#if you work early morning to late evening why would you get a dog
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in honor of @bg3-apprecimaytion's event!
for @again-please's iconic elusory wizard girlboss tav: neve nomani 🔮🪄 from Dancing With My Demons (please read the whole Mercurial World series btw)
@again-please if your character is misrepresented in any way just let me know and i'll delete it no questions asked ✨️this is all extrapolation
if i'm late no i'm not you didn't see anything
12. memories
snippets of neve's last day in baldur's gate. look at the clock, it's sad girl hour.
word count: 4419
storm's eye
"Do not take oaths when you graduate from Blackstaff Academy."
--Ka'a Orto'o, Gnomic Utterances, CC IV xvi
Norry's shop is little more than a hole-in-the-wall, humble stone and wood and washed-out sign ensemble of a storefront, nothing like the famed portal of children's stories you’d wander in hoping to stumble upon opportunity and adventure.
Fortune favours the ones who bet on losing dogs, so you could take a chance.
You’d push the door open and strings of bronze bells would chime the merry little tune of serendipity.
Worn out drapes over small tables and shelves lined with books, bronze and gammanium arcane tools, miniature astrolabes, the stray fire elemental trapped in a crystal globe, dancing dust particles visible in the dim sunlight filtering through the windows, strings of colourful cantrip-infused trinkets that do nothing to help the shop's reputation as a curiosity store that provides unreliable magical objects (it's an unfortunate side effect of being associated to the Enchanter's Guild's name, uncancellable subscription, no refunds).
Magic safely contained in vials, jars, airtight bottles, neatly labelled and organized the way you'd store food or legal documents or body parts in a mortuary. Not a single living thing, no skin-prickling excitement that awakens at the mere mention of 'magic'.
The place is a light inconsequential spring breeze to the pulsing cold storms of the Weave.
Behind the counter, a young woman with pleated locks of strawberry-blond hair, a pale freckle-dotted face, and magic spilling out the eyes. The scroll she'd hold in her hands would go up in flames, and you’d very wisely choose a less hazardous place of commerce.
Well, a few days ago, that's the sight you would have been greeted with.
You've only taken refuge in this empty shop to avoid the tentacled monstrosity abducting people outside, after all.
Neve should be sleeping, which signals to her brain that now is the perfect time to wake up fully and work on the eldritch cannons problem.
Mornings always come to her sharp and early, crisp like dried tea leaves--so many things to do, so many tasks to get started on, so many readings to pick back up. But the light bravely soldiering on through her round window is not even pink yet, bathing her room in blue-gray hues that do nothing to lure her away from the covers.
No matter. She's awake, now.
The silver cylinders are waiting for her on her desk, exactly where she left them last night.
Neve slips out of bed and goes through the motions of her routine--splashing frigid water on her face, putting on her brown robes laid out at the foot of her bed, braiding her hair--and her train of thought starts following the path she'd agreed on with herself a few days ago. The eldritch cannons belong to a patron, a monster hunter in need of a magic touch on top of their skills, and Norry dropped the order in Neve's lap on top of everything else.
She can't resist taking a look at them before starting her day. Cold and smooth metal under her hands. She can feel the magic embedded in the mechanism--human-made. That's not the interesting part, though. Loaded in the cannons are silver capsules, which can split open to reveal empty insides. Scattered across her desk, half-finished explosive scrolls that she keeps worryingly close to her few belongings. What's the worst that could happen, anyway? The attic going up in flames?
Yes. That's why she traced a ward of containment along the wooden rim of the desk.
The only scroll she's finished is sitting in a bowl filled with blackened remains of charred silver--a neat line of ink disables the spell, running like a seam in the middle of the scroll. This hunter's quarry requires full-silver weapons, which lowers the melting point of the material, but it cannot coexist with the scrolls that are supposed to fill the capsules. The very nature of the spell endangers the metal, reaching the too-low melting point too fast.
It's an impossible endeavour, which makes it excitingly infuriating.
How do you slow down an explosion? Or rather, force everything around it to hold together?
She's still trying to figure that part out.
The key is probably in the acceleration upon release of the mechanism's trigger, but the trick is to force the spell into holding together long enough—at least until it's out of the barrel, and out of the hunter's hand. Perhaps magical cooling would help? Books on frost magic are harder to find, but Neve is pretty sure she can get around that.
It's in cases like this that she bumps against the frustrating limits of her education. What ten-year-olds learn in academies, she has to knuckle her way through it, scraping together unrelated pieces of knowledge, reading between the lines written by long-dead archmages.
Well, no time like the present, right? First things first: harvesting the ingredients needed for the morning batches of potions.
On the roof, Neve's day dress sways on the clothesline, rippling in the wind. The chilled air carries the promise of rain, and even if she'll probably need to take her clothes to dry inside, it's a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere of the attic.
Her garden is a well-kept square made of orderly rows of magical herbs, culinary vegetables and berries. Along the neat edges of soil that turns downright frosty and hard in winter, complicated glyph patterns glow an eerie purple, keeping hungry insects away. They also form the base of an invisible energy dome protecting the plants from rain and hail--she cannot stomach seeing her little garden in ruins again, ever since a summer storm so sudden she didn't even have the time to pull the tarp up destroyed it a few years ago.
Away from the patch of earth sits a clay pot full of birdseed that she refills every tenday, when a couple of turtledoves stop on her windowsill, stretching their necks to peer inside her room. Sometimes, she'll put her work aside for a minute to get closer to them, and even if they're about to fly off, they'll change their minds and stay, letting her pet them. When she talks to them, they cock their little heads, beady black eyes watching her intently. They always stay when she talks, waiting until she's finished to leave.
It's the same couple, every time. She recognizes their matching white-spots.
(This grave is no home, they chirp. A heart-shaped hole in an axe's blade does not make it less of an axe.)
It's only her on the roof today, though.
She kneels in the madder soil of her much smaller plot of herbs--this one is surrounded by a much more potent combination of blue glyphs to keep the plants inside. That's where she grows the less appealing spell components, like daggerroot, oleander, henbane, aberrations of mugwort and rogue's morsel unfit for consumption and healing potions. Insects end up here, crushed by creeping vines, mixing with oxblood provided by the butcher's shop.
She pulls the roots and the soil stains her fingers, gets under her nails, the blood-fed stems rough to the touch.
Sharp pain lances through her wrist when she puts the roots in her woven basket, and she braces for the uncomfortable nerve-tingle that follows in her fingers. She'll try to write more with her other hand today, then.
She gets up and dusts herself off, her trousers spotted with earth and unfortunate ants.
No weavemoss here, she thinks wryly.
Neve blinks sweat out of her eyes and huffs. One more batch and she'll be done with today's first set of chores.
The fumes rising from the cauldron's surface press against her cheeks in hot swirls, and she cannot wait to wash it all off. Her eyes sting and her back is smarting with pain again and her stomach makes her acutely aware that it's almost noon.
Once she's satisfied with the colour and consistency of the mixture, she starts filling the pear-shaped glass vials that she'll have to label and put on the shelves later--but first she'll probably have to postpone lunch, she has to be in the shop to receive a shipment of wolfsbane and leave it in the decontamination salt circle for at least five days before using it, it has a bad habit of sucking the nutrients out of the soil and being a menace to the other plants, oh and there's still autumn crocus in the stocks, is there not? If not she'll have to make a quick trip to the botanical gardens, get more seeds, because the way they grow crocus (next to the strawberry stolons) is absolutely horrendous.
The cauldron is emptied until only dregs are left.
Neve settles at her workbench and starts grinding the mugwort roots she dried using her homebrewn rid-of-moisture spell. Once thoroughly crushed into a fine brown powder, she sifts it before mixing it with the pressed daggerroots in a clay bowl. She could keep going and turn this mixture into a proper oil, but that's not her end goal. Well, she is going to use it to coat the capsules and enhance their accuracy to the point that they'll never miss their target--better keep these explosions very, very localized.
However, this doesn't solve the melting off problem. The heat is dangerous for the cannons but also for the handler, who must take their mission seriously if they're willing to waste that much pure silver into a weapon, and as a result of its use, into, well, corpses (Neve tries not to think about that part too much. Yes, she's daydreamed about fire-bolting the careless cart-drivers who rush past her in the street while almost flattening playing children, but it stays what it is. A thought. She has more than an inkling that the client chose Norry's shop for its unobstrusiveness rather than for its quality of service.)
She needs something else. Something that, used in a different way, could solve her problem. Deerskin pouches rest on the shelves, but she knows none of them contains what she's looking for.
"What do you think?" She asks the cow doll slumped against her window--a gift from a little girl after she'd given her a healing potion for free three years after the start of her apprenticeship.
Black mica eyes stare back at her.
Oh gods. Two more years like this and she'd start animating the doll to get an answer.
Supply lines from the southern Sword Coast have been cut for weeks, narrowing the range of ingredients at her disposal. The Merchant's League is supposedly working on it, but most of the shops she frequents have been relying on stocks and seaborne trade. With certain components missing, one has to get creative and be willing to crack some eggs at random for... mixed results, to say the least.
Neve doesn't need to go through a lot of trial and error. She just knows. She sees the experiment failing before even setting up the materials.
She has to. She's running on limited reserves of time and energy.
Experiments play out to the end in her head, or stop when something goes awry--a misshapen ward, an ingredient shortage, too much heat under the cauldron, unsought results. When she encounters a problem that needs many steps for solving, she lays them out neatly, holds them each in her mind's eye, spins them in six or seven different directions to establish the most efficient and cost-effective way of accomplishing her task. Sometimes, an unexpected development prompts her to drop lines of thought, or add new ones.
Ingredients don't behave in unexpected ways unless you make them.
When she sees the solution too soon, it leaves her with mixed feelings. Yes, it's gained time, but she likes the challenge, and the feeling of being right that follows.
Small victories. She'll take them.
Maybe a temporary seal on the capsules to isolate them?
Norry is (or, rather, was a long, long time ago) a sealing specialist, and the back of the shop houses stacks upon stacks upon stacks of books on ward technique left to gather dust and cobwebs. Neve's made her way through a solid third of the collection, but quickly realized this was more a hoarder's trove of mostly dead languages than useful accounts of sealing spells. Still, she keeps a new tome on her bedside table, writing down any new information she can make out of it, referring to her translation notes and inferring purpose and spell components from context and common sense.
Her old master doesn't care much for frivolity or obvious displays of sentimentality, but he treasures most of his books like they're his own children.
He sure cares about them more than he does about Neve, not that his indifference comes from a place of genuine malice.
At least she's not on the streets selling her backside to the highest bidder, but there are some nights when even this thought offers only meagre comfort, nor does the knowledge that this alternative wouldn't have bothered anyone, least of all her parents.
Nights become the theatre of uncomfortable dreams--a cottage in faraway farmlands, where she'll be blessedly alone and only worry about her raspberry bushes and honeysuckle flowerbeds that she'll grow only for tea, no more soulless potion brewing in a dark room, coffee in the morning and getting dressed up to go nowhere, free to do whatever she wants with her days.
A place that's hers, no conditions attached, and in her wildest dreams, it's built for two.
She dreams of a slow, peaceful, rose-tinted life and doesn't think about the implications of retirement, because to retire she'd first have to live through something, anything, and it hurts and it doesn't stop there, because even though it's been ten years memories and dreams still blur together.
The in and out of a sewing needle, the embroidered bodice of a recently-mended pinafore dress that will be outgrown in a year and never mended again, lilac-scented hair she buried her face in, the forgotten feeling of laying her head on someone's shoulder, of a hug--
--a feral smile dripping with blood, the cut of a diamond, magic coursing through her marrow, splitting the skies, shattering the earth--
--waking up, the dream already evaporating, leaving her with the ghost of it, sitting on the edge of her bed, her guts twisting with aching loneliness, lack and emptiness all around her.
Others she spends in the throes of nightmares that never end nor clarify. Undefined. Black chasms and the slow agony of breath forced out of her lungs, burdened down, down, and this single thought like a death sentence, like cold truth: forever. this life all alone forever and ever and ever.
Those nights end with her eyes snapping open like a mechanical toy's from the artificer's shop, her brain leaning back in its chair, satisfied like a cat who got the cream of despair, I'm done! Please go on with your day! and she does, of course she does, because what other choice does she have?
Adjusting the shoulder strap of her satchel across her chest, Neve smooths the rumples of her day dress and locks up the shop, checking the defensive wards one more time--Norry left for an astronomy conclave with old colleagues in the countryside, entrusting her with the completion of the ongoing commissions and the never-ending list of magical items of service that need enchanting.
She's got some way to go before reaching Rivington, where she is to post a letter to Candlekeep.
Despite her earlier predictions, it hasn't rained yet.
She walks past busted open crates, wine spilling on the cobblestone path, broiling low clouds casting shadows across the buildings, wind carrying the smell of salt and fish and rotting fruit from the docks, the mix cloying in the back of her throat. It could have made for an unappealing brew if Neve didn't relish every second spent outside. Everything beats feeling like an old maid sealed off away from civilisation. Conversations no longer muted by walls reach her ears, the hum of the city, the hustle and bustle of shopkeepers.
Being lonely in a crowd rivals being alone in the attic.
Her path leads her closer to the docks, zig-zagging between sailors unloading ships, coming and going and dragging crates that clink with the tell-tale sound of wine and whiskey and rum bottles, the rumble of their steps on the gangplanks like the familiar ticking of clockwork.
Ivory tiles of Bite and Sting blink at her from a draughts stand, hand-painted bees and foxes and wolves laid up or down, sailors swearing and mutually accusing each other of cheating. Its companion card deck lies ignored in the muddy puddle at the sailors' feet. A few paces away, a lanceboard is perched on a barrel where two lanky laundresses are leaning on their elbows. Neve slows down, just enough to check out the board, and she can tell they're playing by Moonsea rules, if the broken Mystras laying on their side are anything to go by.
Near a warehouse, elderly seafarers skewer and skillet fish gasping for water. A rivulet of blood serpents around the lumps of wood and drips to the ground, carrying ripped scales.
High noon sunrays glint off Steel-Watchers patrolling on the piers. Neve can't say she likes seeing them around, but she can't deny she's curious to know what kind of spell animates them. She put aside incredibly rare books on armor magic from Khorvaire that Norry keeps in boxes in the attic like they're worthless junk but it seems she never has enough time to settle down and catch up on all her reading.
Watching the ebb and flow of low waves against the wooden pier pillars reminds her of all her compiled notes on elemental magic. She has no one to share them with, no one to comment on the capillaries-bursting focus she's attained to channel lightning, crackling wisps of blue light between her fingers, she'd been so ecstatic over finally managing to do it that she'd immediately broken her concentration the first time. No one to remark on her control of water, which she primarily uses to conduct electricity. No one to talk to, at all.
It's fine, though. She's spent ten years virtually on her own in Baldur's Gate. She can handle herself.
And if she hugs herself at night pretending to be held by someone else, and if she sometimes goes to Umberlee’s temple and skims her fingers over the flowers floating in the fountains and holds them in her hands long enough to convince herself she has someone to give them to, and if she dreams of curling up and laying her head against someone’s chest to fall asleep to the sound of their heartbeat, well.
No one has to know.
The carrier pigeons of Sword Coast Couriers lounge under the sun, coats of feathers puffed up around them, looking like satisfied, plump, red and brown balls.
They look so peaceful to Neve, unburdened by debt and earthly matters and free to go wherever they wish.
They tweet at her as she enters the post office.
Danzo Arkwright, dwarven head honcho of the postal service, stands behind the counter, arguing with a customer--a darkling, hood lowered.
"No, no, no! Your hells-spawned bird already murdered seven of my carrier pigeons!"
An outraged gasp. "Hells-spawned? How dare you? He's as pure and innocent as the day he hatched from his egg! These were all unfortunate--"
"Well, I'm afraid I cannot let it join the ranks of the carriers."
The darkling clicks his tongue, pulls his hood up, draws himself up to his full height--Neve's, give or take the thickness of a hair--and turns on his heels.
On his way out, Neve catches a small flash of grey feathers and yellow-ringed eyes of the cuckoo he cradles in the crook of his elbow.
(He's saying Kill your whole family with an oyster knife. Do it and you'll be free. He's really fun at parties though, and this whole cannibalism affair in 1487 was a complete misunderstanding.)
Danzo glares daggers at his back until he recognizes Neve and smiles.
"Miss Nomani," he greets, crow's feet deepening around his eyes. He used to see a lot of her when she still sent letters to her father, and winked at her conspiratorially whenever she slipped a new letter to The Baldurian Post's editor across the wooden counter.
Still, his gaze quickly leaves hers when he spots another regular behind her.
She hands him the letter and thanks him before leaving.
The darkling is nowhere in sight, and she decides to allow herself one wishful trip to Sorcerous Sundries before going back to the shop.
A month ago, the Castle of Tomes issued a challenge: every scholar of magic was invited to send a new classification of the complete works of Ka'a Orto'o. If the classification was deemed an improvement compared to the previous one, the scholar would win the privilege of hearing their name added to the prayers of the Avowed.
And nine thousand gold coins.
Mostly nine thousand gold coins.
Of course, a wizard always pursues knowledge for knowledge's sake.
But nine thousand gold coins can't hurt someone's pride, which is a crucial aspect to consider when one has to deal with wizards, and it's a good carrot to convince scholars to dive back in Orto'o's works.
The true order of composition of Gnomic Utterances is a hotly debated topic in a pinpoint niche of the wizarding community. Voluntarily published out of order and purposefully mislabelled, it comes only second to the complete works of Volothamp Geddarm in terms of inanity and usefulness.
These works have nothing to envy to each other--rife with historical inaccuracies, bad puns, and piecemeal points of interest. It's a colossal waste of ink and paper and breath in arguments--in the year 1432, two wizards destroyed an entire reconstructed spelljammer fleet outside of Melvaunt in an explosion of magic after their discussion got too heated.
Unlike most wizards, Norry seems to have lost the need for posturing and constant ego-stroking, and thus didn't even spare a glance for the letter informing him of this challenge, resuming his tasks with the characteristic unhurried pace of an immortal being.
Which was tacit permission for Neve to sign up.
(To be quite honest, it's the hotly debated part that attracted Neve in the first place.)
It's the kind of work that relies on the reader to understand. But understand what?
Neve is a self-taught wizard through and through. She's used to figuring things out on her own. She's studied books until her eyes started weeping blood.
This proved not to be much different.
Of course, these books are an assortment of the most moronic, even if somewhat amusing in an absurd way, thoughts to have ever crossed anyone's mind since Ao created the Realms.
That's not what's important about them.
People have spent so much time unable to see the forest for the trees and dismissing Ka'a Orto'o as a bumbling old fool of a gnome that they've missed what was always sitting in front of them.
Because Gnomic Utterances paints a bigger picture: a complete map of Baldur's Gate ley lines--the most basic of basics of a wizard's education. There's a reason why the city is more often than not simply called "the Gate". It's not enough to read the words--a cryptographic approach suited this endeavour a lot better. In the right order, sentences bounce off of each other to create a brand new text.
The city is a gate for what Orto'o calls "the Swarm", some sort of collective-consciousness entity sealed off somewhere hundreds of years ago.
Even if Neve wasn't positive her proposition is the right one, she knows it's at least an interesting interpretation backed up by textual and magical evidence.
She's put in all the work she could. Now she can only wait for a response.
She signed the letter with her own alliterative initials, N.N.
Usually, everything that leaves Norry's shop bears Norry's seal. It's a frustrating erasure of Neve's work, and at the same time a safety net that fuels Neve's fear of being found out. That one day she'll be looked at and looked through and she'll have to make up for the fact that it's only her. That hypothetical people will assess and dismiss her in the same look.
As long as no one knows, as long as it's only her with herself, she's safe.
The solution hits Neve as she cracks an egg against the counter.
Yellow yolk spills in the pan and instantly starts sizzling, and she looks for her inkwell to write it down before she forgets. She's too tired to work on anything more tonight, but she'll get it started first thing tomorrow morning.
It's well into the night already, and she's barely pep-talked herself into eating a little before finally passing out on her bed.
Her brown robes are neatly folded and laid out on her small coffer, ready to be put on tomorrow, and there's nothing but the grating sound of her feather against parchment in the bare room.
A clutter of meaningless knick-knacks that see her leave in the morning and come back in the evening. Ropes of thyme and mint to drown out the burnt stench of cauldron dregs. Half-hearted attempts to decorate the place over the past ten years, but it'll take more than her good will and the smell of humid wood on rainy days to turn this attic into a home she'll be happy to go back to.
The space is lived in because she lives here, not because it's hers.
Surely, there are better ways to fall asleep that don't involve the gnawing feeling of being part of the book and arcane tools collection, left to be coated in dust and dashed hopes.
Surely.
Her scarce belongings are exactly where she left them.
Her abandoned and creased day dress, the bundle of unsent letters she keeps under her pillow, the little cow plush slowly losing its fluff. Dusty books on a bedside table, notes sticking out from various pages. Outside, the garden left to wither under a protection dome that's slowly killing it now that no one's here to renew it properly. Turtledoves pecking at an empty clay pot.
The little attic doesn't miss her, or wait for her return.
Don't think it cold-hearted.
It's just glad she got away.
#bg3apprecimaytion2024#did i write this whole thing just to make a “animals talk but you don't have speak with animals on” joke?#yes#also she should be at the club imo#if neve had drawn cards on the wharf she would have gotten#one of squids#two of bats#three of hydras#which is not a nice suite but!#it would have been topped by six of crows#i love her your honor#btw know that management apologizes if the quote wasn't irrelevant enough pls forgive us
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I took her to the Vet for a check up/fecal test and yeah she did have worms :) and then when I got home my neighbor called and said her owners where posting on nextdoor looking for her, so thankfully she wasn't one of the byb dumped dogs but i still think it's weird to have left a malamute puppy outside in the Texas heat with fleas and worms while you're at work all day.. we found her early in the morning and they weren't home and posting about her missing till nearly 12am.
anyway we gave her back to her owners after the vet... hope not to see her running around in the streets again because this is the 2nd or 3rd time shes been seen running around the neighborhood. unreal.
#prattle#maybe people will think im a dick for this but i didnt really want to give her back lol#was talking to them about the worms and they said they planned to get around to it..#i just dont know why you would get a probably around $1000-$1500 malamute and just leave it outside#if you work early morning to late evening why would you get a dog#the other dog the adult husky that was running with the puppy also had a ruined coat and was bone skinny#im probably being a dick but if not for my neighbor setting me up i wouldnt have responded to their post#i work with dogs a lot and have a special interest in animal care so its really irritating to have to hand a puppy back to that situation#i just hope they meant what they said and are going to do better for her#though i guess i just like to complain
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I want to increase our family!
Featuring: Kazuha, Childe, Diluc, Zhongli, Kaveh
Prompt: They ask you to have a child!
Warnings: Fem! Reader, fluff, too much romace on this,established relationship/marriage.
A/n: For some reason these headcannons are one of my favorites! Besides that this is one of my favorites brainrots.
Kazuha:
Kazuha, would be quite shy to ask you for this, even if it was something he wanted very much. He didn't know how you would take the news, even if he had been daydreaming about the idea for a while.
"My dear, I want to talk to you." He calls you, rather fearfully. His heart was beating so fast, even he wondered why he was so nervous.
You sat down on the couch with him, and even without talking to him you could see that he was anxious.
"What's wrong?" You squeeze one of his hands, making him look at you.
He swallows, then gives a silly little smile, "I wish there was someone else here, not just the two of us." And he regrets it right after he speaks, how could he have been so clumsy with a simple sentence?
"Are you thinking of bringing someone to live here?" Your confused face already said perfectly that you hadn't understood anything.
"N-no, no." He sighed, why the hell was this so embarrassing?
You hold his face, looking at him with a frown, "You look weird, what's wrong?"
"I want to grow our family, I really do." He holds both your hands, gripping tightly.
You smiled with confusion at first, but after seeing his expression you understood what he meant.
"… Do you mean kids?" And now it was you who was nervous, even though you two had been married for a while, it was different when this conversation comes up like this.
"Yes, I would love to. I'd love you to carry my children." And he was so sincere, so kind. Even if he was in a cold sweat, completely nervous. He was still all cautious with you.
You gave a blown smile, it was so special to hear him talking to you like that. He was more than ready to take that step, and he wanted to very much.
"You have no idea how much I want to." You smiled beautifully, and he grabbed you in a hug so strong, so genuine.
"We'll be the best parents, you can be sure." He assures you.
And about that you could have no doubt, Kazuha would do everything to be the best father possible. He would work hard from the time you were pregnant until the time the baby was born, and he couldn't wait for that moment. You were very special to him, and he would settle down and live happily with the family he would make with you, the love of his life.
Kaveh:
Since early morning Kaveh was pacing around, he was anxiously waiting for you to come home. Lately he could only think of one thing, he wanted to have kids with you, he just didn't know how to bring it up.
His face flickered as soon as he heard the sound of the door opening, it was you who had just arrived.
"My sweetheart, how was your day?" It was the first thing he always asked you, regardless.
"It was good as far as possible, and you?" You give him a little kiss, and he returns it.
"It was great, great. I wanted to talk about something with you." He says reluctantly, he felt so nervous.
You look at him a little puzzled, precisely because he seems a little tense, "About what? Did something happen?"
"It's because I wanted to grow our family, you know? Something beyond the two of us." And there he was, he had prepared so much, but the words seemed to come out all messed up.
You look at him with a frown and ask, "Do you want a pet? Don't tell me you want to bring those desert foxes home." You say smiling, squeezing his cheeks.
"The foxes? Pffff, no, that wasn't quite it." He gives one of those nervous laughs, his gaze a little confused.
"Then what? Any of the street dogs you've seen around? Or was it a kitten?" And he was getting more and more clumsy, how could he say that?
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and relaxing a bit, thinking to himself 'it's going to be okay Kaveh, you can do it.'
He hugs you, holding you tight and close to him, and then he whispers, "We've been married for a while now, and I was wondering if you could give me the joy of having a copy of ourselves running around this house." And your eyes widened at what he said, now you understood what he meant.
"Do you want to have kids with me?" You stammered, it turned out you felt as afraid as he did.
He pulled back a little and looked at you, his eyes filled with love, "Yes my dear, I want to very much."
Your heart beat so fast, you knew that at some point he would ask you for it, Kaveh was always very good with children.
"'B-but you don't have to feel pressured, in case you don't want to-"
"Of course I do, my darling, I want it as much as you do." His face lit up, he smiled happily, the kind of smile that made you mesmerized.
He takes you in his arms and gives you a twirl, "I'm going to be the best dad in the world, and you're going to be the best mom!"
From now on, the only thing he would talk about was the baby, he couldn't wait to see you pregnant. He would prepare the best outfits, the best room, he would give everything of the best quality to the child, and of course the main thing, love.
Diluc:
Ever since Diluc asked you to marry him, he was sure that he wanted to have a family with you. And he thinks it's high time to talk to you about it, and he was so nervous, it was still something he didn't know if you wanted, and he was eager for an answer.
And he had been thinking all day about a way to broach the subject, and now that he was coming home it seemed he had forgotten everything he had planned. He came into the house, and went straight to your shared bedroom.
And there you were, reading the book while waiting for him, his heart warmed every time he came home and saw you, no matter how long you were together, the feeling was always the same.
"My love, you came home late today." And as always you welcome him with a smile, opening your arms to cuddle him.
And there he went, snuggled in your arms, feeling at home.
"Have you ever thought about adding to our family?" was the first thing he said, as always Diluc was direct, although he wanted to be a little more delicate this time.
You were disconcerted by the sudden question, was he referring to a kitten you had been taking care of for a week?
"Oh, you mean the cat? I was going to talk to you, I really want to bring him to our house." He grunted, and you realized that wasn't what he meant.
"No, of course you can bring the kitten if you want, it's your house too after all." He raised his face, leaning his forehead on yours, "I'm talking about us, about having a baby."
His face was so red, and yet he looked at you so tenderly. And you're surprised, and then you find yourself smiling like a fool.
"So that's why you've been distant lately? You've been thinking about it all week, haven't you?" You stroke his red strands, as he wraps his arms around you.
"Yes, I was thinking of a way to ask you that, in a way that was more…. Gentle. I guess I failed." He says in a sigh, and you can't help and end up letting out a laugh.
"You have that way about you, I couldn't have asked for it in a better way. I'm ready, I really want it." You caressed his face, gently tracing your fingers over his cheeks.
He gave a sweet smile, relieved even. He came over and kissed you, full of love and affection.
"I love you, very much. Thank you for that." He murmurs as he lays you down on the bed gently.
Diluc would be an exemplary father, unmatched in every way. Just as he was a perfect husband, and he would look forward to seeing a little child running around that big house. He couldn't wait to see you pregnant, carrying his little ones. And he would arrange to have you pregnant as soon as possible.
Childe:
"So my love, what do you think of kids?" Out of the blue, that's how he would start this conversation.
All you did was look at him confused, you believed he was talking about his siblings, he had talked about trying to bring them to live with the two of you.
"I like them, but why the question? Do you want to bring your siblings to visit us?" You looked at him, and he had a little smile on his lips.
He ran a hand through his hair, and then said, "I do too, but I don't mean that. What do you think about having our own child?" And he wasn't the least bit embarrassed, quite the contrary.
And you blushed a little, as you instinctively put your hand on your belly, "So you want to?"
As if you had asked the question with the most obvious answer he nodded, quickly moving closer to you.
"Can you imagine these little ones running around the house? I can't wait to play with one of them." And now you understood why during the week he had been buying baby things, clothes, socks, shoes, bottles. Every little thing you could imagine.
"What do you mean, one of them?" He had already talked about his desire, and he had respected the fact that you didn't feel ready yet. But that didn't say he was going to tell you about it every chance he got.
"I want more than one, don't you?" Childe was a man who wanted a big family, and if you wanted it that way too, there would be lots of little ones in that house.
You laughed and put your hands on his neck, ruffling his hair. "You're eager, aren't you? Ever since we got married you've been talking about it."
He wrapped his arms around your waist, "It's just the thought of seeing you pregnant, of having a smaller version of you. I can't help myself!" He kisses you, sweet and calm.
"Then we should try to have one of our own, don't you think?" With a smile from corner to corner you say it, and he's soon completely overjoyed. As if you've just given him the happiest news in the world.
He scoops you up in his arms, giving you a tight hug, "Right! right! I saw a store that sells stuff for kids, I can show you!" And he's already talking as if you're pregnant, eyes shining with the purest enthusiasm. "You'll show me later, you've bought quite a lot of stuff like that this week haven't you?" You ask him in a laugh, and then he puts you down.
"It wasn't that much, just a few things." And he kissed you again, he just couldn't help himself after receiving such news.
In the middle of the kiss he murmurs, "I'm going to spoil you rotten, you know that right?" As if he needed to say that, he already spoils you normally, pregnant then.
Prepare your ears, because you would only hear about this subject for the next few months. And Childe would be even more euphoric with the confirmation of your pregnancy, which would certainly not take long to happen, the future dad Childe would not waste time.
Zhongli:
As a man who had lived long ago, Zhongli had many desires, and one of those was to see his beloved wife carrying in her womb the fruit of his love, his own kids. As you had been married for many, many years, this had always been a topic that you both spoke about easily, but only now had Zhongli taken the courage to make this request. He wanted to see you pregnant, carrying his clutch. He had always been very thoughtful about it, because he didn't know if he would be able to raise a child properly, and so he learned, and observed literally everything about it, and so he could draw his own conclusions. And being married to you, that was his will, and now he felt a security to be a father, and to increase the family. Even if it didn't seem like it, Zhongli liked the idea of a big family, he wouldn't mind if it were just the both of you, but the idea of several miniatures of you and him running around made his heart warm.
"Good morning my dear." It was the first thing you heard as soon as you opened your eyes in the arms of your beloved.
"Morning, have you been awake long?" You snuggle into his chest, as he gently strokes your hair.
"It's been a while, I had some things on my mind." And you lifted your head to look at him, Zhongli was usually not easily fretted, so you puzzled over what might be on his mind.
And he laughed as soon as he saw your sleepy little face all confused, you were a very adorable little thing.
"I was thinking about us, about our future." And again he caught your eye, you were all focused on him.
"Did I do something?" You murmur, your voice overcome by sleep.
He laughs again, then replies, "No, don't worry, but yes, it's about you, about both of us."
You sit up in bed, and stare at him with a stunned expression, thoughts scrambling just as much.
"…?"
He puts his hand on your belly, gently stroking, "I'd love for us to expand our family, what do you say?"
You look at him with a smile, silly of you to think he meant a pet. You could tell by the look on his face that he was so looking forward to it, it was one of the few pleasures he hadn't experienced yet, and now he wanted to do it with you.
"Do you think we're ready?" And it was always an insecurity, after all raising and teaching a child was not an easy task, far from it.
"We'll only know if we try, it's your choice." Now he held your hand, stroking it with his thumb. Like the gentleman he was, he would never force you to do anything, everything you did would be of your own free will.
With a blush on your face you turn back to him, nestling into his chest. "So I guess we should work on that, right?"
And he smiled, a smile so bright and so beautiful. He was relieved to know that like him you wanted it too.
"Of course we should, my dear." He was excited, he couldn't wait to see you beautifully pregnant, and then to see his baby into the world.
Even though there was still a long time to go, he would already start planning changes in the house, just as he would already start to take an interest in baby utensils, in a very short time the house would be full of these things. And as for pregnancy, you should not worry, he will certainly not take long to leave you pregnant, he would do it as soon as possible.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin imagines#genshin x y/n#zhongli x reader#genshin fanfic#zhongli x y/n#kaveh x y/n#kaveh x reader#kaveh x you#kazuha x y/n#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#diluc x y/n#diluc x reader#diluc x you#childe x y/n#childe x reader#childe x you#childe headcanons#zhongli x you#zhongli headcanons#kaveh headcanons#diluc headcanons#kazuha headcanons#zhongli#kaveh#diluc#kaedehara kazuha
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Daylight
Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here).
A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.
The sunlight wakes you the next morning.
It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.
Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.
That seems more likely.
You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that.
The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.
But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.
You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.
You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.
Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.
“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.
“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”
“Really? That was rude of him.”
“Very.”
He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”
Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.
7:38 am.
“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”
Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”
“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”
You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”
“I’d never,” he says.
“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”
You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”
You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.
“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.
“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”
You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.
You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.
You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.
“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.
“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.
“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”
He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”
“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”
His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.
“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit
You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.
“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”
“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”
You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in.
“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”
Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.
Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.
“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”
Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”
He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.
You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.
“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.
It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.
The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying.
You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.
“All right?” he asks softly.
You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.
It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.
“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.
Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.
But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.
It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.
The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.
Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).
But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.
“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.
“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.
“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”
You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.
“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”
You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.
“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”
You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.
You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.
His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.
It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.
“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.
He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”
You grin. “Not even a little?”
He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”
His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”
He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”
“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.
The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.
The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.
“You are way too good at this,” you say.
“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”
“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”
He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”
“We’ll see.”
The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.
His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again.
“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.
“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.
“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.
“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”
“We are already running late—”
“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”
“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”
“I’ve waited so long, darling.”
“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.
“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.
You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.
Fuck.
You are definitely going to have sex again.
His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.
“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”
And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.
It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.
Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.
He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”
You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”
He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”
“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.
Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”
“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”
He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”
“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”
“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.
“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”
Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”
“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.
Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”
Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.
“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”
“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”
“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”
You blink at him. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.
“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.”
“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”
“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.
“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”
Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”
Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It���s not exactly rocket science.”
You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”
“You’re taking his side?”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”
It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.
“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.
You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”
“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”
“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”
“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”
“To sleep?” you tease.
“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”
The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.
You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”
#loki smut#loki x reader smut#loki x reader#loki laufeyson smut#loki x female reader#loki x female reader smut#loki laufeyson#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#tva loki x reader#overtime series
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In the Hybrid AU, would Gojo be a rabbit or another cat hybrid? Because you’ve got Rabbit Gojo who’s using his cute looks to his advantage but also secretly horny all the time and wants to breed little cute bunnies inside you. Then you’ve got Catoru, who’s the pamper type who loves making mischief and knocking things off the table just for funnsies.
Yes, Avy and I talked about this a few weeks back, and came to a consensus that he’d definitely be a bunny! (pampered Catoru gives me fuzzy feelings too. Because he’s pretty like one of those persian cats with blue eyes.) I do think it’s funny that baby rabbits are called kits/kittens, too.
+breeding, dubious consent, hybrids, fem!reader
Gojo’s a smart and silly little bun bun, who definitely uses his cuteness to get what he wants! He may have an adorable twitchy nose, whiskers, and fuzzy ears. His bouncing around during JJK 0 is his version of zoomies, which is what tricked you into taking him home.
Yet, he causes nothing but trouble. Digging through stuff around the house, constantly eating your snacks, bothering your curtains and sheets, and taunting the neighbors’ dogs. You thought you were getting a sweet, innocent bunny, not Bugs Bunny.
If he can’t work his way out of something on his own, he’s confident his luck will get him out of any trouble he causes. Always laughing away the problem because he has “lucky rabbit’s feet”.
He loves it when you scratch the top of his head and groom him. He’s super-fast and can fight well, so you don’t have to worry about him getting into fights with other hybrids. In fact, wolf-dog hybrid Suguru is his best friend.
He really likes sweets and fruits too. Gojo would inhale them if you let him, reminding you of the folklore of rabbits making rice cakes on the moon. With Gojo’s sweet tooth, you can see why it became a legend.
He’s bonded himself to you, so he loves to cuddle up with you for daily naps and tries to groom you. However, he’s really bad about keeping you up during the late hours and early morning when he’s the most awake before sleeping throughout the day like an innocent lil’ fuzzy.
Gojo scent marks you, constantly dragging his chin over your head and against your belongings to let others know you’re a part of his territory. He gets pouty, grumpy, and clingy when you’re around other rabbit hybrids. He also has really bad personal space issues, circling around you and yapping away to get your attention (because he considers you his mate!).
He wants to breed his cute little bunnies in you. He wonders, “How many kits can humans have at one time?” Two? Three? Six? Sometimes those shows on TV have 9! He thinks 6 is a good overall goal number. To start, anyway.
He's going to think about it all day, every day. There's a reason the saying "breed like rabbits exists". He gets so hard thinking about you. You don't even have to do anything. The idea of breeding you with his babies, a daydream of little yous with the same bunny ears as him is enough to make him want to mount you.
You think playing with his fluffy tail, watching it flick back and forth, and rubbing his fuzzy white ears is a cute way to tease him but all you’re doing is working up an already horny mind that was ready to mount you as soon as you rolled out of that bed in the morning.
If you pet him one more time, he’s going to grab you, pull you into his lap, and use his thick legs to part yours. You barely touched your bunny, but he’s already hard and pulling out his dripping cock to breed you. It’s your fault for starting it, doe! And if you try to wiggle away, he thinks you’re just playing a game with him. Weren’t you just grooming him?
Gojo will treat you so well most of the time though. He knows how to use his tongue to groom you, especially down there, and he is aware he has you when you start to make pretty little moans for him. He’ll have you soaking wet and choking up before he thinks about breeding you with his cute little fluffballs. You’re not even going to think about it when he presses his weight against your back, bites hard on your shoulder, and start to thrust like he's possessed.
He’ll keep going into you’re overstimulated and begging for rest, but he keeps his arms wrapped around you to stop all your squirming, begging not just yet, one more time, doe. It’s always one more time with him during his rut. One more orgasm, one more thrust, one more kit--please, please, please, doe--he knows you can.
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#jjk smut#notsfw#adelssmut#tw: hybrids#tw: hybrid au
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Coach Syverson
Okay, Y'all I'm trying something new and posting one of my Henry Cavill Character fics. I haven't posted a fanfic in so long it's gonna be a short story probably only a two-parter maybe 3. Let me know what you think! I loved writing this. I think it's so cute!!!!
Warnings: None for Part 1 :) Definitely will be smut in part 2!
High school football coach Sy and school guidance counselor OFC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was locked in a trance, typing in progress notes from an early morning meeting I’d just finished with a student. The sounds of the office, which was just coming to life outside my door, fuelled me. I almost never came in this early. But, one of my seniors was having a crisis and this was the only time we could work into her busy schedule. It’s gonna break my heart when that girl graduates this year. I get so attached to the students. I can’t help working as a school counselor. It's hard not to.
“You’re in early,” The voice coming from the doorway made me jump. He chuckled softly. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” After a brief heart attack, I finally looked up. I smiled when my eyes met his.
“No, it’s okay, I just didn’t see you! Good morning Coach, What can I do for you?” His soft blue eyes held my gaze, before shooting me a gentle smile. Coach Syverson and I had become good friends since he started working at the school a little over a year ago. Like many good high school football coaches, they made a history teaching spot for him. Unlike others, he’s actually a great teacher!
I met Logan Syverson for the first time in a staff meeting. Our principal introduced him at the beginning of the meeting going on and on about all the improvements he would bring to our team and our community. He certainly looked like a football player. The guy was huge! Tall, large muscles, and a full beard. His eyes were a deep blue. He had a winning smile and a southern accent. The English department was drooling. I hated him immediately.
I figured he was just going to be a self absorbed prick like the last coach. who only cared about the popular students, peaked in high school, and got fired because he got a little too close to one of the cheerleaders. We were not at all sorry to see him go. Well, those of us with half a brain weren’t anyway. Some of the community and staff were more worried about the football program. But I digress.
I was even more annoyed with him when I caught him falling asleep during the same meeting 30 minutes later when we were discussing the budget for new textbooks. I’m not exactly sure what came over me but I kicked him under the table. He was immediately alert. I expected him to glare at me. Or maybe even smirk. But the look on his face could only be described as apologetic. He quickly caught up to me when we were leaving the meeting. “Some first impression I made, huh?” When I didn’t immediately respond he added. “I swear I’m not some asshole that doesn’t care about education, that’s not like me, just didn’t sleep much last night. I had to take my dog to the emergency vet, she broke her leg in the woods late in the evening and didn’t get back until late and…”
“Is she okay?” I asked quickly. He looked completely dumbfounded.
“Uhm what?” He asked, clearly confused. I smiled sympathetically. I did exactly what I told my students not to do and judged him too quickly and I felt like an ass about it.
“You’re dog, is she okay?” He smiled softly and nodded.
“Yeah, Yeah she is. They got her all wrapped up and in a cast, poor pup, but she’ll be alright.” There was a brief pause and then. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“The students know me as Miss Plummer, but it’s Alayna. And um.. Sorry I kicked you. I don’t know why I did that.” I smiled sheepishly.
“Alayna,” He repeated. And then chuckled and squeezed my shoulder “No need to apologize, I’m glad you did. That would’ve been embarrassing. Falling asleep in my first staff meeting doesn’t really look good. Thanks for saving my ass back there!”
We were fast friends from that point on!
Sy pushed off the door frame he’d been leaning against and walked into my office. “Brought ya coffee, I was gonna sneak in and leave it on your desk but I guess it’s you surprising me this morning,” He said, setting the cup from our local coffee shop down on my desk.
“That’s sweet of you!” I took a sip and almost choked. I expected just plain black coffee. He wasn’t the kind of guy to order fancy coffee. But this was actually my coffee order. “How did you know my coffee order?” He had a big grin on his face now.
“I remembered it from that morning when we ran into each other in line a few weeks ago. Thought I’d be nice and bring my work wife some coffee since I was there.” He shrugged. He really was such a sweetheart. He looked tough and scary. I know he did. When he and a few of the other teachers in the history hall gathered between classes they looked intimidating. At least from a student's perspective.I knew them all well though. I’ve talked with students failing his class because they wouldn’t ask questions. When I asked why, they said they were nervous. But he was certainly no one to be afraid of. Yes, he could yell, but he saved that for the football field. The man was a damn teddy bear.
“Thank you!” I smiled. I quickly looked out into the guidance office to make sure there were no students around. “But I know you didn’t walk all the way down here just to bring me coffee for the hell of it. You’re buttering me up for something. What do you need, Logan?” He laughed and shook his head plopping down on the edge of my desk.
“You know me too well, sugar. Two things!” He said. I rolled my eyes. “Hey now young lady, don’t get an attitude with me I’m not asking you to give up a kidney!” I hid my smirk behind a sip of coffee and nodded at him to continue. “First, Can you look up Ty’s grades for me just at some point by the end of the day. He came into my office this morning and was all nervous about his algebra grade, swearing up and down it’s because he failed one quiz. But, I’m pretty sure,” I cut him off.
“He’s not turning in his homework because he just started dating Caitlyn and they’ve been staying up texting all night.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Uh, Yeah, How’d you know?”
“Caitlyn stopped in to see me this morning and we had a chat about it, amongst other things. I’ll double check but I’m sure you’re right. I’ll email it to you so you can have a chat with him. I was going to call him in today but he listens better to you. When you talked about being a veteran and your time in Iraq at the Labor Day assembly, I think that really struck something with him. He looks up to you.” his eyes locked with mine and he smiled softly placing his hand over mine on the desk just for a second.
“Thank you for saying that,” He said before moving his hand and leaning on the desk again. I just smiled.
“What’s the other thing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because you could’ve just sent me that in an email.” He smirked. And his nose crinkled a little. Oh no.
“So our first away game is tomorrow night,”
“I know,”
“And you’re a big football fan, and you love those boys don’t you?” He was deflecting
“What do you want, Sy?” I asked again. He let out a long breath.
“Carol was supposed to be a student chaperone for the student fans buuuttt well, you heard her kid is really sick? I need you to come chaperone. Actually. I kinda already said you would.” He quickly stood up from my desk and backed up to the other side, like he was afraid I’d hit him.
I just leaned back in my chair and groaned,
“ugh Sy! What if I had plans?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled
“You don’t!” I scoffed
“You don’t know that?” I retorted. He smirked
“Yeah, what big plans do you have for Friday night?” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. I sighed.
“Okay I don’t! But I could’ve!” I argued. “Why, didn’t you ask one of the other guys? Like Nick or I don’t know Mike?” I asked.
“Nick’s an assistant coach, he’ll already be there. And we both know as much as Mike loves teaching…he does not want to spend his Friday night with the kids and at a football game making sure there’s no funny business. And you love the kids.” He was pleading now. Practically giving me puppy dog eyes. “And…Maybe I want you there,” He winked playfully. I looked down and jiggled the mouse on my computer to hide my blush.
Jessica, who works the front desk of the guidance office swears he flirts with me. But I know he’s not. We’re friends. Good friends. We tease each other to make work a little more fun at best. But that's all it is. A man like Logan Syverson would never look twice at a girl like me. He’s fit and strong and tall and handsome. I’m pretty but I’m short and round and a little too quirky for my own good. Girls like me only get men like him in the movies. And I’m not stupid enough to believe otherwise. Moment’s like these though. I do wonder a little. But I don’t let my thoughts wander too far.
“Oh yeah?” I joke, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I mean maybe you’re our good luck charm. You’ve been at all our home games this year and we haven’t lost a game.” He said with a cheeky smile.
“We’ve only had two Sy.” I say matter of fact. He just shakes his head.
“That doesn’t mean you’re not good luck, but okay,” He held his hands up in defeat. “If you don’t want to do it I’ll figure something out. I messed up and didn’t ask you first. I’ll tell the boys their favorite guidance counselor doesn’t want to come support them. It’ll break their little hearts sugar but I’m sure they’ll find,” He pauses and lets out an exaggerated sigh “Some way to pull through and play a good game of football.” He frowned, shaking his head. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows looking straight at him.
“Are you done?” I deadpanned. He snickered softly and nodded. “Fine, I’ll go,” He smiled and walked over squeezing my shoulder.
“You’re the best! It’s supposed to be chilly! Wear a sweater! And Free coffee,on me all night! I promise,” I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah okay,” I chuckled.
“Seriously, I owe you sugar! I’m happy you’ll be there, I better get goin, class starts soon and I probably shouldn’t be late being that I’m the teacher,” He chuckled.
“Get out of my office Logan!” I laughed. He smiled.
“You’re the best!” He said one more time before finally walking out of my office. I shook my head and tapped at the keys on my keyboard to wake up my computer. I felt eyes on me and looked up to find Jessica standing in my doorway.
“Don’t start!” I warned her.
“Please, sugar. I really want you there!” she mocked. “He knows your coffee order, Alayna. How long are you going to ignore what’s right in front of you?” she asked exasperated.
“It’s not like that Jess, He was just being sweet because he needed the help.” I said.
“Like you wouldn’t have done it anyway. You were trying to play coy but we both know you would have done it anyway.” She laughed. I blushed. And threw an eraser at her.
“Get back to work!” She laughed.
“Whatever you say… Sugar!” I snorted and we both chuckled for a minute. “I mean it Alayna, He’ll be kinda busy during the game and yes you’ll be keeping an eye on the students but take the opportunity to flirt back, he likes you, I’m not wrong!” She turned and walked back to her desk before I had a chance to say anything. And before I could spend any more time thinking about it my email notifications went off pulling me back into my work.
The rest of my work day went by in a blur. I had meeting after meeting with students. My seniors were in panic mode, my juniors have early onset senioritis, and the freshman and sophomores came into vent about the daily woes of high school drama. Oh to be 16 again.
With a full schedule of meetings I barely had time to eat lunch even in my office. When my phone lit up with a group text from two of my girlfriends asking about our weekly Thursday night dinner. I was quick to respond.
(I’ll be there!) I sent the text, before packing up my desk for the evening. It had been a late night for me so it was just past 5. I didn’t bother going home first to change into something more casual. They were used to the office style by now. I felt my shoulders relax a little as I slipped into the booth next to skyler.
“Hey!” she said cheerfully, slowly pushing the glass of white wine they’d ordered for me closer.
“You know me so well!” I smiled at her.
“Long day?” Hayley asked from across the table, she picked up a tortilla chip and filled it with queso. I shrugged.
“Not long in the sense that it was rough, just busy,” Skyler nodded and took a sip for her wine glass.
“I feel that. I tried to get some school work done while the kids were down for a nap.” She runs an in-home daycare. She adores kids. But she’s also going back to school for a degree, Pediatric nursing. She’s a saint. I don’t know how she does it.
“I commend you babe. The school is asking me to take classes, they want someone to take on the position as school psychologist. They’ve been trying to nudge me toward it the past couple of weeks. It’d be a raise but, that on top of the current workload? I don’t wanna drown myself ya know?”
“I totally get it, it’s not easy! But you should think about it. You’ve talked about it before! At least consider it.” Skyler said.
“She’s got a point dude,” Hayley added. “Look at you guys moving up in the world while I’m stuck with an art block. If I can’t think of anything, my online shop isn’t gonna take off and I’ll be stuck at the factory forever!” She groaned and downed a quarter of her strawberry lemonade that was no doubt spiked. I looked sideways, meeting Skyler's eye. She was giving me the same look.
“You’re just getting started Hayley.” Skyler said.
“I know but if..”
“Ah, no buts!” I cut her off “We have to allow ourselves room for mistakes and error when we’re trying something new. You will get there. Give yourself the love you give your art! I don’t wanna hear anymore of that self deprecating bullshit from you! The people love their ghost fish!” I demanded, trying to hide a chuckle. She could be so stubborn! She was starting an online etsy shop for commissions and spreading the word through social media. She had all these fun ideas. She was a great artist. But of course it’s not an easy way to make money. And right now, things were slow. She would get there though! I know she would!
“Have I ever told you how annoying it is when you use your psychoanalysis shit on us?” she deadpanned.
“Everyday but I still do it anyway, and that’s why you love me!” She just laughed.
“Yeah okay buddy. Enough work talk, I lifted a bunch of heavy shit all day and I don’t wanna think about it. I just wanna eat my chips and queso and get drunk with my friends!” She said and scooped another chip through the queso. I laughed and held up my glass
“Cheers to that! Although we all know damn well it’s a Thursday night and we all have to get up early and we drove separately so drunk is relative but yes!” Skyler laughed and clinked her glass with mine.
“Let her have her moment. Cheers to drunk Thursday dinner!” she said.
“Fuck yeah!” Hayley added and added her glass in with ours. We all took a drink and it was quiet for only a second.
“So,” Skyler spoke immediately. “It’s been a week, what's new?”
“Nothing for me, just still considering the offer to go back to school. My job would pay for it. Love life is still dry and I’ve bought like 3 new spicy romance books on my kindle this week!” I said laughing.
“Fun!” Skyler smiled. “Hayley?” She asked and directed her attention across the table.
“I went to Target and spent an obscene amount of money on fall stuff. We have a fall party coming up at work that I volunteered to do face painting for, but that should be fun! Oh there’s this new movie that came out I want you guys to come see with me I was hoping maybe tomorrow night?” she said. I started to agree. But then remembered my conversation with Sy earlier.
“Oh tomorrow night? I can’t. I’m actually busy!” They both looked at me with raised eyebrows.
“Since when are you busy on a friday night?” Hayley asked. Here we go. This is gonna open a whole can of worms. If Jess was good at getting my hopes up about Sy, these two were going to have me down right delusional.
“There’s a football game. I like to support the team.” I said. Skyler snickered and a smirk spread across Hayley’s face.
“You like to support the coach you mean?” Skyler asked.
“That’s not true! I’ve always been a football fan!” I defended myself. Hayley chuckled
“Sure but since when do you go to away games? Isn’t it like 2 hours away?” She raised an eyebrow. I sighed.
“Coach stopped by the office this morning, one of the other teachers that was supposed to chaperone the roadies tomorrow canceled and since he and I are friends he volunteered me to do it. He buttered me up with free coffee this morning and practically begged me to go tomorrow and… I just can’t say no to him. Plus he said he really wants me to be there.” I swirled my wine glass and stared down at it. I knew the looks they were giving me. I heard skyler squeal.
“Shut up! He asked you to come because he wants to spend time with you! Watch, I bet next week he’ll ask you out!” She bounced in her seat.
“He does not! He’s going to be busy with the team! He’s not going to have time to talk to me or anything.” I said taking a big gulp of wine.
“Why else would he say he wants you there though. And clearly you want him to hang out with you. Or you want to hang out with him. Or you wouldn’t have given up your precious Friday night in!” Hayley smirked.
“Okay, so what if I do. He’s not into me like that. He’s just friendly. He’s southern, it's just how he is!” I said, trying to hold onto whatever sanity I had left.
“Really?” Skyler said. “Does he bring anyone else coffee? Ask if he can eat lunch in anyone else’s office?” Hayley but it
“Didn’t he get you a christmas gift last year?” she asked.
“He was my secret santa!” I stated. They both sighed.
“ I don’t know why you can’t see it but he likes you!” Skyler said. I started to object but Hayley cut me off.
“You don’t have to believe us. Just pay attention to how he acts around you tomorrow and the next couple of days. He's trying to make a move. And I know you have your little no coworkers rule,”
“Because if…”
“Ah, I don’t wanna hear it! He’s clearly trying to get your attention. And you work in a public high school it's not like everyone else isn’t hooking up.” She stated.
“She’s got a point, remember all the teachers when we were in school? And he’s not just trying to hook up. He’s playing the long game,” Skyler said. “All we’re saying is IF we’re right,”
“And we are,” Hayley added. Skyler gave her side eye but laughed.
“If he asks you out you should give him a chance. We’ve never met him but it’s clear he’s so into you. And he seems like a great guy. Don’t push him away because something COULD go wrong.” she said. At that point the waiter came up and we placed our order. I also ordered another glass of wine. But a wine buzz wasn’t enough to convince me they were right. Sy couldn’t like me. I wasn’t his type. But it didn’t matter. I will go tomorrow and have a good time watching the game and cheering on the boys and watching Sy in his element. And when it’s all said and done I’ll ride home with the student section and maybe catch the chance to say goodbye to my friend before we leave. And on Monday everything will be as it always has been. Sy and I are friends.
I repeat that to myself as I walk the hall toward the gym after school on Friday. I turned down the hall toward the locker rooms and found his office door open. Sy was leaning back in his desk chair watching the tape from a few weeks ago. He noticed me before I spoke. He paused the video and smiled.
“Hey you! To what do I owe the honor? You never venture down this way?”
“Just coming to double check the plan for tonight! We’re meeting back here at 5:15 and the bus leaves at 5:45?” I asked him. He nodded, running a hand over his beard.
“Yeah, but I was thinking, you got plans for dinner?” He asked and raised an eyebrow.
“Uh I was just gonna run home for dinner, why do you ask?” I leaned against the doorway and crossed my arms over my chest. I watched curiously as he chewed at his bottom lip for a moment.
“I was gonna grab a bite to eat in town before the game. I won’t have time to go all the way home. Do you wanna come with me?” He finally made eye contact with me again and gave me a soft smile.
“Oh um,” I hesitated for a second.
“I’ll buy,” He smirked. I rolled my eyes.
“You don’t have to do that, Sy,” I said softly. He stood up grabbing his keys off the desk.
“I know, I want to.” He smiled and brushed his shoulder against mine as he walked out the door. “Come on, I’ll drive.” I raised an eyebrow
“Driving me to dinner and you’re paying? Sy if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were flirting with me.” the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk and he stopped walking. He turned toward me and bit his lip trying to hold back a grin.
“Alayna,” He chuckled nervously, “I find it hard to believe after all this time…” He was cut off by a loud whistle down the hallway.
“Well ain’t that a cute couple!” a voice said in a horrible mock southern accent “Get it coach!” One of Sy’s boys called from just outside the weight room. Another one of the football players popped his head out the door to see what was going on and started making kissy sounds with his lips. Sy dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head but his shoulders shook when he chuckled, giving him away. He loved those boys he couldn’t be mad if he wanted to be.
“Tyler you’re already on thin ice don’t make me bench you tonight! You too Matt. Don’t think I forgot about the little stunt you pulled in the parking lot last week!” He gave them a stern look
“Sorry coach!” they said in unison
“It was funny though,” Matt mumbled. Sy shook his head
“Sure, You boys get out of here and get something to eat, I don’t need you passing out on me on the field tonight.” He held Matt’s gaze.
“It was one time!” He stressed.
“And it’s only gonna be one if I can help it. Go eat!” He barked. The boys immediately straightened up and nodded.
“Yes coach!” Logan just chuckled and we kept walking.
“They adore you,” I said. He smiled
“Nah, they just know I’m not kidding’” I laughed.
“Oh come on Sy, you aren’t that mean, or you wouldn’t care so much,” We walked out the back door to the teacher parking lot and headed to his truck. “Hey… what were you saying earlier,” He raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about sugar,” He smirked.
“Sure you don’t cowboy,” I rolled my eyes and hopped up into the truck after he unlocked it. He slid in next to me and started the engine.
“Where do you wanna eat?” He looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged.
“Doesn’t matter to me, you’re buying,” I said flatly.
“Sugar,” He threw his arm over the back of the seat, his fingertips brushing my shoulder, as he backed out of the parking spot. He left it there as he pulled out on the road. “Don’t be shy with me, I know you love food darlin. I’ll drive all around town and we’ll starve until you tell me what you want.” I looked over at him just in time to make eye contact before his eyes shifted back toward the road. He shook his head and tried to hide his smirk.
“You are so dramatic,” I teased, trying to play it cool but I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks.
“Oh, I’m dramatic? Weren’t you the one tearing up in her office because of a book you were readin?” He snickered. I reached over and playfully smacked him in the chest.
“Shut up!” I laughed. He held his hand to his chest feigning hurt.
“Ow!” He pouted.
“That did not hurt! I barely hit you!” he side eyed me still pouting but the corners of his mouth started to break into a smile
“Over here committing spousal abuse.” He shook his head. I laughed so hard I snorted.
“We’re not married Sy!”
“You’re my work wife, it's the same damn thing” He chuckled. “Seriously, where do you wanna eat, I’m starving.”
“My god Logan,” I laughed. “Um fine, I haven’t tried that new sushi and ramen place yet!” I said. He almost slammed on the break.
“You haven’t?! That place is right up your alley, all trendy and shit. It’s real good too!”
“You think I’m trendy?” I raised an eyebrow. He looked over for a moment and caught my eye giving me a gentle smile.
“I think you deserve to be taken out to nice places.” And here I was blushing again.
“Sy,” I started but my phone buzzed in my lap distracting me, I wasn’t really sure what to say anyway. It was a group chat with the girls asking me what time we leave tonight. They were going to have a field day with this. And instead of just replying I decided to start a fire. I tapped my screen to open my camera and held it up to take a selfie “Smile, cowboy.” He chuckled.
“What are you doin over there, sugar?” He smirked but glanced over at the camera quickly so I could snap a quick photo.
“Lighting a match.” I smirked. He bit his lip and chuckled softly.
“You’re something else,” He spoke as we pulled into the restaurant. I quickly sent the picture to the group chat and slid my phone into my purse.
Sy was right. This place was incredible. And very trendy.
“God I can’t get over how good this place is!” I said for like the 4th time. Logan smiled.
“I told ya, Darlin,” The waitress came and brought out our bill and I reached for my purse. “Hey, No, I told you, I’m paying.” He said pulling out his wallet and handing his card to the waitress.
“Thank you Sy, I appreciate it,” He grinned.
“Anytime, you deserve it,” I blushed, “ you’re really saving my ass tonight.” I forced a smile, so that’s what this is about. I told the girls this was all just because he needed something.
“It’s no big deal Logan.” I said. I pulled my phone out and checked my messages. There were like 10 from the group chat now.
“OMG YOU'RE WITH HIM?!”
“You didn’t tell us you were getting dinner with him.”
“UNLESS THEIR NOT GETTING DINNER ;)”
“What else would they be….oh”
“Alayna you better not be fucking the football coach right now.”
“Leave her alone Hayley she can fuck him if she wants to BUT IF YOU DO I WANT DETAILS”
“ALAYNAAAAA”
“GIRLLLL ANSWER USSSSS”
“Seriously dude you can’t just send us a picture of you with your hunky football coach man crush and just disappear.”
“OMG THEY’RE TOTALLY FUCKING”
I held back a smile and shook my head.
“It is a big deal,” He said and grabbed my hand across the table. “I’m glad you’re gonna be there tonight.” I smiled but pulled my hand back.
“Sure, because you needed another chaperone.” I joked. His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head catching my eye.
“Yeah, but I wanted it to be you, I like hangin out with you. And you’re really fun to watch in the stands. I didn’t know you could be so…aggressive.” He smirked.
“I’m just really passionate about football!” I argued. “And how do you know you like hanging out with me? We've barely seen each other outside of work.” I questioned.
“Well we should change that,” he said.
“Won’t your girlfriend get jealous?” I asked. I knew a lot about him but he never mentioned any relationship. I’d be stupid to think he wasn’t seeing someone. He laughed. God I loved that sound.
“Don’t have one sugar,” He said with a mischievous grin on his face.
“How?” It was my turn to be confused.
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” He retorted quickly.
“I … because…” I stuttered, unable to come up with an answer.
“Haven’t found the right guy yet huh?” He pauses, “guess that’s where I’m at, she just ain’t found me yet.” He smiled. Right then the waitress came back with his card. “Thanks honey,” He said, giving her his signature smile. He signed the receipt and stood from the table. “We oughta get going. Don’t wanna be late for the game!”
Sy drove us back to the school and parked his truck next to my car. “Oh no!” I sighed.
“What's wrong?” He asked.
“I was going to grab a sweatshirt when I went home and,” I opened my car, turning on the light to look in the back seat. “I don’t have an extra in my car.” I pouted.
“Is that all?” He chuckled. He reached into the back seat of his truck and pulled out a black hoodie. “Here. I always have an extra in the truck you can wear mine. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” I took it from him tentatively.
“Sy, this is your coach sweatshirt.” I said.
“One of ‘em yeah.” He smiled.
“I…okay,” I just shook my head and pulled the hoodie on. He bit his lip.
“Looks good on ya,” He smirked.
“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes. Before we could continue to tease each other the buses pulled up. And I could see some of the students' cars pulling into the student lot “We’d better head over there!” I said quickly. Logan nodded.
“Yeah, we better get going.”
#henry cavill smut#fanfic writing#fanfiction#henry cavill#captain syverson#captain syverson x ofc#henry cavil x reader#captain syverson smut#smut#man of steel#august walker fanfiction#august walker#henry cavill characters#walter marshall#henry cavill imagine#coach syverson#henry cavill x plus size reader#actor smut#henry cavill fluff#masterlist#captain syverson fluff#fluff fanfic#august walker fluff#Mike Hellraiser#Henry cavill mike#charles brandon#charles brandon fanfic#charles brandon smut#henry cavill x ofc
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Fade Me
Older!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
summary: your night is ruined when your date is a no show. maybe the handsome stranger at the end of the bar can fix it.
warnings: slight angst. reader is 30, Eddie is early 40s. Modern au! Reader's date sucks. Eddie is a sweetheart. Fluff. Swearing. Shitty writing and grammar mistakes!!! Not proofread!!!! Also Minors go away, I'm an 18+ blog.
*if I missed anything lmk
a/n: WELCOME TO MY BIRTHDAY BASH EVERYONE!!!!!!! I'm so excited to be celebrating with all of you guys!! This isn't my best work but I think its cute and that's all that matters. Love you all and hope you guys like this <3
Oh, maybe, you could devastate me.
Little lady, come and fade me.
Everything at the moment was pissing you off, setting spark to the last small fuse that sat within you. The pain from sitting on the hard bar stool was shooting pain right to your tailbone, not going away no matter how many times you switch your position. The unforgiving squeeze of the uncomfortable heels radiated pain all over your feet and you knew they would be swollen in the morning. The group of rowdy girls at the back of the bar were shrieking with joy over something you have no idea about, but you did know that you wanted to drag all of them by their scalp and remove them from the bar.
This was stupid, so fucking stupid, and you knew from the very start that it wasn’t going to work. It never does and the next time you see your friends, they aren't going to hear the end of it. Dating sites and dating in general were things you didn’t like to partake in and for good reason.
Out of all your friends, you happened to be the only single one and you were fine with that, but they weren’t. They begged you, since the moment you broke up with your college sweetheart, to get back out into the dating world. It was actually irritating that they cared so much about your relationship status so much, if you were hooking up with anyone, all under the guise of wanting you to be happy. Truthfully they did want you to be happy and they knew you craved having a relationship, but you were pissed and wanted to stew in your own anger.
Well, right now you were everything but happy. In fact you were furious. Furious with yourself, with them, and most importantly your stupid ass date, Luke. After your thirtieth birthday, your friends all but tackled your phone out of your grasp, making you a stupid tinder profile.
“Thirty is the new twenty one, babe,” Dahlia said as she and the two other girls scrolled through pictures to post.
Twenty one your ass, you think, especially with the way you’re fighting a yawn at only nine thirty on a Friday night.
So you gave in, swiped on a few different people who snatched your attention, one of them being Luke. He was handsome, smiling brightly with a bottle of Corona in his hand and a pair of Raybans perched on the bridge of his nose. His bio was simple, straight to the point, and it was the least douchey thing you’ve read while on the app.
After making short conversation, you learned that he was an investment banker, working in the Citibank building downtown. His interests were the same as yours, very shy yet loved to have a good time with friends. The best selling point was his dog, Cali, that could be seen in a few of the other pictures he had.
You were sold, with his witty banter and the fact that he had his life together at thirty two didn’t make the decision hard, especially when all the other people you know that are your age don’t have a solid plan. Which in argument's sake is fine, however you weren’t getting any younger and the want to get married and start a life with someone was getting strong, even though you’d never admit it to your friends.
So that’s why you’re sitting in a swanky bar in downtown Indy, waiting patiently for your date, who happens to be an hour late, in a dress you spent sixty dollars on. It was a pathetic feeling really, putting this much faith into a stranger in the hopes of finding the one. It’s actually why you didn’t want to do it in the first place and why your friends would have to face your wrath when you get home.
The buzzing of your phone on the wooden bar jolts you awake, the wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins making your heart pump erratically.
IMessage
Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand.
With a defeated sigh you turn your phone face down, not having the energy to cuss the asshole out for making you wait so long. Pulling your focus on the bartender, you flag him over and order a martini. Dry martini. Very dry.
When the man places the glass in front of you, he gives you a weak smile as if he knows what’s happening. He probably does know what’s happening, he’s probably seen this happen more times than he’d like to admit and it only adds to your frustration.
Muttering a small thanks, you take a big swig from the crystal glass, letting the liquor burn down your esophagus. It hits your stomach causing an instant burn, more fuel to the fire that’s been shimmering below the surface. The pity you started to feel has now turned into a new found rage.
Quickly picking up your phone, you ignore the burn from the sting of the bright light, and tap on Luke’s text.
Staring at it, you can feel the fire ripping through your body, all the anger and embarrassment you’ve let build up while sitting here coming out as you read his last message.
Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand.
You: That would’ve been awesome to know about an hour ago. Thank you for wasting my Friday night asshole.
Before you can text more insults, a gruff voice interrupts the quick tapping of your acrylic nails on the screen.
“Trust me sweetheart, he’s not worth it.” Pulling your gaze from your phone, you try to find the owner of the voice.
Turning to your right you see him, two seats away from you, tucked away into the corner at the end of the bar. You’re not sure when he got there or if he’s been there the whole time but his presence alone is pissing you off. You’re ready to aim your dagger like tongue at him and tell him to go fuck himself when you take in his appearance.
A plain black tee shirt pulled taunt across his broad chest, tattooed arms squeezed by the material just right. On his hands sits more black ink and nice silver rings, gleaming in the low light of the bar. His hair is brown with a streak or two of salt and pepper mixed in, wisps of hair framing his face from where it fell out of the low bun it’s been pulled into. The crows feet by his eyes are fitting, especially when his dimpled smile is peaking through from where it sits behind his glass of whiskey.
He seems older, at least from the discolored hair and stubble on his chin, but he’s very handsome. Actually he’s hot and if you weren’t so mad right now, you’d be flirting with him. That’s not the case though, not when he has a smug ass smile on his face like he’s all knowing.
“What d’you know?” You bite back, waiting for the handsome stranger to answer. When he takes more than a second to answer, you cock an eyebrow at him like it’s taking him too long.
“I shouldn’t have assumed,” He replies cooly, putting his glass down on the coaster, “Don’t text her, it’s not worth it.” When his eyes meet yours, you can’t help but stop breathing.
Big brown eyes looking right at you, so soft and gentle. You sink into the warmth of his eyes on you, almost letting yourself drift away. But you’re mad and this stranger is the perfect person to let it all out on.
“No they’re not a she, and even if it was you don’t know anything.” You look back down at your phone, tapping away at your keyboard finishing what you had started. When you hear him huff out a laugh, the frown that was on your face before quickly deepens.
“You’re right, sweetheart, I don’t know anything. What I do know is when a pretty girl like yourself has been sitting alone at a bar for longer than an hour and suddenly starts tapping away on that thing, like you are right now, I know she’s been stood up.”
His statement brings you right back out of your phone, willing yourself not to wipe that ‘know it all’ look right off of his pretty face. Your scowl is piercing right through him, hating the way that he could see right through you and yet not having a clue who you were.
“Hey, I’m not judging,” He throws his hands up in surrender, “But I promise, whatever douche made someone as stunning as you, wait in a bar this long for ‘em, doesn’t deserve you. Plus, you’re too pretty to be lookin’ that angry.” He picks his glass up, finishing off the rest before nodding to the bartender for another.
In any other situation you’d be telling them off, yelling at them to get lost, but something about this stranger feels different. You could write it off and say it’s because he’s attractive but in all actuality, it’s because he’s gentle when he says it. His eyes aren’t roaming your body like some pig, hoping to get into your panties by sweet talking to you. It’s like he actually cares about you, the stranger in her pretty dress who has been stood up by her date, like he’s known you his whole life.
Slowly you set your phone down, relaxing the sour look on your face, and you take a deep breath. The last thing you want to do is cry, especially in a bar, and especially in front of the caring hot stranger.
“Is it that obvious?” You ask shyly, picking up your martini glass for another sip. The man shakes his head, moving his posture so that he’s leaning towards you.
“Don’t do that,” he says, “Don’t start thinking down on yourself. Yes it was a little obvious but my suspicion grew more when you didn’t order a drink after sitting at a bar for five minutes.”
The statement makes you laugh wetly when he says it, a single tear escaping your eye causing you to wipe it hoping it’s not noticeable. If he sees it, he doesn’t say anything, instead moving over to the seat next to you.
“Listen, don’t let whatever dickhead person ruin your night. From what I’ve witnessed you’re a pretty badass chick, so whatever frat bro did this to you should be scared.” An inked hand places a white napkin in front of you, a peace offering that you’re quick to take.
“That’s the worst part, he’s not even a frat bro. He’s a finance bro.” When you chance a look up at him, he’s looking right back at you, pearly white teeth staring at you.
In a split second he’s laughing, a deep belly kind of laugh with his head thrown back. As much as you want to defend yourself, tell him that Luke wasn’t your first choice, you can’t. Following suit, you start giggling as well, placing the white napkin to the corner of your eye to collect any unushered tears.
“I gotta tell you sugar, that’s even worse.” The pet name doesn’t get lost on you, heart stuttering the minute it falls from his lips. Trying to pull yourself together, hoping he didn’t see the way you stiffened at the name, you clear your throat.
“Tell me about it,” You playfully roll your eyes, taking a sip of what’s left of your drink.
When you move your sight back over to him, he’s leaning back, dimples showing off, almost like he knows something you don’t. He does know something however, he knows that he has some sort of effect on you, watching you with pink flushing your cheeks and it’s not from the alcohol.
“So,” You break the silence, “Sugar, huh?” You furrow your brows questioningly and it only makes him smile bigger than before.
When he leans forward you catch a whiff of his scent, pine and cedar, musky and smoky. He’s even prettier up close and your eyes are trying to map out every detail of him so that you can remember it when you go to sleep tonight, dreaming of the good looking stranger who made your night better.
“Well, between the softness of your laugh and your scowl that could kill,” his voice is low and husky, saying a secret for only you to hear, “You have a little bit of sugar and spice. Kind of like that cartoon with the badass power wielding girls.”
“Do you mean the PowerPuff Girls?” Cocking your head to the side you laugh, his true age showing in the way that he described the Cartoon Network show.
“I’m showing my true age, huh? Well, in my defense I was fifteen and you probably weren’t born yet.” His crows feet become more defined. Shaking your head, you wave to the bartender for another martini.
“Actually, I was five but you were close enough.” His eyes go wide in shock with your admission. When another glass is placed in front of you, you send a smile to the bartender and he gives you one back.
Looking back at the man next to you, you raise an eyebrow, questioning why he’s so surprised at your age. Blowing out a big breath it seems he’s been holding the whole time, he takes a swig of his own drink.
“Sorry, I just,” he sighs, looking back up at you quizzingly, “wow, you’re really thirty?” Although there’s no malice behind his question, you can’t help but frown at him. He notices and immediately back tracks.
“Fuck, no not like that I just meant,” You wait for him to dig himself a deeper hole. When he finally gets his thoughts together, he looks at you, really looks at you and it makes you want to melt. “Listen, I really didn’t mean it like that, I promise. Honestly, I felt like a perv when I first started talkin’ to you, thinkin’ you were like twenty one. When you said you were thirty, I was just surprised, that’s all. Maybe a little excited knowing I might have a chance.”
You take in what he says to you, how sincere his voice is, and you know he isn’t lying. You don’t want to give in so fast though, you want him to sweat it out a bit. So you take a sip of your drink, your eyebrow still arched in fake annoyance. With an extra shot of courage, you look over at him, fake pout on your red stained lip.
“How can you have a chance when I don’t even know your name?” Your voice is like silk, smooth and soft. The older man clearly likes it, the way a smirk is formed on his pink kissable lips is a clear indicator.
“M’Eddie, Eddie Munson,” He offers you his ringed hand for a handshake, “And you are?” You give him your name and he hums with delight. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You snort loudly at his comment, covering your mouth to stop from any further laughter from falling from your lips. Eddie arches an eyebrow at you, questioning what you found so funny.
“I’m sorry, that was just so corny.” Another giggle slips from you and the cool facade he had crumples, laughing along with you.
“S’pretty bad, huh?’ He scrunches his nose and you think it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Yeah it was bad, who told you that would work?” You take a sip of your martini and look at him from over the rim of your glass.
Chuckling and shaking his head, Eddie rubs his forehead as if he’s stressed. Now he’s the one fumbling and nervous, you got him in the palm of your hand.
“Goodness, it was going so well too.” You continue to tease, the playfulness dripping from your voice. Looking over at you Eddie can’t help but smile, those damn dimples back on display.
“You’re trouble, sugar.” It’s said with the utmost confidence and it has you blushing.
“Oh you haven’t seen anything yet, babe.” It’s an invitation for him to find out and you hope he catches it.
“How about I find out on Sunday over dinner and some drinks? What do you say?” Eddie leans into you when he says it, getting the closest he’s been to you, letting his husky voice fill your ears.
Trying to hide the chill that runs up your back and the excitement that settles in your belly, you lean in just as close. “I’d say you have a date, pretty boy.”
The two of you stay like that for a minute, smiling like giddy teens. Breaking away from the small moment, he pulls his phone out from his pocket, unlocking it and opening up the phone app to type in a new contact.
Handing you the phone, his face seems boyish and giddy, you’re sure if he wasn’t sitting he’d be bouncing on the ball of his feet. Typing in your number, you shyly smile up at him handing back his phone.
“I better hear from you Eddie Munson or finance bro won’t be the only one gettin’ his ass kicked.” Pointing a finger at him, you try your best to look as mean as possible but your plan quickly fails when you see his eyes shining at you.
“Yes ma’am.” Throwing a wink at you, he reaches into his wallet and pulls a crisp hundred out and places it on the bar top. “I’ll be seein’ you soon, sugar.” Wrapping his fingers around yours, he places a kiss to the back of your hand.
The feeling of his lips on your skin makes you ache for more, and the moment it’s gone you wish you can make him do it again. Pulling your lip in between your teeth, you look up at him like he’s hung the stars.
The moment is cut short when the bartender asks Eddie if he wants change. Surprisingly he doesn’t look at the older man with anger for ruining it, instead he gives him a nice smile.
“No Paul, the change is all yours. Also, this beautiful young lady’s drinks are on my tab.” Nodding his head, the bartender thanks Eddie for the generous tip.
Pulling his attention back to you, he cuts you off before you can chastise him for paying. “Let me pay for the pretty girl who made my whole night, it’s the least I can do.”
Rolling your eyes, you try hard to not let him see how flustered you are. When he bids you a goodnight, you can’t help but feel the ache of his absence. The whole time you’re in the Lyft home you think of him, staring out the window and replaying everything in your head.
Once you get home, you sit in silence on the end of your bed, not worrying about the shower you need to take. You can’t believe the luck you had in meeting Eddie and a part of you wants to thank Luke for not showing up.
The ding of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, your heartbeat picking up when you read your screen.
Maybe Eddie: Hey it’s Eddie, just wanted to make sure you got home safe. I wanted to ask if you could thank that loser for not showin up, he really did both of us a favor tonight.
When you read it, you can’t help but giggle a little. Although corny and maybe a little dorky, Eddie had thought the same thing as you and for some reason it sent the butterflies in your tummy on a rampage.
Maybe Eddie: You’re totally laughing at me right now, aren’t you?
Bursting into laughter, your tummy flips in excitement, imagining him blushing on the other side of the phone. Tapping away on your screen, you send him a reply.
You: Oh you know it 😉
You: Thank you for making sure I got home by the way, I appreciate it.
Eddie: I should’ve known. Glad you got home in one piece.
Eddie: Night, sugar. See you Sunday 🖤
Fuck a text, you were going to send Luke a thank you card and maybe some chocolate.
I hope you guys liked this! I can't wait to continue this week with all of you! See you all tomorrow with the next fic :)
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#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x you#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x female reader#honey's birthday bash#honey's holiday celebrations
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A Broken Promise
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!Reader
Requested: Yes/No ~ request
Summary: You had both promised to never take your emotions out on the other. What happens when Jenna has a particularly bad day and snaps. ~ Word Count: 2.112k ~ Warnings: swearing and quite angsty but there is fluff
A/N: Hi!! I’m writing these quite quickly cos I’m really trying to crank these out for you guys so hopefully they r still good. Also my first angst fic!! I hope you guys like it because I personally love some angst and it’s quite fun, and heartbreaking, to write. ANYWAYS I hope you guys enjoy <3
Filming for 8 months in a foreign country was bound to be stressful, but you had no idea how much it would effect your relationship. You and Jenna had been together for over 2 years and before you started dating, you made a promise to each other that you wouldn’t take out your emotions on the other, that you would work through them together and everything would be ok. That promise had lasted flawlessly for the entirety of your relationship. Your relationship was constantly praised by your friends, and the two of you hardly ever fought. It was all going smoothly. Until tonight.
The clock had just struck 10pm when you heard the familiar jingle of keys at the front door. Given that she left early this morning, you were instantly worried by how late it was. As a result, you stood up and walked to the doorway. Entering the apartment with small shuffling steps, her pure exhaustion was plastered across her face as she dropped all of her stuff into a heap on the ground. “Hey” you greeted softly with a soft smile to which you got no response. Instead she walked straight past you, ignoring your entire existence which caused your face to scrunch in confusion.
“Hey is everything ok?” you questioned swiftly following her as she made her way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Mhm” she hummed, still not even looking in your direction. “Jenna? Hey what’s wrong? Talk to me.” you pleaded following her around like a lost dog. “Not now” she responded coldly, causing your face to drop slightly. She had never before ignored you so plainly. Sure she had her moments, so did you, but she would normally search for you when she was in a sour mood. She used to crave your presence, now it seems she can’t stand it. As much as you wanted to fulfill her request of leaving her alone, you made a promise to never let her suffer alone.
You had followed her, pleading for an answer, all the way into the living room where she attempted to relax on the couch, her irritation evident as she harshly bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut in frustration whilst dropping her head. “Jenna. Please.” now kneeling down to match her eye level, you tried to maintain your own composure because at this point her mood was even getting on your nerves. “I said not now!!” she snaps suddenly, looking at you with something you could only describe as hatred. Your face immediately dropped. She had never talked to you like this. Her words burned wholes into your heart as she continued to yell at you. “What don’t you understand about leaving me the fuck alone! I obviously don’t want to talk to you right now so why the fuck are you so goddamn persistent! You are so fucking annoying sometimes. Just… leave me alone” she screams, her voice fading out into a whisper. At this point any hope of keeping your promise had flown out the window. Your heart ached as tears starting to cascade down your cheeks.
“Well if that’s how you feel.” you brokenly whisper, shakily wiping your tears as you get to your feet. You just look at her for a minute, hugging yourself as you hold onto one last piece of hope that she will apologise, or at least look at you with some kind of remorse, yet all she does is just look blankly at the floor, refusing to acknowledge you. “Ok” you breathe as you nod solemnly, tears still pouring down your cheeks, as you walk briskly towards your spare bedroom, closing the door softly behind you.
As she hears the door of the spare bedroom click shut, Jenna audibly sighs, running her fingers through her hair. She felt like utter shit. Not only was filming absolutely exhausting, and completely drained her of any common sense, but she just broke her promise to never take her emotions out on you. ‘What the fuck did I do’ she thought, internally cursing herself for using your own insecurities against you. She knew how conscious you were about being ‘too annoying’ when it came to being around other people, and she had always reassured you that you weren’t annoying in the slightest. And then she said shit like that. She didn’t even have the guts to look you in the eyes when she said it, she couldn’t bare to see the look on your face as she completely crushed you. She knew she had messed up, she just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix it.
As a single tear made its way down her cheek, she hastily wiped it away as she stood up determined to apologise. She scolded herself for crying, she had no right to cry. She was the one who insulted you and made you feel like nothing but a nuisance. As she approached the door to the spare bedroom, she could hear your quiet, muffled sobs, completely shattering her heart. She did this to you. As she reached for the handle, she gently attempted to open the door only to discover that you had locked it.
Taking this as a sign that you wanted nothing to do with her, she sucked in a breath and rested her forehead against the door. “I’m so sorry Y/n” she whispered, her voice breaking as she allows her tears to fall. “Please forgive me. I love you.” she cried quietly. She stayed there for a moment, letting what just happened truly sink in, before she leans back, slowly walking to your normally shared bedroom.
Still dressed in what she wore to set, she headed immediately for your shared walk-in closet. As she walked in she was flooded by your familiar scent, one which typically filled her with warmth, now filling her with dread. Despite this, Jenna immediately looked towards your half of the closet, digging through your clothes until she found her favourite shirt of yours. She brought it up to her face, inhaling your scent as her tears begin to resurface. She strips down to her underwear and throws the shirt on over the top, attempting to fill the void of your presence with your scent.
Once in bed, the hollowness of your side hangs heavy on her heart. Your warm presence that is always in some way touching her, whether its just a finger or its cuddling so tight all either of you feel is each other, is missing and has taken a piece of her heart with it. Despite her numerous attempts to sleep, she couldn’t take her mind off of you, hoping at the least you are also missing her presence as much as she is missing yours. Despite the rogue tears escaping her eyes, she eventually finds sleep.
You awoke as the sun shone through the windows, instantly reminded of the events of last night. The ache of your post-cry headache and lack of your girlfriends warmth was enough to make you want to bury yourself within the covers, never to resurface. You had heard her last night, her attempt to apologise to you. You could hear her crying on the other side of the door, and as much as you wanted to forgive her, no one has ever wounded you so deeply. The one person who normally reassured you that you weren’t too much, that your presence wasn’t a burden, just admitted that it was by screaming it in your face.
Eventually the pounding of your headache caught up to you and you were forced to leave the sanctuary that has become the spare bedroom. Chucking on an old hoodie from the closet, one which you had stored there due to the lack of space in your shared closet, you throw the hood over you head and slowly open the door. You take quiet and hesitant steps towards the kitchen, hoping that if Jenna was around she wouldn’t notice you.
As the kitchen came into view, you immediately noticed Jenna’s figure sat on top of the island, a cup of coffee in hand, wearing your favourite t shirt. ‘Well that’s unfortunate’ you murmur inwardly, your initial plan of completely avoiding her coming crashing down as her eyes glance in your direction. Her posture immediately straightens, her face brightening slightly, as you stride into the kitchen, determined to get what you came for and get the fuck out.
“Hey.” she croaks, her own crying evident in her voice. “Can we talk?”. The words you always prayed would never be spoken between you two, the telltale sign that something had gone wrong. You completely ignored her question as you walked straight past her, her eyes following your every move as you kept your head down and hood on. You swiftly grab a bottle of water from the fridge before moving to the cupboard to grab a snack so you can hopefully avoid coming back.
“Please” she pleaded, her voice breaking as she begged for you to just hear her out. You risk a glance towards her as you were about to return to your self-imprisonment. A glance you quickly regretted. She was hugging herself with an iron grip as her lips trembled and she cried quietly. You always hated seeing her cry, especially if you knew you had caused it. “Just here me out please” she begged in broken words. You sighed audibly before sending her a small nod as you leaned your back against the countertop.
You caught the small look of surprise in her eyes as you agreed to listen, obviously not expecting you to agree to talk to her. “I am so fucking sorry Y/N… I love you so fucking much and… and you deserve the world and I treated you like absolute shit.” She began, starting to sob as she apologised profusely. All you wanted to do was to comfort her but your pride got in the way as you watched her continue to breakdown. “I… I broke our promise and I know… I know how much that meant to you and trust me, it meant a lot to me too.” she paused taking a deep, uneven breath, “I don’t find you annoying you know that. I shouldn’t have said that, I never should have said that, I don’t know why I said that”. Her panicked ranting made your emotionless facade slip, as you felt your own tears threaten to fall. “I just… I just snapped I don’t know. I don’t know why I did that. You didn’t deserve that. But I promise Y/N… I promise you, I will never… never do that again. I love you so much I can’t even fathom hurting you… I hate that I hurt you… please can you forgive me.”
At first you said nothing. You just stood there, looking at her, admiring her, thinking about her. You would be stupid not to forgive her. She was the love of your life, you weren’t going to let her slip away over something so small she obviously regretted deeply. As your tears finally fell, you ducked your head, still remaining silent causing Jenna to panic slightly. “Say something please” she begged in a broken whisper. What you did next caught her off guard. Lifting up your head, tear stains evident on your cheeks, you give her a soft smirk as you push yourself off the counter, approaching her slowly before pulling her into a hug. She instantly melted into the embrace, squeezing her eyes closed as she buries her head into your chest. With one hand around her waist and one cradling her head, you place gentle kisses into her hair, whispering sweet nothings. “It’s ok.” you repeated over and over again, reassuring her that you had in fact forgiven her.
After bathing in each others touch for a few minutes, Jenna gently lifts her head from your chest, tilting her head up to meet you eyes. “I’m so sor…” her breath catches in her throat as she is overcome with emotions, another tear slipping down her cheek. “Hey hey it’s ok” you comfort, gently wiping the tear away. “I love you” she manages to sputter, bringing a small smile to your lips. You gently grasp her chin in your hand, guiding her face up towards you, tilting your head slightly and capturing her lips with yours. Her hands rest on your cheeks as she melts into the kiss, humming in satisfaction against your lips. As your lips slowly part, your hand softly stroking her cheek, you look deeply into your girlfriend’s eyes as you whisper, “I love you too”
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega request#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega x fem reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega angst#jenna ortega fluff#wednesday netflix#wednesday#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams x fem reader#fanfic#simp4wom3n#wednesday addams#netflix wednesday
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Pairing: König x reader
Plot: You’ve been talking to König for a while but when will he make the first move?
A/N: I love this one. I just love it. I hope you love it too.
"Just a little patience"
The first few months of getting to know K were like pulling teeth. He was a very personal and reserved man. The few things he did share with you were that he went by his last name König. He told you K was good if you didn’t want to address him by his last name.
He was from Austria, it was clear from his accent that one night. He told you a little bit about his family, but it wasn't enough.
He was an early bird and usually up at 4am greeting you with a “good morning” and continuing the conversation from the night before. He would send you pictures of the sunrise when he was usually off to the gym to workout. By the time you woke up at 7:30, you had his undivided attention and the conversation would start flowing throughout the day.
He liked Greek mythology, astronomy, dogs, working out, and meditation. He disliked lying, karaoke, and chewing gum. He was in bed by 9pm and by 9:15 he stopped responding.
He told you he worked in the military, and didn't say much about that. The message he wrote was simple,
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m active in the military.” He said.
“Oh, is there a specific job you do?”
“No.”
It was strange but you felt the need to not pry into his job too much. Military was already a sensitive subject in your world, and it didn’t seem like he wanted to elaborate. So you dropped it and moved on.
Another thing you did notice was that he had yet to make the first move. Well, you couldn’t be that tough on him, he did approach you and give you his number after all. But through your back and forth texting, there wasn’t ever any follow up to it. Not a dinner date. Not an invite to his house. Not even a cup of coffee. You felt as if the ball was in his court now since you had texted him and continued to text him every day. A surprising thing though was the conversation never once died out or turned dry.
*
One day after the 3 months of texting, he surprised you with a text that read:
“Will be leaving in a couple of days on a work related matter. I would like to take you out.”
Your stomach dropped. You quickly messaged him back:
“How long will you be leaving? I would love that! Where should we go?”
He messaged back:
“I’ll be gone for about a month.”
A month? What could possibly take that long for him to be gone? Why did he choose now to suddenly get to know you in person after you had been talking back and forth morning and night?
You hesitated. Was this even going to be worth it?
You saw the gray bubbles pop up on the screen and die out. The bubbles popped up again, disappearing again.
You decide to message him back:
“A month seems like a long time.”
“Yes it is, which is why I want to see you in person.”
This was one of the only opportunities you were going to finally see him in person. You caved.
“Okay. What day were you thinking?”
*
The days leading up to your first date were nerve wrecking. He had been pretty cryptic about the whole day. He said you guys were going to have dinner and to dress comfortably. He gave you an address to come to.
The whole thing turned you off.
First, this guy had the nerve to text back and forth with no phone calls, no photos of himself, and he didn’t even have a full name to look him up on social media.
Second, chivalry was dead. He wasn’t picking you up but he told you to come to an address. When you looked up the address it was a house up on a hill.
That’s not strange at all you thought.
Until you kept overthinking this whole ordeal and put the pieces together. Secluded house on top of a hill? He gave you an address to come to? He has no way of tracing anything back to him?
You started to feel sick. Well of course there was a reason he never showed his face late at night… and at the grocery store…. He only ever sent you pictures of skies… were they pictures of how the sky looked when his victims perished that day?
You text him quickly
“Don’t think I can make it on Friday night. Might need to reschedule.”
30 seconds later:
“Oh. I thought you said you had the night available?”
You panicked. You had sounded excited and even told him you had canceled plans to leave work early.
“I think it would be best to reschedule.”
No response. 3 minutes later:
“Is there something wrong?”
You bit your lip. You had to be honest with him.
“I don’t like the idea of going on a date with someone who barely makes an effort to tell me about themselves and now they’re inviting me to an unknown house up in the hills.”
5 minutes pass.
“Would you prefer your house then?”
What was wrong with a PUBLIC PLACE?
You started to feel sketched out about all this.
“Listen König, can’t we meet somewhere public? It isn’t helping me right now that you want to meet me alone in an area with no people surrounding us.”
7 minutes pass.
The bubbles appear and disappear again. Finally, a response.
“I’m sorry. I was thinking of myself. I’ll find something else we can work with.”
You felt relieved. Okay so this guy wasn’t a serial killer… he was actually pretty flexible and understanding. You feel bad now.
Another message sent through to you:
“Observatory. 6pm. Can’t wait to meet you.”
*
The work day had come and gone and you were on your way to the observatory.
You were nervous. The good thing was that you knew he would be able to be spotted within a crowd.
As you parked your car and headed toward the building, you saw him.
He’s standing there dressed up. He’s wearing pants, dress shoes, and of course, a turtleneck above his ears. He’s also got some sort of fabric tucked under his arm and a backpack on. He’s staring up at the top of the building, hands in his pockets. He looks like a statue, but you can see the way his shoulders and chest rise up and down.
Now you felt dumb that you didn’t bother dressing up. You came casually…
Your nerves hit you and you decide to text him.
“I can see you.” Sent.
You watch him from a distance.
He pulls out his phone, you can see his eyebrows rise. He messages back:
“Are you planning on running into me with your cart again? Is this a fair warning from you?”
You smile and you feel your cheeks start to blush.
“Not today, I’m headed towards you.”
No less than 5 seconds after you send it to him he turns in your direction.
You start to feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your entire face. God, did you ever notice the color of his hair? The way his sweater fit so tight around his fit body? His bottom of his face remained covered but his eyes and eyebrows gave away enough.
This was one of the most exciting yet scariest experiences of your life.
“Hi” you stop in front of him with a smile.
“Hi.” You can hear the accent in his voice. You see his ears again get red. He’s attempting to make eye contact with you but you can see he’s staring at the top of your head.
“Come now, we’ve got a small place reserved.”
He takes your hand and leads you behind the building.
The people around there stop and watch him. There are eyes on you both. You hear murmurs and whispers. As he leads you away to a small area surrounded by plants, and in front a skyline of the city. He unwraps a blanket and sets the backpack down.
“You may sit,” he says softly.
You sit on the blanket and watch him. He sits half on the blanket and half on the grass. His legs taking up most of the room in front of him. He unpacks the backpack — a small picnic.
You’re giddy and can’t stop smiling.
“I packed you this,” he says softly. He proceeds to stare forward and has his arms extended behind him.
“Are you not going to eat?” You ask
“I ate earlier. I only packed for you.” He says sheepishly.
You look at the spread before you, he packed cheeses, grapes and pears, two small jars of jam, and a freshly baked bread. It was still warm.
You suddenly feel self conscious.
“You’re not … you’re not going to eat?”
He keeps staring forward but responds,
“I’m sorry I didn’t know what you would like. I made my best assumptions based on your cart at the market.”
You laugh.
“So you were peeking?”
He turns and stares at the top of your head again.
“I did.” He says quietly. “You buy a lot of sweets. Apricot cookies, chocolate wafers, and Oreos.” He turns back.
He speaks again
“I want to be honest with you. The address I sent you was my house. I admit it was a bit forward. I was thinking of myself.”
Well now you feel stupid.
“No, no it just took me off guard.” You bite your lip and proceed “You sometimes give me no context or details.”
He’s still staring off, but you can see his eyebrows pinching together.
“It’s important to be honest. I know. I’m practicing to communicate better.”
You can feel the push inside you, you want to say it, you want to sooooo bad.
“Why did you decide after so long to meet me? I’m kind of upset because if I had known that picnics and sunsets were in the deal, I would've loved to get to meet you in person sooner.”
He’s still staring off in front of him. You can see him inhale and exhale slowly.
“I…” he starts off
“I don’t know how to do these things…” he exhaled
You stare at him.
“I’m new to all of this,” he admits quietly. “I don’t know how to be with another person that I don’t know at all.”
You look at him. He looks defeated, sad, and helpless.
He turns back to you and looks at your eyes but stares back at your forehead.
“But I want to try it with you.” He says finally.
You smile wide and he turns away.
The night crawls over you two, and he starts to pack up. You help him fold the blanket and he walks you to the car.
He stands behind you and you say, “so when will I get to see your face?”
His eyes sort of open wide, but he says calmly
“If you have patience with me…”
He grabs a hold of your hand and places a kiss on it through his turtleneck.
“I promise I’ll be worth your wait.”
#konig x you#konig x y/n#konig x reader#konig#call of duty#konig imagine#konig modern warfare#konig headcanons#konig cod#konig mw2#konig call of duty
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The Apple of His Eye
A peek into the life of the Kennedy household with a gentle cocker spaniel, a nurturing mother, a protective father, and their oh-so-adorable little human.
Original prompt
A/N: OC is the same OC from His Sunshine
---
Leon's eyelids start to flutter at a familiar sound. His tired mind slowly lulls itself back to sleep. A few seconds later, his ears pick up at the same sound. Leon tries to go back to sleep but a loud babble forces his brain to kick his body into high gear. The babbling gets louder and louder.
'Doesn't sound like she's crying.' Leon compromises. If she really needs him or her mother, she will start crying. Finding a rational excuse, Leon sinks himself further into the mattress. Just a few more seconds and Leon will be back in dreamland.
.
.
.
Wrong.
The baby monitor transmits a loud screech, compelling Leon to open his eyes and kick his legs over the edge of the bed. Hhm, that is weird. The other side of the bed is empty. Where are you? The squawking does not give Leon enough time to think.
"Okay. Okay. I'm on my way, bunny." Leon grumbles while shutting the monitor off. The distance from the master bedroom to the nursery is only a couple of feet away. In fact, both rooms are located at the opposite sides of the staircase. The master bedroom is at the left, down a mini-way. The nursery is the door directly to the right of the staircase. Per routine, Leon looks down at the door to see Shiloh tapping her paws against the wooden floor, awaiting her chance to say "good morning" to her little human.
Pushing the door open, Leon gives the medium-sized dog to enter the decorated room. When the DSO agent first encountered BOWs, he never thought that he would get married and have a kid. It was something pre-Raccoon City Leon thought about, but that wishful thinking quickly left the man after the events of '98. It was not until after your one-year wedding anniversary did Leon really started thinking about having kids. He discussed his desire with you which led to some serious baby-making.
Leon never had any experience with babies before Eri was born. He never changed a diaper and he never held a baby. Kids, Leon was comfortable around. They know how to use the bathroom on their own, and they mostly run around all day. The cherry on it all was that Leon would be raising his baby from day one. As soon as that baby popped out of you, Leon would be a father.
Your pregnancy with Eri was relatively easy. You did not experience morning sickness or many aversions to food or cravings. You did get emotional here and there, giving Leon some serious whiplash. Most of the time you were just tired. Leon forbade you from doing field work when you told him you were pregnant. He was even able to convince the president to give Leon domestic cases so he could be closer to you.
After Eri was born, Leon's view of the world permanently changed. As much as Leon hates his job, the moment he held Eri, Leon knew he would be a DSO agent until his late fifties. Maybe early sixties. Why? Leon needs to do everything he can to make sure his little girl can live in a world without the worry of bioterrorism. When you took Eri home, Leon used his connections to up his home's security system.
Changing diapers. Bathing. Changing clothes. Cleaning spit up. Diaper explosions. Late-night feedings and changings. You name it, Leon did it. It was definitely a learning process for him, but you were able to show Leon the ropes. Thank goodness that you had experience with babies. You spent your teenage years babysitting your little cousins, and your older brother and sister have kids of their own. Lord knows the chaos that would have erupted if the both of you were clueless about babies and raising them.
Leon loves fatherhood. His own childhood (at least the parts he remembers) was not a happy one. His parents got into some sketchy stuff with equally sketchy people. Their family was always on the run. Then, Leon was orphaned. Eri is Leon's chance to make up for his childhood. He would be the father he never had. You would be the mother Leon wished he had growing up. The two of you would give Eri the childhood Leon never had.
Shiloh claws at the crib, whining through the wooden bars.
"Calm down, girl. I'll get her in a sec."
The baby stops her crying when she sees her father. Cheeks are free from tears. Leon lightly pinches her chubby cheek. "You little faker." He coos. On most mornings, Eri would whine and fake cry to get her parents' attention. She would always greet them with a mischievous smile that said, "Ha ha, I tricked you. Now pick me up!"
"Morning, bunny." Leon picks his daughter up by her armpits and holds her against his chest. Morning cuddles with his baby girl are one of Leon's favorite ways to start his day. The others are cuddling with his wife and umm...cuddling with his wife. Eri nuzzles against Leon's t-shirt, further messing up her brown hair. Other than her eyes and hair, Eri looks just like you.
After their morning routine, Leon lays Eri down on the changing table. His daughter looks around at the wall beside her and her curious hands try to grab at the garland of stars. With his quick reflexes, Leon stops her.
"Nu-uh. Your mom would yell at me if you pulled that down."
You spent days planning Eri's nursery. A couple of those days were just trying to figure out the theme of it. Leon told you that he did not care, which ended up biting him in the ass. You wanted his opinion, but you forgot that the man is not well-versed in home decor. Eventually, you narrowed your options down to a night sky/starry night theme. Leon never heard about this website called "Etsy" until then. So. Much. Shit. You bought off that place.
You even had your baby shower themed the same to keep things simple. Since most of your family lives in Georgia or the Carolinas, you had the baby shower in Atlanta. The Redfields, Jill, and some of your FBI friends came down to celebrate too. In this entire room, Leon's favorite object is the framed footprints on the wall. You asked your nurse to print Eri's feet on cardstock so you could hang up. Every month since Eri's birth, you and Leon make it a goal to stamp Eri's feet. A cute memorabilia for the two of you.
Clean bum, check. Now Leon needs to feed his baby. Putting her down on the living room carpet, Leon rummages through the fridge. On the second shelf, he sees two plastic-wrapped plates. The bigger plate, his plate has a note on it. It says, "Good morning, handsome. I left for a quick trip to the grocery store. I made you and Eri some breakfast to keep your morning easy. All you need to do is cut up an apple for her. I already fed Shiloh, so don't worry about her. - Sunshine <3"
God, you are amazing. Leon heats up Eri's plate first. Like Leon, she tends to get hangry. After heating the small plate up, Leon sets it aside to let it cool and he takes an apple from the fridge and cuts it into bite-sized pieces (while also getting his "dad tax" in).
'Wait a minute...It's too quiet.'
Putting the pairing knife down, Leon wipes his hands with the kitchen towel and looks for his daughter.
"Eri? Where are you, apple?" Leon peeps from over the couch and his daughter is nowhere to be seen. He calls out to her again. Great. Another game of hide-n-seek. Eri's favorite game to play. If you leave the little girl alone for long enough, Eri will wander off and hide. He blames you for introducing the game to her. You would hide around the house with Eri, waiting for Leon to find you. It was cute until Eri decided to spontaneously play the game by herself when she learned how to crawl. You and Leon had a full-on panic attack when you could not find your daughter.
Both of you have dangerous jobs. Resulting in making dangerous enemies. When you and Leon moved out of your shared apartment to live in a house in the suburbs, the main concern was security. Files on DSO agents and their families are strictly confidential. Even the people who work at the Pentagon have to have a certain level of clearance to access that information. Even Eri's birth certificate is confidential. The only information that is not blocked out is her name, date of birth, and sex.
But, there is always that small chance that someone can find out about your family. When that does happen, Leon wants to be prepared for it. Your home is on a large piece of land in Arlington, Virginia. It is close enough to the city for help to arrive in a reasonable time frame, but far enough to enjoy some well-deserved privacy. With Hunnigan's help, Leon was able to equip his property with a high-tech security system. Cameras, motion detectors, audio recordings, and more. Leon even chalked up some hidden compartments around the house to hold firearms of different kinds.
After twenty minutes of looking, you found Eri asleep under the dining room table. The chairs blocked her from your view. That day, you and Leon did not take your eyes off of her. One of you was always with her to make sure she did not crawl herself into trouble.
"There you are, you bad girl." Leon bends down to drag Eri out of the walk-in pantry. Oh, and Shiloh often hides with Eri. The two of them are partners in crime. "Let's get you something to eat alright? And not give your old dad a heart attack."
By the time Leon finished doing the dishes, you came walking in from the garage door with two arms full of groceries.
"Hey, handsome." You greet while tossing the plastic bags onto the kitchen counter. Leon greets you back with a kiss before helping you put the groceries away. Seeing her mother, Eri squeals in delight. She leans over the tray and makes grabby hands at you.
"Awee! Did my baby miss me?" You pick Eri out of her highchair and smother her with your love. Leon could live in this moment forever. If he had one wish, this would be it. Just him, his daughter, his wife, and his dog at home. No spontaneous calls from work. No investigations. Secretly, Leon takes out his personal phone and snaps a photo of you cuddling with your daughter.
The afternoon comes and it is almost time for Eri's nap. She usually naps for about two hours before being put to bed around eight-thirty. Today has been an easy one, and Leon hopes it stays that way. When the two of you are home, Leon puts Eri to sleep while you make lunch for the two of you. Eri always has an early lunch before she naps and a snack after she wakes up. The two of you found that to be easy considering Eri's tendency to get cranky when hungry. Like father, like daughter.
Leon walks into the kitchen to see you watching something on your phone. A pan is on the stove, sizzling.
"Watcha' watchin'?"
"A video popped up on my YouTube feed. It's about three things this guy learned from raising daughters." You hand the phone to Leon since the lessons are being told from a father's perspective.
When you plate your respective meals, Leon is sitting on the back patio. You find this unusual because he always tells you where he is going (with the exception of some missions). Even if it is somewhere around or in the house. You slide the patio door open.
"Leon? What's wrong, babe?"
He shakes his head. "It's nothing." Leon opens his arms to invite you onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle into Leon's shoulder.
"Did you get another mission?" Your guess is a valid one. Leon almost always gets like this, quiet, when he gets a call from his higher-ups. Your husband hates to leave you and he hates it more when he has to leave his darling apple, but Leon shakes his head "no".
"Is something bothering you then?" Again, Leon shakes his head "No".
Alright, then you will wait for Leon to tell you what is bothering him. Until then, you pull Leon up and bring him to the kitchen. There is no way that you are going to forsake your hard work. His appetite has gone down a little, but Leon knows that if he does not eat, he will not get a chance to without paying the "Eri tax".
Later that night, after Eri is snoozing in her crib, Leon tells you what is bothering him. The last thing the man in the video said hit Leon straight in his heart. The last lesson for dads is to teach their daughters how to shoot. It is Leon's job as a father to be his family's main provider and protector, but there will come a time when Leon will not be there to protect and provide for his family.
As much as Leon tries to rid of the dangers of the world, darkness will always lurk. It will be his job as Eri's father to teach her how to defend herself. To protect herself from the monsters that try to stop her from reaching her full potential in the world. Cause'...someday daddy will not be there to do it for her. Sometime in the night when the baby monitor picks up on Eri's cries, Leon volunteers himself to care for her.
Half-asleep, you hear Leon talking to your daughter. Repeating the same promise he made when she was born. To protect her for as long as he can. Then you hear Leon say, "Did you just pee on my hand?"
In the morning, your family of four go to a nearby park to take a walk. Eri is in her stroller, you pushing the stroller, and Leon is walking Shiloh. This writer has been focusing on the nurturing mother, protective father, and their adorable daughter, but what about the gentle doggo?
Shiloh has always loved people. Cocker spaniels are known to be wonderful family pets and very tolerant of small children. The first day you brought Eri home, Shiloh would not leave her alone. While you were pregnant, the dog would find every opportunity to nuzzle against your stomach. When Eri still slept in the room with you and Leon, Shiloh would sleep at the foot of the bed or next to the bassinet.
Their relationship would only grow as Eri gets bigger. You have a video of Shiloh giving one of her toys to a one-month-old Eri, wanting the baby to play a game of fetch with her. When Eri started eating solid foods, she would purposefully throw a small handful on the ground. Always nearby, Shiloh would lap up whatever Eri was eating. There was one time when you were out of the house, Leon was giving Eri a bath and then Shiloh hopped into the tub.
You used to be Shiloh's best friend, but you gladly gave that position to Eri. They make a cuter pair anyway.
With a household full of girls, Leon is always smothered with love. Before, you and Shiloh would always fight for his attention, and now he has three girls fighting for it. You like to mess with Eri when she gets cuddly with Leon. You would pick Eri up and put her a few feet away from Leon, before running back to him and taking her place. Purposefully, you dramatically nuzzle against Leon and kiss his cheek with a loud "Mwah!"
She only started crawling about a month ago, but Eri is a fast one. She would pop up at her father's feet and cry out to him, demanding that he pick her up. When he does pick her up and place Eri on his lap, she would try with all her might to push you off. If she could talk, Eri would say "My daddy!" Then Shiloh and Eri fight with each other to get Leon's attention. Safe to say that Leon loves the attention he gets from his girls.
Bath time is Eri's favorite. Right behind cuddling with mommy which is right behind cuddling with daddy, which is behind chasing the things that likes to play with her and lick her. Eri loves water. She loves slashing it everywhere. Leon introduced Eri to a water bath toy. It is a whale that lights up and spurts water out of its blow hole. Kind of a double-edged sword because Eri will not let either of you bathe her without that toy.
"That's enough, bunny." Leon begs as he scrunches up his face. Thanks to his baby girl, Leon's chest is all wet. He learned to rid of his shirt whenever he bathes Eri. It is easier to dry himself off without having to deal with a soaked shirt.
Eri dismisses her father's pleas and continues to punch the water. Her dark brown hair is clean and the water droplet on her nose enhances the button-like feature. Eri's eyes are a hazel brown, but if the light hits her irises just right, you can see a swirl of blue in them. You once joked that Eri's charming features would attract all the boys in her class, begging her to be their girlfriend. Leon did not find that funny. He protectively held Eri to his chest and said, "The sons of bitches better know how to shoot then."
Leon's last straw during bath time is when Eri shoves water over the edge of the tub, drowning the tile and soaking the edges of his gym shorts. Leon puts a diaper on Eri and takes the towel-clad baby to her room. Carefully, Leon tosses the clothed baby on your shared bed where you are typing away at your laptop.
"Watch the brat. I've gotta clean up her little mess."
You put your laptop on your bedside table and curl against your baby. You lift her shirt up and blow raspberries against her puggy stomach.
"Did you give your dad a hard time again?" Her little giggles say "yes".
You like to keep a few baby books in your room to keep Eri entertained. You sit up against the headboard and plop your daughter on your lap.
"Guess how much I love you."
Animated, you read the book in different voices and inflections. You use your hands to copy what the hares are doing in the book. At some point, Shiloh lays herself in the middle of the bed where your legs are. When you finish the book, you pull out another one.
"The giving tree."
Before you can read the first page, Leon takes it and climbs into his side of the bed. Minding the sleeping dog, he slides you over to him. Practically squishing Eri between you two.
"Once there was a tree and she loved a little boy..."
The Kennedy family has vital parts to it.
You are the sun that gave life and light to the apple seed, allowing it to sprout into a little tree. Shiloh is the birds and small animals that give the little apple tree companionship. And Leon. Leon is the protector. The one that wards off the pests that try to nip at the little apple tree. The one that fights off the wolves that try to eat the birds and small animals. The one that blows away the clouds that try to cover the sun's rays. Then there is the little apple tree itself. A precious gift of life that should be nurtured and protected.
"And the tree was happy."
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Note: Eri may or may not have been inspired by the Eri in My Hero Academia...Why? Cause she's so darn diggity cute, that's why!
#fanfiction#x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon resident evil#resident evil leon#leon s kennedy#resident evil 5#resident evil#re4#fluff#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon x reader#resident evil 2#resident evil 6#resident evil 4#vendetta#reader inster#resident evil imagine#leon kennedy imagine#resident evil infinite darkness#resident evil vendetta#resident evil death island#re 4 remake#re 2 remake#OC
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mutual 1: sorry the update for my webcomic this week is a bit late! i really had to rush it so it prolly looks really sloppy lol [some of the most sophisticated comic art ive ever seen]
mutual 2: call me uterine lining the way astarions cervix got me bleeding profusely
mutual 3: do you think nanowrimo will give me a posthumous pity publishing deal if i mention it in my suicide note
mutual 4: okay fine i finally started revolutionary girl utena
mutual 5: does columbo know the service he did for butch lesbians. for all of us
mutual 6: wish you were here [blurry picture set of conifer woods in early autumn evening, taken as if frantically running down a winding trail]
mutual 4: im pretty hardy i dont need the trigger list but thanks for looking out for me guys
mutual 7: good morning lovelies another day the wizard tried to best me and another day i successfully locked him in the spare bathroom lol hope u like drinking shampoo fucker
mutual 8: here is a zip of every yuri manga scan i have and here is a backup in case i get dcma'd. the himejoshi lifestyle will never die
mutual 9: i wish i could go back in time to the shinzo abe assassination and ask to hold the doohickey
mutual 10: here's my essay on how wanting to be loved is the same as wanting to be eaten. three paragraphs in you'll find out that this is 100% tied to an obscure beauty and the beast manga i've been reading lately and how much i want to fuck the beast
mutual 4: oh thats why there was the trigger list.
mutual 11: YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN THIS BATHROOM FOREVER
mutual 12: why do i have to defend my thesis to people i dont even respect. im not dickriding you just give me the degree
mutual 13: its just me and this scab ive picked into my scalp against the world
mutual 14: my little dragon got glazed and is ready to go into the kiln! everyone wish him good luck!
mutual 3: nvm i am a beautiful genius. perhaps the most beautiful genius of all
mutual 15: i think we should give david lynch rpgmaker and whatever happens happens
mutual 16: kpeyboaatrds brpokem gpuys
mutual 17: also heres my work in progress glossary of mixtec words! i still have a long way to go but i love being able to preserve my roots even in this small way
mutual 4: i just finished the black rose arc. question: what
mutual 18: i need emet-selch to be my wife
mutual 19: i need glados to be my husband
mutual 20: visited the ocean today!!! <3 beach pics!!! there is a darkness growing within me
mutual 21: the forms for my legal name change came in. pls vote in this poll of what my middle name should be: Dill Pickle (Dickle for short), Optimus Prime, Tumblr User Gorgonicteratologist, Smeve
mutual 22: just finished my 100th book of the year! this weeks read was the uses of enchantment by the psychologist bruno bettelheim,
mutual 23: reeses penis butter cups lol
mutual 4: i need to hunt akio for sport
mutual 24: oouugghhrgh. hot. dog.
mutual 25: your favorite character or fictional other would want you to brush your teeth and wash your face so you're well rested and wake up feeling refreshed! make them proud!
mutual 26: being a delivery driver isnt the worst job ive ever had but i do keep wondering what itd be like to drive off into the wild blue yonder one day and not come back
mutual 27: weird dog? [phone picture of critically endangered stork]
mutual 28: i think the two phone line polls in front of my house are having a lovers tryst. no way to prove it tho
mutual 4: WHAT
mutual 29: while you bitches are balduring your gates or finalling those fantasies im doing what a REAL gamer does. playing a b tier rpg that came out in 2004 for the 18th time
mutual 30: ^ real. hamtaro ham ham heartbreak is a masterpiece of interactive art. im not even going to call it a video game at this point
mutual 4: THAT'S HOW IT ENDS?! ANTHY?
mutual 31: can you help me pick which drawing looks better: 34% overlay or 36% soft light?
mutual 32: new video essay out. its called disability in video game narratives: final fantasy 14's most reliable fault. i churned the script out over an all-nighter and my mic crapped out halfway through but by god i did it
mutual 33: my new zine bundle is out! if you buy it you also get a discount on all my game jam games! i really cant wait for you to play them!
mutual 4: yall should watch revolutionary girl utena
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My Girl - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Tagging: @words-and-seeds @cosmic-psychickitty @@xoxabs88xox @hardballoonlove @dempy
It’s late when Jake turns up outside your house, far too late for him to be visiting but he can tell you’re up from the light in the hallway. He imagines you running through your usual routine, checking the locks before you head to bed, Cujo, the Belgian Malinois at your heels walking his nightly patrol with his partner. He got back in just over an hour ago and usually he would have spent the night in his quarters, turning up early the next morning with coffee and bagels before your shift but then he’d heard the scuttlebutt.
There’s been a drugs raid while he’s been gone, it had been triggered after a Ensign had O.Ded on Fentanyl last month. He hadn’t realised you were part of the investigation because you hadn’t told him. He gets it, there’s stuff he can’t talk about either. It’s why the relationship works as well as it does, the two of you have a level of understanding you can’t get with a civilian.
When he’d heard that a female Master At Arms from the K9 division had taken a hit during the shut down of the operation he’d felt his heart stop in his chest. There are four K9 officers and the other three are male. He knows that it was you.
“Woman, please just open the door.” He mutters as he raps his knuckles against it for the third time.
He knows the need to be here, to see you is irrational, but he’d called, and your phone was switched off, something you always do when it gets past ten because it helps you destress before bed. He knocks even louder, pausing only when he sees your shadow in glass panelling.
“Jesus Jake,” You utter as you open the front door. “Are you trying to wake up the whole neighbourhood?”
He’s dressed in his civvies, clothes that have hastily been thrown on before he’s headed off base. You can see how tired he is from the slight shadowing underneath his eyes. You realise he must have come straight off the carrier because the scent of the sea still clings to his skin. You’re dressed for bed, in a vest top and leggings, an oversized pair of his socks on your feet because you always get a little cold. His gaze lingers on the black bruise that’s blossomed across your chest; it sits like a starburst just underneath your collarbone spreading across the curve of your left breast. It was close he summarises, damn close. He can see the burn in the centre where the heat from the bullet seared your skin through the Kevlar.
Cujo appears beside of you, his wet nose already probing Jake’s clenched fist for treats. He snuffles at it until Jake exhales and splays his palm, allowing the dog to scent him before Cujo huffs in displeasure, retreating back to your side.
“He’s been a little protective since it happened.” You say as you open the door a little wider and gesture for him to come in.
He steps inside, closing the door behind him before he crouches down to fuss over your canine companion.
“Good boy Cuj,” Jake says as he scratches the space behind Cujo’s ears that makes his tail wag. “Looking after her while I’m away.”
You roll your eyes as Cujo showers him with doggie kisses, because he loves Jake almost as much as he loves you. You think it’s the regiment of treats and play that Jake adheres to whenever he comes over.
“I know you don’t need looking after.” Jake states as he jerks his head away to avoid his face being licked. “But it’s good to know that this one has your back.”
You place your hand on his shoulder, your thumb skirting over the space on the nape of his neck, the one that you know soothes him just a little.
“I’m ok.” You tell him. “A little sore but otherwise I’m good.”
He raises to his feet, his hands coming to rest upon your hips as he lingers in your proximity. Everything else falls away in that moment, you can see the concern in his eyes, the relief. He knows that shit happens while he’s away and he knows that you can handle it, but he hates that he isn’t there for you sometimes. You would never chastise him for that, but he still feels it acutely.
“I just had to see for myself.” He whispers as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “I just need to be here right now with my girl.”
Love Hangman? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
#top gun hangman#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#hangman x reader#top gun maverick#hangman seresin#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman x you#jake hangman fic#hangman imagine#hangman x you#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you
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If you are up to it, could you write the prompth
❛ is that my shirt? ❜ for Aegon? It would allso fit modern!Aegon.
Morden!Aegon it is! Seeing as I rarely give myself the opportunity to do so. (Ngl this was shit.)
Summary: with most of the family out of the house, Aegon decides that now would be the best time to bring you over.
“Where are they?” Aegon whined, refusing to look at his phone like he had for the past fifth teen minutes, bringing both of his hands to rub away at tiredness within his eyes before letting them drop to be bedding below. Earlier that morning he had been told that he would be having the house to himself for the night. Upon asking why, Alicent told him that herself and Heleana has been invited by Rhaenyra, Baela and Rhaena for a girls night out whilst Aemond had a paper to work on at the public library. This information only told Aegon that none of them would be back until really late or within the early hours of the next day.
At first he was ecstatic with the potential prospects that came with being home alone. He could throw a party, walk about stark naked, whip out his secret weed stash and get high, TP Aemond’s room; The realm of possibilities were endless for Aegon. However when he tried talking Cregan and his nephew Jace into coming over to play games with him. The pair declined, stating that their respective teams had a big game going on that night and that they had already made plans with one another to head to the gym beforehand to get some last minute reps in. Disheartened by the turn of events, Aegon reached out to one last person whom he knew wouldn’t let him down; you.
So when a knock came from the front door Aegon had already bolted out of his bed and down the grand staircase, stopping only to quickly check his appearance in the mirror they had in the foyer, before unlocking the door to usher you inside. “Are you ready to partake in the most banger sleepover ever?” Aegon asked impatiently, eyeing the shoulder bag you had brought as you took off your shoes by the shoe rack, fearing of tracking mud or muck onto the pristine and rigorously polished floors. “Aegon, we’ve had many so called ‘banger’ sleepovers before, how is this going to be any different?” You asked as he slung an arm over your shoulders pressing you into his side, “my sweet, sweet y/n. The difference this time is (a) we’re all alone,” he wiggled his brows suggestively at you only to girlishly squeal when you lightly pinched his side, causing him to flinch away from your side momentarily before continuing.
“(B) we’re alone-“ “you said that twice now- where is everyone?” You cut him off as you tried waiting it out for someone else to appear out of the blue. Normally whenever you came to hang out at Aegon’s, Alicent would be in the bar room, Aemond would either be in the living room or his own private library, mostly reading and Heleana would be in the backyard playing with the dogs or making notes of the plethora of butterfly species that would come visit. The house never felt as spacious as it did with just you and Aegon it almost made you feel small, minuscule even so much so it unnerved you. “I didn’t tell you?” The eldest sibling inquired almost innocently as you shot him a glare. Aegon sighed, knowing that he was partially to blame for being quite vague in his demands for you to hang out, “Mom, Heleana and Aemond are out for the night and…I didn’t want to be alone.”
Aegon could see in your eyes what you were about to ask next and before you could be given a chance to vocalise it, he beaten you to the punch. “Now before you say it, yes I did ask the gym twins but they got their a stupid games tonight. You were the only option I had left…Sorry if that makes me uncool or whatever.” He finished also ashamedly, avoiding your eyes in favour of the money Alicent has left sat on the counter in the case he should get hungry during the night, she took into extreme consideration of the fact her son couldn’t cook for shit, even with a cookbook to guide him; She just didn’t feel like having to deal with the house being set ablaze all because Aegon wanted macaroni and cheese for dinner. You smiled sweetly upon seeing Aegon’s softer, more vulnerable side; He was already quite an emotive man, who was prone to crying out of frustration of his own emotions, but to see him in his natural environment with his guard down made him all the more sweeter in your eyes.
You reached out to grasp his hand in your own, relishing in the warmth it emitted as you squeezed it in means to comfort him. “You could never be uncool to me Aegon,” you reassured him, watching as his pretty doe lilac eyes met your own from underneath his lashes, “now let’s have ourselves the coolest sleeper over ever, yeah?” Just like that Aegon was back to being his normal self as his smile brightly beamed mischievously and his eyes glimmer cheekily under the fluorescent lights. “Hell yeah.” He responded as he swiped the money off of the counter and dragged you up the grand staircase to his room with state of the art LED lights that bathed the room in a deep royal blue.
You’ve been in his room many times before in the past but your eyes never seemed to get use to the colour lighting he chose, you wouldn’t have been able to make out a thing had the glare of his mounted tv not been there to illuminate the unnecessarily large king sided bed pressed up against the left wall; Nor the scattered clothes and other things that littered the floor. “You did happen to bring sleepwear with you, didn’t you?” Aegon asked as he rummaged through his bedsheets, victoriously pull out the remote he was searching for and brings up Nextflix. Whilst he was doing that you rummaged through your bag to find that you had exclusively brought only next day clothes; This technicality wasn’t your fault as you weren’t expecting to be asked to sleepover so late in the night.
To make up for your shortcomings, “Yeah. Got ‘em right here.” You replied as you quickly snatched one of Aegon’s shirt and sleep shorts off of the floor, though not before giving them a quick sniff to make sure that they were clean. “Good, go change in the bathroom whilst I search for a movie for us to watch.” Without needing to be told twice you made your way to bathroom, locking it behind you just incase Aegon got a little cheeky to then removing your clothes and into his grey sleep shorts -which you found were a little big but thank fuck for the existence of drawstrings- and his greyish blue shirt. “You ready yet?!” Aegon yelled from his room, cussing you to flinch slightly at the unexpectedness. “Yeah, yeah I’m ready calm your tits!” You exclaimed, picking up your clothes from the toilet seat, shoving them in your bag.
Aegon made sure to pause the movie of choice just as it was about to get into it’s opening sequence, when he heard you exit from the bathroom and what he saw when you came into his peripherals had the beginnings of a smirk cross his lips. “Is that my shirt? And are those my sleep shorts?” He inquired playfully as you looked down at the captain America; Civil War shirt you were wearing and shrugged. Aegon didn’t need you to tell him anything for he already pieces together everything in his head, which didn’t help his inflated ego anymore then it did make it obnoxiously bigger. His smirk widened as he hopped off the bed to get a closer look at you in his clothes.
“You didn’t have any sleepwear did you?” He asked rhetorically, “So instead of admitting to it, you stole mine and playing it off as though you did. Babe if all you wanted was to wear my clothes, just say so. After all,” his eyes looked you up and down, biting down on his lower lip, “I’m not complaining.” He practically purred which caused a flush of heat to flood your entire body. Which only got made more worse when the platinum haired male got into your personal space and tugged at your (read: his) shirt so you would be chest to chest with him. “Are we gonna watch the movie you spent such a dedicated amount of time searching for? Or are we just going stand here in hopes that something will happen.” You asked, feeding off of the tension building between the two of you. Aegon raises his brows, “I don’t know? Which one do you prefer sweetheart?” He asked in faux innocence as his face edged closer to your own as he whispers, “No need to worry about there being a time limit, we’ve got all night after all.”
#hotd fluff#hotd fic#hotd x you#hotd x reader#hotd imagine#hotd imagines#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon x you#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon imagines#Aegon x reader#Aegon imagines#Aegon imagine#Aegon fanfic#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii x reader#Aegon ii imagines#Aegon ii imagine#aegon x you#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen imagine#aegon targaryen x reader#hotd modern au#Aegon targaryen imagines#Aegon ii targaryen imagines#Aegon ii targaryen imagine#aegon ii targaryen fanfic
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"Sonic vs. Tails - The Ultimate April Fools Battle"
AO3 link if you'd rather read it there ;)
6:38 a.m.
Early on a Monday morning, Sonic awoke to a rocking sensation. For a moment it was nice, soothing even, and he thought perhaps he'd fallen asleep on a hammock or something.
Except, it was in fact not soft fabric beneath him, but wooden boards.
A faint smell of salt alerted him next. Then a strong gust of wind. Then the cry of a seagull.
A seagull?!
His eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, panic immediately flooding his chest upon seeing a huge mass of water all around him. He found himself sitting in a wooden fishing boat, smack dab in the middle of it.
He jumped up to his feet with a squeak of true fear, wobbling as the rocking of the boat nearly made him lose his balance.
He raced to the pole where the sails were attached and jumped onto it, full-body clinging to it with both arms and legs. "HOW IN MOBIUS DID I GET OUT HERE?!" he yelled indignantly, as loudly as he could for having just woken up.
A snicker sounded above him, and he jerked his head up so fast he nearly got whiplash.
And whom should he see perched atop the sails post but his little brother, Tails, his namesakes waving around and mischief practically written all over his face.
"Happy April Fools," the smug little fox greeted him, still giggling.
Sonic relaxed slightly, but shot Tails a feigned death glare. "It's on," he shot back, unable to hide a smirk.
-
8:23 a.m.
He had to be subtle about this. Tails was obviously very well aware what day it was. He had to be sly.
So, for his first prank of many, Sonic ran out to buy a cheap whoopie cushion, then slipped it in the Tornado's cockpit, at a perfect angle so Tails wouldn't see it until it was too late.
He was pretty proud of himself for keeping it cool, going on runs and swinging back by the workshop every few minutes to see when Tails needed to go out for a flight.
Except it was taking too long.
If he didn't get that over with, all his time to come up with more pranks for the day would be gone. And that simply wouldn't do.
"Hey, Tails!" he called from the roof, where he'd been leisurely lounging for the past five minutes. "Wanna go for a shopping run?"
After a pause of silence filled only with the sound of some metal clanging, Tails called back, "For what? I thought we were stocked."
"No, we need more— flour." He quickly improvised, having not actually checked the pantry beforehand.
"Why do we need more flour?" Tails sounded both distracted and confused as he continued whatever he was clanging around with.
"Because bread." Sonic flipped onto the ground and leaned his head through the window. "We should make bread."
Tails finally pulled back his goggles and shot him a look. "Why do you want to make bread?"
"Don't question it, Tails! Why can't I be allowed to wanna try new stuff?"
"Because it's April Fools, that's why." Tails smirked and pulled his goggles back down, studying the chunks of metal he was abusing. "There's probably a prank waiting for me at the store or something."
Sonic clasped a hand to his chest dramatically. "You seriously think I went and sabotaged public property just to pull a prank on you?!"
Without missing a beat, and without shifting his eyes from his work, Tails replied, "Yeah."
Sonic huffed and crossed his arms. "Well, I didn't. And the only way for you to see that is to come on shopping with me. I'll even let you pick the store so that you can be sure."
Tails looked at him, arching a brow and resting one hand on his hip. "You're so random," he said, shaking his head with a grin. "You realize you can go shopping by yourself, right?"
"Well, sue me for wanting to spend time with my darling little brother," Sonic pouted, trying his best to pull off a puppy-dog-eyes look.
"Since when did you become so clingy?" Tails laughed, finally setting aside his things and flying over to the window.
Finally!
"It was inevitable. You're too loveable." Sonic yanked him into a hug, right before letting him start flying towards the Tornado.
"I don't know whether to feel touched or suspici—" Tails abruptly broke off as he hopped into the cockpit, and the whoopie cushion immediately squeezed beneath him, filling the air with its awful sounds.
His face went beet red for a moment, then he closed his eyes and sighed. Sonic had already fallen over laughing, tears springing to his eyes at Tails's expression.
"Bread, huh?" Tails sounded way too calm as he turned to face his brother, but there was a terrifying glint in his eyes.
"You bet!" Sonic laughed. "Come on, what are you waiting for? Let's go get flour!"
Tails picked up the whoopie cushion and hurled it full force at the hedgehog's face.
-
8:52 a.m.
After the whoopie cushion incident, Tails forced Sonic to go out shopping anyway. He even managed to trick him into thinking he was doing it as an apology.
Oh, was that poor hedgehog mistaken. He was so in for it. Tails had sent him out shopping— alone— so he could set up his revenge prank.
He decided to go with a simple one. Perhaps he would save the more intricate and wild pranks for later in the day.
This one would still be personal, though.
Barely suppressing a little cackle of glee, Tails snatched a large bottle of clear super glue and generously poured it all over the welcome mat at his front door. This glue wouldn't fully dry for another twenty to thirty minutes, and since Sonic was only getting one thing from the store, he wouldn't take nearly that long.
Sure enough, five minutes after he'd laid the prank, he heard the distinct BOOM in the distance of his brother's impending arrival.
Tails already knew Sonic wasn't going to notice the glue. If it wasn't immediately obvious, and he wasn't in danger, he didn't pay attention to detail like that.
The door handle jiggled for a moment, then was followed by a banging on the door. His muffled voice called, "Tails, if you're gonna send me out to buy stuff we don't actually need, the least you could do is leave the door unlocked for me to actually give you the stuff we don't need."
"Oh, dear chaos!" Tails called back, deliberately sounding way too dramatically surprised. "How did the door lock itself?!"
It didn't matter if Sonic caught on. If he was banging on the door, it was too late for him.
"I don't like your tone, young man." Sonic definitely sounded suspicious, and Tails could barely suppress his triumphant laughter.
"Sorry, Dad." With a snicker, he unlocked the door and swept it open, where he found Sonic standing with a hefty bag of flour, shooting him a look.
He was standing right in the middle of the super glue puddle.
"Seriously, bro? Locking me outside? That's the best you g-GAAUHH!" Sonic broke off as he tried to take a step forward, only to pull the entire doormat up with his foot and lose his balance. He tried desperately to right himself, but only ended up pinwheeling his arms, losing his grip on the bag of flour, and falling square on his chest. A second later, the bag of flour came down on his head and immediately popped open upon pricking his quills.
After the flour dust settled, the two brothers looked at each other for a solid ten seconds, the younger standing tall with his arms crossed and a smug smile, the older slumped on the ground, covered in flour to the point of looking like a ghost, glaring daggers.
He sneezed. "That was low. I like my kicks."
"They'll be fine," Tails insisted, brushing off the flour that had drifted into his fur. "I've got a solution that'll cancel out the glue."
Sonic shook himself off, then stood up and sneezed again. "You owe me twenty rings for the waste of perfectly good flour that we didn't need."
Tails stuck his tongue out at him, then started blowing the spilled flour out the door with his tails.
-
9:35 a.m.
Sonic took a shower after the flour incident, and he made it quick enough so that Tails didn't have any time to try anything more on him, since he was still cleaning up said flour.
Once he'd gotten out and dried off, Tails brushed past him into the bathroom, and a few seconds later he heard the shower start up again.
No way there was this golden opportunity just dangling in front of him . . .
Grinning, Sonic first went to the kitchen and hit the switch for the power hose. Next time Tails went to wash the dishes, he was in for a little surprise.
Then, very quietly, he nudged the door open to the bathroom (where Tails was still in the shower), reached in, and flushed the toilet.
A second later, there was a high pitched "Yipe!" and one very startled, very wet fox kit scrambled out of the tub at the suddenly freezing water.
Sonic heard his name screeched furiously from over his shoulder as he laughed and booked it for the front door, only to catch on the doormat and faceplant the sidewalk, his socks now stuck in the super glue still coating the mat.
-
10:14 a.m.
He deserved this fate, Tails claimed.
"It's called revenge!" Sonic yelled through the door from where he lay on the ground outside in the yard. "Sweet, totally fair, revenge! Can I have the anti solution for the glue now?"
"Nope," Tails called back.
"C'moooon. These are my last clean socks, I can't just take them off and put on dirty ones. Do you want me to defile the house with smelly feet?"
"Ohh, manipulation. That's a new one!"
"Tails!"
"Just wear flipflops. Or go barefoot. I dunno."
"I don't like flip flops!" Sonic squirmed onto his side. "And I don't like being barefoot! Running barefoot is painful!"
"Ah, well. Guess you'd better apologize for ruining my lovely shower and forfeit all your desserts to me for the next three months, if you ever want to run again."
"Sorry, who was being manipulative?"
"You were!"
Sonic huffed. "You know, I could just do laundry. Yeah. Do laundry and be free."
"Wow!" Tails sounded way too amazed. "That's so genius!"
"I'll wash all my socks! I'll wash all the socks!" With caution, Sonic forced his way back onto his feet, then hopped inside the house, doormat still attached. "I'll be free in a matter of . . . hours." He frowned. "Hey Tails, can dish soap clean clothes? And how fast does a fur dryer dry clothes?"
Tails was standing in the kitchen, pouring the remains of the flour that hadn't touched the floor into a canister. He eyed his brother for a moment, then smiled sweetly. "There's one way to find out."
Without thinking, Sonic broke into a relieved grin and started hopping his way into the kitchen. "Good, because if I have to be stuck like this for one—"
He turned the faucet on, and immediately a powerful spray of cold water shot out at his face from the power hose. He yelped and sputtered, immediately switching it off as he suddenly realized he'd fallen for his own prank.
Or, more likely, Tails had seen right through his prank, and had made him fall for it.
Sonic looked down at him, water dripping down his face and off his quills. Tails had lost his cool composure and was doubled over, squeaking with laughter.
-
10:30 a.m.
"I deserved that one," Sonic grumbled, toweling off his face.
Tails sat beside him on the porch, eyes closed in smug contentment as he brushed out his tails. "Yes. You did."
Sonic turned and grinned devilishly. "You realize this isn't over, lil bro."
Tails turned a fanged smile right back on him. "Far from it."
-
11:04 a.m.
Sonic burst through Amy's door and immediately said, "Ames, I need a favor!"
Amy nearly jumped out of her skin, dropping her paintbrush onto the carpet. She sighed, but picked it up without complaining, set it on the ledge of her painter's stand, and gave him her attention. "What's up?"
"Sorry for that," he said quickly, then added, "Could you make a batch of chocolate chip cookies, but like, make three of them with raisins instead?"
Amy wrinkled her forehead even as she smiled. "Wait, what? Why?"
"It's April Fools. I need to get back at Tails."
"Oh, no." Amy laughed as she stood up and started heading for her kitchen. "What'd he do?"
"Oh, many things." As Amy set to making the cookies, he told her all about the events of the day so far. He told her about the pranks on both sides, just to keep it fair.
Amy was aware of their April Fools traditions. The same basic thing had happened the past two years as well.
It had been last year that they learned the hard way not to prank Knuckles. Or Shadow.
"You should really learn to bake," Amy commented as she eventually pulled the batch out of the oven. "It's really very fun! And satisfying."
"You know what'll be satisfying?" He snickered. "The look on Tails's face when he thinks he's gonna taste chocolate and tastes raisins instead!"
Amy shook her head with an amused sigh. "That too, I guess."
They hung out together for another twenty minutes or so, then Sonic bid her farewell and took off back to the workshop.
-
12:22 p.m.
Tails had resumed working on whatever project he'd been doing earlier that morning.
"Yo, Tails!" Sonic raced into the room, holding the container of cookies. "Amy made us cookies!"
"Ooh, she did?" Tails immediately paused what he was doing and lit up, but then suspicion clouded his face. "Wait . . . what's going on?"
"Bro, it's just cookies," Sonic laughed. "What, do you think they're poisoned?"
Tails kept hesitating, but Sonic could see him scenting the air. Since the majority of them were chocolate chip, he was detecting that— not the few raisins.
"Okay. I'll take one," he finally relented, and Sonic handed him one with raisins.
He started heading back to his project as he took a bite, but immediately stopped in his tracks. Sonic watched him stop chewing and look at the cookie for a long moment, then turn and shoot him a deadpan look.
"You're so mean," he complained, mouth still full with the bite he refused to swallow (he hated raisins). Then he tried to spit it out onto Sonic, who yelped and raced away, dropping the container of cookies on the floor.
Tails picked it up, having already figured out that most of the others were actually chocolate chip. Jokes on Sonic, now he had all the good cookies to himself.
-
1:01 p.m.
Their prank fest had delayed lunch a bit, so Sonic (after eventually returning) told Tails to kick back and relax while he made chili.
Tails seemed a little too pleased with the idea, but Sonic barely noticed, too hungry to care.
As he stirred through the pot, Tails watched him, grinning in anticipation for the meal. Earlier, while Sonic had been lying around the front yard with the doormat glued to his socks and complaining, Tails had switched out the salt and sugar.
Half an hour later or so, they sat down together to eat. It seemed Sonic thought they had reached a temporary truce, but oh, little did he know.
Tails deliberately took his sweet time in spooning the chili onto his hot dog, eyeing his brother in his corner vision. Sonic had made his in no time, digging in with two big bites before Tails had even finished dressing his.
Almost immediately Sonic paused, blinked a couple times, then kept chewing. Then paused again, frowning.
His eyes flicked to Tails, who quickly resumed dressing his chili dog.
Sonic finally swallowed. "That's weird."
"What's weird?" Tails asked innocently, actually being subtle this time.
"Chili tastes more like dessert." The hedgehog squinted at him. "Did you sabotage the chili cans?"
Tails sniffed. "How dare you accuse me."
"Did you?"
"No, I didn't. The cans were sealed, weren't they?"
"Hm." Sonic took another hesitant bite, but stopped again, shaking his head. "This tastes so weird. Have you tried yours?"
Tails shrugged. "Try salting it," he suggested, avoiding the question.
Sonic grabbed the salt shaker and generously covered his chili dog with its contents, then took another bite, only to actually choke over it this time.
"Okay, did you—?!" He snatched the shaker again, shook a little onto his finger, tasted it, then chucked it at Tails, who laughed and dove out of the way. "You switched the salt and sugar?!"
"Well, duh!" Tails switched to hovering over the table, snickering. "There are no truces today, dearest brother!"
Sonic threw the too-sweet chili dog at him next, inevitably splattering chili over the table.
"You're cleaning that up!" Tails called in a singsong voice. "I'm going out to Josef's Pasta Alla Paccico!"
"OH, NO YOU DON'T!"
-
2:10 p.m.
They both ended up eating out at Josef's, and even though they did truly call a ceasefire for a grand total of twenty-five minutes, they split the time between actually eating and blowing their straw wrappers at people, having mini sword fights with the butter knives, and constructing architecture with the plates and takeout boxes.
Needless to say, the only reason they didn't get kicked out was probably because both Sonic and Tails were practically world-renowned.
Not long after they returned to the workshop, Sonic inevitably crashed for a nap. He usually couldn't make it through a day without a nap at some point, which was always unfortunate for him on this particular day of the year.
Tails studied him where he slept, on a branch of the tree in his front yard. He knew he'd been the last one to pull something, but hey, who said they were taking turns?
There was simply no way he was passing this up.
First, he grabbed a sharpie and very carefully drew an elaborate mustache worthy of Eggman across his brother's face. He added a few random smiley faces on his cheek and arms, as well as the phrase "SLO-MO" on one shoulder.
Then he grabbed an assortment of potato chips and began carefully stacking them on his head, in his hands, on his stomach, in an entire tower.
He made sure to take pictures through the whole process, then— leaving him there to sleep, still covered in sharpie and potato chips— flew off to print the photos.
Going above and beyond, he put the printed photos in a fancy envelope, marked them as "priority mail," addressed them to Sonic's post office box, disguised himself, then dropped them off at the post office.
An hour passed after he had done all that, and Sonic finally stirred awake.
Upon seeing the stack of chips in front of him, he promptly fell out of the tree with a yelp, and Tails started giggling.
"What did you do to me?" Sonic whined, brushing all the crumbs off his head and chest as he stood up, still groggy.
"You think that's bad?" Tails teased. "Go check the mirror."
A look of horror filled his brother's eyes, then he was gone in a flash. Tails kept giggling, and laughed harder when he heard the yell from inside: "WHY DID YOU MAKE ME LOOK LIKE EGGFACE?!"
"It's called revenge!" Tails called back gleefully. "Sweet, totally fair, revenge!"
Sonic came storming back outside. "How dare you use my own words against me."
"Sorry," Tails told him insincerely.
His brother scrubbed at his cheek. "How long will it take for this to wash off?"
Tails shrugged. "A couple days, probably."
Sonic's resulting screech was loud enough to startle away all the nearby flickies.
-
4:32 p.m.
Sonic spent at least half an hour in the bathroom desperately trying to scrub the marker out of his fur, but only succeeded in making it fade a little.
"Taking advantage of my sleep cycle," he huffed, reaching out to mess up Tails's bangs from where the fox kit sat on the couch. "So rude."
Tails tried to fix his bangs, while Sonic flopped onto the other end of the couch. "Consider it payback for you dyeing my fur green last year."
"You still looked cool, at least!" Sonic protested. "If Egghead sees me like this, I'm never going to hear the end of it."
"I looked like a lime!" Tails shot back. "I had to hide from society for an entire month!"
"It wasn't a month."
"Three and a half weeks. Close enough."
"Mm."
Tails shot him a look, and Sonic reached over to mess up his bangs again. He was rewarded with a throw pillow to the face.
Sonic threw it back, and it was just about to escalate into a fully fledged pillow fight when the doorbell rang.
Both of them froze, and Sonic zipped away in a flash. "I'm not here! You don't know me! If anyone asks, I'm in Holoska on a nice, arctic vacation!"
"Chicken!" Tails taunted after him, then flew over to the door and pulled it open to find Amy and Knuckles standing on the other side.
(Thankfully, the super glue had dried hours before.)
"Hey, guys!" he greeted them, stepping back to let them in. "What's the occasion?"
Amy said sweetly, "We just wanted to make sure you and Sonic were doing okay!" at the same time Knuckles said, "We came to supervise."
Tails rolled his eyes. "We don't need babysitters."
Amy glanced around. "Did Sonic leave?"
Knuckles frowned as Tails snickered. "I guess he did. He's telling everyone he's going to Holoska."
"You can't stop me!" Sonic's muffled voice shouted from somewhere towards the back of the workshop.
"Nobody's trying!" Tails called back, his voice catching on a laugh. "Just be sure to warn Jari-Pekka about your new look!"
"New look?" Knuckles echoed.
Amy facepalmed. "What did you do to him?"
Tails waved a hand flippantly. "It'll come off in a few days."
"And this is why we thought you two needed supervision," Knuckles groaned. "Today always gets out of hand."
"Do we need to separate you two?" Amy asked, although she was grinning.
Sonic chose that moment to burst explosively out of the closet, zip to his brother's side, and pull him close in a protective hug. "No, don't separate us!" he insisted, forcing a huge smile. "Everything's going just fine!"
Knuckles and Amy took a solid ten seconds to stare at Tails's artwork all over Sonic's face, then started laughing, albeit good-naturedly.
Tails grinned at where he was still trapped in his brother's hold, only to start violently trying to squirm away when said brother slipped a sharpie out of hiding and started drawing his revenge on the fox's face.
-
6:00 p.m.
Knuckles and Amy chose to spend the rest of the day at the workshop with them, just to make sure things didn't get any crazier than they already had. By the time dinnertime arrived, both Sonic and Tails had sharpie all over their faces, although the "art" on Tails's face could hardly be called as such. Because of his squirming during the whole process, it was nothing more than random scribbles of blue in random places on his face.
"Next year I'll dye you blue," Sonic promised him as the four of them had dinner together (after Amy switched back the salt and sugar). "We can match!"
"Pass." Tails swallowed his bite. "I'll just look like some kind of mutant smurf."
Sonic snickered. "All the more reason to do it, then!"
Amy groaned. "Boys . . ."
"Hey, we should rope you into this!" Sonic exclaimed suddenly, staring straight at Amy.
"If you want a hammer to the face next, feel free!" Amy stuck her tongue out at him, although she had to hide a giggle.
"As long as you leave me out of it, do whatever you want," Knuckles put in wearily, sounding much like a parent tired of trying to control his children.
Tails smiled at all of them. Knuckles was right; this day was always crazy, and sure, things got out of hand sometimes. But he had no regrets. It was fun. It was a stupid way of bonding with his brother, and that was something he would never regret.
A Happy April Fools Day, indeed.
#happy april fools!#april fools fic#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#sth#miles tails prower#sonic and tails#unbreakable bond#they're brothers your honor#fic#sonic and tails fic#prank war#prank wars#brothers#shenanigans from start to finish#amy rose#knuckles the echidna#siblings#fluff#my fic#my writing#will rb this on Wednesday as well#april fools#long oneshot#long post#?#funny#silly boys#also on ao3#will be on wattpad eventually
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hiii im not sure if you take reqs and you can ignore this if you want but i rlly love how u write the proxies!! ^__^ may i req for hcs of them in a poly relationship with reader? like who fell first, how they came to terms with being poly and etc
thx anon ! sorry for getting to ur request so late. i'd love to write for this. hope u enjoy :,) this is a oneshot cause i didn't know how to start this one up i kinda just kept writinggg lol
----
ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION — proxies
cw, } gn!reader (they and them prns used), drinking, a little suggestive, mention of murder, why choose?
summary , } going out to the bar for a quick drink was not supposed to lead to this...
When you were first "chosen" as one of Slenderman's proxies, it was, undeniably, significantly overwhelming. Not only being introduced to one entity that you would be working for but several others that you were working and living with... yeah... a bit nerve-wracking.
Toby was incredibly welcoming, having been in the same situation as you when he arrived at the mansion for the first time. He undoubtedly found you attractive, but he would never willingly admit it. That was until...
The proxies were all tired and after one of their missions decided to visit the local bar for a quick drink. At this point, you were well acquainted with one another and the boys even felt comfortable taking their masks off around you when going into public spaces.
The dark sky was cloudy and the wind nipped aggressively at your skin as the four of you stepped into a small bar on the outskirts of a town in which you were unaware of the name.
Masky, or rather Tim, as he told you to call him in public, showed the group to a booth sitting in the back corner of the pub. Even through the blaring country music playing on an old jukebox, you could hear Toby grumble a soft complaint about the melodies playing from the machine, causing Hoodie, who told you to call him Brian, to send a glare toward Toby at the insult but ultimately say nothing. Hoodie-- Brian-- wasn't a man of many words, you found.
When you all finally found your seats at the booth that Tim had so gracefully picked out, he ordered a round of beers for all four of you.
Several rounds later, evidently, you and Toby were the only ones not drunk. Toby didn't like drinking-- he mentioned something about his father being an alcoholic-- and you knew you guys would need someone with a proper license and driving knowledge to be able to drive you all back to the cabin you were staying in when the time came to leave.
Tim pulled out a cigarette to smoke despite the 'no smoking' sign hanging near the front entrance of the building, but none of the employees nor the other patrons of the establishment seemed to care or even notice.
"It might be time to move on. It's getting late and we need to get up early tomorrow morning so we can make it back at a decent time," You reasoned, and Toby nodded, staring into your eyes intently as you spoke. Masky grumbled.
"Awww-- you're no fun," He slurred, setting down his half-drunken pint of beer and taking another drag of his cigarette. His eyes met yours, similar to Toby's. "Don't be such a saint. I'm sure you can have fun sometimes."
You caught yourself blushing at Tim's dumb innuendo, but you huffed and crossed your arms, avoiding eye contact.
"So cute when you pout. Wish you'd just be mine."
Everything seemed to pause for a split second when Tim spoke those words. Even Brian's drunken head seemed to move to the side to stare at his best friend when he let those words slip loose. Toby's jaw practically hit the table his elbows were resting on.
Through all of these reactions, Tim looked unbothered. He snuffed his cigarette out on the table and shrugged.
"What? Y'all are looking at me like I just murdered your grandma's dog."
"Do you really mean that, Tim?" You ask, overcome with confusion and desire to know if he was being honest.
"Do I take you as the type to bullshit?"
Everyone at the booth paused, at a loss for words. Tim was right-- he often said what he meant when he felt it-- even at the risk of other's feelings.
"M-Masky--" Toby babbled.
"Tim." He corrected.
"Y-You can't feel th-that way about th-them. Th-they're m-mine," Toby admits, making your mouth open with shock before Brian moves to speak.
"I feel the same way about them."
"Wait-- do you guys all like me-- like that?" You question, at an utter loss for words. All three of the boys nod in unison.
"Well-- who do you choose, angel?" Masky questions, all of the boys on the edge of their seats and eager to hear your most anticipated answer.
"Who says you can't share me?"
#americantfootball .#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#hoodie x reader#creepypasta fluff#proxies#proxies x reader#proxies x y/n#ticci toby x you#masky x you#hoodie x you
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anotha one because holy fuck this man makes me feral.
era: 1968-early ‘69
-
John has been inside our bedroom for at least 2 hours, practicing the same song over and over again. The only song he actually cares about, that is. John has about completely given up on the band, but he at least there’s some energy. One thing to know about John, however, is that he HATES being interrupted. Even by his wife. But, you’ve been craving his touch for weeks, he’s hardly paid any mind, so why not take a risk?
Once you mustered up the courage, and by mustering up you put on a short, skimpy, night gown John had bought you for your second wedding anniversary and some black, see through tights. You slowly, but surely walked up to the door. It took you a good thirty seconds to actually open the door. John didn’t even look at you when you opened the door, to see you standing by the doorway barely covered.
“Johnny, please, it’s been forever. I want you.” You whimpered, too scared to be too loud.
“Y/n… What have I told you at least a thousand times? I’m working, not the time.” John warns, looking back at me. You could see on his face that a blush appeared, he bit his lip, staring you down his down like a predator finding it’s prey.
“But please, John. I promise just one time and you can go back to-“ you was quickly cut off by John nearly slamming his guitar to the ground and getting off of your shared bed to come up and grab you by the chin.
“You just don’t like listening, do you? Been a lot more bitchy lately cuz I haven’t been bedding you. Now you’re just gonna have to take whatever I fucking give you. Do you hear me, girl?” John reprimanded. You felt the heat between your legs beginning to drool and throb. This was gonna be rough, but it’s something.
John grabbed you and threw you onto the bed, you could hear the ruffling of clothes as John unbuckled his belt and undid his purple button up.
“Hands and knees. Now.” John growled, his voice was low and domineering. You actually felt, afraid in way. But it just turned you on. You never saw John like this, and you couldn’t help but like it. You instantly got up on your hands and knees, your head resting against the plush pillow underneath you. He ripped your tights down to your thighs, exposing your bottom half to him.
“You do not understand the amount of stress I’m under right now. The last thing I need is my ever so loving wife to act like a fucking dog in heat.” Johns voice got louder. Without warning, John smacked his belt against your lower half, causing you to cry out.
“John, please. ‘M wanna help you.” You murmured. John looked at you, amazed. You would really do anything for him if it means you got stuffed full of his cock, or if it made him feel better. He really won the jackpot by finding you.
“You wanna help me, baby? Well, I suppose you can. But I’m warning you now, I’m not going easy on ye. So if you need to smack me or tell to me to stop, please do.” He said, quite softly. The softness didn’t last long however, he brought he belt back to your ass again. Your cunt was glistening, wetness pooling down your thighs, aching for him.
“Holy fuck, you like this, y/n? You like how I’m marking your little ass? Huh? Your cunts crying for me.” John chuckled. You put this man in pure disbelief. You make it so hard for him to stay mad at you.
After about six more lashes from his belt, your ass was completely red and bruised. There was definitely gonna be a mark or two (or three) in the morning. Your thighs were shaking, you could feel tears wanting to escape your eyes, but you loved it. Honestly, this was so much better than just regular love making. John took his cock out of his boxers and teased you with it. You were so drenched that your wetness was pooling onto the bedsheets below. Johns mouth literally felt like watering. You were fighting the urge to grind back on him, trying to get him to go inside.
“Almost forgot, baby. Need to stretch ya out.” John mumbled under his breath. He put two fingers into your drooling cunt without warning. Your sighs turned into cries as he scissored you fast and quick. Your heart was pounding, you felt like you were on cloud nine. The pleasure was unbearable.
“Fuck, such a good little girl, you are. Taking everything I give you. My obedient little whore. I fucking love it.” John praised. The praises made you moan louder, the squelching noises from your cunt more than audible.
“John, fuck, please, please.” You begged. Your voice pathetically hoarse from your cries.
“Gonna need more convincing than that. That’s pathetic.” John said. You cried out again when his fingers continually hit your sweet spot.
“John please fuck me. I need you so badly, I’ll be so good please. ‘M so wet for you.” You begged. God, it was dirty, so pathetic. But oh my god. You loved it so much. John almost burst when he heard you beg. He swore it was the hottest thing he had ever heard in his life. John spent no time thrusting his whole length inside you. Giving you no time to adjust.
You screamed at the intrusion. John pounded you like it was last fuck on earth. All the stress from the rehearsals and the rocky friendship with Paul gone away. All he could think about was making his good girl cum. (And himself, duh). You were so, so good to him.
“Yeah, that feel good, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Lemme hear how good I fuck you.” John demanded. If you weren’t already screaming the house down, you sure as hell were now. Johns cock hit all the right places inside you. But, fuck. He was relentless.
“J-john, s-slow down!” You yelled out. John slapped your ass in response, causing you to cry out.
“You can take it, baby. I know you can. Come on, fucking take it.” John grunted. You turned to look at him. He looked fucking mesmerizing. Sweat was all down his chest and all over his face, his long hair stuck to his forehead and messy. He was biting his lip and he gotten rid of his glasses. He looked like a god.
You felt yourself getting closer and closer to your sweet release. John caught you staring and gave you a smirk and playful slap to your ass, causing you to gasp. You attempted to look away but John grabbed you once again and flipped you over, so you were underneath him. He pulled you down and pinned your arms above your head, and continued to pound into you. Your thighs and poor cunt started to get sore from the rough treatment, but you can’t say you were complaining in the slightest.
“J-john, I-I-“ you panted. You couldn’t even properly form words anymore. John was fucking you way too good, to the point of being brainless.
“Aw, can’t speak, baby? Is Johnny fucking you too good? Huh? Wanna cum? My angel wants to cum?” John cooed. His hand caressing your cheek as he kissed your forehead. Even if this started because he undeniably pissed, he still couldn’t help but fawn over his beautiful girl. All his.
All you could do was nod. John was thinking about teasing you a bit more and edging you, but you’ve done way too good for him. It just wouldn’t be fair.
“Come on, y/n. Cum for me. Fuck.” John moaned. The squelching sound from your cunt intensified, and you felt an even more overpowering feeling than just a “regular” orgasm. Your weak cries turned into screams as you squirted all onto Johns cock and bedsheets. John stopped his thrusting and watched. Not only was he shocked, he was internally proud of himself.
“What a good fucking girl. Look at that.” John whispered in awe. You were trembling and had tears running down your face, your mascara was staining your cheeks. It pulled at Johns heartstrings. He felt awful now.
“Y/n…Are you okay? Honey, I’m sorry. I’ll clean you up.” Before he could get up and grab a towel, you quickly grabbed his arm.
“No, need you to cum in me. Please. ‘M wanna make you feel good.” You begged weakly. John was taken aback, but smirked as he pinned back to the bed, his hand lightly grasping your neck as he began to pound himself inside you again. You ached as you felt so overstimulated, but you wanted him to get his release. He deserved one too.
“Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum. Just wait a little longer baby.” He grunted. His grunts becoming louder and his pants increasing. He was fucking hot. John let out a strangled moan as he filled you up to the brim. He slowly let his weight fall on top of you. His hair fell to each side of your face.
“T-thank you.” You whisper to him. John looks up, smiling sweetly. He slowly pulls out of you and looks at his cum dripping from your abused cunt.
“Honey, really. If I hurt you, I’m sorry. You’re so precious to me. I hope you know that.” John said with genuine sympathy. You grasped his hand and nuzzled into his chest.
“No, please. Let’s do that more often.”
Needless to say, John took note of that.
-
Needless to say, i let out some steam and some sexual frustration in this so uhm enjoy HAHSHS.
#classic rock#classic rock imagines#george harrison#john lennon#paul mccartney#ringo starr#the beatles#the beatles x reader#60s#john lennon x reader#john lennon smut
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