#its been quiet! sowwy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenimmadolla · 4 months

Note

its maisie again

girl you arent getting any sleep ever cos on me

younger penny and wayne being in an absolute mood with reader because they saw her cheating on daddy…with santa claus 🎅

𝐈 𝐒𝐚𝐰 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬

(dad!eddie x mom!reader)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst and fluff, mentions of infidelity (no cheating), misunderstandings, implied sexual activity, hurt and a lot of comforting.

𝐚/𝐧: this started off as a little drabble and got way too long because, i dont know, i love them. nonetheless, i hope you all enjoy reading this. and as always, reblogs are appreciated and let me know how you all liked it (if you didn't, simply move on). merry christmas and happy holidays to you and your families! ♡ ♡ ♡

wc: 7.5k

“Penny…Penny…”

Your little girl stirred in her bed, a small groan escaping her.

“Penny, wake up!” Came another hurried whisper and finally the seven year old squinted her eyes open. She was scowling as she pushed herself up on her elbow, a fist rubbing her eye and pushing the curls out of her face.

“What?” She snapped at her little brother, the toddler perched on her bed next to her. He didn’t look remotely apologetic or sheepish for venturing into her room and disturbing her from her slumber. No, he looked nervous, clenching his tiny hands to his pajama covered chest.

He didn’t answer her right away, shifting uncomfortably in place with his big eyes on her akin to a puppy who had knocked over a vase and was now begging for sympathy.

Penny knew her brother needed a little more prompting so she sighed and sat up, hands in her lap.

“What is it, Waynie?”

He was quiet for a few more moments. Then, “....Sowwy.”

She also knew he hadn’t woken her up for no reason, “It’s okay. Did you have a bad dream?”

Wayne shook his head, short curls tossling.

“Nuh uh. I hadta go peepees so I gotted up and afta, I hud mommy in the kishen–”

“She was probably washing dishes, Waynie.”

Wayne shook his head again, this time with more urgency, “No, Penny! Mommy was talkin to Santa.”

Penny sat up straighter, any lingering sleep withering away as she became instantly alert and concerned. “Santa?”

Wayne nodded slowly in confirmation.

“But–But it’s too early!” Christmas wasn’t until next week, “What is he doing here? Does he make special visits? Are we in trouble?”

Penny let out a small gasp after the last question, horrified at the thought of Santa Claus coming to their home to tell their mommy and daddy how naughty they’d been.

But–but they hadn’t been! Penny had been a good girl!!!! . . . Mostly. And Wayne, too! But from the way Wayne was looking at her, he also must have had his doubts.

“What were they saying?” She demanded and he held up both of his hands and shrugged his shoulders up to his ears.

“I dunno! I camta waked you up.”

Well, Penny was going to get her answers. She flung her blanket off and hopped out of bed in her nightgown while Wayne climbed down after her, snug-footed covered feet landing on the carpet.

“C’mon,” she encouraged as she quietly padded over to her door and slowly turned the knob, holding her breath as she pulled the door open. When it didn’t creak, Penny let out a sigh of relief and crept out of her bedroom, down the hall with her little brother toddling after her.

Her eyes nearly flew right out of their sockets when she poked her head around the corner to see her mommy and Santa Clause standing in the middle of the living room, right by their christmas tree!

She hid against the wall, turning her head to gape at her brother who had a look of I told you so on his face.

They both peered around the corner once more to get another look at the scene, spy. Santa’s back was to them, but they could see their mommy’s face. She was smiling and had her fingers pressed to her mouth.

“Are you sure it looks okay?” Santa asked you, and you nodded, eyes roving over him.

“It looks great–much better than last years. I’m glad we tossed that one.”

“Is it, though? Because I still feel stupid.”

Then, to your children’s surprise, you wrapped your arms around Santa’s shoulders. And if that surprised them, then Santa placing his hands on your waist to pull you even closer should’ve sent them into shock. You only did that with their daddy!

“Well, I don’t think you look stupid. In fact, I find the whole thing kind of…hot. Coming down the chimney, leaving presents that’ll have those kids smiling for weeks, doing this to make them happy–it’s all so very attractive.”

“In that case, Santa’s not here just to make the kids happy.”

Penny and Wayne did not like the way Santa said that. Not one bit. It got worse.

“I think you should save that talk for Mrs.Claus, Santa.” But you were looking up at him through your lashes, a coy smile on your lips.

“What Mrs.Claus doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.”

Then Santa pulled you in, white gloved hand moving to cup the back of your head as you kissed him.

If your kids were shocked when you and Santa displayed affection, Penny and Wayne were ready to faint as you kissed Santa Claus!

Penny knew she had to get Wayne out of there, trying to quietly usher him back to his room but the toddler accidentally hit his elbow into the wall.

“Did you hear that?”

Penny and Wayne made a run for the nearest bedroom, Wayne’s. They scrambled under the blankets, settling and shutting their eyes just as the door opened, casting the yellow hue of hallway light into the room. They kept their breathing even as steps neared.

“Why is Penny in here with him?”

“He must have had a bad dream, he gets her sometimes. I’ve found them asleep in her bed a few times before.”

“Oh, that’s cute as shit.”

“I know–wait, get out of here. One of them might wake up and see you!” They heard their mommy hiss.

“Oh, crap!” Then heavy footsteps retreating from Wayne’s room just before their mommy’s loving touch tucked them in. Penny felt her press a kiss to her forehead before she could tell her mommy was leaning over her fake sleeping body to kiss Waynie, too.

Then your soft footsteps retreated and the door was quietly shut.

Wayne, the amateur, quickly turned to Penny and tried to talk but Penny shushed him and remained still for a few minutes. When she was sure her mommy wouldn’t be coming back, she spoke.

“Oh my goodness.”

“Bad wuds.” Wayne whispered, thinking of the swear jar on the kitchen table. And he couldn’t even go get it and have Santa put a dollar inside.

“Santa’s potty mouth is the last thing we gotta worry about.” Penny whispered back, staring up at the glow in the dark star covered ceiling as she replayed the image of her mommy kissing Santa Claus.

“Whudabout daddy?” Wayne asked, turning onto his side to face his big sister, little hand pressed between his pillow and his cheek.

Penny came to a grim realization, “We gotta tell ‘im.”

The next morning, when your kids came into the bedroom to wake you, they didn’t jump on the bed and lacked their normal enthusiasm.

Penny simply shook Eddie’s arm until he stirred, which pulled you out of your own sleep as you were laying on his chest.

“Good morning,” he rasped out, squinting through one eye at them with a smile.

Their reply were quiet mumblings of good morning. And when you leaned over Eddie, beaming at your babies, they didn’t smile back.

“How’d you guys sleep?” You asked, conjuring up the image of your babies cuddled up in your toddler’s new big boy bed. You’d wanted to fall to your knees and coo over how cute they were.

“Okay.” Then Penny just walked out of the room while Wayne lingered, watching her go before his eyes nervously returned to the two of you, who now looked confused.

“Hungwy.” Was all he said before he hurried after his sister.

When they were gone you pushed yourself off of Eddie and got out of the bed.

“That was weird, right?”

Eddie nodded mid-yawn, “She’s probably just tired still. You know how grumpy she gets when she doesn’t get enough sleep.”

“Takes after you.” You teased, just barely dodging a pillow tossed your way as you walked towards the bathroom, “Hey!”

After quickly washing up, and whacking Eddie awake with the pillow he’d thrown at you when you’d come out of the bathroom to find he’d fallen back asleep, you got started on breakfast.

Normally, your kids would be in the kitchen eager to help you, but Penny and Wayne remained perched on the couch, watching Looney Tunes cartoons.

“Is it a funny episode?” You called from the kitchen as you pulled the eggs from the fridge.

“They’re always funny.” Penny’s answer was blunt, she didn’t take her eyes off the TV.

“I’m not too fond of the earlier re-runs, never really found them all that funny until Bugs Bunny stopped looking weird.” You stated, trying to keep the conversation going. Maybe once you got them going, they’d come to be your little helpers.

No such luck.

They remained quiet until Eddie came striding out of the bedroom. The TV was all but abandoned as they jumped him with squeals of daddy.

Eddie bent over so Penny could climb onto his back while Wayne tried to swing and hang from his arm.

“I missed you, daddy.” Penny stated, arms wrapping around his neck from behind and she nuzzled her head against his.

“You missed me?” Eddie’s grin was clouded in confusion. He’d been a way for a solid week, three weeks ago. Corroded Coffin had opened up for some band they didn’t care for (and probably wouldn’t be associating with again, if the fight Gareth had with the guitarist was any indication).

But he’d been back since then.

“Yeah, I missed you a lot. Even Waynie did–huh, Waynie?”

Wayne didn’t reply, too focused on trying to hang onto his dad’s arm without falling. Eddie gently lowered him until his covered feet met the ground, and Penny was next.

With his legs back on solid matter, Wayne’s attention shifted to you. He ran over laughing, last night’s events

forgotten, due to a short attention span, while he wrapped his arms around your legs, chin resting on your legs with his head angled up at you.

That beaming little face warmed you right up. You abandoned the pancake mix to pick him up and he nestled against you, arms around your shoulders and legs wrapped along your rib cage.

“There’s my little love bug.” You sighed out in content, giving him a gentle squeeze. Your son giggled and tried to squeeze you right back so you entertained him, pretending to choke at the strength he didn’t possess which only made him laugh harder before you shifted him onto your hip–a mission in itself with how heavy your baby was getting.

“You wanna help me make breakfast?”

“Yeah!” He chirped enthusiastically. You turned your head to Penny who looked away a fraction of a second too late. With a harrumph, she stalked back towards the couch and didn’t spare either you or Eddie a second glance.

The two of you shared a confused look before Wayne was demanding your attention. He pointed at a wooden spoon on the counter and grunted.

“The spoon?” You asked, hand hovering over it as you waited for his confirmation. Wayne was getting better at words, but he still hadn’t mastered them very well. More often than not, he only spoke full sentences when he felt pressured to and sometimes that was too much for him, made him nervous. It was something you were working with him on and you’d noticed he spoke easier around certain people, namely Penny and his namesake, his grandpa Wayne (though to be fair, he and big Wayne didn’t talk much, just vibed in peaceful silence together, having to exchange very few words to understand each other).

He didn’t respond right away, just brought his fingers up to his mouth and stared at the spoon so you jostled him softly to bring him out of his head and it worked. Wayne grinned at you and nodded his head so you picked the wooden spoon up and handed it to him only for him to grab it and hold it out to his dad, practically stretching right out of your arms to do so.

Eddie gasped, closing the distance to take the spoon and his son right out of your arms.

“Are you telling me to get to work?” He asked, eyes narrowing at the toddler. Wayne laughed around his fingers, head bobbing as he nodded and Eddie let out a playful growl, lowering his head until his temple was pressed against his son’s.

Wayne didn’t find his dad remotely scary, not even a little intimidating. He only laughed harder with it trailing into a joyful sigh. The toddler pressed his forehead firmly against his dad’s to call his bluff.

Eddie gave in immediately, head falling back as he sighed in defeat before perking up, “Fine. You win. Again.”

Wayne was practically glowing with how hard he was smiling and it brought one to your own face as Eddie turned to you, cutie nestled against his chest with a tiny arm thrown over his dad’s shoulder.

“Where do you want us, baby?”

“Egg duty.” You flicked your chin in the direction of the carton of eggs, on the counter near the stove and empty pan.

His mouth dropped open in mock disbelief, “Your lack of trust in my cooking abilities is hurtful. You never let me make pancakes anymore.”

You scoffed, picking up the scraper you’d been using for the mix.

“Last time you were trusted with that, you put way too many chocolate chips in. Three out of the four of us were laid up on the couch with tummy aches for the rest of the day.”

Eddie pursed his lips as he fought a smile, eyes darting away to avoid your pointed look. The memory of him, Penny and Wayne groaning on the couch with bulging tummies and promises to never touch a pancake again was a fond one to look back on now that he wasn’t suffering.

“That was one time. Four times–baby, we all make mistakes.” He tried to reason, a boyish grin on his face. Eddie knew he wouldn't be winning this one and he was fine with that, he just liked to argue with you, loved the banter you threw back at him. His witty wife.

“You’re absolutely right, and you can mess up all the yolks you want. Except for Wayne’s.” He wouldn’t eat it if his yolk was broken in the cooking process, which was insane because you or Eddie cut his eggs up for him before serving him. It was almost like he had some sort of sixth sense when it came to them, knew when he’d been given an egg that’s yolk had been broken prior to being plated. After thoroughly testing his abilities, you both knew there was no way to fool him.

Eddie held up the wooden spoon in the hand that wasn’t holding Wayne.

“The f–,” quick glances were spared at the toddler on his arm and the little girl seemingly ignoring them on the couch, “-ffffreak am I supposed to do with this then?”

You placed your scraper down and picked up a nearby spatula, swapping the wooden spoon for it.

“Go crazy.” You teased, leaning in to give your husband a quick peck and cheek pat before you returned to your task.

You could hear Eddie talking to Wayne–or rather, narrating everything he was doing for him–and subconsciously, you offered the wooden spoon to your empty side, blinking a couple of times once you realized what you were doing and why the wooden spoon was out in the first place.

It was Penny’s favorite thing to use when helping you cook. She wasn’t at your side, at her usual place.

You craned your head to get a look at the couch, her curls barely visible from the top as she sunk into it. Maybe she was just outgrowing family cooking time.

You felt your throat get thick with something, eyes glazing over but you didn’t want to cry over breakfast and guilt her into helping you if she didn’t want to. So, you swallowed your disappointment and went back to stirring the mixture on your own.

As if she no longer felt your eyes on you, Penny got on her knees and craned her body around to peer over the couch, eyes filled with longing as she watched her family in the kitchen. She wanted nothing more than to join you but she couldn’t because she was mad at you. You all looked so perfect and happy but nothing really was. You kissed Santa.

You were only supposed to kiss her daddy. And Santa wasn’t her daddy.

You betrayed her and her daddy. You did a bad thing so you had to be punished, Penny wasn’t going to play with you, hug you or give you kisses ever again. It was a difficult decision for her to make, but there was no other way!

She turned back to the tv, its vibrant images ignored in favor of a head full of thoughts much too complicated for a child to understand. This was how it was going to be now, and something in her chest felt very heavy at the realization.

Penny refused to partake in any activities, locking herself in her room whenever you brought out something to do, be it baking christmas cookies as practice for the ones she and Waynie were supposed to make Santa, or helping with last minute decorations. She sat away from you and Eddie during the Christmas movie marathon, silently stewing in her misery–refusing to even look at you.

The day they were supposed to go see Santa at the mall, Penny made sure to stuff herself on her leftover Halloween stash of candy so she’d throw up, effectively keeping her family–namely you and her daddy–away from Santa.

There’s always next year. You’d chirped, helping her change out of her ruined clothes as she pointedly stared through you.

You’d obviously caught onto her change in demeanor, it was a major concern. Your spunky, outgoing little girl had become an overnight introvert, withdrawn. When you tried to talk to her, she brushed you off or claimed exhaustion, escaping to her room to avoid you. At first, you thought it might be something that happened at school.

A quick talk with her teacher after picking her up had confirmed her behavior at school had also taken a nosedive that week. She’d gone from playing with all the other kids during recess to sitting on the swingset alone. Her classroom attitude had dulled, she hadn’t raised her hand, talked to the kids at her table, nothing. The only other child her teacher noticed her interacting with was her friend Isabel. Miss Ripley said it appeared Isabel was comforting Penny.

The car ride home after that interaction was spent glancing at Penny through the rearview mirror and nibbling on your lower lip as you worried.

Was she just sad? Was it something else? Was your baby depressed? It wasn’t a warming thought, still, it was a possibility. You remembered the Charlie Brown Christmas special you’d all watched as a family the night before. The same sullen demeanor Charlie Brown displayed mirrored Penny’s behavior as of late perfectly. She either seemed a million miles away or looked like she wanted to be a million miles away.

One would think as Christmas neared, she’d be filled with excitement, sharing in the joy with her little brother but no. When Eddie talked to her, she’d perk up a little but anytime you tried to approach her, she shut down. Blunt answers and no excited chatter about the final week of school before Winter break. Nothing. She wouldn’t talk to you and it was really starting to worry you and Eddie.

In the end, after a long conversation between the two of you, you’d decided if this persisted past Christmas, you’d take Penny to see a child therapist, at least once, to make sure your baby girl was okay.

You had a feeling, mother’s intuition, that Penny was struggling with something big, even if just to her. You just had no idea how truly troubling the subject was for her.

Penny had grown more upset with you as time went on, but mostly, she was sad. At first, she was sure she had to tell her daddy about what she saw–but what would happen after?

Grown ups were complicated, she knew that much. Her friend Izzie’s parents had gotten divorced and Izzie said that meant she had two Christmases and two houses and two bedrooms along with a new step daddy. Even though Izzie didn’t seem all that upset about it, and raved about her two houses, Penny didn’t want any of that.

Penny didn’t want two Christmases. Penny wanted one Christmas. Penny wanted one house, one room, one family and one mommy and daddy. She didn’t want things to change. If she told her daddy, she knew everything would.

So, she couldn’t tell him. No way.

But she had to fix this. She had to!

And there was only one other person she could talk to, only one person who could fix it. Even if she was mad at that person, too, even if she had already tried her hardest to avoid having to be in the same room. She’d do anything to keep her family. Penny knew exactly what she had to do.

That’s how she found herself tucked into her bed, her blankie clutched to her side and fighting sleep on Christmas Eve.

You and Eddie had put her to bed hours ago, but she couldn’t sleep risk falling asleep or she’d miss her only chance at keeping her family together.

As the minutes ticked by, and the low glow of the Christmas lights lining the neighbor’s houses kept the pitch black from shrouding her bedroom, Penny’s eyes grew heavy. Snug like a little bug in her warm blankets, the sandman was calling.

Eventually, Penny dozed, chest rising and falling with her breathing. She dreamt of bright and colorful lights, chocolate chip cookies, and the comforting embrace of your arms.

She was pulled from them when she heard a dull thud. Her big brown eyes flashed open and she shot up with a start. For a moment, she had no idea where she was, nor even a sense of self identity as she wiped the drool from her cheek and smacked her lips together.

Her mouth opened wide as she yawned, hand reaching up to scratch at her head before falling onto her blanket covered lap. Just as fast as she startled awake, Penny fell back onto her pillows, nuzzling in as she prepared to go back to sleep.

And then her brain finally kicked into gear, reminding her of her task and she let out a gasp as she threw her blanket off of her, grabbing her blankie and rushing for her bedroom door.

It was yanked open in haste as her heart hammered in her chest, fearful she’d missed her chance to keep her family whole just because she’d fallen asleep.

Penny hurried down the hall, her footsteps surprisingly quiet. Before she even breached the doorway, she heard rustling.

And not just any rustling, it sounded like items were being placed under the tree in the living room. Presents.

This was it. This was her only shot.

Tentatively, she stepped out of the doorway and into the living room, mouth parting as the man in red came into view. Santa Claus.

For a moment, Penny was starstruck. The man she watched so many movies about, had heard so much about, who knew when she’d been bad or good, was right there. And he just so happened to be the man who kissed her mom. But he could fix it.

Without even thinking about it, she padded closer, until he was just a few feet away. Still, she couldn’t force herself to speak, couldn’t squeeze out so much as a peep as he placed another gift under the tree.

But she had to ask him.

Gulping down her fear, she finally spoke.

“Santa?”

Penny watched as Santa fell over over with a yelp, a few presents he had stacked near him toppling over him as he quickly squirmed onto his back, pushing himself up on his elbows.

She held her blankie to her chest, squeezing it tightly as she grimaced on his behalf. That looked like it hurted but Santa did a bad thing so it was okay.

They both stared at each other with wide eyes in silence and Penny noticed his beard had a stain on it. Icky.

“Wha-” Santa held up a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was much more gruff, “Penny, what are you doing still awake?”

Penny gasped, mouth falling open.

“You know my name?”

“Sure, I do. I know the names of all the children in the world. And…grown ups. Yes.”

Penny’s brows furrowed in thought, “Oh, yeah.”

Did he know she throwed up so they could stay home instead of seeing him at the mall?

Eddie carefully and slowly pushed himself up, adjusting the annoying padded belly belt thing he had to wear in a discreet manner so Penny wouldn’t notice his stomach was almost completely on his side.

Two years of dressing up as jolly ol’ Kris Kringle to shove the accumulated gits under the tree after Penny had almost caught the two of you putting the gifts under the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, and Penny finally caught him in the act. He owed you twenty bucks. But what was she doing approaching him?

Eddie had entertained a scenario where she did catch Santa, but he’d been banking on her being sneaky about it, running back to bed to pretend she’d been asleep during Santa’s stop at their place. He’d expected to hear about it for the first time in the morning, while she was bragging about it. He never thought she’d just saunter right up to him–but Eddie was good at staying in character.

He didn’t suffer as a theater kid for the first two years of his high school sentence for nothing.

Once he was sure his costume was secure, he was able to move onto one knee as he regarded her, “You know, it’s far past your bedtime…”

He watched her eyes flicker to the floor before her big, beautiful eyes were on him again and filled with guilt.

“I know. I’m sorry, Santa. But I really needed to talkta you. I know you are a very busy man and you have to go to a kagillion houses, but I promise it’s important and I’m not ‘sposed to swear but I swear ‘cause that’s how important it is. Please?” The guilt in her eyes gave away to a sense of urgency that filled Eddie with alarm and he straightened as she leaned forward, eager to say whatever it is she needed to say. He had a feeling it would explain her behavior.

“I can make all the time in the world for anything, Penny. It’s a little trick of mine. Go on, ba-dear.” Dear sounded like a term of endearment a guy old enough to become a legendary figure for consumerism and myth would use, right? Yeah.

This was it. Penny got her chance and even though she was shaking in her fluffy socks, she persevered.

“I know it’s about to be Christmas, but-but I was wondering Santa, uhm–I was wondering if it would be okay that I could get something else for Christmas this year. In-Instead of my presents. I don’t want any toys this year, you can give them to the other kids. I just only want one thing instead.”

Eddie’s whole body stiffened, panicking at the idea of Penny freaking approaching Santa Claus to make a special request–and c’mon was he supposed to say no to her while dressed as Santa Claus–that she’d be disappointed to not see under the christmas tree because there was no way Eddie would be able to run out and get it, if he could even afford it.

“What is it you want?” Eddie was so tense he was clenching his asshole.

“I was wondering if….if my mommy and my daddy could stay together.”

Eddie was absolutely bewildered, soul damn near leaving his body before crashing back down into place. “I–I beg your par–hmn?”

Then, his little girl raised her chin, filling herself with bravado as she held his gaze, “I saw you kissing my mommy.”

Shoot him. Get a shovel, beat him with it, because it was all starting to make sense.

His eyes slipped shut as he chided himself, the fear he’d had regarding the unknown disappeared, replaced with an intense relief as he mentally beat the crap out of himself. Penny was withdrawn because she’d witnessed him kissing you, while disguised as another man, and it was tearing her apart.

Eddie couldn’t begin to imagine her emotional anguish all because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself and he couldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth.

He felt like shit. Eddie had to fix this.

“Kissing me—? Oh, Penny. You’ve got it all wrong. The only person your mother kisses is your father.”

The pinch between Penny’s brows returned, “But…It looked like you.”

“What? This?” Eddie glanced down at the red suit, pulling at the red jacket. “You don’t think I go down all those chimneys without getting filthy, do you? No, I get plenty dirty and your dad–a great deal of dad’s around the world, actually–had a new suit waiting for me. It’s usually every block or so that I’m replacing my suit. Yes, your dad must have been trying it on, making sure it would be perfect for me. I appreciate when they do that, otherwise, certain things might be riding up with each chimney I have to go down.”

Eddie watched as Penny’s features began to soften, her puzzled expression wavering before she giggled, imagining Santa getting a wedgie.

That didn’t explain…“How come he was wearing a wig like your hair?”

The two stared at each other in a brief silence again.

“Now, that, I can’t explain. I don’t know! He’s your dad, you should know why he’s so weird. You tell me.”

“He is weird.” Penny agreed, shoulders sagging as the weight of what she’d seen was lifted from her, because she hadn’t seen her mommy kissing Santa Claus. Penny saw her mommy kissing her daddy while he was making sure Santa’s clothes would be good enough!

“An odd creature, indeed.” Eddie agreed, happy to see his little girl was starting to come back to life, so to speak. “But he’s an odd, weird creature who loves you, your brother and your mother very, very much.”

All Eddie wanted to do was reassure her of his love but the corner of Penny’s lips turned down and her gaze turned watery, brown eyes shiny with distress as her head bobbed in agreement.

“Penny…” He mumbled, reaching to grasp her small dainty hand in his his gloved one as she whimpered and a hot tear ran down her cheek. Saying her name only seemed to make her more emotional, tears leaking from both her eyes as her lip trembled.

“It–It–hurted my feelings ‘cause, cause my mommy loves my daddy so much. She always says so, so it hurted that I thought she kissed someone else because–because–because she looks at my-my daddy with hearts in her eyes like in the car–cartoons.” Penny stuttered out, breath hitching as she cried and Eddie’s heart clenched.

He knew she was upset, obviously but he hadn't realized she was this upset about it. Working herself up in her head. His little girl was willing to give up presents, material things, to ask if he and you would stay together instead. That’s a huge fucking deal for a kid.

Eddie had never had a big opinion on his parent’s relationship. He’d been a little younger than Penny when his mom died and the only thing he knew for sure now, was that she deserved better than his dad. With the few memories he had of her, and from what Wayne told him she was like, he wasn’t sure why she even stayed with that deadbeat. Eddie certainly didn’t have a moment where he was willing to barter off toys he wasn’t going to get in favor of his parents staying together. If anything, maybe little Eddie would have asked for his mom to grab their stuff, and him, and leave his dad behind.

Penny had a better family life, you and Eddie made sure of that, and she was apparently willing to do anything to keep it when she thought she was about to lose it.

Eddie had to blink back the wetness at his own waterline as Penny continued.

“But–But it hurted my feelings to be mad and mean to my mommy more ‘cause I love her so much and she’s a good mommy! She cuddles me whenever I want and takes care of me when I’m sick and takes me a bath and makes me warm food and–and–and she plays with me and uses funny voices and kisses my–my owies and she says she loves me and she didn’t do nothing wrong!” Penny was full on sobbing now, dropping her blanket so she could free up her fist to rub at one of her wet eyes.

Eddie didn’t hesitate, he tugged her forward and she went willingly, throwing both arms around him as she cried into the fluff lining his jacket. Eddie held her to him tightly, his own eyes squeezing shut. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

So, this whole time Penny had been intentional with her behavior, purposely being cold to you because she thought you had kissed Santa Claus. But being upset with you, and treating you as she’d been, had also hurt her feelings because of how much she loved you.

Penny got mad at Eddie a lot, he liked to tease her a lot, and the emotion was never really directed at you. Even if you were punishing her with a deserved time out, she was more hurt than mad at you. And regardless of the punishment she’d run right back to you after stewing in her emotions, to make sure you still loved her even if she had been a little bad. You reassured her every time that there wasn’t a single thing she could do to get you to stop loving her. Eddie was sure Penny just liked to hear you say it.

What a mess. Next year, he’d force Uncle Wayne to be Santa. Just so he could be sure this wouldn’t happen again.

Eddie held Penny until her sobbing died down. When she started hiccuping, he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, gloved thumbs catching the remaining tears and ridding her cheeks of them. Her big, sorrowful eyes were framed with long wet lashes. Reminded Eddie of a wounded puppy.

“Penelope, your mom loves you. Just as much as you love her and probably more.” If your I love you times infinities during an ‘I love you’ exchange with the kids (and Eddie) were proof, “What you thought you saw hurt your feelings, but your mom wouldn’t hold anything against you, especially if you were upset. All she wants is for you to be happy and feel loved. That’s what she asks for every year for Christmas.”

“Really?”

Eddie hummed in confirmation, caressing her cheek one last time.

“I miss her.” Penny admitted, wiping her eyes again as Eddie picked up her blankie and offered it to her.

“It’s a good thing you’ll be seeing her in the morning, isn’t it?”

Penny nodded and Eddie finally stood up, hands at the base of his back as he stretched and it popped.

“Let’s get you back into bed.” He held a hand down to her and she was about to slip her hand into his when she remembered something. She hurried over to the couch, dropping onto all fours to retrieve something from under it.

Eddie’s eyes widened when she pulled the fireplace poker out. Penny put it back into its holder by the fireplace they rarely used and returned to his side, immediately slipping her hand into his hold while he continued to stare at the poker, dumbstruck.

“Penny…uhm, what–what was that?”

“It’s a poky for logs, so daddy doesn’t burn his hands ‘cause he does whenever we use the fireplace.”

Okay, well, that wasn’t his fault. He had more control when he used his hands, the poker (stoker, whatever) just pushed one log further in but didn’t prevent the others from being nudged out.

“What, perchance, was it doing under the couch?”

Penny looked guilty, the tip of her sock covered toes stroking along the floor as she avoided meeting his eyes.

“...I was gonna kill you if you said no.”

“O-oh.”

Eddie felt a mixture of emotions at that revelation. He was greatly amused that she’d simply decided if the man in red who she thought ruined her family wasn’t going to fix it, she’d just get rid of him. He was also a little scared for his own life, and shocked that he might have been subjected to her beating him with it, had he said no or refused to talk to her in the first place.

“Okay...” Was all he could say before he led her down the hallway, still a little stunned.

Penny was exhausted.

When she climbed into bed, Santa tucked the big blanket in around her exactly how she liked and made sure to flare the bottom out so her feet didn’t feel trapped. He really did know everything.

“Goodnight, Penny.” He whispered, a hand stroking over the top of her head, mussing the curls there. For a moment, Penny thought he was gonna give her head a kiss ‘cause he leaned in then stopped. Penny was glad, that would be weird.

“Goodnight, Santa.”

And because Eddie couldn’t say it as himself, “And remember, your mom and dad love you.”

She beamed at him as he began to close the door, and when it was shut, Penny snuggled into her blankets and pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

She’d done it. Penny had planned to save her family, only to find out her family never needed saving. She was never going to lose it. Her mommy loved her, Waynie and her daddy and not Santa.

Penny was really glad she didn’t kill him.

She let out one big yawn, and promptly fell asleep.

—

After all the presents were under the tree, and he’d gorged himself a little on the cookies you and Wayne had made, Eddie made a big stink out of ‘leaving’ the house up the chimney (used the fireplace poker Penny had planned to take him out with to make a little bit of a racket), then he took off the heavy boots and quietly tiptoed to the master bedroom.

He sagged against the door once he made it. Jesus Christ.

What a night.

Eddie made quick work of getting out of the suit, stashing the costume in the back of the closet.

He didn’t bother throwing anything on, in fact, he slipped out of his boxers, too.

He watched you for a few moments, sleeping on your side, with your elbow propped on a pillow and your chin in your palm. You’d tried to wait for him.

Eddie’s lips twitched into a smile as he climbed into your side of the bed, slipping in behind you. He wasted no time, body pressing up against yours as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, lips trailing wet kisses from your pulse point, down to where your neck met your shoulder.

You stirred, letting out little groans as you tilted your head to the side. Always so pliant for Eddie, even when you were trying to break free of sleep’s hold.

“Eddie?” You slurred out. He hummed against your skin, tongue darting out for a taste.

That particular spot had your toes curling, but as your mind escaped the sleepy haze, you recalled what his mission for the night was.

“How’d it go?” You asked, shifting around until you were facing him. Once you were re-settled, he pulled you flush to him. If you weren’t awake before, the feeling of him semi-hard, pressed against the space between your pelvis and lower stomach certainly did the job. You hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing anything on his lower half.

Eddie momentarily debated on giving you the rundown of tonight’s emotional events but decided against it. If you knew, you’d just beat yourself up. You never gave yourself the grace you deserved. Besides, he was positive Penny would be back to her happy, mischievous self in the morning. And after hearing her talk about how much you loved him—well, Eddie just wanted you.

“It was fine, same as it goes every year—but I’m thinking, with Santa being old and shit, maybe Wayne can fill in next year.”

He didn’t give you time to respond, ducking down to kiss you. Eddie worked your mouth open, letting your tongues dance for a while before his kisses trailed down again. When his lips met the straps of your tank top, he tugged impatiently on it.

“Baby, I don’t think you're catching on here. I’m naked, kissing you, all hot and bothered and for some reason, you still have your clothes on.”

You smirked up at him, your stare sultry through your lashes. “Well, considering I’m someone’s present, I’m waiting to be unwrapped.”

Eddie’s face scrunched up in confusion before you wiggled your eyebrows. When he pulled the thick strap of your tank top down your shoulder, it revealed a slim red satin strap beneath it. Lingerie.

“Oh, you’re most definitely on the naughty list this year.” He growled and you squealed as his hands slipped beneath the top, smoothing over the satin as he lifted the cotton away.

It was quickly discarded on the floor, along with the sweats you’d been wearing.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, two creatures were stirring and one even yelped.

─

Despite her late bedtime, Penny was awake the moment the sun was up.

Eager to see if everything was as Santa said it was, and to see you, Penny hopped out of bed and ran out of her room to wake Waynie up. Then after they brushed their teeth, they’d both jumped onto your bed to wake you (and the two of you were thankfully clothed, Eddie had to dress you himself after he was done with you in the hours of the early morning, you were too exhausted to even sit up on your own).

You and Eddie moved too slow for their liking, so they’d already developed a Christmas routine. By the time the two of you were fully awake and joined them in the living room, they were digging around the tree.

Penny put the present she’d been assessing down the moment you seated yourself on the couch with Eddie to watch them open up a few gifts.

It surprised you when she ran over and threw herself at you, arms wrapping around your neck almost tight enough to choke you but you didn’t care. Your arms wrapped around her little frame, too, confused at the 180 degree change in her behavior again, and more than happy to return her affection.

Penny’s eyes were blissfully shut as she tried to convey all the love for you she had in her little body, into the hug.

“I love you, mommy. You’re the best mommy in the whole wide world and I’m glad you’re mine.”

“I love you, too, baby. Always.” You promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead as a hand tried to smooth her wild mane down, though you knew your attempts were futile. Until she would let you do her hair, she’d just have to open her presents looking like she’d been electrocuted. Nothing but some water, a comb and hair products could tame it.

Satisfied, Penny released you from her iron hold to join her little brother on the floor.

You turned to look at Eddie, already finding his eyes were on you and he had a big, pleased, shit eating grin on his face.

He quickly leaned in, pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose and pinched your cheek before addressing his spawn.

“Alright, you two know the rules. Three presents now, the rest you gotta save to open when Grandpa Wayne and Grandma Maude come over.”

“‘Kay.” Waynie mumbled, more fascinated with the wrapping paper of the big box in front of him than its contents. It had little Santa’s all over it, and he was trying to count them in his head even though he was still learning his numbers and started making them up past the number five.

A lot of Santas.

Wayne made the same scrunched up face his dad made whenever he was perplexed.

“Santa….” He mumbled, before looking over at you and Eddie.

“Mama kissid Santa?”

All three of you gasped.

"Waynie!"

"WHAT?!"

"Here we go again..."

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hihhasotherfixations · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 4: Missionary - Price x Reader

Kinktober masterlist

CW: fem!reader, protected p in v, this is rather tame but sweet :3

This one is not edited, sowwy

Word Count: 2233

Laying on the couch, the fireplace softly crackled while you relaxed, your eyes barely open as you watched the tv, the volume down to not break the nice and quiet atmosphere.

On top of you, your husband lay, his head resting on your chest while his hips slotted between your legs, the two of you tangled together though he seemed moments away from passing out.

Just that morning, he had gotten home from deployment. And not a good one.

On the last mission, things had gone south and John and his team had been pinned. It was close. Too close. If the backup hadn’t arrived to wipe out the enemy from behind, he wouldn’t be sitting here with just a burnt shoulder.

It was something John himself realised very well. And so he couldn’t bear to tear himself away from you, needing the confirmation that you were here - that he was here, with you. His wife, his woman, his love.

With his arms firmly wrapped around your waist for as much as his injured left shoulder allowed it, John had been laying in your embrace for close to two hours now while you watched a movie together, said movie slowly coming to a close.

Yet as it did, John started to shift.

Noticing it, you turned your head to look down. Your hand buried in his hair - which had stilled a while ago - picked its movement back up as you scratched his scalp. “You okay?” You whispered, not wanting to break the comfortable atmosphere.

At your words, John took a deep breath in and turned his head up to look at you, his chin on the valley between your breasts as his eyes scanned your face, a small smile on his face that curled his beard. “I just love you.”

Huffing out a little chuckle, you brought your free hand up to cup his cheek. “I love you too.”

Closing his eyes, John snuggled into your touch, tightening his arms around your waist as he groaned. “You don’t know how much I miss this whenever I’m away.”

At his words, your heart fluttered, though a little teasing smile then made its way onto your face. “You miss my touch or you miss using my boobs as a pillow?”

As your words sunk in, John very slowly opened a single eye, looking at you. “Do you want me to answer that, love? Cause I don’t think you’ll like the answer.”

At that, you narrowed your eyes. “Really? Boob pillow?”

At that however, John hummed with a little smug smile, shaking his head. “Both.”

“Hey, you can’t choose both, that’s unfair!” You huffed, pinching his cheek and John chuckled, pushing himself up a bit to hover more properly over you.

“Told you you’d not like the answer.” He smirked before he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a deep, loving kiss.

Humming in surprised delight, you tightened your hold in his hair, holding him to yourself as you kissed back, feeling John swipe his tongue over the seam of your lips, asking for entrance.

Without hesitation, you parted them and he delved his tongue inside, deepening the kiss in a delicious embrace as he explored every inch of your mouth.

It wasn’t for a bit before he pulled back, breathing a little deeper as he connected his forehead to yours. “Fuck, I need you. I’ve wanted you since I left.” He groans in a whisper, rolling his hips which were already so closely pushed together, causing you to promptly feel the bulge in his pants.

“John, you’re injured-“ You gasp softly, wanting to look out for his well-being, though the man seemed to have different ideas as he kissed you again, his arms releasing their chokehold on your waist as he instead began to caress your sides up and down.

“I only need one hand, darling.” John countered and you pouted.

“But the fireplace-“

“Who says we’re leaving?” He smirked, pulling you flush to his chest before he rolled over to sit with you on his lap before he stood up with a small grunt.

Grabbing two pillows as he went, John threw them down on the rug in front of the fireplace before lowering down to his knees, slowly leaning forward to set you down on your bed. Making sure your head was on the pillow.

“There we go.” John smiled, his hands on the waist of your pants as the two of you sat in front of the fireplace as it crackled softly.

“Very romantic.” You chuckled lightheartedly and John playfully rolled his eyes, not gracing you with a response as he instead began to slowly unbutton your pants.

His movements were slow, almost reverent as he began to tug your pants down your hips, underwear and all until you were left exposed on the rug.

Humming in satisfaction, John wasted no time, helping you remove your shirt as well until you were left completely naked.

The light from the fireplace danced on your body and as you looked up at him, your husband seemed completely enamoured as his eyes roved across your skin.

No matter how many times he saw you like this, he never failed to make you feel gorgeous.

“I could look at this all day.” John whispered while he took off his own shirt before he moved to lean over you again, his hands on either side of your head.

Watching him move his left arm - the bandage around it straining - you frowned, but John was quick to put a finger under your chin, making you look back at him.

“Look at me, darling. Only me.” He whispered before reaching beside you to grab the second pillow he’d grabbed, patting your hip to signal you to lift, which you did, allowing him to slide the pillow under your hips.

Blushing, you held your hands on your stomach, not really knowing what to do but watch as John moved to take off his sweatpants and boxers, flinging them under the coffee table before he moved to slot his hips between your legs again, his cock fully erect.

Biting your lip, you looked down at it, watching as John had practically put it on your stomach, making a show of how deep he was going to hit.

“John-“ You whispered but the man hushed you, reaching to the left of you to grab the condom he’d pulled out of his sweatpants earlier, opening the package and rolling it on.

“You and me.” He spoke, leaning down to kiss you, making him lean on his forearms before one hand travelled down, teasing down your pelvis before he reached your clit where he gently rolled the pad of his thumb, satisfied by the little reaction you gave.

With his lips so gently moving with yours and his hand on your clit, you couldn’t help but give in, your eyes fluttering closed as you sighed in pleasure into his mouth.

Feeling that, John smiled into the kiss before leading his fingers down, rubbing through your folds, smearing your wetness around before he pushed two fingers in.

Your breath hitched into the kiss while he pushed further in, slowly pumping his fingers a few times before he pulled back, humming.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart.” He whispered, pressing kisses to your cheekbone. “You want me that bad?” He teased and you blushed, looking to the side.

“It’s cause you were rubbing up against me all evening.” You tried and John hummed.

“Just means you’re ready for me.” He smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth while he scissored his fingers a few times before pulling out.

Slowly, he grabbed his cock, pulling back a bit before aligning himself with your entrance, looking at you deep in the eyes.

“You ready, love?”

At his question, you gave a small smile and nodded, ever so slightly bucking your hips, which made the man hum.

Slowly, he began pushing inside, the condom doing nothing to hide the delicious squeeze of your walls as he slowly entered you inch for inch.

“Ah-“ You gasped softly, feeling John breathe heavily against your ear as he pushed in to the hilt, a groan in the back of his throat while you almost felt like shaking. It had been so long since you’d felt your husband stretch you out. But now that he was, it felt like he never left, making you weakly buck your hips.

Feeling it, John’s breath hitched and he pulled away from your ear, looking down at you. “Little minx.” He smirked, pulling out slightly before he slowly thrusted back in, taking care to test the waters and make sure you were ready and not in pain.

As he did however, all you could feel was the drag of his dick, deliciously working through your walls as he gently began to move.

“There you go, good girl.” John whispered, smiling as he leaned his head down, starting to kiss and suck at your neck, his non-injured arm coming down to grab your thigh, keeping you nice and spread for him while he began moving.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whispered, your eyes closed in bliss while John slowly fucked you, his pelvis pressed flush to yours while his entire body eclipsed you, his lips attached to your neck while his forearms held himself up.

“That’s my line, darling.” John whispered, starting to speed up slightly as he closed his eyes, focusing on the tight squeeze of your walls. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.” He stuttered, feeling the pleasure already build. It had been too long since he had time to indulge himself, let alone indulge in you, making him sensitive.

Reaching one hand down, he quickly began to roll his thumb across your clit, making you choke on a whine as you clenched around his cock, your legs wrapping around his hips. “Fuck, John-“ You gasped.

Groaning softly in response, he leaned his head down and took one of your nipples onto his mouth, taking it between his teeth and sucking while he fucked into you, his movements starting to get desperate.

Whimpering, the combined sensations he was giving you were quickly adding up, a heat growing in your abdomen as John played your body like a fiddle, always knowing how to rile you up and work you to your orgasm quickly.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t leave me alone here.” John panted, starting to thrust harder, hitting your g-spot which caused a moan to slip out, your eyes shooting open in surprise as the man then quickly kept pounding into it, his cockhead hitting it with precision and power.

“Fuck, fuck-“ You whined needily, your climax growing in the pit of your belly as John continued to stimulate your clit while he fucked you, his mouth popping off your nipple to instead slam his lips back into yours.

With his hips wildly bucking into yours and his grunts of exertion echoing in your ears, you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, your hands coming up to cradle his face as you pushed your own hips up into his thrusts.

Taking John all the way into your channel, he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he broke the kiss to pant, continuing to slap his hips to yours, his right elbow pushing your thigh a little tighter to himself so that he could feel you squeeze his hips.

“Come on, love.” He huffed, glancing down at you to see your pleasured expression, the fire light dancing against your skin while your body jolted with every thrust, his balls slapping against your ass as he couldn’t stop himself from chasing his high.

Even still, his finger never stopped its assault on your clit and you whimpered, your head starting to feel fuzzy and full as your orgasm approached.

With panting breath and a sweaty body, you looked down, letting your eyes trail over John’s chest. His scars, the hair, his well toned stomach and muscles, the happy trail and eventually, the sight of his cock plunging into your heat over and over and over while his hand rolled your clit.

The sight was too much and you let another moan slip, your eyes still focused on where his cock disappeared into you. “John, I’m gonna-“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence, but you didn’t need to either.

“Me too, darling. Cum with me, please. Fuck.” John panted, sweaty and grunting with every thrust, his need only growing higher and higher as he lost himself in the pleasure, his gaze turning glassy as he buried his face in your neck, biting down on your sweet spot before he thrusted his hips once, twice more before pushing in to the hilt, groaning out a muffled moan into your skin as he spilled inside the condom.

Hearing, feeling and watching your husband cum was enough. As he did, he locked up, his thumb pushing down extra hard on your clit and you moaned out as you came as well, your walls shuddering and spasming around the man, causing his breath to hitch sharply as he bucked his hips, the two of you riding out your orgasms together.

And as you lay there, tangled in the firelight, the cold dark night banished outside while the two of you remained warm and inside together, there was nowhere you would rather be.

#hih kinktober 2023 #john price x reader #john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader #captain price smut #john price smut #price smut

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c0la-queen · 2 months

Note

I absolutely LOVE your writing, it's so nice to see eddsworld content especially this good <33 can I request Tord with a very shy partner? No pressure ofc, take your time!

Thank you!!! My neurons were absolutely firing with this piece, for realsies. It may not be exaactly what you envisioned? And I was trying not to make the Reader be the stereotypical "uwu im so shy sowwy" kind of shy? You know what I mean? Either way, I hope you enjoy, and if its not quite what you wanted, PLEASE feel free to send me an inbox message letting me know !!!

Run, Rabbit, Run. | Tord x Shy! Reader

Warnings: Mostly Tord's POV, not the fluffiest? it has a happy ending, but Tord is naturally a kind of fucked-up person.

---

Tord had a problem.

He doesn't have problems often, and certainly not problems he can't solve.

It wasn't every day that he wanted to be around someone - craved it. He acted like he only tolerated his roommates, kept the truth locked away under thick layers of steel.

But you. He sought you out, needed you like it ached. Your presence.

You, however, ran from him. Every time. Fled like a rabbit that had caught a glimpse of the stalking wolf. Scurried back to your burrow, safe and protected by densely packed earth. Where he could not reach you. It grinded at his patience, made him clench his jaw hard enough to crack a tooth. He walked into a room, you found an excuse to walk out. It was a constant among the chaos and unpredictability of their house.

The one thing that he needed like a dying man, and he couldn't have it. You wouldn't give it to him.

A problem.

He was going to fix this problem, if it meant the death of him.

And who was he but a stubborn man?

His opportunity came during a lazy Sunday afternoon.

The other three were all out, running errands and such. You were still home. Doing laundry, from the sound of it. He wasn't surprised, you liked to use Sunday as the day to do your household chores, reset for the coming week - not that he had been paying attention to your habits. No. Just coincidence.

From the garage, he could hear you. The wall that his workbench sat against was one that was shared with the laundry room, so it wasn't difficult. If he sat still, focused enough, he could practically imagine it. You, in your crop t-shirt and little sleep shorts that you always wore when you did laundry. Hair pushed out of your face. Dancing along to the music that he could hear playing from your phone - doing those silly, awkward dance moves that you did when you thought nobody was looking.

He wanted to be there. It was selfish, he knew. But that little undamaged piece of him sitting in his chest longed to join you. Insert himself into the little life that you had carved out for yourself in their house. Slot his own being so nicely beside your peace and quiet. You were so… unlike him. You were soft, sweet. Like the skolebrød of his childhood. You were vanilla and sugar. Unmarred by anything horrible in the world. That self-centered part of him wanted to take. To clamp his jaws down around your hind legs and sink his teeth in when you tried to escape.

Tord was moving before he even realized it.

You had moved out of the laundry room. Your music faded as you walked further into the house. If he remembered correctly (That phrase tasted bittersweet on his tongue. As much as he craved you, he didn't want to admit how actively he was chasing you. A wolf that resented the rabbit.) you would set about doing the dishes after depositing your empty laundry basket in your bedroom.

His mouth was dry. So he moved to the kitchen. To get water. (That's what he would tell you. That's what he would tell anybody who asked.)

The switch from the garage to the house was always jarring to the senses. The garage was cold, unprotected from the autumn chill. But the house was warm. Welcoming. Safe. (You were inside.) It was like sitting under a hot shower after catching hypothermia.

He stopped in the doorway.

There you were. In the kitchen. Dishwasher open. Your smartwatch was discarded on the kitchen table alongside your phone and water bottle. Music was still playing from the device's speakers. You were, just as he guessed, wearing your crop tee and shorts. (The collar was hanging low on one of your shoulders, bearing the skin to his vision. His hands itched.) You hadn't noticed him yet. Little rabbit unaware of the danger that lurks in the forest underbrush.

It was something beautiful watching you in your own little world. In public, you were so small. Reserved. Put a cork on your personality so that nobody could truly see who you were. To you, it felt like security. If nobody had access to your identity, then nobody could take it away. Nobody could judge you. Even home, with the boys, you were less than yourself. Not to the same degree, but still limited. They didn't take offense to it, they knew it wasn't you distrusting them. It's just how you were. But here, when you thought you were alone? The cork was removed and he loved to watch the bottle overflow.

You spun on your heel and nearly dropped the bowls in your hand from how hard you flinched at the sight of him. He could see the way that you drew in to yourself, made yourself smaller.

"Oh, um, hey. Tord. I didn't… realize you were home."

There was something tight in his chest at the way you looked so nervous. You shifted in your spot, looked anywhere but at him. He wanted you to look at him.

"I am."

You only answered with a soft 'oh' before turning back to the dishwasher. He remained still, watching. Clearly, you were looking for a way out, a chance to flee. Something he wasn't going to let happen.

"I should probably-"

"You keep avoiding me."

Your head shot up, looking up at him with wide, pretty eyes. He dug his fingernails into his palms.

"What? No, no I haven't- I haven't been-"

"Do not lie to me."

It was cruel, yes, but it gave him the desired effect. You clammed up immediately. Shoulders slumped. Gave him just a little inch, but that was all he needed to take a mile. He stepped closer. You stepped back.

A snarling, drooling, hungry wolf, closing in on its prey.

Your back hit the counter. He stepped forward again.

A trembling little rabbit, cornered with nowhere to go.

He stopped a foot away from you.

"I have tolerated this for months. For months I have watched you run from the sight of me alone. As if the very idea of being in the same room as me is too much for you to bear. Do you even have any idea what you do to me? Do you know how it kills me?"

He could feel the way that you tensed up. A spike of anger stuck into his chest, burning hot. You weren't looking at him. You were looking at your shoes again. He forced his words out of his throat in the form of a growl.

"For fuck's sake, look at me. Look at- Look. At. Me."

Frustration boiled over, bubbling and spilling over the sides of the pot and he wasn't able to put the lid on it fast enough. He reached up and grabbed your jaw, holding it firmly between his index and thumb. Forced your eyes to focus on him. Only him.

A sick part of him preened at the little gasp that came out of your throat.

But you kept your eyes on him. Good girl.

"Tell me why you have been avoiding me."

His voice was softer now. He hated how much pain he could hear in it. How it trembled. He had hoped you wouldn't notice. But you did. Your mouth opened. Then closed. You swallowed thickly. Then you spoke.

"I thought…. thought you didn't like me."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Him? Not like you? How could you think that? He could only hate you as much as a hunter hates Mother Earth for blessing him with food.

"You just… always seem so.. annoyed at me whenever I try to talk to you. And you never really… really talk back.. Just kinda… give short answers. I thought you found me annoying. I didn't want to keep annoying you. So I just… just backed off…."

He took a moment to process that. Let it all sink in.

He couldn't help it.

Tord began to laugh.

Through his laughter, he noticed you pout, heard a soft whine leave you. A groan ripped through his laugh at the sight. As if his body was working on autopilot, he surged forward. Pressed his lips to yours. He felt your gasp against his lips, then felt your melt into the kiss. You kissed back.

When his oxygen began to run short, he pulled away. Not too far, though. Kept his forehead pressed flush to yours. Took in the sight of you. You, panting softly, lips swollen from the kiss. Looking up at him through your pretty eyelashes.

"I have never hated you, kjære. I am… aloof. I have a resting bitch face. You are not the first person I have unnerved. But.. you are the first that I have wanted to be close to. If you would have me."

Courtesy. Formality. Tord was a stubborn man, and when he managed to get a taste of blood, he clamped his jaws down tight and didn't let go.

And this rabbit laid down in his teeth willingly.

You smiled.

"I'd like that. Yeah."

#eddsworld #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld tord x reader #eddsworld tord #requested

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babey-lewis · 4 months

Text

Baby's first tantrum

Ashe (she/they) has a tantrum after a childhood without being allowed to let her emotions out. Luckily, her daddy, Lewis (he/they/it), takes care of them and let's them scream.

Tears flooded Ashe' eyes as she stomped their foot.

"No! Don't wanna go nini!"

Lewis could see it was quickly turning into a tantrum. Okay, time to activate, "gentle parenting" mode. Lewis steeled himself, preparing for the inevitable screaming. They always tried to let their baby scream. It helped their regression so much. All her life, Ashe hadn't been able to express her emotions, especially not to family, so it always came out when they regressed, the trauma of repression flaring when she was tiny.

"No! Don't wanna!" They screeched, flailing her arms and stomping her feet.

"I know sweetheart, but you are so tired, and the sun has gone to bed already," he tried to reason, a soft look on their face. His hand reached up to brush a tear away, their hand being slapped away.

"Hey, honey, you can yell, but you can't hit, okay? That's not fair to Daddy, and it's not who my little girl is." He wasn't angry, but he sure was stern. His baby wasn't a mean child. She didn't mean to bite.

Lewis nodded, "I understand that," his voice staying calm and quiet. "It must feel really disappointing to have to stop playing for bedtime, huh?"

"No!" Ashe screeched again, not properly listening to what her caregiver was saying. Their bottom lip quivered as a fresh wave of screaming and crying gushed out.

"I know, Hun, it's okay. You can be upset about this, I give you permission, not that you need it," Lewis nodded gently, his knees just a little sore from kneeling on them to get down to his baby's height. "I know, it must feel so yucky, but we do need to go nini soon, sweetheart."

That's what tipped the baby over the edge. She started running and knocking things over, throwing her stuffies and toys on the floor. She would let of the occasional scream, but the crying was a constant.

"Hey, hey baby," Lewis cooed as he stopped their baby from running, scared she would hurt themselves. He held her gently, just tight enough to keep her down; it may not have stopped them from squirming and kicking, but it did stop them from being hurt, and for that Lewis was happy.

"My little love, shhhh, it's okay. Let it all out. Daddy won't punish you for this, I promise. Just let it all out." The caregiver cooed, rubbing his hand up and down its baby's back. The reassurance that she could cry made Ashe scream and cry louder, their face snotty and red.

"Don' wanna go nini!" Ashe squeaked, their voice becoming more sad than angery now.

"Jus' wanna pway games," She sniffed.

"I know, tiny, I do. How about this," He added after a pause, "Would you like daddy to go nini with you?"

"Hic," Ashe hiccuped. "G-go nini wif me?" She asked, pointing a chubby finger at herself.

"That's right, tiny, daddy and his baby will go nini together, hm?"

Ashe took a second to think, her coily black hair dancing around her face. "Mkay, daddy.. fank you."

"You're welcome, tiny angel. C'mon, let's go nini, my little love."

"I sowwy I scweamed and cwied.."

"Hey, honey, look at daddy, please?" Lewis murmured as he helped its baby into bed. Ashe looked up cautiously.

"You are always allowed to express emotions, and it's okay that sometimes they get too much to keep in your body, so you have to scream real loud so that you feel heard." There was a pause, "But it's important to say sorry when we yell, do you know why?"

Ashe nodded carefully, her lips pouting. "Cuz' shoutin' isn faiwr to you," her big eyes flicking off to the side in embarrassment.

"That's right angel, but you know, I'll always let you express your emotions, even if sometimes they turn into tantrums, okay?" Lewis asked, pressing a kiss to its baby's puckered lips (/p).

"Mhm, fank you, daddy," The baby murmured, eyes getting heavy and tired. Crying always made her so tired.

"You're welcome, tiny. Now, get some sleep Hun, daddy will be here for you, always."

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modernghostfare · 5 months

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Hello.. can we get more ghostmace headcanons. If you ever wrote any pls link them too...

:)c YESSS i love talking abt maceghost.. i know ive made a bunch of sporadic posts about them but i havent done a like dedicated hcs post. i feel like often im struggling to understand the narrative of their past but generally i keep the same vibe to it all.

mace is for sure the more level headed of the two only because relationships and love freak ghost out. ive mentioned on a post like years ago hes traumatized by watching his mother stick with his father and i still believe this. hes like scared to be in a position where something Isn't working anymore but hes too emotional to cut it off so he self sabotages the relationship so mace will get pissed and stop talking to him.

in the past (as i mentioned in another post) mace Did also feed into this. he had a good home life but his own personal issues and anger at more outward issues caused him to like. seek an outlet for this sort of petty squabbling. and he found it in ghost. until he got tired of festering and being pissed off all the time and decided to actually like Do Shit he feels good about. and he broke up with ghost.

now in modern times where theyve caught up with each other it's like a weird mash of their past and them both being more mature. ghost struggles more because hes very adverse to actually improving himself and how he feels about himself bc hes like. hes Given Up on being a person. while mace has done a lot of healing.

like the toxic factor of maceghost Is Ghost at this point to me. but theres a lot of love there bc theres a lot of mutual respect and, like, easy familiarity there. mace understands how ghost works at his core.

so like. when ghost is being Normal and not anxious they literally just. like. Click? mace can extremely put ghost at ease with just his presence. and mace in turn rly enjoys his company bc a calm ghost is actually just sort of casually funny.

and ghost does like making mace laugh i imagine mace has a really beautiful smile bc he has resting bitch face so when it lights up it's very special.

ghost also i think would be 100% willing to take his mask off in a room of just him and mace. no special occasion needed he's just comforted. mace has already seen it over many, many years.

because they're like an Old couple i think theyve been on and off since their mid twenties for ghost and late twenties for mace. WHICH is another reason mace like wont entertain the childish picking ghost does theyre literally too old.

but he does play along a little. sometimes. old habits die hard. if it's petty mace will have a back and forth w ghost for old times sake its just how ghost communicates sometimes. emotions are just hard for ghost mace understands this. to put all of this simply.

i will say tho if more comes out and they end up more antagonistic than my current read i will still be a huge stan i love when dudes try to fuck and kill each other 💪🥰💕

speaking of fucking tho. tw for implying sexual assault also i just got kinda nasty sowwy.

LIKE we know ghost has a complicated relationship w sex a lot of his past history w it is like traumatic. i think he was already promiscuous as a teen bc he already had issues from his upbringing so hes like. well experienced. and he likes sex. and he likes fucking mace bc his dick is thick, hes good with his hands, and he's not afraid to be rough with him and take their time bc mace likes to be edged and when ghost is rly into it he Likes it to Last esp if he can cum more than once. he likes when his pussy is sore.

BUT ALSOO theyre both like. verse esp w each other. ghost likes topping more tho. he likes fucking mace for being a little bit vocal and just. like. huge. ghost loves bending him over and watching his fat bounce. ghost would blow off any task and anyone to go fuck him.

but also, bc its ghost and i think if the wrong buttons get pressed in the wrong order and it goes sour he gets quiet and, like, disassociates. and mace keeps watch for that bc he doesn't want to put ghost in that state. its not fun

#asks #anon #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #mwmp #maceghost #i love them literally i think about them all the time.#ive said maybe 50% of this before but The Vibes #Important.#i think also i said like and literally a million times brothers im sorry

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topguncortez · 2 years

Text

Have Mercy- B. Floyd

pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader word count: 800 synopsis: 'If you made up your mind, then make it. Make this fast. If you ever loved me, have mercy'- Brett Young, Mercy warnings: angsty as fuck, mentions of emotional cheating, arguing, yelling, probably won't be a part 2 sowwy

“I want a divorce.”

Those were four words Bob Floyd never thought he’d hear in his life. But standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, stood the person he loved who was saying those four words. He knew it was coming, the argument of all arguments. The angst and tension had been building for months between you, it was just a matter of time until the bomb dropped, and here it was, taking out everyone in its path.

“You don’t mean that,” Bob said, his accent thick as he looked up from his shoes.

“I do, Bob, I really do,” Your voice broke and he felt his heart break even more. You hardly ever called him by his first name. It was usually ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ or the occasional ‘Bobby’ but never just ‘Bob’.

“Why?”

“Why? Why!? Bob, take a fucking look around! You are never here! And when you are. . . you’re a million miles away.”

“I am right here!”

“And I have never felt more alone in our relationship than I do right fucking now!”

Bob jumped at the tone in your voice. You never yelled or cursed like this. You would let out the occasional curse word if you bumped something or messed up a recipe, but it was never like this or directed towards Bob. He wanted to cower. He never took being yelled at well, it made him feel small, and she knew that. Bob had struggled during boot camp getting over the drill sergeants yelling in his face. It made him nervous, then he would stutter or his accent would come out so thick you can hardly understand him, which just made the drill sergeants yell at him even more.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here now, and-and let’s fix it! Rooster and his wife went to counseling and it worked! They’ve never been happier!”

“We aren’t Rooster and his wife, Bob. And Bradley never cheated on her.”

Bob clenched his jaw and looked away from you. Of course this would come up again. It had been the topic of arguments before. Bob always sensed that you had been jealous of Phoenix. The one time you admitted it, Bob told you you were crazy. He didn’t love Phoenix the way he loved you. Sure, Bob loved Phoenix as a friend, and spent time with her. He trusted his pilot with his life, literally, and Phoenix had become a close friend, a salvation for when he was fighting with you.

“I am not cheating on you with my fucking pilot!” Now it was your turn to jump at the sound of Bob’s voice. Just like you, he never cursed or yelled. The one time you saw him get mad was when Hangman had pissed him off by saying something stupid. And even then he waited until he got home to yell, that vein in his forehead popping out, like it is now.

“Not physically,” You said, tears now rolling down your cheeks, “But emotionally? Bob, you are so in love with her. You go to her after every fight, she’s the first person you talk to when you’re having a bad day. If you could be anywhere right now, where would it be and who would it be with?”

‘At the hard deck. . . with Phoenix’ He thought, but kept quiet, knowing his answer would only make things worse. But his silence was also enough of an answer for you. You buried your head in your hands and let out a sob as Bob watched from the other side.

No amount of comfort he could give would ever make you feel comforted. But, you were right, and Bob knew it. He had tried to push away the feelings for Phoenix for a while, stating in his head that they were just friends, that everything was platonic. But hearing you admit that you knew. . . was enough for Bob to finally accept them himself. Bob couldn’t stand to listen to you cry anymore, so he walked over to you and pulled you into his arms. You rested your head against his chest, as he placed his chin on top of your head. He had tears running down his own face, but rubbed your back to try and comfort you a bit.

“I’m sorry,” Bob said softly.

“I am too,” You whispered. You pulled back from Bob, and placed a hand on his cheek. You wiped a tear from under his eye with your thumb, and leaned into kiss his soft pink lips, “I can’t do this anymore, Bobby. It’s breaking me.”

“I never meant-”

“I know,” You shushed him, and looked into his baby blue eyes, “We can’t help who we love. And I know you will never love me the way you love her.” Bob closed his eyes as his lip trembled. Usually the sight in front of her was enough to make her want to hug him and tell him everything was okay, but right now, it just broke her even more, “It’s okay, Bob. I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Bob cried, “You’ve always been the strong one out of us.”

Y/N let out a sad laugh and kissed Bob one last time, "I love you, Robert Floyd." Bob didn't have a chance to say it back as she slipped away from his arms, and walked out the door.

-- -- --

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#top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #top gun blurb

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hiimponyboysgirl · 2 years

Text

wait for naptime

requested? : no

pairing : daddy!peter parker x little!reader

pronouns : she/her

prompt : reader is tired,but its not quiet naptime yet,so they have a tantrum.

warnings : none, unless you count tantrums as a warning

as peter does his work at the table,y/n walks in,drowsy eyed. “daddy,i tired.” she says,and peter looks up. “but princess,its not naptime yet.” he says. “but i tired!” she says and peter raises his eyebrows. ‘why don’t we go play?” he says,and y/n shakes her head. “i wan’ nap now!” she says,and peter shakes his head. “We can’t nap now,babygirl! we have a schedule!” he says,getting a little annoyed that she won’t stop. “no!” he says,sternly. “but why not?” she asks,fussily. “because we only have 30 minutes love!” he says,and she sits down on the ground and starts crying. “that’s not working today.” he says,but she just continues crying. “baby,stop!” he says,and picks her up and sits back down. “but i wanna sleep!” she says,and he leans her head on his shoulder. “you threw a fit up until naptime. you could have colored or sat out here and i could have given you juice but no,you threw a fit. i’m sorry baby,but you can’t have a treat when you wake up.” he says,and puts her juice on the table. “i sowwy daddy.” she says,and peter,rubs her back. “go to sleep love.” he says,and y/n slips of into there nap they’ve been waiting for.

#little!reader #peter parker x little!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker

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bratzforchris · 8 months

Note

ugh i need more fluffy lil lukey fics 😫😫 it’s just cute 😵‍💫

Littles Get Sick Too

❃

Summary: Luke gets sick while he's regressed, but when he's with his mommy, he's always okay<3

Pairing: Little!Luke x caregiver and feminine!reader

Warnings: Vomit, panic attack over vomiting

Word Count: 1119

A/N: I feel like it's necessary to say once again...THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION (not directed to you, anon, just in general :)). I am not saying or assuming Luke is an age regressor. This is a work of fanfiction that serves the sole purpose of fun.

❃

“Mommy?” Luke mumbled, shaking your arm. “Mommy, wakes up.” he whimpered.

You snored softly, not registering Luke’s quiet voice in your deep sleep. Luke whined, wrapping his arms around his nauseous tummy. The little one had been feeling rather unwell all night, but being regressed, he didn’t know how to articulate it. Yesterday evening, he had been extremely tired and didn’t really want dinner. Naïvely, you had chalked this up to him just having had a long day. The blond had been put down for bed early and had slept well, until now.

He was restlessly tossing and turning, trying to find a position that didn’t make his belly slosh sickeningly. Finally, it got to be too much. Luke whimpered as his stomach turned and he began to vomit all down his front and all over the sheets.

“Mommy!” he sobbed loudly. “Mommy helps!”

You woke up to the sound of liquid splashing against the sheets and Luke calling out your name. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, flicking on the lap. The sight that met your eyes when the light came on made you beyond sad. Luke was sitting in a puddle of his own throw up, crying heavily with his arms clutched against his sick tummy.

“Oh Lu, it’s okay, buddy. I’m so sorry you don’t feel well.” You cooed, kissing his head.

“Made mess, Mommy. I…I sowwy.” he whimpered, looking up at you.

“Sweetheart,” You said sadly. “Don’t be. I’m sorry I didn’t wake up.”

You slowly climbed out of bed, careful not to get tangled in the soiled sheets. You walked around to Luke’s side of the bed and kissed his forehead. He was a bit warm, but not so much that it was concerning. The poor little one probably just had a 24-hour tummy bug. The blond fisted his eyes before making grabby hands for you, whimpering loudly.

“Mommy, uppies.” he whined, letting out a burp.

“Do you feel sick again, buddy?” You asked.

You longed to hold your baby boy, but you didn’t want to pick him up just yet if he felt like he was going to throw up again.

Luke shook his head. “Nuh uh.”

“Alright, bug. Arms up, honey.” You whispered softly, slowly pulling Luke’s messy shirt off of him.

You helped the baby out of bed, leading him to the bathroom. Sitting him against the side of the tub allowed Luke to lean his head on its cool sill, taking deep breaths as his stomach groaned. You grabbed a soft washcloth and wiped Luke’s chin and hands with warm water and some soap. You knew your baby probably wouldn’t want to take a bath right now, so you didn’t force him. Luke hiccuped, watching you with tired eyes.

You knew Luke wasn’t feeling well, simply because of how nonverbal he was. Luke was normally a very verbal little, but right now, he simply clutched his stuffie in one hand and his tummy in the other, watching you sleepily. You had thrown Luke’s shirt in the sink to be cleaned and you went to grab the sheets, kissing the blond’s forehead with a “be right back, baby”.

Luke didn’t even argue. He simply nodded his head, closing his eyes. You quickly grabbed the sheets off the bed and brought them to the bathroom, throwing them into the sink with the blond’s soiled pajamas.

“Mommy,” Luke whined, just as you were filling the sink with bleach and hot water. “No feel good ‘gain.”

“Okay, honey, it’s okay,” You whispered, rubbing his back and walking to the toilet. “Come over to the toilet, bubba.”

Luke immediately began to sob, gagging and reaching out for you. “Mommy, no!”

“You’re making yourself feel more sick, Lu. Try to take some deep breaths, baby.” You said sadly.

“No!” Luke screamed, tears rolling down his cheeks. “No! I scawed! NO!”

Your heart absolutely shattered. You knew how much Luke hated throwing up when he was big and it was a hundred times worse when he was little. He was so out-of-sorts at this point that all you could do was kiss his head and rub his back, whispering comforting words.

Finally, the crying and nausea got to be too much for the poor blond and he began to throw up into the toilet. This round lasted much longer than the last, with Luke vomiting on and off for about thirty minutes. By the time he was practically dead on his feet, leaning heavily on you.

“You ready for bed, buddy?” You asked, tucking a blond curl behind Luke’s ear as he began to fall asleep on your shoulder.

“Mhm,” Luke nodded, thumb sneaking ever closer to his mouth. “Cawwy me?” he asked.

You sighed. Luke was heavy, especially when he was sleepy and dead weight, but he was also sick and miserable. And so, you hoisted him onto your back, carrying him into the guest bedroom. It was currently 2:23 am and you and Luke both were way too tired for you to change the sheets on your bed. You softly tucked your little angel into bed, kissing his forehead softly.

“Mommy, tummy huwt.” he whined, sucking on his thumb.

“I know, sweet boy, I know. I’ll be right back, love.”

You ran around your shared house, grabbing the things you would need for taking care of a sick Luke. These included his paci, his comfort water bottle, his blankie, a thermometer, medicine, and a vomit-proofed trash can. By the time you came back into the room, Luke had somehow managed to work the TV and was watching Paw Patrol, hiccuping softly.

“I’m back, bubba.” You told him.

Luke smiled, reaching out for you. “Mommy!”

Quickly setting the things on the nightstand, you crawled into bed beside Luke, with him immediately snuggling into your side. You popped his paci into his mouth, and he immediately began to suckle on it softly, rubbing your pajama shirt in between his thumb and forefinger. Even over the sound of cartoons playing on the television you could hear Luke’s stomach gurgling and growling. You knew the blond was probably going to throw up again, so you quickly checked his temperature and gave him some medicine while he was slightly less nauseous.

“There’s a trash can by your bedside, buddy. Use that if you feel sick, okay?” You asked him.

Luke nodded sleepily, cuddling into your side. The vomiting had worn him out and now all he wanted to do was cuddle with his mommy. You snuck your hand onto Luke’s belly, rubbing soft shapes to get him nice and relaxed. Taking care of a sick little was hard, but you wouldn’t trade being Luke’s mommy for the world.

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nonbinaryaubrey · 1 year

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sowwy if ive been quiet on here ive been distracted with the um. the pokemon leaks umm.. got. pkmn au stuff ig <333

(1 image of the leaks under the cut)

one of the few ones i think its cute... ik this is like. bread twins pokemon NUMBER ONE its a bread dog itd be a crime not to give this to them.. but.... i want to put one on hero's team so bad...... maybe like.. he couldve gotten one as a gift from them in the story or whatever..

#aubrey.txt #scarlet and violet spoilers

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futurefind · 2 years

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//A rundown of my og “Myrmidon Singularity”, ft Rea as Master, because I’ve put a lot of thoughts into it even if nothing 100% ‘solid’ script or time (beyond “During Part 1″) wise or anything. :]

EARLY/MAIN STORY BEATS:

new singularity appears, exact location can’t be pinned down beyond ‘east-central europe’ at first (with guesstimates ranging from as East as Italy, West as Black Sea, and to the coasts of the Baltic & Mediterranean Seas north & south-wise)

Rea and co. head there, the merry band including Scathach, who volunteered

Usual hunt for locals ft wyverns enemies, map fucky wucky bc of magical concentration in the atmosphere; Why Are You So High You

Saved from Giant Mob courtesy of mysterious Servant aka [local/Myrmidon!] Chiron... who ? promptly ?? kisses Rea ????????????

what. (Da Vinci and Romani are spitting their coffee for completely different reasons [she’s amused as shit, he’s mortified], everyone on site is losing their shit for Obvs Reasons, Where Is Ur Hr Manager Sir)

Much embarrassment and even more apologies gods forgive him later Chiron explains he thought she was his wife ?? even though shes a shapeshifter??? @/Scathach if ur gonna kill him can he show u the way to the king first hes so sowwy

Meet up with the King Consort amidst other battles; he’d been leading local soldiers in monster patrols or what have you and was concerned when Chiron used his NP; also lore dumps local history to the Chaldea grew while they’re there

smth smth the gods they’d thrown into Tartarus have suddenly been trying to break out via monsters corruption etc etc; Romani loredumps irl myth abt the Titans, Chiron & His Majesty oo and aa over Chaldea tech

includes much lovemail abt King Ligyron bc, yeah. and also seconding Rea’s weird resemblance to Chiron’s wife. mostly lovemail though. he’s not the consort for no gd reason

Make their way to a sprawling luxurious & prosperous city built into a valley’s side, the capital of the kingdom of the Myrmidons

On Chaldea’s end the sensors/maps stabilize into Northern Greece; explains Chiron and the local culture & its aesthetics

Takes them straight to the King... who is Achilles ??

and also has no idea who Pelleus is???

he’s a full god (presumably son of either Zeus or Poseidon?)?

and he overthrow Olympus/Zeus/the last gen of gods ??????

(also the king consort is Patroclus <3)

(he is Also also weirded out by Rea’s resemblance to Chiron wife, way more than Pat was)

After Chaldea explain their confusion courtesy of their Vastly Different irl-based mythologies, Myrmidon!Achilles (aka Ligyron-Achilles on his summonable card, Lancer, or still just Ligyron for Chaldea grew in the Singularity to keep things straight) explains that, here:

the prophecy about Thetis’s son didn’t come in time [as in, before he was conceived], so he’s a Full God

Olympus’s fear of him [read: Poseidon/Zeus’s] led to lots of awful shit of hunting etc of Thetis and later Achilles himself

he was hidden away with Chiron & trained by him

instead of simply protecting himself & his mother when he gained his full strength, Achilles instead rebelled against Olympus wholesale and won

included heroes from Trojan War??? to rhyme his og history’s fame found there

instead decided to have his personal slice of kingdom in Greece bc god or no he preferred humans. also spite of not even bothering to make use of the crown trophy of the old gods [olympus]

yeeted Zeus, Poseidon, and the other Olympians that didn’t submit to his rule/victory down into Tartarus, joining the Titans (Worst Roomie Situation Ever, rip. awkwaaaaaaaard)

Some diversions and emergency side-quests later, and Queen Mother Thetis makes her appearance in court to give her son regularly scheduled tlc & advice & concern

She’s a literal Goddess so of course she’s a Pseudo-Servant (Caster) except her host is Rea. Oh hello.💡

Polite, demure; super fucking quiet n subdued compared to Rea Herself. V amused by it tho!

Chiron’s wife; shapeshifts some multicolored seafoam hair on to make them distinct; explains they met when she’d sneak in to see how Achilles/Ligyron was doing with his training

Ligyron says he’ll help Chaldea and their quest to save humanity etc... after they help him solve his Olympi-Titan problem :]

Chaldea crew has politely omitted the nature of Singularities as well as just how :[ Achilles and co’s fates are in og history. it’s fine.

FINALE STORY BEATS:

With magi-comms setup to communicate with the smaller groups they split up into (so the Myrmidons can both handle city security etc while Also helping out Chaldea with info etc), eventually defeat the rebelling Olympians & Titans

There is ?? No Holy Grail?? Nor a change in the Singularity’s status. the fuck.

They come back to Ligyron empty handed and confused af, he puzzles over how to help

Eventually, somehow, they figure out the source of the Singularity is not a Holy Grail but Ligyron himself. the power of a literal god-king who wasn’t supposed to manifest? mayhaps fueled/’heart’ of a Holy Grail itself?

Ligyron, being Ligyron (Achilles), agrees with a grin to sacrifice himself so Chaldea can save their own world; he’s done his job of overthrowing Olympus, n founding/stabilizing his kingdom, fought battles he never could’ve imagined between said overthrowing of Olympus and fighting them once more with others from a different world (nvm one who looks like his mom!), says farewell to Patroclus but assures him he’ll see him in Elysium so dwai beloved see you before you know it (still be sure to live long tho!), Chiron says he’s proud of him, etc

Ligyron dissipates, and the Singularity starts to collapse

And Thetis.

Loses.

Her. SHIT.

The Singularity doesn’t disappear, and instead resettles into a barren and craggy landscape; their location snaps somewhere else(? somewhen?) on Chaldea’s sensors/maps, but Romani doesn’t get time to specify where

Thetis, now white haired & yellow-eyed and an Avenger, wails and screams and rages about how “you ruin EVERYTHING” and goes straight for Rea’s throat

Servants keep fighting her to a standstill, as Thetis rips into Rea verbally—except it’s way more personal than it should be, targeting not just her actions but her personal character flaws, her insecurities, her own rage and wrath and ruin, her.

Monologuing reveals Thetis, in life, ‘slaughtered Troy’ and all the soldiers; after trying to kill Zeus, was imprisoned (and implicitly tortured) for millennia; from a different timeline altogether, rather than being another product of the Singularity, or a corrupted Servant of proper history like Jalter

Thetis is way more powerful than she ought to be; eventually seals off her and Rea from all the Servants with her Noble Phantasm; Chaldea staff fucking going as fast as they can trying to force a Rayshift, either to get Rea out or other Servants where they can get to her

Thetis decides to smack down with Rea one and one, going for flow and brutal instead of instant ko

Her ranting includes poisonous and viscerally accurate [in their executions] insistences that they’re no different, and begins to use “we” not just for herself and Rea, but Thetis alone

Torture via attacking Rea’s crest directly? Probably

“Why! Won’t! You! Break!”

Servants break through the barrier just enough for Scathach to launch her god-killer Gae Bolg, and it’s a direct hit

...To Thetis’s illusion, but it’s still fatal.

To both of them

Thetis’s illusions morphing others’ perception of where BOTH of them were/are

Thetis’s hysteria turns gleeful, because See? See? See what being kind gets you, gIrL?

Everyone’s screaming freaking out, ALL the healers rushing in both past Thetis’s shattered barrier and via Rayshift

Scathach isn’t surprised, tight though her features are

Rea’s stabilized/saved, not via her Servant’s capabilities (a human receiving a Gae Bolg through the chest, after all), but via a Pseudo-Servant / fusion of her own

it’s og/Caster Thetis, able to do so via Thetis Alter’s spirit origin serving as a ‘beacon’/catalyst

Gg great job Rea gets taken home n healed into infinity n rests for a fucking month bc, jesus

They leave the Singularity’s with little more than a pool of blood at its heart: the island of Leuke in the Black Sea, the final resting placing of Achilles

CONCLUSIONS & FORESHADOWINGS:

Thetis (Avenger) was not just an alter of og/history’s Thetis, but Rea herself; in a worldline where Thetis massacred Troy et al for the death of her son, millennia later Riel Rodas would ‘break’ herself to unknown tragedy and call Thetis (Avenger) to her to become a Pseudo-Servant

Thetis was not just a water goddess but creator goddess, either pre-dating Chaos or an incarnation of Chaos itself (hence her ability to create a 100% fabricated Singularity); used the Holy Grail as an ‘anchor’ for it instead, trying to revive her dead son by avoiding the first of her tragedies and the root of his death in the first place: his having a mortal father

Rea herself is implicitly way more fucked up internally?? Since she knows Thetis (Alter) wasn’t a 100% divorced being from herself, despite others’ insistences

Scathach hiding for a long hot sec n Rea doing her damnedest to defuse the situation; she Knew that was how it needed to happen, or else either Rea would’ve either been killed by Thetis outright, or Thetis would’ve wrecked untold havoc onto them beyond the Singularity (including Rea’s death, as ever)

Tl;dr their first Lostbelt before they knew lostbelts are a thing </3

Myrmidon servants not mistaking Rea for Thetis not just bc of sameface, but same ‘core’ due to Thetis (also) being ‘Rea’ (rather than 100% Thetis just using her as a vessel)

Romani sweating bc haha! wow! human and also a Servant but also it’s Complicated, anyway--

Possible similar hats with the Foreign God? depending on their motivations

MISC & FUN FACTS

Congrats on Rea Suddenly Being Ur Mom, Achilles. It’s weird for her too but also Blz remember to get to bed on time--

Chaldea Chiron is. so very very sorry for his Singularity’s counterparts actions

Also, no one tell Achilles Chiron’s technically arguably actually his step-dad (aka he and og Thetis had a thing in actual history too)

Awkward? Awkward.

Reamom subverse (wherein she’s pre-existing Chaldea staff turned Master to save Ritsuka the burden of it, despite her Crest bs complications), Ritsuka suddenly contemplates if they have an HR

(Also (still reamom subverse) everyone is staring at Romani even harder to Do Something Already, god dammit; youve been in a mutual uwu-ance w her for twelve years and a SINGULARITY SERVANT kisses her first?)

‘Canon’/sans-Rea verse, Thetis (Alter) is still Rea (Alter); barring the Reaface!Thetis confusion and the personal mauling & murder of the Chaldea Master, it’s tl;dr the same! It’s no longer Personal(tm) and they just take out Thetis like a ‘normal’ final boss vs her hurting the Master proper (nvm inducing Pseudo-Servanthood)

Thetis’s powerset includes shapeshifting, which is now Rea’s powersets, aka cue shapeshifting Crash Course courtesy of Enkidu. it’s fine

Lygiron/God/King!Achilles is an Archer (a class he can’t even normally qualify for bc... it’s not proper human history Achilles), courtesy of Dad-Chiron, though he qualifies for lots of classes. Maybe Ruler? lol

Servant Patroclus is a Saber :] bc he’s weak to Lygiron/Myrmidon!Achilles, but strong against PHH Achilles’s lancer qualification (ie. “he’s achilles’s weakness”)

It’s long af but if you want an idea of Thetis (Alter)’s alternate history and the sorta shit Psuedo-Servant Thetis!Rea (og/Caster) gets, there’s Realter’s page. Barring the NP tied to her unique history (aka slaughtering Troy herself), it’s all shit she could Potentially do herself.

Atlantis/Olympus Singularity gets uh. gets uh. well it doesn’t end different but gd the vibes are So Fucking Off w Chaos just beyond the veil and Rea as a pseudo-servant of its incarnation (and not just bc that makes her all these machine god fuckers’ grandma)

#mun babbles //#about // realter #god idk how to tag this i just KISS KISS KISS !!!!!!!#long post //#ik its under read more but it is . LONG!!!!!!! :]#(sorta)#about // rea

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moonrisecalamityretreat · 1 year

Text

Danse Macabre | CH4 Exection

Goodbyes are harder when you know they’re coming, and the hand of time is merciless. It feels like you barely get any time at all to say something to Hotaru, before the bunnies hop down from their podium.

“Okie dokie, that’s enough! We got a lot to get on the road, y’know! So many exciting things~... Sowwy you won’t be there for them, Hotawu!”

“Have a nice death!”

The floor behind her opens, and the bunnies take her by the arms and drag her in. Once again, you’re forced to watch as someone is executed. You can close your eyes, but you’ll always be able to hear it.

It’s completely dark when she opens her eyes after the fall, preventing anyone else from seeing her at first. Hotaru herself catches little glimmers of light in what must be...reflections? She doesn’t have long to think about it before the room lights up, and she realizes she’s been dropped into a hall of mirrors. Floor to ceiling, as far as the eye can see, her reflections stare back at her.

Which is not how mirrors work, Hotaru realizes, as she strides forward. There’s nowhere else to go, but there doesn’t seem to be any pressure either. She takes her time, prying at some of the edges for potential ways out, and when that fails...

True to form, she resorts to wiping her eyes, checking her makeup, practicing her smile. This is her last performance after all.

After about a minute of walking she comes to a door. Hotaru takes a deep breath, bracing herself, before walking inside.

She knows this place.

A rehearsal room. The familiar wooden floors and the equipment and the mirrors on the wall across from her are all what you’d expect from your standard ballet studio. It’s not the one from back home, though. She’d expect them to really go for that ironic punch.

The mirror across is what she eventually focuses on – unlike every other mirror, the reflection in this one is too blurry to make out. Hotaru narrows her eyes, stepping closer.

As soon as she makes contact with the wood, the reflection jolts into first position, Hotaru’s body seemingly compelled to mimic it. Confusion flickers across her features as she tries to readjust, but her limbs don’t obey her. From the speakers overhead, music begins to play. It’s a familiar song, her always beloved Swan Lake. The reflection starts to dance the routine, and Hotaru is forced to follow.

It hurts. The flats she’s been wearing do fine for the desert, but every time she goes en pointe she has to fight back a wince. Still, it’s not so bad. For an execution, this isn’t even so painful. Though she can’t move, her eyes dart back and forth as she looks for the catch. There has to be a catch.

The reflection dances all the way to the barre – or the reflection of the barre – and now that they’re finally face to face, Hotaru can make out the features exactly. Her eyes widen in horror.

The reflection is not her. Golden eyes to her green and violet hair to her black. Some of those watching may remember this as the girl from the cardboard cutouts.

She...She remembers now. When she was...she was sick and she saw this in the mirror before she grabbed a knife and –

She lets out a strangled sob, but she doesn’t get to react much further before the reflection launches back into the dance. The music picks up in intensity and speed as both dancers go back and forth through the room. She grits her teeth, but Hotaru keeps up the work. Her eyes flicker towards the mirror as the music builds to its crescendo. Her sister looks so happy, so oblivious. Hotaru wishes she could say the same.

Finally the music and the dancers both stop. Everything is normal and quiet. The door to the room – both in the reflection and in the real world - flies open as a gun emerges from the darkness. Her sister whirls around to face him and Hotaru is forced to follow. She can just make out the shine of a Hope’s Peak Academy pin glinting in the light.

Right. Her sister…she never saw the body but they said she was shot –

The bullet strikes through both women, directly in their stomach. Hotaru gasps, too shocked to even really register the pain, glancing behind her to watch her sister cover her stomach as Hotaru moves to do the same.

The blood oozes through her dress, the white fabric quickly staining as she slumps against the mirror, staring into the darkness of the door.

As she lays there bleeding out, her thoughts are not of family or dancing or the pain, but that even this execution is tainted by being all about her sister, that this is not even about Hotaru herself but about the so-call tragedy that befell her family, that –

No.

She won’t let this be the last thing she feels. Hatred is too easy to feel as a last emotion. She closes her eyes. Lets her mind drift to all the people who have loved her, alive or dead. Of all the people that looked out for her and made every moment worth it.

And though she sheds a few tears, with a smile on her face:

Hotaru Doigawa has been executed.

#ch4

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marvelfanfics1 · 2 years

Text

"Can I hold him?"

(GIF not mine)

Summary: Its early on in the little and cg's relationship, little has gone to the cg's place many times before but cg has never been over to the littles apartment so cg comes over and little is all excited to show off all their stuffys, after half of them it loos like cg isn't interested in knowing their names and so little one stops talking and drops their head cg asks why and little says sorry for talking too much and cg points out "i wasnt upset i just got distracted by the giant blue dragon squishmallow in the corner, can i hug him?"

Warnings: Age Regression, fluff

A/N: That would be such a Daddy!Peter thing 😍😩

⭒𖥸⭒

You were extremely excited now. Peter is going to come to your apartment for the first time and you want everything to be perfect.

You and Peter got together a few months ago and you would trust him with your life. You have been to his flat every time, but Peter asked if he could see your apartment too and you agreed.

You cleaned everything, especially your playroom, and sorted everything. When you heard the ring of the doorbell, your nerves grew and a smile appeared on your face.

You opened the door and let yourself fall in Peter's arms. He caught you with an 'oof' and dragged you back inside.

"Hello to you too, Babygirl" he smiled and kissed your head.

"Hi, Daddy. Come, have much to show you" you grinned and grabbed his hand, leading him through your small apartment.

When you reached your playroom you gnawed on your fingers nervously about how he would react.

"Wow, it's beautiful. Did you decorate it yourself?" he asked and you nod.

"Ouu, you have gotta meet ma stuffies!" you got to a corner of the room, there was a mountain of squishmellows and you sat down with your legs crossed.

Peter walked over to you and sat in front of you, while you grabbed some stuffies.

Time goes by and you really showed him every stuffie you owned and told him their names.

"And this is..." you trailed off when you noticed how quiet Peter was and it looked like he wasn't paying attention. So, you decide to stop talking and give him a break.

"Why did you stop, baby?" he asked you you fiddled with one of the squishmellows.

"talkin' too much, 'M sowwy" you mumbled and Peter scooted closer to you.

"No, no, I'm not mad in any way. I just got distracted by the big blue Dragon squishmellow there. Can I hold him?" he pointed at the biggest one and you lifted your head. You nod and got it for him, smiling a little bit.

"You like him?" you asked quietly and he nod.

"I love him. What's his name?"

"Peter" you whispered blushing and he smiled brightly, taking your hand and pulling you on his lap.

"I love you so much, Babygirl"

⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

@marvelsguantletkeeper @my-river-lilly @canned-rootbeer @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog

#little!reader #little reader #daddy peter parker #daddy!peter parker #daddy peter #daddy!peter x little!reader #daddy!peter #daddy peter parker x little reader #daddy!peter parker x little!reader

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introloves · 4 years

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Aone having a FAT crush on a tiny quiet barista at his new favorite cafe, they’ve memorized his order and even makes sure to keep his favorite seat open every morning for him- maybe they go to his school too but they never really talk? They kinda smile at him and wave in the hallways but never talk?

THIS IS SO CUTEEEE!!!!! nd bc im me i turned it into smut :( sowwy

— first times + big dick aone, embarrassed abt his size + size kink + brief summary of aone x reader’s relationship before we get to the smut + hard smut towards the end + f! reader

he wouldn’t say anything, he couldn’t say anything but you’d know by the way he he’s always mumbling when he gets to the counter, eyes shying away from your own, hands shaky everytime he’d hand you money, 2.25, every morning for his favorite cup of tea.

it’d always take you a couple seconds to put yourself back together, your own shaky hands tenaciously putting together his drink, perhaps making it with extra care.

he’d usually come alone, but on rare days there’d be a couple other faces. one in particular with brown sleek hair, would push him to mumble out words other than, ‘thank you’.

the teasing laughter and bright red coloring to his face was a dead giveaway. you’d only mess with your friends like this if there was crushing involved.

it’d make you burn up at the thought that he had a crush on you, he’s so big and intimidating and at first you’d have your guard up everytime he stepped inside, a looming presence not hard to notice.

but as the days went by, you’d see how much care he’d put into things. he’d take time to clean up his booth, make sure to recycle his cup, and always shyly nod his head towards you in a silent goodbye. on days where he feels especially brave, aone leaves a flower, one that he thinks most closely resembles your beauty.

on those days, when its your turn to clean the tables and you see a single, delicately picked flower, your heart thumps loudly in your chest.

you’d started falling for him before long.

and of course the dating starts shortly after.

you swear you’ve never felt love before him. he’s everything you needed, a nice security in an otherwise tumultuous and very scary world.

he holds you with arms that are twice as thick as yours, could squeeze you tight enough to hurt so very easy, but instead cradles you to sleep with so much care.

hands that work tirelessly, calloused, veiny and wide touch your face with a delicacy that doesn’t come naturally to someone of his size. he works at it, works at making sure he’s careful.

and you appreciate it, you do, but when you see him open jars for you with ease, reach over your head to pluck whatever you need from the top of shelves in stores, pick you up with no groan or strain, it makes your mind wander.

everything with him is so easy, so you don’t know why, when you’re slick between the thighs, throbbing with want for him, he makes it so hard.

he refuses your advances, pulls you off with a sad smile and jumbled words of,

“he’s not ready.” when you can clearly see he’s hard behind his pants.

it makes you cry, wondering if you’re not good enough. was the flustered flirting, kisses, and confession all just a big joke?

your tears break him, he hurriedly explains that it’s him. he won’t hurt you, can’t, refuses to.

“what are you talking about.” you hiccup, whipping away the tears.

“i just...” he sighs, running a palm down his face.

“i’m too big.”

your jaw nearly drops at that. the heat of embarrassment and lick of something hotter burns at your neck and tummy.

you’ve never heard or seen a man shy away because of his size, usually they boast and brag and have very little to boast and brag about.

you tell him it doesn’t matter, you want him. eyes wide and pleading, hoping he doesn’t shy away because you want him so bad.

his resolution is broken, he’s attracted to you after all. but you’re so small, so cute and plush and curvy in all the places he wants to sink his fingers into.

“i’ll be gentle.” he thinks when he finally grabs you, pulling you onto his lap.

he doesn’t miss the way your mouth shuts closed when you feel him, hips giving a small push against him to make sure you aren’t imagining him like this.

the kissing starts, fevered lips painting eachother in spit, shy moans leave the both of you.

foreplay is skipped, you’ve both held back long enough, and you wouldn’t let him anyways.

“not a good idea.” aone mumbles, but you don’t listen. you want him now.

one again you push at his weak spots, everything he does, he does to please you. but you make it seem that it’s quite the opposite, you want what he wants.

and aone is anything but an aroused man with a cute, soft, tiny girlfriend beneath him.

the first meeting of his cockhead against your leaking, twitching hole has him clench his teeth, hand placed heavy over your tummy to still your hips.

“it’s going to hurt.” he reminds you, but you still don’t care.

“i want you.” you breathe, it makes him hiss.

there were many steps you’d both taken together to get where you were.

from the first time he saw you at the café, bustling around with a smile that tugged at his heart, to a couple minutes ago, when you panted wantonly into his ear about how much you fantasized of him burying himself in you to the hilt, watching your eyes roll back as he pushes in is his favorite so far.

he’s not that expirienced, but knows that the growing wetness dripping onto his thighs with every squelch of your pussy as he sinks in is a good sign.

“g-god. nobu, you’re so big.” you chant.

he knows, he warned you.

but it’s not a bad thing, he thinks, because with just a few pumps in, the stretch he gives you, along with hips brushing against your clit, you’re already creaming around him.

he doesn’t blink the whole time you do, zeroed in on the shake of your thighs, fat squishing him against you, pussy equally trying to milk him of his own.

he thinks the best thing to do is to stay still and wait until you’re okay.

aone knows you are when the talk starts back up.

you can see the sweat glisten against his chest, you know he’s holding back, giving you shy thrusts once more.

it’s good, the same shy, tentative thrusts just made you cum so hard you couldn’t hear for a second, but there’s a hint of raw power he’s holding back.

“takanobu.” you call to him with a shaky voice.

he responds with a worried glance.

“use me.”

he looks at you in disbelief,

“n-no. i’ll hurt you.”

your hips rut, swiveling around the very hard cock of him in absolute desperation.

“i want you to hurt me.” you say. and he sees red.

there’s a tinge of fear at the hardened gaze he gives you, he moves you with an ease, making a show to grab your hips in both hands, lifting you off the bed as he kneels down.

he does as he’s told, moving you how he wants, impaling you down on his big cock over and over, watching the soft parts of you jiggle with the intensity of it, meeting the fat of your ass and thighs with harsh slaps. he digs already darkening splotches the shape of his nails into you.

you can do nothing but scream, trying to hold on to the bed so you don’t slam into the creaking headboard. but you don’t really have to worry, even now he makes sure to keep you from moving away from his pounding.

you can’t feel your legs with the second orgasm that takes you, knees lock and pussy once again creaming all over him while he drills into you.

this is what you wanted, your own pleasure being driven by aone. just like everything else, he makes sure to take care of you so good, your cunt numb and fucked open by the time he’s done.

he pulls out to cum all over your pussy, there’s so much.

he finally comes back to you with a noise that sounds apologetic.

“i’m sor-“ you cut him off before he can say anything, grabbing his face in both hands with shaky arms thanks to him.

“don’t.” you begin, telling him that it’s okay to not be careful, something he’s always been.

you let him know that with you, he doesn’t have to tip toe, that in the safety the two of your shared, he was free to do everything those who didn’t know him whispered about him. he was allowed to be mean, allowed to use those muscles he’s built, allowed to be scary.

finishing with a kiss to his lips,

you’ve loved him since he left you flowers at work, and you’d still love him even after drilling your pussy into submission.

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years

Text

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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