we’ve been through together. Treating me like some stranger.” He growled out.

“Well what am I suppose to do? Hmm? You want me to call you ‘Mac’ again. Or any of the other ridiculous nicknames I made up for you? Well I’m not going to do that! You were good to me for so many years, Johnny- please don’t think I have forgotten that. But this last year it’s like I haven’t even existed to you. You’re taking every single job that is thrown your way like you don’t even want to be with me anyone, so I’m just doing what you do obviously want but aren’t going to say.” Your voice shook and tears dropped from your eyes, but you held your ground. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes red from holding back what you had already given up hiding.

“You think I want this? I”-

“Hey, as much as this has been the highlight of my week, we actually need your bed back.” The nurse interrupted, peaking his head through the curtains. Your flushed but nodded your head in understanding. Johnny was hot on your trail following you out. The cold air felt nice against your heated body and you turned to Johnny waiting for him to make the first step.

“I’m sorry for gettin’ on you in there.” He sighed. He shifted on his feet. “I just miss you.” His eyes refused to meet yours knowing it would cause him to break. He opened and closed his mouth trying to find the words to how desperately he wanted you in his life.

“For a man who loves to talk you sure are having a hard time.” You sniffled, wiping at your still streaming eyes.

That was all he needed to let it out. It was sloppy and unfiltered, but yet it shattered your world and everything you thought you knew about the man and how he felt about you.

You saw him at the store. It wasn’t the first time you had run into him- actually you two seemed to be bumping into each other all over the place. And without hesitation every single time he would flee the scene like you were some bully from high school he ran into. The same thing happened tonight. You both turned into the same aisle, stared at each other for a moment, then he dropped his basket and charged out the door.

You had already made up your mind weren’t going to let him go this easy.

You rushed after him, at a speed walk pace.

“Kyle!” You shouted after him in the parking lot. He was just opening the door to his sleek black car, one of his feet inside already. He paused for a moment, before sliding into the drivers seat. You were able to grab the door handle before he shut it on you.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He growled, beginning to tug the door back. Your hand gripped the car door and he quickly faltered not wanting to slam it shut on your fingers.

“Just let me talk, please?” You begged. Those same brown eyes that you had spent the best part of your life staring into bore coldly into yours. “I just- We keep running into each other. I just think it’s silly that we keep avoiding each other.”

“Not silly.” He shot back without missing a beat. “You don’t want me anymore, remember?” Your heart dropped.

“Ky, that’s not true”-

“Fucking save it, Y/N. You’re the one who wanted to take a break. Why don’t you just divorce me and get it over with already.” He spat. His face curled in a way that made you want to die.

“Is that what you want?” You asked quietly. He ran his hands up and down his face.

“I’m tired of your games, Lovie.” His voice held no warmth. “I want my partner back. The same person who I vowed to spend the rest of my life with. The same person I vowed to love and protect- but that person doesn’t even seem to be you anymore. I couldn’t imagine just cutting you out of my life the way you did to me. And the fact that you were able to do it fucking terrifies me. Just call me when you figure your shit out.”

He shut the door and you let him.

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roosterforme · 8 months

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Draft Day | Rooster x Reader

Summary: If Bradley knew anything about his son, he knew Everett wouldn't be happy with a normal job. Not after wishing and hoping to play major league baseball for most of his life. But when Draft Day turns out even better than expected, Bradley becomes a viral sensation.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32

"I hate flying commercial," Bradley grunted as the enormous Boeing 747 touched down on the rainy runway in Pittsburgh. "These pilots couldn't land smoothly for a million dollars."

You kissed him where he was crammed into the economy window seat, his broad shoulders hunched slightly in discomfort. "I told you before we took off to go up to the cockpit and show them how it's done."

Bradley snorted. "And I told you that even though I wanted to, we'd get kicked off the flight. And tomorrow's too important to miss by being grounded in San Diego."

Bradley reached for your hand when it was time to deboard, and he ended up practically dragging you through the airport to the baggage claim area. "Can we slow down?" you asked with a laugh.

"No. Come on, Kitten. Ev's flight from Nashville landed forty minutes ago."

"Okay, okay," you muttered as the two of you ran toward an escalator. The entire airport was swarming with media groups and college aged players hoping to get drafted by an MLB team tomorrow. And your son was one of those hopefuls.

You had barely taken a step off of the escalator when Bradley said, "I see him." And you kind of loved the way he released your hand to rush toward Everett. Your son looked tall and strong in his Vanderbilt tee shirt and backwards Phillies cap, and a second later, he was hugging your husband.

"Hey, Dad," he said with a laugh as Bradley kissed his forehead and folded him up in his arms. "Hi, Mom." And then you were pulled into the hug, too.

"Did you get your bags yet?" Bradley asked.

"The last one's coming around now," Everett replied, and he bent to pick up the long, thin luggage that must have been filled with his baseball gear. "I'm starving. Where are we eating dinner?"

---------------------------

After Everett had two enormous roast beef sandwiches filled with french fries and coleslaw, Bradley said, "I was about to ask if you were still getting enough calories every day, but I guess it's safe to assume that yes, you are."

"I'm just always hungry," Everett replied from across the booth, patting his flat belly. "I think the fact that my baseball scholarship covered the cost of food on campus saved you guys from bankruptcy."

You pushed some of your uneaten fries to the side, and Everett started picking at them. "We would have had to sell the house," you said, shaking your head as your son polished off the rest of your meal, too.

"So what's on the agenda tomorrow? What time do we have to be at the field?" Bradley asked. "Some of the kids at the airport looked really young. Are you nervous?"

Everett just shrugged. "Nah, what's the worst that can happen? I don't get drafted? I mean, I'm still not twenty two quite yet. I skipped the draft last year so I could finish college, and I have a degree now, so I could always get a normal job. Or join the navy. I already have a call sign."

But Bradley knew his son didn't want a normal job. When he'd gotten an invitation to the draft, he called Bradley immediately and told him how excited he was. "You can't wear that cap tomorrow," Bradley said with a grin.

Everett spun it around so the battered Phillies P was facing the front. "You're right," he groaned. "I'll have to retire my favorite hat! But at least that would mean I'm pitching for another MLB team, you know?"

"Yeah," Bradley said with a nod as he pulled out his credit card. "It'll be worth it."

Once the three of them were settled into the two bedroom hotel suite, Everett headed right for his room. "You know he just wants to text his girlfriend all night," you said.

"She's not my girlfriend," he replied with an eye roll. "Goodnight." And then he closed the door with his phone already in his hand.

"She's totally his girlfriend," Bradley whispered, heading for the other bedroom with you right behind him. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it next to his suitcase before dropping onto the bed.

"She totally is." You climbed into bed with him as he turned on the TV to ESPN. They were already showing live coverage of the MLB draft preparations. Reporters were interviewing coaches, and they were starting to remove some of the tarps and set up the stage at PNC Park as the rain had finally tapered off. You were just starting to get comfortable curled up on Bradley's chest when he jolted so hard you yelped.

"Baby! They're talking about Ev."

You listened to the analyst on TV as he said, "And Bradshaw out of Vanderbilt, well he skipped the draft last year to finish his degree. That's almost unheard of! But his senior year stats were his best yet, so maybe he knew what he was doing. There are a lot of National League teams looking for a young ace pitcher who can also show up at bat, and he looks like he's just going to keep getting better. He should go late in the first round or early in the second."

Bradley's eyes were wide as he laughed and rolled you onto your back. "There are literally ESPN analysts talking about our son, Kitten." Then he kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands were inside your shirt and you were giggling.

"Hey, you seem excited, Coach." Bradley groaned as his hand drifted down to the fly of your jeans. "Okay," you agreed, "but we have to be quiet." And then your jeans were off and your husband showed you exactly how excited he was.

---------------------------

"Oh my God," Bradley mumbled over and over again as the three of you headed up toward the enormous stage that had been erected on the outfield at the ballpark. The weather had mostly cleared, and the city skyline looked gorgeous lit by the late morning sun peeking through the clouds.

"Third row, Dad," Everett said, guiding them toward their assigned seats. Bradley and Everett were both wearing navy blue suits, but while Everett had chosen a neutral looking yellow and white tie, Bradley's was red. If they were going to have to start wearing a new team's jerseys and colors, he wanted to at least have one last hurrah.

Bradley let you go into the row first, and then he took the next seat so Everett could sit by the aisle. And when everything started up, the ballpark got loud. The regular seats were filled with spectators, and it was so surreal that Bradley was sitting down here with the draftee hopefuls and his own family.

You pulled out your phone and said, "Aunt Molly wants a selfie." Bradley grinned as you and Everett both leaned in closer to him and smiled. You snapped the photo and said, "I'm sure she's going to want a ridiculous selfie, too." So the three of you made obnoxious faces, and then you sent them to your sister with a giggle before letting your cheek rest on Bradley's shoulder.

It was starting to get hot in the sun now as the league commissioner made her way up onto the stage and announced that the draft was officially beginning. "Holy shit," Bradley whispered, reaching for your hand. He was so excited, practically shaking. And he cheered politely as the crowd screamed when shortstop Javier Marianas was chosen first by the Milwaukee Brewers.

"He's really good," Everett remarked, completely calm while Bradley was sweating bullets. "He went to USC and I pitched against him once. He nailed my slider."

Bradley could only grunt in response as the Toronto Blue Jays were up next. He had no idea how everyone around him was so calm when he thought he might throw up. He looked up to see the teams listed in order on the jumbotron. The Phillies had the sixth pick, which surely would never happen, but the Padres were drafting twenty third. Having Everett close to home in San Diego for most of the year would be amazing. Bradley was already crossing his fingers.

The Texas Rangers, Washington Nationals and Chicago White Sox all chose power hitters. Bradley tried to sit still while Everett told him that the player chosen by the Rangers was his roommate a decade ago at the Little League World Series. But Bradley was too distracted to listen to much of anything as members of the Phillies organization walked up onto the stage, and the clock started ticking down until their draft selection needed to be turned in.

And then Bradley could tell that while his son seemed calm on the outside, he was a little anxious after all. He saw the prominent bob of Everett's Adam's apple as he swallowed and whispered, "Would have been cool, huh Dad?"

Bradley gently let go of your hand and turned a little bit to wrap his arm around Everett's shoulders and pull him close. His son smiled at the awkward hug, and Bradley told him, "Kiddo, any team would be lucky to have you." He wanted to give him some more reassuring words, but there was nothing else to say. If Everett was selected, the team that chose him would be gaining an amazing pitcher, sure, but also a solid teammate and someone who cared about more than just himself.

So Bradley kept his arm around his son as the league commissioner returned to the microphone. There were Phillies staff members ready and waiting with a jersey and baseball cap, and they all looked excited for their new player to be announced. The commissioner cleared her throat and said, "With the sixth overall pick in this year's draft, the Philadelphia Phillies choose pitcher Everett Bradshaw."

"Holy shit," Everett whispered as he stared up at the stage with his mouth hanging open.

Bradley jolted forward in his seat as you scrambled to get your phone out again. "Holy shit," Everett and Bradley said in unison as the crowd started to cheer when Everett's stats started scrolling along the jumbotron screen.

"Ev!" you shrieked, and Bradley jumped to his feet.

"Kiddo! The Phillies!" he said, and slowly Everett rose to his feet too. "The Phillies!"

And then his son was in his arms, slapping him on the back as he said, "Dad. Oh my God! The Phillies!"

Bradley kissed his cheek and squeezed him. "The Phillies! Go up and get that fucking jersey!" And then Everett leaned in to give you a quick hug before he very gracefully walked down the aisle toward the stage.

But Bradley was absolutely losing his mind now as the cheering around them grew louder. "Yeah! The Phillies! Kitten, the fucking Phillies!" He raked his hands through his hair. "Our son is going to Philadelphia!"

"He got drafted!" you screamed over the crowd, and Bradley vaguely registered that you were holding your phone up as you jumped around.

"He got fucking drafted! By the best team in baseball!" Bradley shouted, pumping his fist in the air. And then there was a champagne bottle in his hands, and he started chugging it before screaming, "Yes!" He was jumping with you now, spraying champagne all over the place as he watched Everett take some photos on the stage in his brand new Phillies cap with the jersey held up in front of him. "That's my son! That's my son! I love you, Everett! He's a Phillie! Hell yeah!"

Bradley lunged for you and your shriek of ecstatic laughter had him scooping you into his arms. "Coach! He did it!"

He smothered you in kisses as you took the bottle from his hand and drank some of it. "That's our son! I'm so proud of him!"

"You did this, Coach! You're the one who made this happen!"

Then he shared so many champagne flavored kisses with you as Everett was escorted off the stage to riotous cheering.

-------------------------

A couple hours later, the three of you were back in the hotel room, all sticky from champagne with enormous smiles on your face. You watched as Everett kept hugging Bradley, and now both of them were wearing brand new Phillies caps turned backwards. "Thanks, Dad."

"You need to stop thanking me," Bradley replied softly. "It was all you. I'm so damn proud, Kiddo." But he did look pleased with himself. "Hey, my phone keeps blowing up. Everyone is so excited. I've got about a hundred texts from Maverick, Bob and Molly." But then Bradley froze and squinted down at his phone screen. "Charlie and Flora sent me links to a video they said went viral?"

"What is it?" you asked, but as soon as you looked at the screen, your eyes went wide. "Oh my God."

You watched as the video you had taken of Bradley screaming with the champagne bottle played on his phone.

"The Phillies! Kitten, the &%@#ing Phillies! Our son is going to Philadelphia!"

Everett erupted into laughter as Bradley just stared at the screen. "I feel like maybe I should be embarrassed?" he mumbled as he continued to watch himself spraying champagne everywhere.

"He got &%@#ing drafted! By the best team in baseball! That's my son! That's my son! I love you, Everett! He's a Phillie! Hell yeah!"

"How did Yahoo Sports get this?" Bradley asked as the video started to play again on loop. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

You were gasping as you tried to stop laughing. "I don't know! I only sent it to Molly!"

"Molly," Bradley growled, cradling his forehead in his hands as he blushed deeper.

"Dad, it's got half a million views already! This is the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life! I'm sending it to everyone I know!"

And when you turned on the TV in the hotel room, the video was playing there. And when you went back to that sandwich place for dinner, Bradley pulled his cap down lower over his face, because it was playing there, too. And you and Everett couldn't stop laughing no matter how hard you tried.

"It's okay, Coach. If you weren't the biggest Phillies fan in the world before, you certainly are now," you told him. He squeezed into the booth first and then pulled you in to shield him as the people sitting at the bar were laughing at his viral video.

"Nah, I'm just the biggest Everett Bradshaw fan in the world. But listen, we need to come up with a game plan," Bradley said, pulling up the notes section on his phone. "The Phils want you there by next month, Ev. So we all need to fly out and find you an apartment. We can pay the first month and the security deposit until you actually have your signing bonus available. And we also need to go over that contract with a lawyer when we get back home to San Diego. Kitten, can you call that lawyer in your book club?"

But you just kissed him on the cheek as Everett leaned over the table with a smile. "We'll figure it out, Dad. But actually... I was thinking after we eat dinner, you and I could go to that park down the block from the hotel? I brought all my gear with me. Maybe I could pitch to you until it gets dark?"

Bradley immediately dropped his phone onto the table and squeezed his son's hand while tears stung his eyes. "Yeah, Ev. I would love that. The perfect ending to the perfect day."

And then he watched his son eat two more huge sandwiches and half of your fries as he gushed about how excited he was to play major league baseball for his favorite team and Bradley's.

---------------------------

I love thinking about how Everett becomes known as the player with the "really excited dad". Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

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rougecreator1 · 23 days

Note

Just a little ask- can we get a Regina George x basically a masc lesbian version of a himbo reader?

I don’t know about you but I have to climb Mount Everest to find any masc reader fics 😭 it’s hard out here!!!

Truth or Dare ||

|| Regina George x masc!fem!reader

|| Warnings: heavily implied smut, house party, underage drinking, Regina being Regina, sex mention, reader being slightly peer pressured in Truth or Dare, swearing, Regina being possessive over reader

|| Summary: Regina gets reader ready for a house party, they get a little distracted by each other. At the house party, reader ends up having more fun than she thought she would.

Requests open!

Started: May 10th

Finished: May 13th

~~~

The only reason you were popular was because Regina George was your girlfriend; if you hadn't been associated with her you would've been a complete outcast. You didn't fall into the femme social norms society had created. You leaned on the more masc side. Backwards hats, baggy pants, oversized shirts and sweaters. How you ended up with Regina you had no idea, but man you loved every minute of it.

You sat with her group during lunch, it was Wednesday so all of you had at least some type of pink on. For you it was your backwards flat cap, coloured a soft pink. Regina had bought it for you since prior to dating her you had absolutely zero pink in your wardrobe. Your clothes were mostly neutral colours, except for the few pride merch pieces you had.

The rest of your outfit was what you would typically wear. It was Fall, so you had a brown oversized hoodie; the sleeves and hood were a soft cream colour. Your pants were a pair of grey-ish green cargos. The way you tended to dress was mostly just grabbing whatever from your closet since you were always rushed in the mornings; sleep was priority. Looking good came after.

Regina hated that you did this. There was definitely a few times where the outfit you ended up showing up with was so mismatched that she would make you go back and change.

"Have you been listening?" Regina looked at you, eyes narrowed. You blinked and stared at her in confusion.

You definitely hadn't been.

"Uhh..."

Regina groans," Pay attention, dumbass. I asked if you had an outfit planned for the party tonight."

You had completely forgotten about the house party Regina was dragging you to, so you didn't have an outfit." I can't just wear this?" You looked down at what you already had on.

Her face scrunched up and she rolled her eyes," Absolutely not. After school you're coming to mine and we're giving you a makeover."

"Great..." You muttered, not really wanting the makeover but you knew Regina wouldn't let you say no.

The rest of the school day went by pretty quickly and at the end of it Regina had driven you to her place to work on your party fit.

As you walked into her room, she grabbed you by your waist and pinned you to the wall. Trailing kisses along your neck which got a soft gasp out of you.

"Regina- I thought-" You were confused why she was she doing this, not that you minded but you thought you were here for a makeover... not make out.

Her hands gripped the bottom of your hoodie and slowly pulled it over your head.

"Well, I have to undress you first. Don't I?" She whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded your head and let her continue with what she was doing.

She smirked as she watched you easily go along with what she was doing. Once your shirt was off, she unclipped your bra and let it fall to the floor as she pushed herself against your body. Her kisses went from your neck to your chest, pulling away from you just moments before she would've reached your breasts.

You made a soft sound when she pulled away, Regina smirked and gripped your hand; leading you to her closet. She loved teasing you like this. Her favourite thing was watching you get worked up, then pulling away from you last minute.

She dug through her clothes, trying to find a nice shirt and pair of pants to go with it. Something that would both match your style and fit what she was going to wear.

When she found the right combination of clothes, she handed them to you and gave you a deep kiss. You melted into it, kissing her back. Her hand rested to the small of your back as she pulled away; eyes slowly trailing your figure.

"Change into that."

You looked down at the clothes she picked out for you, raising an eyebrow as you looked back at Regina again. "Do I have to?"

She narrowed her eyes," Yes." Her hand trailed down further before slapping your ass, making you gasp at the suddenness," Don't argue."

You rolled your eyes but got changed into the fit, Regina's eyes never leaving your body as she stood with her arms crossed.

The outfit she had given you was a little more out of your style than she planned for; she had given you a black lace corset with a fishnet long sleeve that went down to your hands and made fingerless gloves. For the bottoms she'd given you a pair of red jeans and one of her louboutin boots that had just a bit of heel. Okay, it was seriously out of your style. She just wanted to see what you would look like in it and man she wasn't disappointed. When you were dressed, you looked at her then down at the heeled boots.

"I'm so going to fall tonight." You muttered, she laughed at that and a smile tugged the corner of her mouth.

"And if you do, tell me so I can get it on video." Regina winked at you, you huffed.

"Love you, too." You muttered, she ignored your comment and grabbed you by your hand. Pulling you helplessly over to her makeup vanity. Your worst nightmare.

Regina forced you to take a seat before she sat down in your lap, a smirk on her face as she went through her makeup supplies.

"Regina..." You tried to protest, but her hand went to your mouth to stop you.

"Don't start. A little makeup won't hurt you." Regina whispered, grabbing her moisturizer cream and beginning to put some on. You cringed as it touched your face and closed your eyes, reluctantly letting her do what she needed to do.

Nearly twenty long minutes later, Regina was done and satisfied with the look she had created. She grabbed you by your chin and made you look in her mirror as she raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"It's... not my style. But it's fine." You replied, at least being honest with her.

She rolled her eyes and let go of your face," you look better than fine. Now move so I can do my own makeup."

You moved out of her way and headed over to Regina's bed, laying down as you scrolled on your phone and waited for her to be done. Hers took much longer than yours, since she was doing a whole lot more than what she had done for you. You wouldn't even begin to be able to describe what she was doing because you had no clue what half the products even were.

Once Regina was ready, she pulled you from her bed and began walking to her jeep.

"Do we really have to go? I mean, it's a Wednesday night, G. We have school tomorrow." You weren't thrilled about a late night party. Regina's dragged you to multiple parties before, they weren't your scene.

"We're going. We just spent almost two hours getting ready and that time is not going to waste." She looked back at you with narrowed eyes, you sighed deeply but got into her jeep with her and she drove the two of you to go pick up Gretchen & Karen.

When they got in the jeep, you held conversation with them until you finally arrived at the party. You dreaded stepping through those doors but you didn't have much of a choice as Regina dragged you along.

As Regina dragged you along, you did your best to avoid making contact with anyone. One girl nearly threw up on you but Regina pulled you closer to her.

"You're not ruining my clothes tonight." She mutters, hand gripping you tighter as she found her way to the kitchen.

Now in the kitchen, Regina goes through the fridge. Pulling out orange juice, vodka and some ice to make a Screwdriver Cocktail. She pours one for herself than one for you, handing you your drink.

You take it, grateful it wasn't some shit like bud light. You weren't big on beer, you preferred the simply stuff with vodka. Which Regina knew. Sorry bud light fans.

You took a drink as she walked back over to you, hand wrapping around your waist as she trails it along your body. You look at her with a soft smirk, raising an eyebrow as you see the look in her eyes.

"Yes, baby?" You ask in a whisper.

"Shh." She mutters, giving your lips a soft kiss before kissing your neck a few times. Earning some soft sounds from you.

She pulls away and chugs back some of her drink before setting it down on the counter," I'll be right back. Watch my drink."

Regina tells you, you nod and keep your eyes on her as she leaves the kitchen. You then lean yourself against the counter, taking her drink in your hand so you could keep an eye on it like she asked.

You're alone for no longer than a minute when some girl you thought you vaguely recognized came into the kitchen. You weren't sure where you'd seen her, but it was somewhere. Maybe just passing her in the school halls?

She didn't stand out all that much, at least in your opinion. Her eyes locked to yours and she smiled, walking over to you.

"Y/N! Hi!" You weren't surprised she knew your name, many people knew your name when you didn't know theirs. Being Regina George's girlfriend will do that.

"Hi." You reply simply, hoping she would catch on to the fact that you weren't interested in conversation. Not with her, anyway. You took a big sip from your drink, but she pulled it away from your mouth. The suddenness of it nearly making you choke. She grabs both drinks from your hands and sets them behind you, pressing herself against your body.

"Wouldn't you rather... have something else on your lips than a glass?" Her voice was low, she was clearly flirting with you and clearly drunk. You were about to push her off when someone very loudly cleared their throat from behind you. You looked over and saw Regina in the door way, arms folded and glare intense as ever as she stared down the girl. You felt yourself relax. Thank God.

"I'm feeling nice tonight so you have three seconds to back off before I end whatever pathetic social life you have." Regina's voice was scary calm, laced with fake kindness that sent a shiver down your spine and the threat wasn't even directed at you.

The girl flinched when she heard Regina and quickly stepped away from you, though her hand lingered for a moment longer than you would have liked.

"Regina-! We were just-!" Regina cuts her off before she could explain, marching right up to you and positioning herself where the girl had been against you moments before. Her hand grips your chin as she pulls you in for a rough kiss. You made a soft sound, melting into her lips as you easily kissed her back.

When you parted, the girl was no longer in the kitchen. You smirked as you looked at Regina.

"Thank you, baby." You whisper, she narrows her eyes and shushes you with her finger.

"Don't think you're off the hook." Her other hand grips you at your waist, nails digging into your skin. Hard enough to leave a mark on you.

Your eyes closed at the feeling, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you leaned back against the counter.

"Guys! We're starting a game of Truth or Dare!" Gretchen's voice rings out from somewhere in the living room, catching both yours and Regina's attention. Your eyes flutter open, a hint of disappointment in your features at the thought of ending whatever it was that Regina had started.

"We're so playing." Regina tells you, you nod in reluctance and hand Regina her drink from the counter before taking your own and following her into the living room.

You could see your guy's friend group seated on the couches plus some others who had joined. Faces you recognized; Gretchen, Karen, Cady, Aaron, Shane. The rest you didn't exactly know but you had definitely seen them around before. the backup dancers from Stupid with Love.

Regina took a seat in the open arm chair and motioned for you to sit in her lap, you easily followed the silent order. Leaning back against her with a soft, contented sigh.

The game went through a few rounds before it circled over to you, Shane being the one to ask you Truth or Dare. Since it was Shane, you went with the hopefully safer choice of Truth. You knew his Dares could get messy.

Shane smirked," What's your most embarrassing sex story?"

Your face flushed at the question, you should've known Truth would be just as awful." Drink." You stated, opting to skip it by drinking since that was a rule you guys had added. You only get three drink skips.

You felt Regina's hand on your waist, her chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

"No, I wanna hear this. Say it." She has a feeling she knows which one you're avoiding, but she wants confirmation.

You rolled your eyes, looking longingly at your drink in your hand. Knowing Regina wouldn't let you skip this one. You could feel everyone watching you expectantly.

Groaning, your free hand came up to loosely covered your mouth." I once leaned too far back and fell off the bed. Broke my arm."

"Oh my God! That's how you broke your arm?!" Gretchen grinned," You said it was a skate boarding accident!"

"Well I wasn't about to say it was a sex accident." You rolled your eyes again, Regina laughed from behind you and gave your hip a squeeze.

"Watching you scramble to come up with that lie to your parents was so fucking funny." She smirked, you gave her a glare.

The others laughed and you stuck the middle finger at them as you took a drink from your cup anyways.

The rest of the game continued, lots of the classic questions were asked and dares were done. Overall it was pretty fun, this was probably the most fun you've had at a party in a while.

#x reader #fanfic #canon x reader #fem reader #wlw fiction #mean girls x reader #mean girls #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #masc lesbian #masc!fem!reader #masc!reader #regina george x masc reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Winter's King 21

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I am very tired.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As promised, the king acquires you a full outfit to face the cold. A fur trimmed hat to replace your standard linen cap, a pair of lined hide gloves, and thick boots that go to your knees. He has bolstered you to face the elements but you are wholly unprepared to face the corridors as the glances of soldiers and servants meet you with a new glint of judgement.

You wear the king’s cloak as before. You keep your head low under the hood as he walks ahead of you. It is a farce. A poorly acted charade. How naive you’d been for so long not see through it all. You were the perfect fool for an intent audience.

You descend and come out to the west of the castle, through a door beneath a sharply peaked arch. The snow continues to heap over the land though the winds have relented. The king pauses as you emerge and reaches to take you by the wrist, as if he fears you might be lost in the powder.

He walks you across the yard towards the stables built across a flat of land nestled along a curved rock wall. The doors creaks as he pushes through and the heat of braziers and horses’ bodies greets you within. Sniffs, snorts, and knickers rise in the air as you walk between the stalls. There is one in which a single horse resides, the rest crowded in pairs and trios.

You look up at the steed’s dark snout, it’s eyes even bleaker as it snuffs out harshly. It’s nostrils flair at your approach and the king clicks his tongue at the beast. It raises its nose then shakes its head. It’s ebony iris fixates on you as its master touches its braided mane.

“Roach,” you murmur into the dry air.

“You remember,” he comments gently.

“Yes,” you watch the horse as it watches you. It bows its head, nose coming close to yours, fuming hot breath around you. It sniffs the trim of your hood.

“Let the animal see you,” the king advises.

You bring your hands up and push back the hood, letting it hang over your shoulders. You stare at the dark eyes. Roach continues to twitch his nose in your direction then further dips his head, pressing against your chest. Uncertain, you bring your hands to touch his soft ears.

“Ah,” the king sighs, “Roach is rarely partial to any but me. Even I receive a nip or too from the curmudgeon.” He chuckles and touches the horse’s thick neck. “others have nearly lost a finger and even sacrificed garment or two.”

“A creature so volatile, he makes a good war horse?”

“She,” he corrects you.

“Oh, apologies.”

“I doubt she minds,” he muses and pets her long nose as she raises her head. “She is restless. She would do good for the exercise.”

He lowers his hand and unclasps the stall door. He pulls it out as you step out of the way. The horse clomps through, kicking impatiently as it blows through its lips. The king moves parallel to you and draws you before him. Before you or Roach can react, he has you aloft, urging you onto the horse’s unsaddled back.

“Hold tight,” he girds and puts his hands to the horse’s shoulder, “come, Roach.”

The horse starts and you press your hands to her back, clamping on with your thighs. You rock with her motion to keep from slipping. You duck with the mount as she bends through the door the king holds open. The winter snows dusts down on you as you emerge.

The king drags his palm along the horse’s side and swings himself up with little effort. He sit behind you, Roach not missing a step or buckling at his ascent. He pulls you snug to him, tugging up your hood as the chill nips at your cheeks. He wraps his arms around you and clutches a swathe of the horse’s braids. He whistles and leans, guiding the horse away from the castle.

“She is obedient,” you remark at her agile response.

“I prefer mares for that reason,” he returns. You wonder if it is a quip meant for the queen or yourself. Perhaps both. “It isn’t very far, though the path is steep.”

You nod and stare at the white expanse, a few jutting rocks pocking out above the carpet of snow, leafless branches reaching out here and there. The horse carries you to a ledge, narrow and treacherous, and you lean back into the King Geralt as the edge has you dizzy. He slips his hand beneath your cloak to squeeze your hip.

“I have you, treasure, you needn’t fear,” he assures.”

“Yes, your highness, thank you,” you touch his knuckles and shiver.

“Sweet summer maid,” he purrs as he draws you snugger. “This winter is harsh but I will keep you warm.”

You shudder and hang your head. For so much comfort as he offers, you find little. It isn’t only the snow which chills you.

You ride on, the impact of hooves softened by the layers below, the air hollow and biting as it seeps beneath your hood. The sky ripples grey and seems to darken as you descend the curling path along the cliff’s edge. At once, you are plunged into thick blackness.

The world levels out and the king shifts, sliding off the mount to land on his feet. You peek over your shoulder and see the grim light through the mouth of the cave. The king touches your leg and you turn, letting him help you from the height. Roach kicks and spits.

The king frames your waist before he releases you. You listen to his steps as he moves through the dim. There’s is a scratch as he strikes flint and flame illuminates his shadow. He bends and takes something from the ground. He pauses and works with one hand, wrapping something around the thick stick. He lights the length of linen around the wood’s tip, a torch to see you along.

“She will stay, she is not keen on confinement, especially underground,” he girds and removes his own cloak, draping it over the horses back, “the air enlivens me, I shouldn’t need that much.”

He wears a leather coat, sewn of thick strips of black and studded with silver. He approaches you and bends his arm, offering it gallantly as a gentleman might with a lady. You hesitate and hook your arm through it, hugging his elbow as he leads you deeper, the torch flickering with each step.

You enter a tunnel with rocky tendrils stretching from top to bottom, encased in layers of ice and frost. The flame illuminates the frozen layers. Deeper and deeper you go, quiet as your curiosity mingles with concern. Where are you going?

Your boot slips on a slippery patch but the king keeps you upright. You thank him and bring your other arm across to steady yourself on his bicep. You feel his muscle bulging beneath. You do not doubt his promises. He will keep you safe. Down here, but you doubt what he might do without.

He raises the torch as the air thins and you the cave opens up. You look around as the walls lay beyond the breadth of the torches glow. Your eyes are drawn by the icy fingers hanging from the ceiling. There is one close to you. You reach to touch its pointed tip.

“Icicles,” the king says, “be careful of the thin ones, they might fall.”

He moves the torch to show more, all around you, light fangs the line the cave, lining the edges. The flame sparkles on their eerie translucence. Then the king lowers the light and you look down beneath your feet. You’re stand on ice!

“Your highness,” you instinctively pull yourself closer to him, your soles sliding as you try to walk further.

“It will not break,” he assures you as he urges you on, “this cave never thaws, even in the warmer months. They call it the Moth’s Den.” He leads you across the ice and your eyes catch on the icicles, thick and thin, some pointed, some reach to touch the floor. You hear an odd hum, almost a buzz, and he sweeps the torch before you.

You stop to gape at the wall before you. It looks soft and fluffy, almost like fur. Then you lean closer and see the wings. Pale silver moths, fluttering in place, clinging to the wall. Their fuzzy bodies line every morsel of the space.

“Snow moths. Harmless creatures. Unlike their summer counterparts, the detest the light,” he extends his arm and a circle along the icy wall is sudden bare as the moths move to avoid the glare. “When I was a boy, I always wanted to have one as a pet. I could never get one past the entrance before it escaped and flew back to the depths.”

You blink and lower your hand from his arm, though you stay hooked onto him, “I didn’t think this was your home.”

“As a boy it was. At least, that’s how I saw it. My father, king of the day, sent me here to train with Lord Vesemir. As much to keep me out of trouble. I am not unaware of myself. I was not the best behaved. Vesemir took me in and he bides no mischief,” King Geralt explains, “though he does not rule without compassion. He taught me many things more than discipline. He taught me,” the king peers over at you, “that my heart should be heard just as plainly as my mind. If you do not balance them, then it will all topple.”

You look back at him. Your chest aches deeply. Doesn’t he know you don’t have that privilege? Can he not see that you do not get that choice? Even for a king.

You might never had cared for Lady Rezlyn and her gossip. You think it cruel and unkind. Often you wonder if she spoke less of others, if she might gain more friends. You never engaged much in Merinda’s whispers either. But you heard them and you know what becomes of mistresses.

The other woman. That’s what you’ll become. A whore. A name to be spat. A figure to be avoided. A maid might be ignored but she neither favoured or despised. She just is. She has her purpose. A mistress only has the stain put upon her. The one who taints who my walk away, but she never will.

“The ice becomes you, treasure. The cold it... pales to your beauty,” he smiles down at you. His gold eyes are vibrant and his fine features are even more admirable in the limn of the flame.

He lifts his chin and takes steady steps away from the wall and leads you towards a jutting stone at the other end of the cavern. He bends to plant the torches base in the crevice at its foot. The torch leans but stands on its own.

He faces you, untangling from your arm, and puts his hands on your shoulders, “I want to know what you think. Tell me. Do you like my homeland? Do you like the winter?”

Your lips part and you glance up. Your eyes wander around the space and you turn your head. You raise your hands to touch the king’s leather gloves.

“I think I do,” you answer. You can’t deny the beauty even if it is deadly. “I might think differently should I meet a bear or a wolf.”

“It is why you must stay close, treasure, I would never let a beast get anywhere near,” he avows, “I refer to all beasts. Be it man or animal. You will always have me. You needn’t be afraid.”

You lower your eyes. You can’t say the truth. He knows it but he refuses it. His is a king, he might bend even the world to his whim. You let your hands trails down his forearms. He drops his hands and takes yours.

“Will you tell me more? About when you were a boy?” You ask, hoping to forget the present a little longer. You are intrigued to think of this man as just a child. It is a rather impossible concept.

“Hm, well,” he lets go of you and moves around you. He comes behind you and presses himself to your back. He rocks you as he turns you to admire the cave, “I would come to these caves and talk to myself...” he laughs rockily, “you see, if you holler loud enough, your voice bounces back at you. Lord Vesemir, he is not always in the mind for conversation and horses can be just as finicky.”

He continues to turn you with him. Even without his cloak, his warmth seeps into you.

“And I would gather bouquets of frostwart and white willowrods for they are the closest to flowers that grow here. I would put the bunches all around, as if I was too be coronated. I was told every day I would be king and I wanted to be ready, but mostly, I’d pretend I was at tourney. I would have my practice sword and I would parry with the air. The air was not so mean as Vesemir with his jabs.”

You listen, closing your eyes, trying to see it in your head. A white-haired boy with his golden eyes and flowers and swords. Now a man who’s marched through blood and dirt. How time changes more than the seasons, it transforms all.

“What of you, maid? I want to know of you. When you were a child, did you frolic with the rabbits and the squirrels?”

You go rigid. You try to pull away but he has you caught. You lean back and exhale heavily.

“The life of a maid isn’t very interesting,” your murmur.

“You were always a maid? Even when you were young?”

“Always,” you affirm. “I emptied pots, brought Lord Dustan his boots, though at times, Lady Jazlene required a playmate...”

He’s quiet at the mention of his wife. You feel the crack in your heart. Your nose is numb and tingling.

“Yet, how did you become a maid? Before that, was there nothing?” He asks.

“Please, your highness--”

“I bid you call me by my name.”

“Geralt,” you utter, “please, I beg you, I wouldn’t speak of before.”

“Did you have parents? Siblings--”

“None of it,” you hiss and elbow away from him, throwing your arms out to keep balance. You spin and shake your head, “please. My parents are dead. Long gone. And the memories I have of them are nothing more than that. They’ve only ever been dead to me.”

He is taken aback, his face pale and cheeks tight, “treasure, forgive me, I only... I want to know everything of you--”

“You know what I am. I am a maid. That is it. That is all I can ever be. I am not a lady, not a wife, not a queen,” you clap your hands together, the impact softened by your mittens, “you cannot make me anything different, king as you may be. I will only ever serve, and you will only ever command.”

His lips part and he steps towards you, “that isn’t true.”

“It’s what must be true,” you look to your feet, “might I make a request?”

“Anything,” he says.

“Take me back to the castle,” you raise your eyes.

He nods solemnly and reaches for you, “as you wish.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king

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pitchsidestories · 3 months

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The Beautiful Game II Lia Wälti x Reader

masterlist I word count: 3754

a/n: based off this request here. We hope you enjoy this one, we definetly did while writing it ! ❤️

“How many times do we have to tell you Lee that this cap is not working as undercover outfit?”, Lia Wälti clicked her tongue. She and a few of her Arsenal teammates were on their way to meet the girls school football team, you and your best friend Jenna coached together.

Pouting Leah Williamson folded the arms across her chest:” Leave me alone. I love my flat cap.” “Aswell as your grandpa shoes.”, Laura Wienroither kept teasing. Grinning the English defender elbowed her playfully: “You’re just jealous.” “Yes, we just know what’s cozy.”, Kim Little tuned in as she loved them as much as the younger player did.

Cheekily Leah turned to face her friend:” Don’t you have some leaves to rake up anyway, Wally?” “First, I promised to say hi to my girlfriends’ team.”, the Swiss midfielder reminded them why they came to visit in the first place.

As if Kim was reading her thoughts she said to the blonde defender: “That’s why we’re here, Leah.” “I know, Kimmy.”, Leah rolled her eyes at her. Clearing her throat the Arsenal Captain replied:” Just saying. Lia, you go first, it’s your girlfriend.”

Warmly Jenna greeted the brunette:” Lia, hi.” “Hi.”, Lia beamed at her and you. Delighted you told her: “The girls are so excited to meet you, love.” “I hope you didn’t make too big of a deal out of it.”, she laughed. Innocently your best friend shook her head:” No.”

“Great undercover look, Lee.”, you winked at the blonde who was one of the closest friends of your girlfriend. Relieved about your words, she answered: “Thanks. The others gave me shit for it.”

One of your girls, Hazel who was wearing a white bow in her brown hair exclaimed cheerfully:” Girls, this is Leah Williamson!” “Oh, here we go.”, Kim groaned in frustration while the little footballers quickly surrounded England’s captain. Excited Leah waved at all of them:” Hi girls.”

“Do you want to show them what we practiced?”, you asked your players. Curious Lia glanced at you:” You practised something?” You nodded with a deep smile on your face: “Yes. Hazel, Daisy, do you want to go first?” “Yes!”, Daisy shouted back motivated by the presence of the Arsenal players.

As they were showing their football skills in front of the women who played professionally, Leah looked at them in admiration: ”Oh my god, that’s so cool.” “Impressive.”, Leah commented equally fascinated.

With a shy smile Hazel went to the grown-up teammates:” Can we play with you.” “Sure. Let’s go.”, Leah clapped into her hands before pulling out her football boots ready to join the little girls in their play.

You watched from the sidelines as the girls ran around the field with the injured Laura cheering from the side. Lia snuck up next to you, putting her hand around your waist; “You and Jenna are doing a great job here, love.“

“Thanks, Lia.“ You turned your head towards your girlfriends for a quick kiss. Amy, one of the youngest in the team, pointed at the two of you; “Ewww, Wally kissed Coach!“

“Girls can kiss girls too, idiot!“, Daisy yelled back at her, her dark ponytail swinging angrily from side to side. “Yes, don’t be weird about it. Love is love!“, Hazel agreed.

Amy rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way; “Ugh, I know that. But kissing is ew.“ You stifled a laugh, not sure if you should scold or be proud of your young players.

Kim ruffled Amys messy blonde hair; “I found that ew at your age too.“ “You did?“, Amy asked with big eyes. The Arsenal captain nodded gently; “Yes, you’re still young. That’s okay.“ “You should come play with us.“, the little girl suggested, tugging on Kims sleeve and pulling her with her back to the others.

Lia grinned at you; “I think they like the girls.“ “And the girls like them.“, you added, your eyes on the scene in front of you. “It’s cute.“ Jenna interrupted you, bumping you with her elbow; “Stop looking at them like that.“

“Like that?“, you repeated, hoping that your assistant coach would elaborate. Instead, she shook her head; “You know.“ “Jen!“, you exclaimed. “What?“ “Girls? I invited your team to our next game.“, Leah yelled over from the other side of the pitch.

Daisy cheered in excitement; “It’s going to be amazing!“ You watched Jennas face drop; “Wait, what?“ “You did?“, you also asked, caught somewhere between surprise and confusion. The defender beamed; “Yes, they are so excited.“

Jenna gave Leah a murderous glare before turning towards you in exasperation; “Oh, we’re f-… How do we explain that to their parents?“ Hopeful that this situation can be solved, you shrugged; “We’ll find a solution.“

“Please, we want to go!“, Hazel begged, trying her best attempt at puppy eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it happen. I promise, Hazel.“, you assured the young girl somewhat confident.

She nodded and proposed; “We can talk to our parents too.“ Laura smiled at the group of girls; “We’d love to see you there.“ “We’ll be there. Somehow.“, Jenna sighed in defeat. Lia pressed another quick kiss on your temple; “Can’t wait.“ “Promise.“, you winked at her.

Weeks later, you and Jenna were headed to the Emirates Stadium, followed by your group of young footballers. Impatiently, Amy jumped up and down; “We need to hurry up or we’ll be late!“ “Amy, it’s fine. We won’t be late!“, Jenna reminded for the third time and heaved an annoyed sigh.

“We’re right on time.“, you explained as you entered the stadium. Even Daisy began to get nervous; “Are you sure?“ You nodded as you lead them to their seats; “Yes.“ The girls went suspiciously quiet, only letting out a few gasps at the sight of the pitch. Hazels eyes lit up in awe; “Wow, that’s huge!“

Baffled Daisy turned her head to face your girlfriend:” And you really play here?” “We do.”, Lia nodded. Excited Amy cheered:” That is so cool!” “It’s, right?”, Leah beamed at the sight of the overjoyed girls. Big eyed Daisy agreed: “It is! It’s so big.”

“I didn’t know girls could play in such big stadium.. I mean the lionesses yes but another girls team.”, Amy mumbled deeply impressed by the size of her surroundings. Next to her Hazel dreamed out loud:” Maybe we can be here too one day!” “That would be awesome.”, her friends admitted.

A big smile was on your lips while you told them:” Everything is possible.” “Feel at home girls. We got to go warm up.”, your girlfriend said softly. Grinning Amy wished her good luck. “Thank you.”, Lia replied, waving at them before joining her teammates for the warmup session.

Delighted, you shouted after her: “See you later.” The way the Swiss woman interacted with the children you were coaching warmed your heart which didn’t got unnoticed by your best friend who pointed that out:” I saw that.”

“What?”, you asked blushing even though you knew exactly to what she was referring to. Amused she threw her eyebrows up: “That look.” “She’s my girlfriend how am I supposed to look at her?”, you wanted to know playing innocently with your hair. With a dirty grin Jenna answered:” Not like that.” “Oh, please.”, you laughed.

You let out a relieved sigh when Hazel announced:” The game start!” Drawing back the attention on them made you get away from the teasing of your friend. Clearing your throat, you changed the topic to a lighter theme:” Right, do you have a favourite player, girls?”

“Kim Little!”, Amy was the first to answer, remembering her lovely meet up with the Arsenal captain. You gave her a knowing look:” She made quite an impression on you during our training, right, Amy?” “Yes. She’s so nice.”, the blonde girl declared. Humming Daisy continued:” I like Leah the most.”

“That’s a great choice too who do you like Hazel?”, you curiously glanced at the girl who wore a red bow for the game today. With a tone of deep admiration, she confessed:” I like all of them.” “Yes, they are a great team like you girls.”, you winked at them.

That was the moment Jenna decided to tease you again:” Now ask your coach who her favourite player is.” “Oh, that’s easy.”, Amy rolled her eyes at that question, the answer seeming too obvious for her to say out loud.

Much more motivated Hazel chirmed:” It’s Wally!” “Yes, they are so cute!”, Daisy added giggling. In disgust, Amy wrinkled her nose: “No, they’re ew.” “Amy stop being such a hater.”, Hazel elbowed the younger one playfully.

The cheeks of Amy turned hot red:” I’m not. Only when they kiss.” “Same.”, Jenna agreed with her. Laughing you told them:” You two made that very clear.” “Good.”, the young girl seemed satisfied with your reaction. “Rude.”, you replied but you couldn’t really be mad at her.

Hazel interrupted your discussion, bouncing up and down while she pointed towards the pitch; “They scored! You missed the goal!“ “No, we didn’t!“, Amy protested loudly. “Yes, you did!“

While Hazel was still trying to prove her point, the stadium erupted in cheers again. “They scored another one!“, Daisy commented, her eyes big with excitement. Hazel stood up on her seat to get a better view of Alessia Russo; “That was so cool!“ “A pretty goal, right?“, Jenna agreed while pulling the girl back onto her seat. Hazel nodded; “I want to try that in training.“ “We can do that.“, you promised. “Good.“

With a shrug, you suggested; “Maybe Lessie can show you girls at some point.“ “Can she come visit us too?“, the girls asked impatiently. You tilted your head with a wink; “I’ll ask her, okay?“ “Okay.“ “I’m sure she’ll come.“, Jenna said, smirking at you.

You were grateful that the girls’ attention was mostly on the football game. “Another goal!“, Amy announced happily. Daisy raised her arms in the air, almost hitting Hazel in the process; “Yeay!“ Jenna leaned over towards you; “At least your girls team is winning. Imagine if we came here with the girls and Arsenal lost. I wouldn’t want to dry all those tears.“

Her eyes widened like she was horrified by the thought alone. You glanced at your players; “Yes, you’re right about that. But their eyes are sparkling right now.“ “I’m just surprised that they can sit still for that long.“, Jenna remarked, watching the young girls with a wrinkled nose. “They never do during training when you try to teach them tactics.“, you grinned back at her.

Jenna sighed in annoyance; “One day I’ll get them to understand what I want from them.“ “I’m sure you’ll.“, you nodded politely but failed to suppress a smile. “I’ll take the girls home after the game. You can go with your girlfriend.“, your assistant coach smoothly changed the topic. You looked at her in surprise; “Are you sure?“ “Sure.“

“Thank you, Jenna.“, you thanked her which she only acknowledged with a raised eyebrow; “You owe me.“ “What do you want?“, you laughed. With a shrug, Jenna replied; “I’ll tell you when I need something.“ “Okay.“ Her eyes were trained back on the football pitch when she casually mentioned; “Maybe I’ll ask you to set me up with one of the players.“

Your jaw dropped and you turned towards her, your face caught in a state between shock and laughter; “With who?“ “I don’t know. I was just joking.“, Jenna grimaced, obviously weirded out by your excitement. You slapped her on her upper arm; “Man, I thought you were serious!“

Your friend shook her head at you; “You would have wanted to set me up? Our little girls wouldn’t allow that.“ “Only Amy wouldn’t allow it.“, you rolled your eyes with a smile. “Yeah, probably.“, she had to agree. “See?“ Jenna gave you one more disapproving look; “Oh stop it. I’m not going out with one of the Arsenal players. That’s ridiculous.“

“Why not?”, you kept asking innocently. Jenna tried to shrug it off:” I’m not dating a football player.” “That’s what I said too and when Lia stepped into my life.”, you thought out loud with a nostalgic tone. A small smile crept onto the other woman’s lips:” That’s something different.” “Is it?”, you raised an eyebrow.

Amused she shook her head:” Focus on the game, girl.” “Lia scored!”, you interrupted her blushing. Dreamily Daisy sighed: “Only for you. That’s so romantic.” “Ew, disgusting.”, Amy wrinkled her little nose. Enthusiastically Hazel disagreed:” No, she threw a heart at her direction.”

And indeed, Lia did that little gesture which melted your heart. Meanwhile Amy repeated herself:” Yes, disgusting.” “Some things will never change, right Amy?”, you laughed. Now giggling too, the small girl nodded in agreement:” Never.”

After the match ended Jenna was looking at your girls:” Come on girls time to go home.” “Already?”, Hazel pouted, she didn’t want this fantastic day of football to end anytime soon, the air still tasted sweet from Arsenal’s win.

Concentrated your friend was careful to lead them to the exit of the stadium: “Yes, let’s go.” “See you, tomorrow!”, you said your goodbye to them. Smiling Jenna turned around:“See you.” “Tell the Arsenal girls they played great!”, Daisy shouted grinning. You replied quickly:“I’ll, promise.” “Now move, girls.”, your friend said to them.

Swooning Hazel answered:” I’d love to be her.” “No, you don’t. Let’s go.”, Jenna pleaded. Disgusted Amy reminded her: “Honestly they must smell bad right now.” “You smell bad.”, Hazel rolled her eyes. “Jenna, she said I smell bad!” “No one smells bad and if anyone says that again, I’ll make sure you smell bad for weeks.”, their coach groaned.

Still beaming from the win Lia greeted you: “Hi, where are your girls?” “Jenna offered to take them home alone.”, you explained to your girlfriend. The brunette seemed happy about those news:“That’s nice of her.” “She asked me to do her a favour in the future.., so is someone single in your team?”, you wanted to know from her. A crooked smile lit up her face:” You want to set her up.” “Maybe.”, you played with a string of your hair which escaped your neat ponytail.

Lia who loved to play matchmaker answered: “I’ll ask around.” “Thank you.” “Did you enjoy the game?”, the brunette changed the topic swiftly. “I did. The girls loved watching the game too.”, you reassured her.

As you mentioned them the eyes of your girlfriend sparkled:” That’s great. I’m happy they liked it here.” “Your goal and celebration for it was amazing.”, you winked at her. Delighted she confirmed:” I don’t usually score goals so that was a great coincidence that I did today.”

“It was really sweet.”, Laura Wienroither interrupted your conversation smiling. The Swiss glanced at her:“Thanks, Laura.” “You’re welcome.”, the younger player responded. Hopeful Lia turned back to face you: Can you wait? I’m just taking a shower quickly and then we can go?” “Sure.”, you agreed.

“I’ll hurry up.“, Lia promised, turning around to disappear into the dressing rooms. “Please!“, you called after her.

Your waiting was significantly shortened by Leah walking towards you; ”Hey!“ “Lee, hi.“, you pulled her into a quick hug. “Did you like it?“, the defender asked. “Yes, why?“ “Just asking.“ You shook her head, knowing that the football player had some kind of ulterior motive for her questions; “Leah, tell me.“ “I was genuinely curious if you and your team liked the game.“, she shrugged in response.

Moved by the thought of how happy your players were to see their idols filling out a stadium, you smiled; ”They did, it was so cute.“ “We have something for the girls.“, Leah finally admitted. “You do?“, you asked softly.

The defender pulled a red Arsenal jersey out of her sports bag and held it up for you. The back was covered in signatures. “We all signed this. You can hang it up in your dressing room or something.“, she explained.

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from getting too emotional about this thoughtful gesture. Gratefully, you took the jersey from her; “Thank you, Lee. The girls will love it.“ Leahs face was lit up by a smile; “You’re welcome.“ “Appreciate it.“ “Lia is done.“, Leah remarked as her team mate appeared next to her, freshly showered and her hair still damp. You waved at the remaining players; “Perfect. See you, girls.“ “Let’s go home.“, Lia suggested with a yawn.

As soon as you arrived, you carefully took the jersey out and placed it on your desk; “I can’t wait for the girls to see the jersey you all signed.“ Lia dropped her bag and appeared right behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist; “It was a cute idea, right?“ “Definitely.“, you agreed, turning towards your girlfriend so you could kiss her cheek. “Leah came up with it.“

“I already thanked her.“ Lias eyes searched for yours; “If your team needs anything, we could help out.“ With a sigh, you removed yourself from her embrace; “I know. There’s still so much to do until the girls get equal opportunities to play that game..“ “But they have better chances than we did. That makes me incredibly happy.“, Lia responded truthfully. You nodded; “Me too. Also I love working with Jen.“

A smile tugged on Lias lips; “I can tell.“ “Also who knows, maybe one of them will become a future lioness.“, you continued enthusiastically. “That would be great.“, your girlfriend agreed. “Jenna would never stop bragging about it.“ Lia sceptically raised an eyebrow; “You wouldn’t either!“

“Yes, true.“, you smiled but a thought rushed trough your brain, making the smile fade far too quickly. “I saw how you looked at the girls…“, you started. The midfielder didn’t seem to follow you. She frowned; “How did I look at them?“ “Like you wished one of them was yours.“ There was silence between the two of you. Lia blinked a few times; “What? No…“ “No?“, you echoed. “I don’t know.“ Taken aback, you apologized; “Sorry… maybe I completely misread it.“

“No. I wasn’t aware that I was doing that.”, the brunette mumbled stunned. Confused you replied: ”You weren’t?” “No.”, she emphasized her answer. You couldn’t think about anything adequate to say so your lips only formed an ,oh’.

Quickly Lia added: “I’m sorry.” “No, I’m just disappointed you didn’t say anything about wanting children.”, you said to her. Thrown off by your sentence the midfielder asked:” Who says I want children?” “Your eyes.”, you pointed out. The Swiss whispered:” That doesn’t make any sense. It’s stupid to even think about it.” “It’s not.”, you countered seriously.

Nervously Lia went through her hair with one hand:” I’m still playing, and you have your team.” “I’m sure we could make it work if that’s what you wanted.”, you reassured her. Helplessly the brunette bit her lip:” I don’t know. Would you want that?” “I do.”, you announced, your heart beating fast as you told her the truth.

Slowly your girlfriend realized what you were trying to express all along:” That’s why you asked. You want children.” “Yes, and what do you want, Lia?”, you asked her in return. Her tone changed into something more hopeful:” I do want children. I just didn’t seem feasible.” “Maybe it’s now.” The kiss you exchanged was like a promise to something you both had the desire for but were too afraid to speak out until now.

A bit over a year later you and Lia were mums to a little girl. You even took her to the training of your girls’ team. Annoyed Amy threw her hands up in the air:” She can’t play yet, Jenna.” “Stop it, Ames. Of course she can.”, Jenna told her off.

The little girl wasn’t impressed by her answer: “She’s a baby.” “And? You can’t start early enough.”, her coach shrugged her shoulders. Grinning Daisy continued:” Plus she’s Wallys kid so it’s in her DNA.” “You don’t even know what DNA is.”, Hazel teased her. “Of course I do!”, she protested.

Softly you interrupted them before this could escalate into a proper fight:” Girls, focus on the game.” It seems like your toddler heard it because she kicked the ball into the goal. Baffled Amy was the first to speak:“That was pure luck.” “It’s talent.” Jenna whistled.

Proudly Lia told the blonde defender after her training:” Lee, our little girl scored today.” “Your girl can’t walk yet.”, Leah replied amused. Delighted Steph declared:” She can play football before she can walk.” “She’s Wally’s daughter. She can do everything.”, Laura added. Smiling Alessia nodded:” Yes, she’s a smart cookie.”

“I want to see that before we get too excited.”, Leah tried to calm down her teammates. Beaming Lia played the video in front of her friends:” Here Jenna filmed the big moment.” “Not bad. That’s going to be a good football player.”, the England captain admitted. “Right?” “Of course.”, Laura chirmed.

“Alright, girls. I got to go and pick them up.”, Lia announced, pocketing her phone. Before she left, Leah called after her; “Okay, bring them to our next training.”

As Lia arrived at your football pitch, Daisys voice echoed across the grounds; “Wally!” “Hi, girls.”, she smiled and let your players embrace her in a group hug. “Hello.”, Hazel mumbled into the midfielders side. Your girlfriend looked up and met your gaze from the other side of the pitch.

You both smiled at each other. “How was training?”, Lia asked. “Someone was trying hard to impress.”, Amy rolled her eyes. Jenna raised an eyebrow at the blonde girl and explained; “She means your daughter. She was not happy with the performance.” “Oh, really?”, Lia laughed.

Nodding, Jenna confirmed; “Really.” The girls were slowly letting go of Lia when you walked over at them, carrying your daughter. “Hi, Lia.”, you greeted her. She leaned over to first kiss you on the cheek before she carefully pressed her lips to her daughters head; “Hi, love.” “We‘re ready.”, you smiled. Taking the toddler from you, Lia suggested; “Let‘s go home.”

Your football team watched as the three of you left the football pitch together. “Goodbye, you three!”, Jenna called after you. You waved at her one last time. Simultaneously, Amy tugged on her coaches shirt; “Jen?” “Yes?”

“Maybe it‘s not that disgusting.“, the girl concluded, tilting her head pensively while she watched on as Lia wrapped her arm around your waist and gently brushed her lips against yours. Jenna remained silent and smiled softly.

#lia walti #lia walti x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #woso #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #leah williamson #lia walti imagine

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beansprean · 8 months

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MORE ATLANTIS AU...

ty to @gerandor for the persian translations <3

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of Guillermo, dressed like Milo Thatch from Atlantis in jodhpurs and a tank top, sitting up against a mossy rock. The crucifix around his neck is tucked to one side under his shirt, and the strap on the opposite side is shrugged off his shoulder to reveal a small cut under his collarbone. Nandor, dressed in an Atlantic version of his usual outfit in purples and blues, leans in over him, one hand braced on Guillermo's knee, to lick the wound. Guillermo is startled at this, turning bright red.

2a. Full body of human Nadja dressed like Audrey in overalls, boots, and a flat cap. She is lounging on the ground, one elbow braced on her knee to lean her knuckles on her cheek. A voice offscreen asks, "What happened to your sister?" Nadja replies casually, "She's 24 and 0 with a shot at the title next month. In a separate bubble is a smal drawing of Dolly with her hair in twin buns, wearing a sports bra and boxing gloves. 2b. Waist up of human Laszlo dressed as Sweet, in a white coat with a stethoscope around his neck. Guillermo, the side of his face visible in the foreground, nervously asks, "...Where did you get your medical license again?" Laszlo looks at him with a confused grin, holding up a shiny metal saw in his hand, and responds, "My what?" 2c. Bust of Colin Robinson, dressed as a mixture of Mole and Vinny in a gray turtleneck, brown fingerless gloves, and leather bomber hat with goggles and a lit flex light, on a striated brown background. He is holding up one finger and explaining, "It's arkose! Appears to be made from mainly quartz and feldspar, so one can presume there was volcanic activity nearby in the last few thousand years that formed it. If the caldera is still present, it's almost certainly dormant based on the strata patterns. In looking at the thickness and statistically likely set of materials we can't currently see, this gorgeous wall of rock has to be at least a 7 on the Mohs hardness scale. Which was introduced in 1812 and is therefore consistent with our 1914 setting." 2d. Repeat. Colin grins, eyes going large and excited as he holds up a lit stick of dynamite and declares, "All this to say, we could dig it, and I would love how time-consuming and tedious it would be, but we're probably better off blowing it up."

3a. Waist up of Guillermo on a foresty background of hanging lichen and persian silk, a satchel slung across his shoulders and an old book titled 'vampyr' clutched to his chest. He has one finger held up in his free hand, looking upwards in concentration as he attempts to speak in persian. He says ما قصد جنگ نداریم, meaning "we don't intend to fight," but mispronounces قصد (ghasd) as کصد (kasd). Nandor, standing in front of him and fiddling his fingers together, grimaces at this and says "Ehhhmm... Perhaps you can just speak in English?" 3b. Full body from behind as they walk away together, Nandor with his hands held loosely behind his back and Guillermo stuffing his book back into his bag. He asks, "Was it that bad?" Nandor replies, "Eeh, I have heard worse. But you speak it through your nose." He then repeats (ghasd) with proper pronunciation, which Guillermo attempts to emulate but pronounces even more incorrectly as گصد (gas).

4a. Waist up of Guillermo on a misty background, soaking wet with his tank top clinging to him and his crucifix shining around his neck. Two shadowy figures at each shoulder are holding his arms behind his back. Guillermo struggles against them and shouts angrily, "This was all for a stupid hat??" 4b. Knees up of human Simon the Devious as Commander Rourke, dressed in a green tank top tucked into khakis. He is holding up the witch's skin hat reverently in both hands and turns his face toward Guillermo with an unhinged grin, eyes wide and fully out of touch with reality. He replies, "Did I plan, fund, and retain international clearance for a long term undersea expedition to lands unknown for the sole purpose of regaining access to Laszlo's personal effects that I might take back what is rightfully mine - this witch's clit of a hat? Yes. Yes, I did." Behind him, Laszlo and Nadja stand in shocked anger and resigned irritation, respectively. /end ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #atlantis au #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #nadja of antipaxos #laszlo cravensworth #colin robinson #simon the devious #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

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moonlitdesertdreams · 17 days

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Follow Me

Request: Can you do something like Vault 4 in the show but with Coop and the reader and how they'd react to friendly faces (or what seem like friendly faces?) A/N: This prompt GOT ME GOOD. I started out with Vault 4, scrapped that, and somehow ended with hippie Ghouls singing Uncle Kracker songs that we're pretending are original because they definitely didn't exist in the pre-war Fallout universe a totally realistic Fallout story that involves hippies and the ocean Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language Summary: You can't help but be suspicious of everyone you meet in the Wasteland, but a group of friendly, musically-inclined Ghouls just might be the exception.

Word Count: 1.9k+

(Gif Credit to @オレは強い)

“You get the caps?”

Cooper tosses a bag tied with twine your way in response. It’s heavy, the sound of bottle caps clinking in a soft reassurance that you can afford to rest your aching body for more than just a couple nights.

“There isn’t anything in these damn dunes but sand and rocks.” You kick at the ground, “Might as well start pedaling back east.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before Cooper answers.

“Not this late. We’ll go west. Follow the coastline.”

You sigh in defeat, resigning yourself to the fate of slogging through thousands of tons of sand.

“Problem, sweetcheeks?”

A scowl curls your lip at Cooper’s sarcastic jab. He’s already walking west into the orange halo of a setting sun.

“Just don’t want to hike back through more miles of dunes if we don’t have to.” You mutter and follow behind him.

If he was going to be a prick, you were at least going to use his already-irradiated body as a sun shield.

After a substantial payout on your most recent bounty, Cooper and yourself were both ready for a break. It had been a long few months of job after job and patience was wearing thin. You’re both getting more snappy with each other as the days slip by; Cooper is more dependent on his Vials after exerting himself, and you’re plain exhausted. Sunburned, sweaty and dry all the same. It is a volatile mix of attitude and flaring tempers, both of which you and Cooper possess a staggering amount of.

The drop location for the bounty had been far west in the sand dunes, nearing the coastline. Cooper had made the drop while you sought out shelter for the night. Sought being the key word, as you’ve been hiking through sand for hours with nothing to show for it. You met back up with Cooper at the crest of a dune, where he’s huffing down a Vial and pacing like a caged animal.

And now, you’re back on the move.

You trail in his shadow even when the sun sinks below the sand and a full moon rises. You’re comforted by the absence of heat and creeping relief of dusk as it soothes away the day’s burns, but desperate for a reprieve from the elements. It takes you a few moments shuffling through your pack while walking to find the salve you’d mixed up months ago and slather what remains of it on your roasted cheeks. Trying to put the lid back on and not fall flat on your face is a chore, made more difficult by Cooper’s sudden stopping in front of you.

“Damn, a little warning would be…” You trail off, looking ahead. “Nice.”

It had been years since you’d seen the ocean, and its grandeur isn’t lost on you. Waves lap at the thirsty shoreline, breaking up the moon’s silvery reflection. For miles and miles, as far as the eye can see, water dances and shifts until it mixes into a twilight sky on the horizon.

A childish bout of excitement washes over you as you observe. Only one more hill of sand separates you from the water. Cooper sighs as you weave around him and hustle towards it.

“Don’t you get in that water, woman.” He barks, “I ain’t fishin’ you out.”

You ignore him and hike up the next dune. Forever seems to pass as you climb upwards and you curse the sand once more. You’re almost to the top, ready to make a mad dash to the water when a voice stops you.

“Hello!” A surprisingly happy voice catches you off guard, coming from your left, “Welcome, friends!”

Cooper is immediately on guard, pulling his pistol. The Ghoul persona steps up to bat, his face all hard edges and glaring eyes. Despite the arguing and bickering you’ve been putting each other through, his protective streak drops over you like a shield. Now at your side, he nudges a shoulder in front of you.

Ghouls can take bullets a lot easier than a human, after all.

In the direction the voice came from, you take stock of not one but several figures in a circular camp. They’re grouped around an old cable spool that’s topped with bottles of various liquor and drinks, and they move to the twang of what you think is an old guitar. A small fire crackles next to the table. The guitar chords reach your ears in slow waves, an inviting tune that makes you want you go down and dance with them

The figure who’d called out is closer, hands held up in a placating manner. You’re surprised to note the familiar lack of a nose and wrinkled skin that labels him a Ghoul. He’s apparently younger than Cooper - as most Ghouls are- with skin a little less warped and blonde hair that still seems to grow rather wall from his scarred scalp.

“Woah there, brother. Take it easy.”

Cooper doesn’t relent. “We ain’t here to make friends. Just passin’ through.”

There’s something about this stranger that’s genuine. That’s not to say you haven’t met real, genuine people in the Wasteland, but kindness is something found few and far between these days. You've met a few Ghouls outside of Cooper, most of which are inherently more friendly due their outcasting from a lot of the major settlements. They’re usually chatty, comforted by the sight of a smooth-skin traveling and being in close quarters with another of their own kind.

Your Ghoul, though, is less willing to accept friendship on the fly.

“It’s not about the destination, folks. It’s about the journey.” He pauses, “And the people you meet.”

You blink at him and turn to Cooper, who snorts. “Well ain’t that sweet.”

“Listen brother, I know life is rough out there but I swear- we’re just here to enjoy what we can.” He motions over to the camp, where another male Ghoul is picking the guitar and laughing with the others.There’s no weapons lying about, and a clear line of sight in every direction.

A smile pulls at your lips, and you place one hand on Cooper’s forearm. The music is washing away any sort of hesitation you had, reinforcing the desire for rest.

“Sorry, my partner here is a little paranoid. We wouldn’t mind stopping.”

It takes a few moments of convincing (half of them being threats of physical violence) for Cooper to stand down. You’re fairly certain he knows these Ghouls are harmless, but can’t escape the suffocating paranoia that comes along with two hundred years of Wastelanding.

Shortly thereafter, you're introduced to the ragtag group, sharing only your first names and settling your things against the side of an overturned car that only has half of the roof sticking up from the sand. Kevin, Phil, Desiree, Cody and Mallorie regale you with their stories, about leaving the major settlements for a life on the road and somehow being happy and relatively unscathed by Wasteland violence.

Through it all, Cooper is predictably standoffish, amber eyes shooting daggers into anyone that gets too close.

Which, with this group, is everyone.

They aren’t just friendly, but physical, rubbing your shoulders and patting you on the back. One of the female Ghouls braids your hair while Cooper sits stock still across the firepit. They attempt to make conversation with him, most of which ends with no response. You scowl at his rudeness each time, and nudge his shoulder to prompt one word responses once you’re returned to his side of the fire.

“So, where are you folks headed?” The female Ghoul who’d braided your hair inquires.

Cooper is quiet beside you, cigarette dangling from between his lips.

“Not sure.” You answer, glancing to your side to look at the ocean. “We kind of just... Move. Wherever we can find work, we go.”

“A shame that we’re still slaves to money after being nuked.” Phil, who’s been strumming on the guitar since you joined, speaks up. “You’d think everyone could just be peaceful now.”

And that statement actually gets a reaction from Cooper. It’s a snort, but a reaction nonetheless.

“Ain’t nobody peaceful out here.” Cooper stubs his cigarette out on the rotted metal of the car, “Everybody wants somethin’. Money, drugs, power.”

“Guns.” You add, lighting your own cigarette.

“Not us.” Desiree, the very same that braided your hair, looks around the group, “We left all of that. All we want is peace.”

While it was a nice thought, you’d seen too much to ever believe it was true. The Wasteland truly metamorphosizes people, and not always in a good way. There’s always someone clamoring to be the newest leader, the brightest glow of hope for the world.

“True that, sister.” Phil lifts his drink and the group follows, toasting to her words. “And to our new friends, I hope you can find peace someday.”

You smile in spite of your own thoughts, raising the cigarette in your hand in a lazy nod to their previous toast. The group cheers once again and lifts their drinks towards the sky. You bump playfully into Cooper’s shoulder, and your Ghoul stares at you from under the brim of his dirty hat. His eyes are narrowed and you know deep down he’ll never be able to escape the grip the Wasteland has on his heart, but that doesn’t mean you won’t try your damndest to get a smile out of him.

“I got something the cowboy will like.” Phil pats his guitar as if it’s a shiny new car, “I dabble in the country genre.”

Cooper tilts his head back and steals the cigarette from between your fingers. “This oughta be good. You gonna regale us with some Johnny Cash this evenin’?”

Kevin pipes up then, smoothing out his blonde locks. “No Johnny Cash here, man. Phil’s got some original stuff. We call it ‘new age’ country.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Cooper finishes your cigarette, and starts working on lighting a second to make up for it. “Let’s hear it.”

The sarcasm drips heavy from his voice, and you resist the ever-so-common urge to slap him for his rudeness. You’re plucking the newly-lit cigarette from scarred fingers when Phil starts strumming the guitar again, now in a slow beat that immediately makes you think of the ocean swirling behind you. It’s a melody far different than that of the Wasteland radio stations, something new and creative that sends an excited tingle up your spine. You nod your head with each note, nudging the Ghoul beside you. He takes a long swig of whiskey, watching your swaying out of the corner of his eye.

“You don't know how you met me, you don't know why

You can't turn around and say goodbye.”

Happy to have something cheery in the sprawling hellscape you’re forced to live in, your smile cracks wider. Cooper is watching Phil now too, one hand resting on his thigh and the other loosely gripping his whiskey.

“Follow me, everything is alright.

I’ll be the one to tuck you in at night.

And if you want to leave, I can guarantee

You won't find nobody else like me.”

Warmth washes over you at the lyrics and you lean into Cooper’s side. He shifts around to make it comfortable for you, and the fingers of that arm find your hip. Phil keeps crooning into the night, lulling your eyes shut as your cigarette turns to ash. Your eyes flutter when Cooper takes another swig of liquor, sweeping over the group. Everyone’s swaying to the tune, singing along and dancing. It’s not until you move to settle back down that movement catches your eye and a shit-eating grin spreads across your face.

Cooper’s boot just so happens to be tapping along with the beat.

thanks for reading, much love ❤