#Hiya! This is perfectly fine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rinhaler · 6 months ago

Note

😩🤌 HOLD OOOOON JEALOUS UNCLE SUKUNA PLEASE? Extra Rough with a Sprinkle of loving

I got carried away but when don't I get carried away tbh also this is super icky sorry in advance hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest, kinda cheating?, vaginal penetration, anal mention/slight teasing, degradation, pet names, jealousy, possessiveness, hair pulling, spanking, squirting, creampie.

words: 4.3k

There are eyes on you that you don’t feel. For the first time in your life, you don’t feel them. You’re engrossed in your phone as you swing gently in the hammock chair on your porch. The one that’s been continuously taken care of and maintained by him.

He watches you as you smile and bite your lip, your thumbs moving a mile a minute as you send reply after reply and wait with bated breath for a response in return. Even clearing his throat does little good. Is he really so invisible to you, now?

“Who is he?” he asks, muttering to your younger brother as he stands at the entry gate in your front yard. Your brother is confused, unsure of who he’s talking about. He looks around, until Sukuna looks at him directly. “You aren’t that stupid, are you? Look at her. Who’s the idiot she’s texting?”

Your brother looks in your direction, the cogs coming to life in his brain as he realises what he’s talking about. He smiles at him, but it soon fades as he sees your uncles disgruntled expression.

“Oh, she’s been bringing this guy around a lot called Megumi but she keeps saying they’re just friends. We all think it’s bullshit but��”

“That’s enough.” he groans. He puts his finger and thumb into his mouth and whistles loudly. Your eyes dart up from your phone, your giddy expression soon changes to one of surprise. “Hiya, princess.” he greets you, disappointed expression unchanging.

You get up from your seat, dropping your phone, and walk over to him. Even with both of his hands filled with gift bags, he wraps one around you and holds the small of your back. He kisses your cheek sweetly, pulling away to look at you properly.

“You’re getting prettier by the day, sweetheart.” he finally smiles. “You should drop out and become a model.”

“Looks fade, uncle Ryo, I’ll be a lawyer ‘til I’m old and grey.” you smirk. “You got us gifts again? You didn’t have to.”

“Speak for yourself.” Yuuji mumbles as he walks by you and into the house.

Your uncle shakes his head at him, a warm smile returning to him as he looks at you. You allow him to guide you inside, your phone a distant memory while his hand holds your shoulder.

You join Yuuji in the front room, sitting beside him on the couch while your uncle places the bags in front of you both. He sits nearby, in your dad’s old chair, while he watches you both sift through your gifts.

Well, you assume he’s watching you both. But those ruby eyes of his remain perfectly fixed on you. They wander to Yuuji every so often when he expresses gratitude for the gifts he’s received, but all he cares about, truly, is you.

“Is this a new laptop?” you ask, jaw almost dropping to the floor as you see it. “This must have cost a fortune. You didn’t have to do this.” you smile.

“It’s fine, I got you both one. What’s the point of my sister having kids if I can’t spoil them? Where is she, by the way?”

“Wait,” you stop him as you go through the rest of your gifts. “New stationary, bags, files. You got me all of this stuff for college? Thank you.” you beam. You jump up and sit in his lap, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing tightly, the intensity makes him wonder if you’ll ever let go.

Unfortunately for him, you do.

“She texted me a few minutes ago saying they’ve changed her shift and she won’t be back until late.” Yuuji says nonchalantly as he continues looking through his stuff.

“What?! She said she’d give me a ride tonight. I’m gonna have to get a taxi, where’s my phone?” you ask, leaping up from your seat in your uncle’s lap as you check all of your pockets. You head towards the front door to check the last place you’d been with it, when you suddenly feel his hand encase your wrist.

“Talk to me.”

“She’s meant to be taking me to the movies for my d- uh, I’m meeting a friend.” you explain.

“Boyfriend, you mean.” Yuuji mumbles before coughing loudly to cover up his comment.

“Shut up.” you snap back. “But I’m gonna have to book a taxi and start getting ready now in case I’m late. Thanks for the gifts, uncle Ryo.” you smile as you turn away to leave. But he squeezes your wrist hard, pulling you back to him.

“I’ll take you. Alright?” he tells you. “Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Really?” you smile. “Thank you.”

“… What are uncles for, hm?”

Hours pass, time spent doing your makeup and choosing an outfit with texts sent to Megumi in between. Sukuna’s foot has been tapping incessantly as he waits for you, resisting the urge to check in on you every five minutes. He’d give anything to be in your room while you dress, allowing him to approve of your attire.

But instead, you appear hours later in a pair of shorts that would make him lose control in his younger years, but even now, he feels stirring in his slacks. A slight tightening that he’s fighting to ignore.

“Not leaving anything to the imagination, are you?” he grumbles, looking you up and down. You’re too irritated by his comment to notice the fact his eyes linger on your bare midsection and rake over your chest. Your little crop top almost looks too small for you, to him, with the way it accentuates your tits. “It’s a bit much for a movie.”

“Don’t start, I’m not changing. It’s so hot out I just wanna be comfy. Can we go?”

“Move, then.” he scowls.

You scoff, walking out ahead of him. He watches as you walk away before trailing after you. You’re mistaking his rage for sulking. You’ve never seen your uncle angry, not really.

If only you knew, he’s seething.

You spend twenty minutes in the car with him, panicking that you’re going to be late. You’d hate to picture Megumi there, waiting for you all on his own. You’ve texted him a few times to let him know you’re on your way, but you’re yet to hear back from him.

“Can you, like, do something?!” you ask before gluing your eyes back to your phone.

“What?” your uncle responds, teeth clenched as he looks over to you. His anger brewing further as he sees Megumi’s name with a bunch of heart emojis at the top of your phone. “Should I pick up the car and carry you it through the streets for you, darlin’?”

“If it’ll get us there faster, yes.”

“Tch.” he scoffs. “You know the world won’t end if you put your phone down for five minutes.”

“I’m letting him know I’m gonna be late! Is that alright with you?!”

“Him. The boyfriend, not friend. You lied.” and before he can stop himself, he speaks without thinking. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Your eyes widen at his words. And you can’t decide if you’re furious or devastated. Ashamed? Is he ashamed of you? You don’t know why he would be. He’s never said anything so mean to you before. In fact, you don’t think he’s ever said anything cruel to you in your life.

“What’s your problem?” you speak, your volume a little louder than intended.

“You are. I don’t even recognise you. Throwing yourself at college boys and dressing like a little slut. I thought I brought you up better than that.”

“You didn’t bring me up. Just because you visit with gifts every few months doesn’t mean you’re my fucking dad, Ryo. You’re barely an uncle.” you bite back. There’s more you could say, but you’re silenced by an incoming text from Megumi. “FUCK! I’m so stupid. Take me home, I got the time wrong.”

He grunts, turning the car around roughly before he parks down a nearby alleyway.

“Get out.” he orders.

“Huh?”

“Get out of my car, princess. You think you can disrespect me like that in my own fucking car? Get out and call a cab.”

Your heart sinks when you realise he’s far from joking. He actually wants you to get out of his car. In fact, he’s waiting for it. It’s hard to know if it’s genuine, if he’s legitimately planning on leaving you in a creepy alleyway all on your own and driving away. You hope he’s just trying to scare you, but the air is getting thicker.

His stare becomes harsher.

Your heart beats faster.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disrespect you…” you pout. “Don’t make me get out, please. You’ve been so… off with me today. And I’m embarrassed I got the time of this date wrong and—”

“So it is a date after all, huh?” he sighs.

“We’re, ugh, we’re friends but—” you cover your face in embarrassment. “We keep talking about taking things further, but it’s just a movie I don’t know if it’s a date. Maybe we’re just gonna be friends forever and he isn’t interested at all.” and with that, you’re officially sulking, humiliated that you spilt your little secret to your uncle of all people. You feel his eyes on you, but you don’t want to look.

If they’re the same harsh eyes that told you he’s ashamed, you don’t want to see them ever again.

“Is that why you’re dressed like an easy whore tonight? Hah? Thought he’d be more interested if you put more on show.”

“Why are you being such a dick?!” you yell. The silence is too much, his bewildered face catches you off guard. It’s like he hadn’t expected you to raise your voice. You both maintain your silence, equally at a loss for words. But it goes on too long, and unintentionally, you feel the need to fill it. “What, are you jealous? Bet it’s been a while since you got any action, old man.”

“Old?” he scoffs. “What are you talking about, action? You wouldn’t do that… would you?” he asks, there’s venom coating his tongue, but it’s overridden by curiosity.

“Why do you think I dressed like such a… ‘little slut’, huh?” you laugh as his expression changes once again, he’s uncomfortable, so you decide to poke the beast. “We got seats in the back row… I don’t even care about the movie, it’s just an excuse to put our hands down each other’s pants.”

“That’s enough.”

“Why?”

You watch him as he unbuckles his seatbelt with haste. If you had blinked you would have missed it, and it’s not long before he does the same to yours. You’re weightless as he pulls you from your seat and into his lap, a few pathetic ‘ow’s’ leave your lips as he positions you over him.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, a combination of worry and curiosity overwhelming you.

“You really wanna get felt up at the movies by a little college boy? How pathetic you are… I thought you were better than that.” you’re too stunned to speak as his words consume you. Has he always been so protective of you? Has he always had this side to him? You don’t want to move. You barely want to think in case he doesn’t like how your thoughts sound. You gulp, nervously, and he smirks in amusement.

His fingers trail lightly across your chin before he holds it carefully between his thumb and forefinger. He licks his lips as his eyes examine your features. There is hunger in his ruby irises, a starved man sizing up the meal he’s worked so hard for.

But he’s patient.

He thinks it’ll be fine, nothing he does will make you object.

Though he can’t be too careful. So he proceeds with caution, allowing his fingers to carry on tracing downwards. Your wide eyes turn to a heavy lidded gaze as you feel the pads of his fingers softly dance across the column of your neck. His eyes follow the path they take, looking up once or twice to make sure you still aren’t opposed to his touch.

You gulp, again, when you feel him touch atop your breasts, and his eyes stay fixed on yours for a moment longer. But he’s greedy, now, unable to withstand the growing bulge in his pants or the thoughts he has about you in order to cure him.

He hooks his index finger into the low scoop of your crop top and pulls downwards. You’re unable to stop yourself from shuddering, and he looks up at you with a sympathetic stare.

“This is… wrong.” you speak, a slight whimper in your voice.

He grins, though he tries to hide it from you.

“How can it be wrong, sweetheart?” he asks. He holds your hips in heavy hands and pushes you down onto his clothed erection. “Feel how good you make me feel? Let me make you feel good, too. Megumi won’t satisfy you, I promise you that.”

“Ryo…” you sigh, soon stifled as he helps you roll your hips onto him. “It’s wrong… you know it is…”

“Well, maybe I don’t care,” he hisses, his cock leaking from the friction between you. He allows his head to droop back against the head rest behind him, smiling up at you as he realises you’re beginning to move all on your own. “I don’t think you do, either.”

Your eyes fill with water, and you bat your eyelashes in a bid to dismiss it. How did this happen? How did you get to this point? Maybe you’ve been waiting for Megumi for too long. Maybe some part of you knew you’d end up here with him. And maybe you want it just as much as he seems to.

“Naughty girl… give me a kiss,” he demands, fingers caressing the column of your spine before he pushes you down towards him.

A little whine escapes your lips before you submit to him. The feelings of his bulge nudging against your clit is enough to make you lose all sense. It’s clumsy and uncomfortable, a chaste kiss as if you were kissing your uncle turns into a sloppy, tongue tangling kiss as you soon dismiss that familial bond.

He pulls away, groaning slightly before he yanks down your crop top and exposes your bare tits.

His jaw tenses as he looks up at you again, as if he were withholding something he so desperately desired to say. But instead, he silences himself, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking experimentally.

Your eyes roll back into your head, your hand carding through tufts of pink hair. It’s been a while since you’d been intimate with anyone like this, the sensation making you weak and needy. The slightest touch feels enough to make you cum, though you hold back, savouring the way his hand holds your other breast and rolls your nipple between his finger and thumb.

You wonder if he sleeps around a lot, you wonder if he’s gotten laid recently. You want to know how good he is. You’ve heard from girlfriends that older men do it better, but you’ve never experimented so cavalierly, you wouldn’t even know where to meet one.

Little did you know you’ve had an older man vying for your attention all along.

“How do you like it?” he asks, breath fanning across your drool soaked tit before he swaps which one he suckles. You hiss a little as he grazes your perked nipple purposefully between his teeth.

“I— It’s good,” you say, shyly, body heating up further when you hear a small laugh leave his lips.

“No, baby. How do you like to fuck?” he asks again. You think you might pass out from the shame. Though it’s shameful enough that you’re allowing your uncle to suck your tits. You screw your eyes shut before opening them again, hoping that this could possibly be a bad dream you just need to wake up from. But he’s still there when you open your eyes, still looking up at you with a cocky grin as he observes your embarrassment consuming you.

“I don’t— I don’t really—”

“You’ve proven yourself to be a little slut, so you must have a preference. What happened to that mouth of yours, huh? You were so desperate to talk about your little classmate touching you up later.” he reminds you, and you pant from the humiliation. Any attempt to wriggle away is halted by him wrapping his arms around your torso and keeping your body glued to his. “How many little pricks have you let slut your cunt out, sweetheart?”

“Ryo…” you gasp, breathing becoming erratic. It’s too much, he chuckles as you start to fan yourself. “I don’t know anymore. I can’t think.” you explain.

“Have you lost count, princess? That’s disgusting, don’t you think?” he tuts, mock repulsion lacing his words. He only half means it. He’s disgusted that so many useless little boys have felt you wrapped around them without any inkling of how to truly satisfy you. “They don’t matter, now. No one will make you feel as good as I’m going to, you won’t want anyone else when I’m through.”

“This is… it’s a one time thing. Okay?” you tell him, and his smug smile only grows wider.

“We’ll see,” he starts, his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass as your shorts ride up. A pathetic yelp flees from you as his stinging palm lands on your body. “I don’t really care how you like it, I was just curious.”

“… how do you like it, Ryo?”

“It depends, princess.” he bites his lower lip. “But if it’s just this once, you’ll let me fuck you how I like. You’ll be a good girl for uncle Ryo, won’t you?”

You blink a few times. Are you really so easily manipulated? Are you really still grinding down on the throbbing bulge of your uncle? Your silence speaks volumes, to him. And with his patience wearing thin, you find yourself being thrown awkwardly into the back seat.

He takes a deep breath before stepping out, from behind the wheel and opening the back door.

You watch him as he unbuckles his belt, and he smiles when he notices you watching. He slows down the action, allowing you to savour the sight of him undressing. He stops after his cock springs free, slapping off his abdomen and leaving a pretty trail of pre on his pristine white shirt.

“Have you never seen a big dick before? You look scared.” He chuckles. You don’t say a word, and without realising you’re shaking your head. You thought you had, but apparently they were nothing in comparison to actual big dicks. You’re terrified, almost horrified, but you can’t look away.

Not until he tells you.

“Sluts take it from behind. Turn around.” he orders, and you immediately position yourself onto your hands and knees.

You squeal when his fingers curl into the waistband of your shorts and yank aggressively. He doesn’t pull them off, they remain around your thighs and keep your legs perfectly pressed together. His cock throbs at the sight, holding one of your ass cheeks and moving your lower half from side to side. You’d decided to forgo panties, and he couldn’t be happier.

The sight of your drooling cunt makes up for what has felt like an eternity of patience.

You scream, again, as you feel a multitude of spanks in quick succession. He thinks he might legitimately lose it at the sight of your holes clenching, and surprise rips through you as you feel a thumb pressed to your puckered hole. You cover your mouth to stop you from yelping at the unexpected touch, but he merely groans.

“Have you taken it here before?” he asks.

“… no… I h—aven’t,” you answer honestly. He hums in contemplation. He spits down onto your asshole and rubs his thumb across it gently.

“Next time, hm?” he muses to himself. Despite his words, he guides his cockhead to your tight hole. The thick tip rubbing teasingly against it. He doesn’t breach it, but the teasing alone feels pleasant. “I think you’ll like it…”

And with that, he moves from your rear entrance and plunges brutally into your drooling slot. You cry out, the unexpected entry taking you by surprise. He hushes and coos as your walls adjust to his girth.

The intensity of the pressure gives away to pleasure soon enough. Internally, he wants to be rough with you. He will be rough with you. However, he can’t ignore the fact that you are and always have been so precious to him. The thought of hurting you is hold him back.

But a deeper, darker part of him with a bruised ego overrides his conscience.

His fingers grab your hair harshly and wrap around his hand as if you were a dog on a leash. He pulls you until your back arches gloriously for him, and he uses the leverage to fuck into you harder.

He’s all too aware of the risks he’s taking. If anyone were to walk by they’d see exactly what he’s doing and has made no attempt to hide. Standing confidently outside the car with your ass on full display for anyone who’d dare to look. He could get arrested, your family could find out.

But it’s been too long of a wait for this taboo coupling for him to let something so trivial deter him from this. From you.

He’d like to hold off in favour of extending your pleasure. He’d like to see you cum and make a mess of his cock before he fills you to the brim with his creamy load. He’d like to see your pussy twitch and struggle to hold in his kids after he fucks them into you.

But he’s just a man, after all.

He doesn’t care if you cum anymore. He did, but this is for him. His heavy tip rocks repeatedly into your sweet spot and your raucous moans are bound to catch attention sooner or later. He’d love to stifle you in some matter, whether by covering your mouth or shoving his cock down your throat. But he can’t. His hands are still filled as one remains wrapped around your hair and the other keeps a bruising grasp on your hip.

He wants to tell you to shut up, he wants to tell you you’re being too loud and you’re soon to be spotted. But he can’t, he’s proud of you. Your pussy begins to suck him in and pulses around his thickness.

He chuckles and further fuels your shame as your pussy begins to gush from the pressure. Clear liquid jets out of you, dousing his cock, your shorts and his leather seats as you cum from the staggering sensation of being ploughed by your very own uncle.

The sight has him gritting his teeth as he uses your quivering cunt to reach his own satisfaction. His head falls back as he spurts stream after stream of viscous white cum into your womb. The warmth makes you hum contently, giggling as his movements slow, still determined to fuck his seed deep into you. He doesn’t even want to pull out, but the chill of the night air brings him to his senses.

You’ve been lucky to get away with this.

He pulls out, admiring the sight of his sperm dripping down into your shorts as he tucks himself away.

Your body is tired, but you find the strength to pull up your now soiled shorts before slowing making your way back to the passenger seat. You sigh, taking a few deep breaths as you contemplate what just happened.

“You look tired.” your uncle says casually as he starts up the car.

He’s right. You look at yourself in the mirror before you fold it back up, too disgusted with yourself to even look at how dishevelled and smeared your perfectly applied makeup has become. It’s all ruined. There’s no point in seeing Megumi, now. As excited as you were, you can’t go like this. You can’t let him see you like this.

Whenever you see someone walk by as your uncle drives you home, you can’t help but think they know. When your car stops at a red light, you think the people in the car beside you know. If you go and see Megumi tonight…

He’ll know.

YOU: sorry Megs, can we reschedule? My uncle just got to town x MEGUMI: of course. don’t worry about it, have fun with your uncle x

He reads your messages out of the corner of his eye, and does all he can to supress the satisfied smirk desperate to break out across his face. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife, he understands. You did something wrong. But that isn’t why it’s so quiet.

You’re quiet, and uncomfortable, because you liked it.

You can’t make eye contact with him, because you liked it.

And you can’t talk to him normally, because you want to do it again.

Your body language tells him all he needs to know. He’ll be in town for as long as you need to wrap your head around this. As long as you need to confess how desperately you desire him once more. It’ll only be one more time. Every time you tell him, beg him, crave him to make you feel good again, you’ll say it’s the last time.

But that one last time will never come.

Poor Megumi, he has no idea just how much fun your uncle intends to have with you.

1K notes · View notes

sevikasupremacy · 13 days ago

Note

Hiya I just started following you blog and love all of your works so I was wondering if I could request something. (This can be sfw or nsfw its completely up to you)

Sevika with a s/o who's quite girly and enjoys wearing dresses and skirts. (Basically the opposite of sevika). I think it sevika would be so cute with an opposites attract kinda s/o, and no one understands how they got together or even because they are so vastly different from one another but get along just fine.

(Obviously absolutely no pressure to write this and I hope your doing well)

Bye👋

Stop this is so adorable 🥺

Sevika With a Girly S/O

➼ Sevika’s intrigued honestly.

➼ Everyone knows that this woman right here is indeed intimidating. Well… not until she laid eyes on you.

➼ The first time you entered The Last Drop with that cute little skirt of yours, Sevika knew you were the one.

➼ You were just so… cute.

➼ And the way you looked over at her and smiled—

➼ She won’t admit it but she felt her heart melts

➼ Honestly no one expected it.

➼ You? The woman Sevika was in love with?

➼ Yep. That’s fucking right. And you should be proud to call this beautiful woman your girlfriend.

➼ Oh Sevika loves watching you try on your dresses. It’s like having a personal fashion show.

➼ “Spin around for me, Sweetheart. That’s right…Fuck you’re so beautiful.”

➼ She’ll pat her lap (your favorite seat) the moment she lays eyes on her favorite dress. She just loves to admire you up close.

➼ She likes feeling the soft fabric that was hugging your body perfectly. It was like every dress was made just for you.

➼ And because of your love for wearing dresses, she came up with a nickname just for you — and it was “Princess”

➼ Every time the two of you went out, Sevika made sure to keep an eye on you.

➼ And whenever anyone stops to look at you, she’ll immediately wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into a kiss.

➼ Sevika was proud to have you all to herself — and she will make everyone aware of it.

➼ But it was as if her gaze always soften whenever she looks at you.

➼ She’ll have this poker face throughout the day, but the moment you appear in front of her, she couldn’t help but smile.

➼ Sevika never understood how and why you were attracted to her in the first place.

➼ You were like a beautiful doll. A treasure that needs to be taken good care of. That was why Sevika was so gentle with you.

➼ She never used her mechanical arm on you just because she was scared to hurt or even scratch you. So whenever the two of you walked side by side, Sevika made sure you were on the side where her real arm was.

➼ “New dress? It’s perfect for you, Sweetheart. Do I like it? Oh I love it. You’re so beautiful, Princess.”

➼ “I’m so glad that you’re all mine.”

#arcane #arcane x reader #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika imagine #arcane fanfic #sevika x you #sevika x female reader #sevika x y/n

553 notes · View notes

imyourbratzdoll · 10 months ago

Text

𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - when the world was good, negan had always visited the strawberry shack after work and when the world ended, he didn't expect to find the place still up and running.

warning - smut, gloryhole, creampie, swearing, daddy kink, breeding kink.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Negan stared shocked at the building still standing as though it had never been touched by the apocalypse. The sign still flashing ‘The Strawberry Shack’, no sign of the dead around. He was brought back to when the world was fine when the dead didn’t walk. He remembered finding this place and heading inside, finding the perfect woman each time. That woman being you, you were the one he’d cheat on his wife with. You’d take away all his thoughts and feelings. He wondered if there was anyone inside, so with large strides, Negan heads toward the building and enters. Stopping short as he sees the same woman sitting at the front desk.

“Hiya hun, nice to see ya again. What would you like?” She taps her perfectly manicured nails against the counter, staring at him as she waits for his response.

“Sex, sugar. But I got no cash.” Negan watches, waiting to wake up and for this to be a dream.

The woman waves her hand, “Don’t worry, hun. It’s free of charge for our favourite customer.” She smirks, “You know where to go.” He nods, walking toward the door and he surveys the room. It seems that only one person is working, and he’d recognise that arse anywhere.

“I see you’re still working, sugar. Even with the hell going on outside.” He walks closer, eyes focused on how you clench around nothing at his voice. “How I’ve missed you. Shit.” He groans, feeling his cock harden and throb. Negan grabs the flesh of your arse, giving it a good squeeze before he reaches down and plays with your clit. “Fuck, sugar. You’re already so wet for me.” He leans Lucille against the wall as he reaches down, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants before pulling out his cock. Giving it a few strokes, watching precum leak for his swollen tip. “So, fucking hard for you.”

Negan lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down as he collects your juices before he slowly pushes into you. His eyes practically rolling to the back of his head, leaning one hand against the wall while the other grips your hips. “Jesus, sugar. You’re so fucking tight!” He groans, sliding deep inside of you before pulling back out and thrusting in, repeating the movements over and over. “Shit!” His balls slap against your clit, causing you to dig your nails into the bench beneath you, your walls tighten around him, sucking him in deeper.

Your moans fill the room alongside the slapping of skin, you wiggle your arse, pushing up against him, causing him to go deeper inside of you. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna let Daddy breed you, huh? Pump you full of my cum like before? You miss being full of me, sugar?” Negan’s words cause you to clench around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yes! Yes! Please breed me, Daddy! Pump me full!” You whine, your toes curl as you cum, coating Negan’s cock with your juices. He grips your hips harder, burying himself deeper inside of you as he cums, coating your walls with his white cream. You sag, sinking into the bench beneath you.

“Fuck me, sugar. That was the best fuck I’ve had in a long time. Might have to take you with me.” Negan groans as he gently pulls out of you, tucking his cock back into his jeans and pushing his cum that leaks from your cunt back in. You let out a huff, your lower half tingling. “I gotta go, sugar. I hope we meet again.” He pinches your cheek before grabbing Lucille, swinging his bat over his shoulder and walks off, giving the woman at the front desk a nod before leaving, heading back to his sanctuary.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

467 notes · View notes

serendippertyy · 6 months ago

Note

idk if ur still doing these but it doesmt hurt to ask i dont think. tho sorry in advance if uve gotten a lot of asks abt this specific thing on the chart AHSDFJ

for e4 id love 2 see ur take on a twijack or flutterjack kid,,,,,,,,,,,,blinks at yuo

HIYA MOOT!! I am perfectly fine with doing lil next gen exercises for sure! here's some horsies, the flutterjack one being a design that I've been thinking abt but never got around to actually drawing 😅💗

#these r kinda rushed i doodele em while waiting for something in the oven LOLL #i lov them actually 🫶#my little pony #mlp #mlp fim #my little pony friendship is magic #mlp fanart #twijack #appleshy #mlp next generation #mlp next gen #next gen #fankid #asks #my art

362 notes · View notes

muffinsin · 1 month ago

Note

hiya muffin!

i was wondering, if you havent done this prompt before, you would write something about the dimitrescus dating a strongwoman-type reader? Like, big, tall, throw-you-over-her-shoulder typa gal. If you dont write specific genders thats fine too ‼️‼️ Im just very self-indulgent, as someone whos RE8 oc is built like a TANK. 😓

thank you for your time. Stay peachy! 👽

Oh? Absolutely!👀👀! I write for female and neutral readers, so you’re all good! :) I think I’ll have to check out your OC sometime then! Very much of a fan of..buff…women…😋

Kept a lot of littler HCs in these to add a bit variety to it!🙇‍♀️👀

Let’s get into it :)

Masterlists

Bela

With Bela by your side, it becomes very clear that there are two types of physical strength in people at the castle

The type you possess

And the type she wields

Her, wielding unnatural strength gifted by the cadou infecting her

And still, physically speaking, Bela is rather petite, with no visible muscles, only soft skin and an overall rather skinny build, little body fat or muscles seen

You, on the other hand, are almost a direct opposite to this

While being incredibly strong for someone from the remote village, you certainly also look it, unlike your girlfriend

And poor Bela just about melts at this

Feeling your strength and seeing the muscles proving it are incredible exciting to her

She likes to cling onto your arms when you walk

When you suddenly flex them, you often manage to pull a gasp from her

Unfortunately, she manages to stay quiet sometimes, only straightening up adorably and holding on a little tighter

When you cuddle, Bela loves to be held by you, to feel your frame against hers, to hide away from her responsibilities for just a little while

While she won’t ever admit it, she feels so safe around you, extra much so due to your height and strength

Somehow, it helps her feel almost small, looked after

A break from being the coolheaded heiress. The cunning huntress. The eldest sister forced to manage her younger sisters day after day

A break from being the strong one, the responsible one

Simply to be Bela, Bela, who is wrapped up in your arms, held tight, comforted

Often she will hold onto your strong shoulders then, or wrap herself around your upper body all together

Of course your girlfriend enjoys different portrays of your strength, too

When you occasionally quite literally pick her up, you always bring a squeak from her thick lips

Always, without fail. You love it

No matter how long she’s with you, she will never get used to that

You wouldn’t think she is used to it, her tall physique and overall cannibalistic and dangerous nature not quite- well- inviting one to pick her up like she weighs nothing

Funnily enough, you find Bela does weigh very little, being made of a swarm of flies

She’ll hold onto you tight, blush adorably as she’s carried

When she feels particularly comfortable, perhaps even somewhat carefree, she’ll giggle when you pick her up

Often, you find yourself picking her up and slinging her over your shoulder when she overworks herself yet again

She’s whine and giggle, insist she has things to get done

Both of you know it’s a losing battle anyway, for she too craves the comfort you offer her

Another time you display your strength is by purposefully showing off

Such as when she looks around her room for her sickle, usually whenever some foolish maid dared “clean” her perfectly organized room or one of her sisters went through it to find something

You like displaying your strenght by easily picking some of the furniture or items up for her as you help her look

When feeling playful, you pick her up entirely, drawing giggles from her when you claim “nope, not under here!”

You’re happy you’re one of the rare people to make her laugh

Cassandra

Cassandra is considered the strongest individual at the castle, and has been for a long time

Well, aside Alcina, that is

Still, she takes pride in being the strongest among her sisters, the most efficient killer and huntress

You don’t change this, necessarily

But, you easily become one of the, if not the strongest mortals at the castle

And as such, with your height and strength, you stand out

In the beginning, you think Cassandra must hate you

She bothers you each day, digs her nails into you and scratches, bites and giggles your ears off

She’s a nuisance, even reduces the time spent in her precious torture chambers if only to annoy you a little more

Soon, you find out;

No, she does not hate you

In fact, it couldn’t be any more wrong to assume so

No, strong, evil, sadistic Cassie has a crush

Someone to match her, perhaps?

She’s excited at the thought

She tests you, you find soon, seeing just how much she can toy with you before you snap

Ever trying to fluster you with hot, open mouthed bites along your skin and back, you eventually think to even the field

Now, acting against Cassandra can certainly to a quick death sentence and a drawn out, torturous death below the castle grounds

Alas, you know: Cassandra is playing a game

She wants you to join in, to receprocate

Bored of the average staff members surrounding you, the playful brat wants a challenge

One only you can give her

So, the next time she gets near, trails her sharp fingernails along your arms and moves in to bite yet again, you strike

“EAA!”

You didn’t think you could make the fear-inspiring, brutal, nightmarish Cassandra Dimitrescu squeak, but find it’s an utterly adorable sound

Thrown over your shoulder easily, Cassandra hammers with closed fists against your back, squirming and kicking to be let down again

You deny her this

After all, if she truly wanted it, she would free herself from your grasp

You’ve seen it a hundred times before, how she slips from intruders and predators by turning into a deadly swarm of flies piercing its skin

Or her pool of strength, even, which she doesn’t seem to even dip into as she hammers her fists weakly against your back, careful she doesn’t cause any serious damage

It’s a game of play-pretend, her protests loud while a large smile is on her face

You dare interact with her, even dare to push and pull playfully. You indulge her

She likes you

Over the course of weeks, she keeps on doing the same, biting and teasing you only to end up surprised when you push back, grabbing her and throwing her light, but muscular body across your shoulder or holding her and carrying her by your hip as you work

The two of you enjoy your game, the playful bickering, the little wounds inflicted that you know she loves to see on your skin

Soon, she makes the first step, once at last swarming from your grasp to plant her lips against yours

Eager, you reciprocated, not about to let the opportunity pass

Neither of you feel the need to take your time, and quickly a kiss blooms into a relationship of playfulness, affection, pain and pleasures

You find, she enjoys how you catch her off guard when she’s about to fight you and is thrown over your shoulder easily

Even if it does earn you a few bites along your back

While she never quite uses her full strength on you, knowing it would shatter your bones and tear your skin like paper, she does like to bite and scratch, giggling when you reach up to smack her ass or tighten your grip in her as pain rushes through you

This aside, you find she enjoys a show of your strength even much behind closed doors

When you’re wrapped up in one another, she too likes to give you a display of her strenght, laughing in delight as both of you struggle to keep the other down

And lastly, in softer moments, she likes to be curled up on top of you like an overgrown cat, her flies buzzing calmly with your strong arms around her

While having a few muscles herself, she’s still somewhat petite compared to you, her body strong, but unable to sport too many muscles due to her biology

You find, she likes touching up your arms even more due to this, remanding head scratches with one hand while her teeth sink into the arm of the other

Daniela

When seeing you for the first time, Daniela just about throws herself at you

Never has she seen anyone with your physique, finding mostly weak maidens working at the castle whereas anyone of ample strength is often sent to work for Lord Heisenberg or Moreau

You chose the castle, instead

On your first day you encounter the woman already

Daniela’s swarm is all around you, her upper body formed just so she can trail her fingertips up your chest and to your shoulder

“Aren’t you a delicious thing”, she coos, her lips parted, her eyes set on you

She looks ready to eat you, no, not only ready, eager

And while you try to be as polite as possible and not get yourself into trouble with her, Daniela shows clear interest in you

She’s on you each day, trailing her fingers across your skin, shamelessly touching up your arms and shoulders and swarming in the air to lean her head on your back and shoulders, her expression almost dreamily

She’s convinced you love her early on; after all, why wouldn’t you, silly!

And as such, you find she’s very touchy

When you’re working, she’s often pressed up against her back, her shorter frame against you and her breasts pushed into your back causing your own nipples to harden occasionally

Your body and mind certainly responds to her

When you sit, on a break somewhere, you already know to anticipate her coming your way and boldly sitting down on top of your thighs, chatting about this and that

As she does one night, her head rested against your shoulder, her hands in her lap, her body on your lap in turn

She’s talking quietly, but you can tell she’s getting tired by the way her words make less and less sense and she trails off more often before finishing her sentences

Upon proposing she ought to get to bed, she merely whines and curls closer against you

And seeing this, you boldly wrap your strong arms fully around her and lift her

Daniela is up in an instant, giggling and holding onto you as she’s carried to her room

What true princess treatment!, she thinks, and it’s what immediately has her feelings for you double in intensity

You aren’t sure when the two of you got together and started dating, as she’s always been so very touchy and has always somewhat treated you like her girlfriend

Was it when she asked if you’d join her that day? Nestled underneath the warm covers?

Was it when you shared her bed in a different way the first time? When you had her wrapped around your fingers, her smaller, more petite body underneath you?

Or was it when she started regularly pulling you down or swarming up to you for kisses?

When you’d cup her cheeks, lean down and steal some whenever she was on her way out?

Or was it when you started regularly joining her for dinner with her family?

You don’t know, but couldn’t be happier

Being the snuggle bug she is, Daniela loves to be held in your arms

Despite her overall soft and gentle physique, Daniela is very durable and giggles each time you squeeze her hard, completely unharmed

She giggles most when you pick her up and throw her over your shoulder, usually when it’s time for the two of you ought to get some sleep and she’s still sat in the library, reading through yet another romance and fairytale

Both of these things fluster her easily too, though

While Daniela has a flirty personality and a way with words, you manage to reduce her to a blushing, gasping mess when you show off your physique or strenght

When undressing or changing, she’s on you immediately, touching and kissing in almost worshipping fashion, occasionally even biting or scratching when she can’t hold herself back

And lastly, she loves to go hunting with you

Your physique gives you an advantage few others have and allow you to hunt with her

Leaving the castle is a privilege known to little and even should you not hunt with her, you like to accompany her

Often, this means waiting by a small pond for her and ending up bathing together when she returns covered in blood

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #jooseboxxe #buff women #🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

119 notes · View notes

leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago

Text

Darlin' I'd Wait For You

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Requested by propertyofjmiller on AO3:

“hiya ^^ super duper simple request; softly singing astarion to sleep as he's laying on tav's tummy and she's playing with his hair :) it could be set after his ‘good ending’ where you talk him out of ascending, so the relationship is established (if that's easier from a writing perspective) but i'm always for an emotionally constipated astarion who's still learning how to accept non-sexual intimacy 🤗 absolutely obsessing over your writing atm

JUST HAD A BRAIN WAVE. https://spotify.link/oCo4B63H0Db this song completely encapsulates the vibe”

It is currently 1 am I really wanted to write something and I'm so sleepy it only felt fitting to do this request. I have not proofread it at all but if I try to I will pass out so ✌️

Title based on "j's lullaby (darlin' i'd wait for you)" by Delaney Bailey

Warnings: none

Word Count: 943

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

He’s utterly restless. Maybe that shouldn’t be surprising - he was an elf who didn’t need to sleep like you did. A few hours’ meditation and he’d be perfectly fine. But it’s not like he’d never slept before. Even on your adventure, he found some solace in sleeping instead of meditating. So why couldn’t he sleep now?

Astarion sighs quietly, trying not to be loud despite the frustration that burns him up inside. He tries rolling over again, like it’ll help. He bites back another frustrated sigh.

You roll over to face him. Your lids are heavy and you look the embodiment of tiredness, but you smile softly at him. “Can’t sleep?” you whisper.

He does sigh this time, long and annoyed. “No,” he grumbles. You chuckle, but he knows it’s harmless. Still, he can’t help being a little hot-and-bothered by it. A bit ruder than is appropriate for so late at night, he bites out, “Sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep either.”

With a stifled yawn, you sit up. He watches, intrigued, as you prop up pillows behind you and lay back into them. Then you delicately touch his shoulder. Always so gentle. You never wanted to overwhelm him or overstep. It was still a new concept for him. You’d brush a finger against his while walking side by side to see if he wished to hold hands; you’d hover a hand near his lower back when you had to slip by, never quite touching; you’d reach a hand up toward his hair and wait for him to lean in or verbally tell you he wanted it, and if he didn’t respond at all or even slightly shook his head, your hand would drop back down and you’d smile so brightly at him. It made his head spin.

With your other hand, you pat your belly. “C’mon, I’ll sing to you.” Even this is an invitation he could refuse. But how can he, when he is so restless and your plush, warm skin is calling to him?

He crawls to lay on top of you - though, it’s more like he pulls himself across the space until he can drop his head into your stomach. You lightly trace your hand from his shoulder to his upper-back, giving him a warm sense of security. Your other hand brushes a curl from his face. He looks up at you, not fully resting his chin on you, for fear of pressing too hard.

You drag your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching your nails against his scalp. He leans into it, eyes closing at the sensation. When you reach the hairs on the back of his neck, you scratch and twirl your fingers to capture the stray little curls.

You hum as you finally pick what song you want to sing. You weren’t a bard, nor had you taken any voice lessons, but Astarion can’t help thinking you have the most perfect singing voice he’s ever heard. You can’t reach all the notes you want to, your voice warbles and falls a little flat, and sometimes you don’t remember the words. But he loves it all the same.

Darlin’, I’d wait for you

Even if you didn’t ask me to

Tie a lasso around the moon

And bring it on down to you

He turns to rest his ear against you. His arms slide underneath you, between your back and the pillows, and hold you like a child’s favorite toy.

I’d bottle the feeling you give me

And shelve that stuff for years to come

‘Cause, baby, when your arms are around me

I’d swear that I’m holding the sun

He smiles at the lyrics you sing so softly. You can’t help but smile, too.

You play with his hair unhurriedly, lazily. It’s always so soft. Your other hand rubs circle designs in between his shoulder blades. You easily avoid the scars beneath his sleep-shirt, so intimately familiar with his back in a way he would have hated before. He thinks he can make out sloppy elvish writing, but it’s hard to say. His mind is too sluggish to recall if you even know the language.

I’d give you the sun if you asked me

You could have all of time

You could have the stars and the trees

When dividin’ up the universe

You could have mine

His entire body relaxes into yours, until where you begin and he ends becomes a blur. Neither of you are eager to figure it out. Instead, you continue to sing your quiet lullaby. Your voice begins to trail off somewhere along the way, hands slowing and losing their rhythm. He can hear your breaths even out until you can no longer sing, fully claimed by your exhaustion.

He continues to lay there for a bit longer. He counts the seconds it takes for you to breathe in and out. He counts the beats of your heart as it slows to a steady pattern. Every so often, your fingers twitch in his hair or against his back, as though part of you is fighting to wake up again and continue taking care of him. But he’s already perfectly content right where he is. He is warm and safe, and you are warm and safe.

The dark tendrils of sleep crawl in from the outer edges of his mind until they overwhelm him. His dreams are filled with you - your voice, your smile, the way you feel in his arms, the way you touch him so tenderly. Come morning, he can experience it all for himself, but for now, he cherishes every second.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @tototini @teardropcup

432 notes · View notes

wreckedandpolemic · 4 months ago

Text

spilling amaretto - george daniel

(mdni) in which you and george make good use of an empty bar after closing time (or, the bartender!george au). 5375 words.

warnings: daddy kink (i'm sorry), public sex, praise, degradation, spanking, oral (f receiving), brief mentions of body insecurity, gratuitously slutty matty cameo

The expression the night shift makes for strange bedfellows had never been one you’d much considered until now, with George’s body warming the sheets as you stir awake. You couldn’t pinpoint when the tension between you had begun, but you know the sequence of events that had pulled you into his bed tonight. It had started in the walk-in fridge, ironically in the least sexy way possible.

You crumple to the floor, shivering in the chill and covering your eyes, silent sobs wracking your body. Just as you stand, your deadline on self-pity drying up, the door bangs open. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your way, I—” Your words die in your throat as you look up at George, his frame towering in the doorway.

“You alright, sweets? What’s wrong?” He’s watching you, concern written across his face.

You sigh. “Nothing.” You move to push past him, but he stops you with a carefully placed hand, heat prickling under your skin at his touch. George fixes you with a look. “Been doing three people’s jobs fucking thanklessly all day. Tony’s up my arse, as per. Woman on seventeen shouting at me because I brought her the drink she fucking ordered and she didn’t read the pissing menu. Had a shit day yesterday, I’m on the fucking close today. I dunno, s’all just shit.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, a humiliated flush creeping up your cheeks as tears brim on your lashes.

“C’mere, sweets, s’gonna be fine. C’mon, I’ve got you,” George murmurs, folding you into his arms. You melt against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat soothing. His hand comes up stroke along your back, tracing delicate patterns over your spine. “There you are, pretty girl.” Embarrassingly, your heart jumps. “I’ll take the close, yeah? Or at least get him to put me on it as well.”

You shake your head, mortified. “No, don’t. M’being a baby. It’s not that big a deal.” Wiping your eyes, you sniff and try to suck it up, dragging your feet as you start to head back to the neglected bar.

“If you’re this upset, it’s a big deal, love. I don’t mind taking it, I’m serious. Could use the extra couple of quid, honestly.” George smiles earnestly down at you, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you return it thinly. “See, I got you, promise.” Slightly less shaken, you follow George back to the bar, slipping back into customer service mode with a falsely cheerful Hiya, sorry for the wait. How can I help?

George flags down your manager and essentially strongarms him into sharing the close with you, cheerfully taking over the till as you weave past him with a tray of drinks. The second you emerge from the glasswash, you hear the sound of snapping fingers behind your head, and you clench your teeth.

You turn as slowly as possible, nails biting into your palms to keep calm. “Giz a Stella, would you, beautiful?” the customer leers through genuinely about three teeth, and you shudder.

“There’s a queue,” you say flatly, and he frowns.

“Oh, smile for me, sweetheart,” he says, not even pretending to hide the way he’s addressing your chest. “Come on, you’re a pretty girl, it’s a beautiful day, you gotta giz a smile,” he smirks, sleazy and unsettling.

Thankfully, George steps up behind you, resting a hand protectively on your shoulder. “Don’t speak to her like that, mate.” His tone is firm, perfectly polite and yet undercut with a threat that you know he can back up.

“Who’s this, your boyfriend?” he sneers, leaning close enough that you can smell alcohol sharp and acrid on his breath. “Like an older man, do you, pretty?”

You just stare, stunned into silence, until George slams his hand down on the bar and you jump. “Get out,” he orders, low and furious. “Get the fuck out of my bar before I haul your sorry arse out myself.” He’s deadly quiet, angry in a way you’ve rarely seen him, and the guy seems to sense that he’s serious; he flees with his tail between his legs and you snort.

“Thanks,” you mutter, a little shaken.

“Of course. You okay? D’you need a minute?” You smile up at him, nervously tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear and turning to pour a pint.

“Nah, I’m alright. S’long as I’ve got you to rescue me,” you grin, eyes focused on the glass in your hand as you flush red.

George slides his hand down to your hip, squeezing gently, and heat flares between your thighs. “Always.”

Service slowly winds down, until finally, blissfully, the last customer clears off. You throw up two fingers at their back, mouthing good fuckin’ riddance, and George shakes his head with a laugh. “You feelin’ better?” he asks, leaning across you to reach for the glasses stacked on the bar in front of you.

The heat of his body warms you through, the scent of his cologne dizzying as it envelops you. “Y-yeah,” you say, desperately trying to calm your racing heart. “Thanks.”

“Good,” George grins, placing a hand on your waist and gently nudging you to the side. You turn, pinned between him and the bar as you look up into his smirking face. Your heart hammers, a needy, trembling thing, and he leans close. “You’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that, you know?”

He’s so close you can feel his breath against your lips, so close you could memorise every square inch of his face, so close your chest is constricting. You lean away before you do something stupid, huffing a quiet laugh. “Fuck off.” You flush, grateful for the bar’s dim lighting.

“Am I interrupting something?” Matty’s teasing voice startles you out of your trance, and you scowl playfully at him.

“Yes, actually,” you retort. “Don’t you have cutlery to polish, or something?”

Matty laughs, the sound low and rich, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Everyone’s done closing except you unlucky fuckers. Just came for a pint.” You roll your eyes, watching him critically as you start him a Guinness. His chef jacket is stained, hanging unbuttoned off his shoulders, the tank top underneath sweaty and tight to the contours of his body. You bite your lip a little, his frame undeniably attractive as he steps outside and lights a cigarette.

“G, d’you want something to drink before I close the taps?” you call, pouring yourself a cider as Matty wanders back in. You can’t help but watch the muscles in his throat as he swallows, the way his thumb brushes across his plush lips when he wipes his mouth.

Matty smirks back at you like he can read your thoughts and leans close. “Anytime, darling,” he murmurs, sudden warmth flooding your body. “Either of us. Or both, if that’s what you want.” You can’t help but imagine it, the heat pooling in your belly suddenly too much to bear.

“Nah, I’m alright, sweets. Thank you, though,” George says, emerging from the back. He huffs a disbelieving laugh at the sight of you and Matty, seemingly sensing the tension in the air between you. “Mate, are you ever not thinking with your dick?”

“Just makin’ sure she keeps her options open,” Matty says, downing the rest of his drink and standing. “You two have a good night.” He pats your ass and strolls off, humming cheerfully as he goes.

George huffs, folding his arms and staring in the direction Matty left from. “I can’t believe him. Sorry, sweets. He’s full of shit.”

You can barely believe the words that fall from your lips, but they’re out there before you can think them through. “Is he? Or is that true?” you ask, fixing George with your best innocent eyes. “Have you ever shared a girl?”

You’re breathless, the room suddenly far too small for the swell of tension pulling between you. “A couple times,” George says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “Why? Is that something you want, sweets?”

Thoughts race through your head so fast you’re set spinning, a coin set on its edge. Flashes of fantasies fill your vision, of plush lips and greedy hands and tattooed skin and sharp teeth; of three bodies, of slick sweat and slicker thighs, of bending over and being filled everywhere at once, of gentle praise and taking it like a good girl. You’re sure George can read your thoughts on your face, but you answer anyway. “Maybe. Maybe I want you all to myself, first.”

His grin is wicked, promising as he leans close, pinning you against the bar and speaking against your lips. “I’m right here, sweets.”

Your bravado collapses.

“I’m gonna go and do a restock,” you mutter, looking everywhere but his eyes. Thankfully, George relents, lets you slip out from under him and dart off to the cellar, but you can feel his eyes burning into your back as you go.

Heat flushes your body even in the cool of the cellar, the memory of George’s touch ghosting over your skin, his searching gaze, the promise of something unnameable hanging in the air between you. You lull yourself back into calmness with the rhythmic rattle of bottles as you pack them away, carefully hefting a full crate and lugging it up the steps. George rushes over as you kick the door open, easily lifting the crate from your hands. “Should’ve come and got me, love,” he chides, and you scoff, pouring yourself a rum and coke just to have something to do with your hands.

“I can do it myself just fine,” you say, even as you shamelessly ogle the muscles in his arms, biting on your straw to keep your thoughts inside.

“Trust me, sweets, I know exactly how capable you are. I’m just trying to be a gentleman, take care of you like a lady,” he adds, tossing you a smirk that drips down your spine, the words catching in your throat and bleeding into your lungs.

Shaking your head as if to clear it, you paste on a grin. “You’re so full of shit. Nobody who works here is a gentleman. Or a fucking lady.”

George shrugs. “Maybe not. Does that mean you don’t want me taking care of you, sweets?” There’s no mistaking his meaning, the slick, hot undercurrent of his voice. Your thighs clench involuntarily.

You knock back the rest of your drink for courage before you answer. If you pussy out again, you’re going to lose your nerve completely. “And what if I do?”

There’s a sharp exhale, then George crosses the bar in three long strides, crowding you against it but hovering just out of your reach. “Then I’d say be careful what you wish for, pretty girl. You sure you wanna get mixed up with me?” He grins wolfishly, and you shudder, arousal pooling in your belly. You nod, heartbeat thumping in your throat. “Last chance, darling.”

The epithet sends a burst of heat between your legs, and you bite down on a whine. “Shut up and kiss me,” you groan, stretching up to sling your arms around his neck. Finally, gloriously, he does.

The kiss is explosive, hungry, an outpouring of pent-up energy and desire. George’s big hands cup your face, fingers rough as he slides them up into your hair, unpinning the clip and letting it tumble loose over your shoulders. His tongue meets your lips and you part them eagerly, letting him lick frenzied into your mouth. You make out until you’re dizzy from lack of oxygen, pulling back to gaze up at George dreamily. “You,” he groans, kissing you so softly it would almost be chaste if your lips weren’t still dripping with his spit. “Have no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.”

You giggle as his lips find your jaw, fingers gently sweeping your hair off your neck and trailing down kisses. “I think I have an idea.” You push his head away so you can look in his eyes, wide and liquid and luminous. “But why don’t you tell me anyways?” you add, grinning slightly.

“Wanted you from the first second I saw you, sweets,” George promises, kissing over the hollow of your throat. “Mmm, up you get, c’mon, love,” he says, tapping your thigh until you jump up and lock your legs around his waist. Sweet, blunt pain blossoms from where his fingers dig into your thighs as he carries you across the floor and deposits you on the other side of the bar. “First fucking second you walked in here, dolled up all pretty in that little white skirt, all ready for this place to ruin you, fuck. Should be fuckin’ locked up for the things I thought about you,” he groans, kissing softly over your jaw.

Tipping your head back, you moan softly as George nips at your neck. “What’d you think about?” you ask, sliding your hands under his shirt and mapping the vast, smooth expanse of his back with your fingertips.

George’s hand comes down to your chest, squeezing your tit before he pops a button on your uniform shirt. “Could see those little black panties through your skirt. Wanted to— mmm— get on my knees for you, pull ‘em off with my teeth, get my mouth on you.” He breaks up his words with slow, indulgent kisses, heat curling in your belly as you wrap your legs around him. “Got myself off so many fuckin’ times thinking about you. How you’d taste, what you’d look like under me, whether you’d be a good girl or a little brat.” George pinches your nipple through your shirt and you gasp into his mouth, arching your back and letting him loose your last button.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of your tits, and you flush crimson when you realise you’re clad in your most unflattering underwear. “Sorry, I didn’t— I wasn’t expecting— If I’d known—” George’s rough fingers tug down the cups of your bra, bending his head to press featherlight kisses over your tits.

“Don’t fucking apologise, are you mad? Been dreaming about these pretty tits of yours for months, sweets. Gonna worship them properly when I get you in a bed, promise.” George bites at your tits, blunt pain spreading from the points his teeth graze your skin and falling to your cunt. Your back arches when he wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking softly and pulling a moan from your lips. “Shit, y’so pretty, baby. You want me to go down on you?”

Your cunt clenches, desire pulsing dizzily through you. “Here?” you gasp out, the last vestiges of your rational brain clinging to control.

George laughs. “Why not? Everyone’s gone home. S’just you and me, sweets. Can scream as loud as you want for me, yeah?”

Clumsily, you wriggle out of your jeans and let them crumple to the floor under you, watching his eyes blow wide at the sight of you in just your work shirt and underwear. “Better make me scream, then. Do your worst, Daddy.”

He chokes, eyes glinting with steel. You glance down to see his cock straining against the confines of his jeans, your mouth watering and head spinning at how fucking hard he is. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweets,” George says, low voice stirring a thrill in your belly.

You throw him a challenging smirk. “Shouldn’t you be finishing me?” you tease. His hands creep down to your waist, your body trembling at his touch as he slides your panties down your legs. The sight of them crumpled on top of the bar is flusteringly obscene, your cunt pulsing as George drops to his knees.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, kissing at the insides of your thighs as you squirm.

“Stop staring at me,” you complain, pressing a hand to the back of George’s head to urge him closer.

“Can’t help it, sweets. You’re a fuckin’ masterpiece. This cunt is so pretty, ‘n I bet she tastes so sweet, too,” he says, in that slow, implacable drawl of his. The seconds between you stretch, pulled like taffy, the eagerness in your limbs almost vibrating.

Finally, gloriously, George leans in, licking a broad, flat stripe along your cunt, moaning as the taste of you hits his tongue. You cry out, legs kicking helplessly in the air. “Oh, my God,” you moan, heat pulsing in your core when George kisses your clit and sucks it into his mouth. “George, please,” you whine, white-knuckling the wooden bar-top as he licks at you with fervour.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs. “Taste so fucking sweet. Want Daddy to make you cum, baby?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, mouthing over you as your back arches to press your hips against his mouth. Liquid heat pours down your spine, hot and sugary as it drips over George’s lips.

Calloused fingers brush along your inner thighs, creeping higher and higher until you’re full so fast you’re choking. “Oh, fuck, yes!” you cry, euphoria twisting through your bloodstream as George sets a punishing rhythm, your head hazy as the rest of the room fades from your consciousness.

George licks at you starvingly, one big hand digging into your thigh while the other fills you ruthlessly, waves of hot, sweet pleasure cascading over you. Your cunt throbs wildly around his fingers, thighs clamped around his head like a vice as he moans against you. “So pretty, sweets. You ready to cum for Daddy, hm?” The vibration of his words as they ripple through you have you melting, pure bliss splattering on your ribcage and dripping down your insides.

He curls his fingers just so, a pulse of wild, frenzied ecstasy knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your cunt throbs around his fingers, pleasure humming in every corner of your body as you cum against George’s tongue. “Shit, Daddy, m’cumming, fuck! Oh, fuck, I can’t— fuck,” you whine, chest heaving as arousal floods out against his tongue and drips down his fingers.

Grinning wickedly, George lifts his head, sucking his wet fingers into his mouth deliberately slow and teasing. He stands, catching your lips in a hungry kiss, the taste of you smearing sticky between your mouths. Carelessly, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smirks. “God, look at you. So fuckin’ pretty, sweets.” You tug your panties back on and hop to your feet, legs wobbly as you readjust to carrying your own weight. Bending over to retrieve your jeans, you suck in a sharp breath as George taps your ass, not hard enough to be a slap, but definitely more than a pat. “Oh,” he says, the smirk in his voice audible. “You like that? Good little girl wants Daddy to spank her, yeah?”

Your stomach clenches, flames licking along your thighs at his words. Grinning, you turn to face him. “And who said I was a good girl?” George’s gaze burns hot, darkly intense over your skin as you fix your bra and button your shirt. “Maybe I’m filthy. Maybe I’m a whore.” A grin stretches wide over your lips, swollen and kiss-bitten. Your eyes flicker down to where his cock is straining against his jeans, the sheer size of his bulge making your mouth water. “D’you need some help with that, Daddy? Could be your little cocksleeve, if you want. Any hole you want, promise,” you smirk, slinking past him to toss your empty glass in the back. “Just gotta take me home, first.”

George’s hands are shaking as he locks the doors behind you, and you thrill; feel a sick sense of pride at flustering him for a change. You don’t let up on the drive to his place, propping your feet up against the dash and drawing slow circles over your clit, slow, deliberate pleasure seeping into your bloodstream. The light flush spreading across his cheeks emboldens you, your lips parting around a moan. “D’you know how many times I’ve— mm— got off thinking about you? Dreamed about gettin’— shit— getting fuckin’ split open on your dick?”

A sound that’s pure lust spills from George’s mouth. “God, we wasted so much time,” he groans. “First time you came to shift drinks, you were sat in my lap, ‘n I almost asked to fuck you right then. Would’ve, if I’d known what a needy little slut you are.”

Your head tips back, gasping as you speed your motions over your clit. “I remember that,” you moan. “Was tryin’ every fucking trick, y’know? All the grinding and the whispering and the fuck-me eyes. Would’ve thought you weren’t interested, ‘cept you were holding my waist so tight I couldn’t have got up if I wanted to. Never finished the guy I went home with, ‘cause he left after I called him George when I came,” you add. George’s jaw clenches.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “M’gonna make you forget every guy you’ve ever fucked, sweets, I promise you that.” Your thighs clench, anticipatory. One of George’s big hands wanders to cover your own, his fingers replacing yours over your clit. “God, y’so wet for me, baby. Bet I could just fuckin’ fill you up right now and you wouldn’t even notice, right?” You moan helplessly as he does just that, sliding two of his fingers into you alongside your own. “Don’t worry, sweets, we’re not far now. Needy cunt’s gonna get filled up soon, promise.”

At first, George matches your rhythm, then speeds until your nails are digging into his inked, muscled arm for dear life as he finger-fucks you ruthlessly. Pleasure pins you back against your seat, breath stolen from your lungs as if you’re driving a hundred miles an hour. He drags you to your peak, so tantalisingly close that you can fucking taste it, then pulls away cruelly. Before you can so much as whine, he tosses you a shit-eating grin. “We’re here, love,” he says, parking his car and climbing out.

You take George’s hand as he helps you out of the car, let him pin you against the cold metal and kiss him feverishly, your jeans still unbuttoned and sliding off your hips. “Bed, please,” you whimper against his lips.

“Whatever you want, you’ll get, sweets,” he grins. Your stomach swoops as he picks you up bridal style, his heartbeat thumping in time with yours when you press your head against his chest. He descends on you with starving lips as you fall into his bed, licking furiously into your mouth and tearing at your clothes. You’re naked and George is shirtless and panting before you break apart, roaming your hands over his sweat-damp skin and grinding against his cock through his jeans.

“Want you to fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy,” you add coyly, parting your lips coquettishly and letting your tongue loll out a little.

George just grins, kneeling up and grabbing your hips to roll you onto your stomach. “Not just yet, sweets. Gotta spank you first, make sure you’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy, yeah?”

Face pressed into the pillows, you moan helplessly, unconsciously widening your legs as you drip over George’s sheets. You arch your back, push your ass up towards him, whine something incoherent into the pillow. You hear the harsh crack of flesh against flesh before you feel the pain, a sweet sting sliding deliciously through your body. The second slap is just as unexpected as the first, but you feel it more acutely; the same, stinging pain undercut with the bite of metal where his rings connect with your skin. “Daddy, yes,” you moan, writhing happily as he hits your other cheek.

“Y’such a slut, baby,” he coos, gently kneading your flaming skin and nudging your legs further apart. “I fuckin’ love it,” he adds, his grin audible.

“I’d say it’s only for you, but that’d be a lie,” you smirk. “I’m just a slut. A dirty fuckin’ slut. You can do anything you want to me, and I’ll like it, promise.”

“Is that right?” George breathes, low and dangerous. It’s all the warning you get before his hand comes down hard against your cunt, a shockwave of pleasure crashing over you. You gasp and writhe, pleading incoherently as he slaps you again.

Your head thrashes back and forth, tension coiling hot in your belly. “George, please,” you whimper. “Just fuck me. I’ll be good for you, promise. I need you s’bad, Daddy.”

“Such a little whore,” he says reverently. “Jesus, this arse,” he groans, watching the fat of it ripple under another slap. “These fucking hips, those tits,” he practically moans. “D’you know how crazy this perfect little body makes me, sweets?”

Heat floods your cheeks, the intensity of his gaze palpable as George maps every inch of your exposed skin. Briefly, you thank God that you’re facedown; this level of scrutiny over your stomach would send you spiralling. “S’not that little.”

George laughs. “What are you, sweets? Five-four?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you say flatly, and George seems to sense the souring of your mood.

He flips you over, gentle concern written across his face. There’s no pity there, though, his eyes still dark with lust as he brushes your hair out of your face. “D’you remember that time we went out and you were wearing that tiny, tight little black dress?” You nod. You remember exactly how self-conscious you were in it, too. “Thought I was gonna fuckin’ burn a hole in it from how hard I was staring. Y’looked so fuckin’ good, could barely control myself. Got off thinkin’ about fucking you in it every night for a week. Drove me crazy. Don’t worry, sweets, m’gonna fuck all the thoughts out of that pretty head of yours, okay?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Thank you,” you murmur. “Want you bad,” you add shakily, stretching up to kiss him hungrily, and George smirks against your mouth.

“There you are, pretty girl. C’mon, legs up, yeah? Gonna fuckin’ wreck you.” You obey thoughtlessly, gazing up at him with lust-blown eyes as he peels out of his jeans and boxers in one motion. Drool floods your mouth at the sight of his cock springing free, hard and heavy and fucking huge between his legs.

“Fuck me,” you groan, pressing your head back. “Need you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, Daddy, please,” you whine, letting him fit himself between your legs and slowly slide his cock through your folds. Pleasure ripples through you as he presses into you, the feeling divine as you stretch around his head.

George buries his head in your neck. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans. “This needy cunt’s takin’ me so well, sweets. So wet for me,” he praises, one of his hands coming down to play with your tit, grasping and squeezing greedily. “Would you think I was a fucking pervert if I told you I’ve had dreams about fucking these gorgeous tits?” A heady, dizzying pulse of arousal hits your core, arousal dripping out over George’s cock as he slowly starts to move.

“Maybe. If I didn’t like you so much,” you giggle. “I mean, you’re, what? Twelve years older than me? Some perverted old man at my job starin’ at my tits so hard he tips lager over a customer?” George winces, and you laugh. “I noticed. So filthy, Daddy,” you add smugly, moaning against his mouth when he fills you slow and deep. Pleasure winds tight through your body, fizzing and sparking sweetly in your chest.

“Can you blame me? I mean, fuck, look at you. D’you have a single fuckin’ clue what you do to me in those low-cut little tops you wear?” The praise sends liquid heat curving up your spine. The knowledge that you’re the one getting him off, that you’re the object of his fantasies is nothing short of dizzying. “Takes all my fucking self-control not to just—” George cuts himself off, burying his head between your tits and lapping hungrily at your skin. You moan happily as his teeth scrape against your flesh, the sudden, sharp pain delicious as it falls to your core.

Your chest is heaving and spit-slick by the time George looks up, cunt soaked and clenching around him. “Need it harder, Daddy, please,” you beg, locking your legs around his waist as he fucks into you. You can feel every single inch of him, feel the pressure of his body against yours, feel his heartbeat kicking in tune with yours.

“So gorgeous, sweets. Such a good girl for your Daddy, yeah?” His hips slam against yours, every breath a struggle against the liquid ecstasy filling your lungs. He’s crooning out soft praises, lowering his head to kiss and bite at your tits again. The thought of the bruises that’ll litter your chest tomorrow makes you thrill, hips rocking up against George’s as you careen towards your orgasm.

One of his big hands trails down to rub circles into your clit, wetness smearing under his fingertips as pleasure races uncontrollably through you. “George, please,” you whimper, back arching and legs trembling.

“Right there, aren’t you, sweets?” George croons, rough fingers scraping over your sensitive nerves. He lowers his head, covers your mouth with his, kisses you so gently it would almost be sweet if he weren’t fucking into you at a brutal, uncontrolled pace. “God, you feel so good, so fucking good. Better than I could have dreamed, angel.”

You flush red, squeezing your eyes shut bashfully. Your orgasm builds and builds, a ball of pleasure screwed tightly in your core, hot and overpowering. It’s more intense than you think you’ve ever felt, George fucking deep into you with your body practically folded in half. “Shit, Daddy, m’gonna— I can’t— Fuck!” you cry, your vision whiting out as you cum impossibly hard. Your entire body turns liquid, arousal literally gushing out of you and flooding the mattress. “Oh, my God,” you whine, convulsing with pleasure as George grips your hips to hold you steady.

“Oh, baby,” George murmurs, hips still rocking steadily against yours as you float back down to Earth. “Shit, you fucking— Does that— I mean, was that me?”

You giggle. “If you’re asking me if anyone’s ever made me squirt before, the answer’s no. Guess that makes you the best I’ve ever had, huh?” George smirks, still rubbing your clit as he fucks into you, near-unbearable heat burning you from the inside out. “Are you gonna cum, Daddy? You wanna fill up my slutty cunt like I need?”

His pace turns erratic, desperate, your nails digging into his shoulders to anchor yourself to reality. “God, this cunt is so perfect, sweets. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum, make you all mine, yeah?” The words have barely left his lips before he does just that, spilling inside of you and groaning your name against your lips. You moan happily as his cock pulses, ropes of cum painting your insides white.

You kiss him greedily, whining when he pulls out, his eyes falling to your messy, dripping cunt. “You dreamed about me?” you grin, and George flushes siren-red, caught. “Were they dirty dreams?” you tease, rolling on top of him and resting on your elbows to gaze down at him.

His eyes are wide with lust, and he looks almost shy as he speaks. “Dreamed about this,” he grins. “Thought about how good your cunt would feel, how gorgeous you’d look cumming for me. Dreamed about your pretty lips around my dick, about tasting your pretty pussy. God, I just want you to sit on my fuckin’ face and drown me, sweets.”

Smirking wickedly, you push yourself up into a sitting position. “That can be arranged,” you say, straddling him and moaning softly as you grind your cunt against George’s stomach. “Are you hungry?”

George licks his lips, eyes glinting as you shuffle your way up his body and kneel over his face. His tongue flickers out to tease your clit, and you gasp, hands fisting in the sheets. You feel him smirk against your core. “Starving.”

#this has been cooking for so long for how short it is #george daniel x reader #george daniel smut #george daniel imagine #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #writing #smut #bartender!au

107 notes · View notes

grandlinedreams · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! May I request something with Modern AU Law? Something domestic like redecorating the house together, or watching Law fix up his truck or having Cora over for dinner. Do whatever you want! I just really want to see something more with modern Law.

Thank you in advance! I love reading what you write :)

Hiya papaya!! I absolutely can!! I hope this is to your liking!!

|| warnings: modern!au, idk jackshit abt trucks so i made it up, law's hot in a tanktop, suggestive

To be fair, Law had genuinely meant to take you out on a proper date. He'd been planning it for weeks, down to the last detail ㅡ and then through a series of unfortunate events beyond his control, it'd fallen apart.

"Are you sure this is okay with you?" Law doesn't understand what's going through your head as he watches you settle yourself in the grass just a few feet away, perfectly content to watch him work on the truck he's been trying to restore. "I can see ifㅡ"

"For the last time Law, it's fine," you insist. "I didn't need some fancy night out anyways." A soft smile tugs at your lips, and it makes his heart do funny things. "I'm happy just being with you at all."

Law slides the dolly back underneath the truck to avoid letting you see the blush that crawls up his neck. Though you've been dating for a while now, it's still alarming how easily you make him feel off kilter ㅡ in the best of ways.

You watch as he works on the underneath of the vehicle, catching the soft murmurs and hissed curses as he works ㅡ and it's all together so very Law that it makes warmth bloom in your chest. You'd meant what you said ㅡ simply being around him is enough.

The fact that he looks so damnably good in a tanktop doesn't hurt either. He emerges from beneath the truck, and your eyes slide over him. Grease speckles tanned skin, and you swallow at the flex of toned muscle at his biceps, the lean plane of his stomach where his tanktop has ridden up ㅡ

Law calls your name, and you jolt as your eyes snap to his. "What?"

Law watches you, brow furrowed ㅡ and then he catches the barely there flush to your cheeks and he smirks. You avert your gaze with a huff, pretending not to notice when he moves off the dolly to approach you.

Warm fingers meet your chin, tilting your head up to meet gleaming gold. "If you want something," he murmurs, watching you swallow, "you need to use your words."

#ㅡanswered.#ㅡmine.#one piece scenario #one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader

217 notes · View notes

madschiavelique · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! This is my first request, sorry if it isn’t that coherent. Is it cool if I send a hurt/comfort drabble request with gn reader x Miguel?

Maybe something where an enemy takes advantage of Miguel’s lack of spider sense and is severely injured to the point where he can’t keep up his tough exterior anymore. He’d probably dread how vulnerable the situation made him and would want the reader beside him for the next mission, as some kinda filler spider sense after he recovers (or just has them there for comfort but doesn’t wanna admit it LOL)

hiya anon !! this was coherent don't worry hehehe

summary : miguel gets severely injured on a mission and wants you by his sides for all the upcoming ones

content warnings : blood, cuts, miguel almost dying (he doesn't dw), flangst (?), this turns sweet, no use of Y/N, gender neutral!reader word count : 2,2k

tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel found himself alone on the field. This wasn't usually a problem, as the number of individual missions he'd carried out before forming his entire Spider Society was vast. It hadn't always been easy, of course, but he'd always managed to pull himself up, like a true Spider-Man would.

The rain clattered against the pixels of his suit, thunder rumbling between the dark clouds where skyscrapers sank like daggers into a black cotton belly.

He was out of breath, the anomaly he was facing was the typical weak point of his mutation: it was invisible, and extremely fast, which didn't help as Miguel's Spidersenses were profoundly insignificant, or even to put it simply: non-existent.

If he could get a visual on his target, everything would be perfectly fine. He could carry out his mission like the usual without a care. But invisible? That was undoubtedly his Achilles' heel in anomalies.

His hand was pressed against one of his bleeding sides as he stood breathless on a rooftop. The anomaly kept using its invisibility and speed to make unpredictable sprints to cut him from side to side.

He muttered an insult under his breath, his shoulders, arms and legs riddled with cuts of varying depths that were causing severe pain all over his body.

The anomaly was taunting him, laughing at one corner and then the next second calling out from another. The situation was becoming far too complex, and he could feel that the loss of blood from his body was starting to have an impact, weakening him enormously in this fight. It was more than a weakness actually, it was a real danger.

His eyes were looking in all directions, turning in on himself. Silence and the inability to know where his enemy was had never frightened him so much. He knew very well that the invisible things were just as dangerous as the visible ones, if not more so.

You don't always see love when it's coming, and you sometimes fail to recognise death when it arrives.

Call for help? Yes, perhaps that would be best, no matter how proud he was and how independent he wanted to be. Trying to regain a less shaky breath, he swallowed as he brought his lips to his watch:

"Lyla call the-" but he was cut off instantly by the anomaly that came at him in a flash, slicing into the back of his leg with such power that he fell to his knees with a grunt. The puddle into which he had fallen became darker, the red of his blood mingling with it under the light of one of the neon advertisements on an adjacent building.

He groaned in frustration, bringing the watch up to his mouth again.

"Lyla-" he breathed a little louder, but the anomaly cracked the silence with a high-pitched laugh as he cut into his back with a straight, deep line of his own.

Miguel arched his back, a growl mingling with a cry of desperation and terrible frustration as he lay on the ground.

Was it the rain, or was his vision becoming blurry ?

The anomaly materialised before his tired eyes, kneeling beside him, tilting its head to one side.

"All so," he laughed horribly, "big and strong and muscular." the anomaly grabbed his arm evilly, squeezing his hand over a cut that was burning hellishly, and Miguel let out screams through his teeth.

"But I'll tell you something, big buy," the anomaly said simply, moving a little closer to Miguel, who was beginning to find it harder and harder to stay awake. "In the end, we're all made of flesh that can be cut, and bones that can be broken."

He held up his knife, which the raindrops were cleaning of Miguel's blood, still glued to the blade. He then placed it against Miguel's cheek, his vision completely blurred.

"Lyla," he whispered, barely audible, using what little strength he had left to cry out for help.

He saw the knife rise, thinking to himself, this is it, it's over, he thought.

He murmured something, just something ? No, it was more important than that. He murmured your name.

He wanted, no, needed to see you now. Hear your voice, see you once more before… he just needed you by his side.

He felt so lonely.

He could’ve chosen anyone to be by his sides, heck someone was literally by his side at the moment and it was an anomaly, so he wasn’t exactly alone. But still, still, he wanted you.

The knife elevated, ready to strike him down, the sound of the anomaly’s laughter echoing in his mind in a numb way. And that’s when he saw a bright orange in the reflection of the bloody puddle, and lost consciousness.

He awoke in the infirmary, his eyes gradually adjusting to the whitish light. The aseptic air caught his nostrils, his lips were dry and a slight headache tugged at his skull.

He was lying on a stretcher in a position somewhere between sitting up and lying down. As he tried to straighten up, he was immediately stopped by an intense pain, and immediately tensed up.

"Hey hey hey, easy, easy."

He knew that voice, very, very well indeed. He opened his eyes again, slowly.

You were there, at his bedside, just above him to make sure he didn't try to get up again. He inhaled slowly, breathing hurt a little, and he wrinkled his nose in pain.

"How long was I out?" he asked, his first thought always remaining on the subject of organisation.

"Three days," you replied, standing next to him, arms folded.

"Three d-!" but the rise in his tone made his whole chest ache.

"Hey shh shh shh," you soothed, coming to rest your hand on his cheek to provide a point of anchorage for him in the middle of all of this pain.

"Three days," he breathes against your touch as he squirmed around trying to find a comfortable position without feeling like his whole body was on fire. "It's too much wasted time, I have to go back-"

"You're not going back anywhere for a little while, Miguel." you cut, voice calm.

"But I have to-" his breath came a little sharper.

"Miguel, you're not going to do anything at all except rest." you reiterated.

"Listen to me-"

"No, you listen to me," you interjected this time in a much less calm and more strict tone, which surprised him enough to stop him from continuing to fidget and breathe almost frantically. "You had a near-death experience, Miguel," your words were categorical. "And I refuse to allow you to not recover from that properly just so you can kill yourself at work instead, because... fuck, I was so scared." your voice had trailed off on the last word, broken.

Your eyes avoided his, looking up at the ceiling, biting your lip as your gaze fell back on the countless cuts he had strewn across his body. Your hand, previously on his cheek, came to rest beside him on the stretcher.

And you could feel his eyes on you, expecting your next words.

"When Lyla appeared to us... I had never seen her so serious and anxious at the same time. I have always seen her as playful and," a sigh, "sassy. But then, what she said made my heart drop," you admitted, looking him in the eye, trying to articulate.

A tear rolled down your cheek, and you immediately brushed it away, trying to pull yourself together.

"When we arrived, you were in an indescribable state, you were motionless... gosh Miguel I've never wished so much to see someone make just one movement," you breathed in, wiping away the other hot tears that wanted to flow further down your cheeks. "You can't imagine the relief I felt when they stabilised your state."

He looked at you, lips parted as he listened intently. And he thought of how he had wished you in death to bring him life and how you had wished him in life to stay away from death.

"I stayed, you know? By your side. Days, nights, whenever I could," you smiled, a small breath living your lips as you sniffed.

His heart was overflowing with emotions, all the sensations and thoughts that had taken hold of him during his confrontation with the anomaly coming back vividly to his mind, and yet he felt it all squeezed into his chest.

"I..." his voice grew small, and he swallowed to try and make his throat more cooperative to make the lump that was forming in it disappear.

"I thought... I'd never get to see you again," he admitted, inhaling softly.

His hand came to rest on yours, his fingers gently caressing your skin as you took it in yours.

"I..." his eyes were veiled by a curtain of tears that stung his nose, and he bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at your hands interlaced.

He thought back to the rain that kissed him goodbye, to the thunder that rumbled through the dark clouds as if to lecture him, to the feel of the sharp blade on his skin and the life that was gradually leaving him. But above all he remembered his vulnerability, and the possibility that this moment might be his last.

"It was so cold... I just," a tear finally rolled down his cheek, "I just wanted you to be here," his eyes returned to yours, "with me."

You could see it in his eyes, the fear, the dread that something like this could happen again. You bit your lip, your chin trembling as you gripped his hand a little tighter in yours.

"I need you by my side," he declared.

Your free hand gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, his lids closing.

"I will be by your side," you whispered, "I will protect you."

He breathed in gently, his eyes meeting yours again.

"From now on, everywhere I'll go, you'll go with me," he concluded, and you squeezed his hand in yours again.

"I'll go with you," you agreed, wiping the last tear from your cheek, the salts of your two cries combining on the back of your hand like an oath.

Miguel had recovered well. At first he'd inevitably flinched at the fact that he'd let everything be controlled by someone other than himself, but in the end he'd let it slide.

You came to visit him every day, not only to make your report but also simply to spend time with him. You always brought him empanadas from the cafeteria, knowing how much he loved them. It has to be said that if there was one thing you could often bribe Miguel on, it was empanadas. That and maybe stroking his hair...

When he finally came out of the infirmary, a tiny celebration was held. He didn't like the idea at all, but you knew deep down that the intention behind it warmed his heart.

Life went back to what it used to be, with of course a slight change that surprised everyone.

As agreed, wherever he went, you went. Every spiderperson in the Society had obviously noticed the sudden change. From one day to the next, Miguel couldn't go anywhere without you by his side.

You went on walks with him in the park, you would always eat with him at the cafeteria, you were in his office whenever he was, and it felt to most spiders now that you two would eternally be inseparable.

The time finally came for Miguel to go on a mission, where you would work with him to catch the anomaly but above all to lend him your Spidersenses, which were working to the highest perfection.

The portal formed in front of you, Miguel tensing slightly. You put your hand on one of his shoulders and he turned to you.

"It's okay, I'm here" you remarked.

This simple fact lifted a weight from his shoulders as if by magic. He smiled at you before you put your mask on, his own mask pixelating on his face, and you stepped through the portal.

You reached a rooftop, the gate closing behind you. Silence fell and Miguel tensed. He had no idea where the danger might be coming from.

"Hey, look at me," you said simply.

He turned to you, still as uptight as ever.

"Just breath okay?"

He breathed in gently, relaxing his shoulders as he listened, a little more reassured by your simple presence.

You waited patiently, not moving an inch. And what if you couldn't feel certain sensations either?

But he had nothing to worry about, because you immediately took him by the arm and drew him against the wall of the roof exit, pressing your body against his as next to you a kind of big multicoloured puddle burst violently onto the ground right where you previously were.

He was breathing heavily, his back pressed against the wall, while you were as calm as when you had arrived. His head turned towards yours, your two masked faces immensely close.

"I meant it when I said I would protect you."

He chuckled.

Wherever you go, I'll go with you.

481 notes · View notes

sagesolsticewrites · 9 months ago

Note

hiya! ik it might be late for v-day prompts but could i request a buck x female reader with the prompts 'boo boo kiss' and 'pet names'? where he's gone on a mission all day and she's a base nurse? maybe he comes back all scraped up and a little delulu

thanks so much! xx

not too late at all, Nonnie! Thank you so much for requesting, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! (Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post, or check the tag “Sage’s Valentines” for some special Valentine’s Day prompts <3)

Obligatory disclaimer that I know absolutely nothing about head wounds nor how they were dealt with during WW2, we are running purely on vibes here 😇

Kiss It Better? 💋

Having been a base nurse at Thorpe Abbots for nearly three months now, you were no stranger to flirtatious soldiers. They would wander in between missions — usually to visit a friend on the mend in sickbay — and it became routine for them to try out one or two pickup lines on you. Sometimes they made you blush, but you knew it was all just a bit of fun for them. Had to get their entertainment somewhere, you supposed.

Major Gale Cleven, or “Buck” as everyone called him… he was different, though. The first time he’d come in to visit an injured comrade, you’d stood there frozen for at least a full ten seconds before coming back to yourself and leading him over to his friend.

It wasn’t just that he was handsome — though he absolutely was. It was the way he made real conversation with you in the rare moments where you didn’t have any pressing responsibilities, rather than a few silly lines to turn you red. He was… kind, and before too long you began to consider him a friend.

A friend you had a hopeless crush on, but a friend nonetheless.

Your fellow nurses, and even a few of the 100th Bomb Group took notice, and would quietly tease you whenever Buck came by — though he never seemed to notice how you blushed and swatted away the people who’d give you knowing smiles as they walked by.

Every time he went out on a mission, you held your breath, and thanked your lucky stars each time he wasn’t one of the soldiers being rushed to the sickbay upon their return.

Until he was.

You were in the middle of tending to poor Lt. Crosby after yet another bout of airsickness when Buck was rushed in. You froze, icy veins of fear gripping your heart, but quickly shook it off and went back to your current patient, mentally scolding yourself.

But Harry had noticed how the blood had drained from your face, and gently placed a hand over yours, stopping you.

“Go take care of him,” he smiled, nodding over to where Buck was being transferred to a bed, “I’ll be fine. Nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before.”

You eventually nodded, asking one of your fellow nurses to take over for you despite Harry’s protests that he was “perfectly fine, honest!” and made your way over to Buck’s cot in the corner of the room.

As you drew closer, you winced at the large bump that was clear on his temple, accompanied by various scrapes and bruises. According to the people that brought him in, the landing had been rougher than usual, and loose items in the plane had flown everywhere, leaving more than one soldier with bumps and bruises, but Buck seemed to have gotten the worst of it.

You attempted to remain professional, cataloging each injury and mentally checking off the supplies you’d need. Something seemed… off about Buck, though. Rather than a pained wince or even a brave attempt at his usual smile, Buck’s face transformed into a wide, uncharacteristic grin as you stood at his bedside.

“Hey,” he said in a dazed voice, your name sliding off his tongue with an ease that surprised you, given that he always called you by your last name and made sure to use the title of “Nurse” that you’d earned in wartime.

You nearly blushed at the charming, boyish expression on his face, wincing only slightly at the way the scrapes scattered across his face stretched with his smile, but remained as professional as you could, tending to his wounds with care and speed that spoke to your experience.

Buck rambled the entire time — this may have been the most you’d heard him speak since you met, and you soaked in every word. He rambled on about what happened in the air on this most recent mission, about his friends & family back home, about life in Wyoming.

“Got any pretty girls waiting for you back there?” You blurted out, fiddling with the bandages on his forehead and firmly avoiding eye contact.

“None as pretty as you, darlin’” Came his smooth reply, and good lord if hearing him call you that in that soft Southern drawl didn’t make you weak in the knees.

“Oh, hush, Major.” You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the smile fighting its way to your face, retreating back into the safety of professionalism.

“How are you feeling now? Those scrapes should heal up in no time, but you might have to hold off flying until that head wound clears up—”

“Might heal up faster if you kiss it better,” he grinned, dazed blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Heat flooded your face, and your mind went entirely blank.

Several subtle glances around the room confirmed that your fellow nurses were focused on their own patients. Not a single eye was on you and Buck in the corner.

Taking a moment to gather your courage, you steeled yourself before pressing your lips to Buck’s temple for the merest moment. You were sure your cheeks were nearly as red as your lipstick as you pulled away, checking again to make sure no one saw— the teasing from your colleagues would surely be merciless if they knew.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I can feel myself gettin’ better already,” Buck drawled with that same boyish grin, his fingertips resting over yours at the edge of the bed.

You jerked away, suddenly even more aware of the potential eyes on you.

“You should heal up just fine, Major. The docs will just need to run a couple tests before you’re clear to fly again.” You said before excusing yourself.

If only you hadn’t been in such a rush to get away.

You would’ve remembered to wipe off the bright red lipstick mark lingering on Buck’s forehead.

(Sorry, Nonnie 😇 I saw the opportunity for a cliffhanger here and I couldn’t resist… What could possibly happen next? 👀)

Read Part 2 here!

#Sage’s Valentines #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler major gale buck cleven #major gale cleven #masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #buck cleven #my writing #sage answers

313 notes · View notes

heartfeltcherie · 4 months ago

Note

hiya! I wanted to know if you could either do

A) An Alastor x G/N Reader angst thing where he’s having a 🤩mental💕breakdown🤞 and just…sobs to them while hugging them kinda? Idk I’m just feeling like a comfort/angst mood rn

B) Platonic headcanons of Lucifer x Teen!Reader where he basically adopted them.

IF YOU CANNOT THAT IS AOK, IM JUST BEGGING YOU PLEEEAAASSSEEE

— i kinda went a different route but i hope u enjoy nonetheless!

☾. °. ࿐ ` , •

the battle wasn’t supposed to end like this.

alastor was the one who should’ve killed adam. alastor was the one who was supposed to to leave a mark on that disgusting angel.

but here he was, sat on the floor in his beaten up radio tower, his wound open and leaving itty bitty cirlces of blood where he previously walked. he was rethinking his steps; how could i have possibly lost that?

he was distracted.

not only when his precious staff broke, but the entire time he was going back and forth with adam… he was thinking about you.

where were you during the fight? were you okay? were you hurt? you were still alive right?

you’re his darling doe, of course you’d still be alive.

because if you got hurt, or somehow ended up dead, he’d be ready to hunt down those idiotic extermination angels and use their screams in his next broadcast for everyone to know that-

“alastor?”

his eyes are wide and he didn’t even realize he was tugging on his hair, his face damp from… tears? what is this? he doesn’t shed tears, only his selected victims do. he stiffens up, takes his fingers out of his hair and stands up.

it hurts. the gash hurts. but he won’t let his face show it.

but you already know.

“mon cher… you’re alive. i knew my little doe would make it through” that’s a lie, he didn’t. he just hoped you would- is that a bruise around your eye? and a scar on your cheek? those bastards.

“i needed to. i had to get back to you, somehow”

oh, how his heart flutters at your little statement.

“oh, my dear…” alastor puts a gentle hand on your face, examining the bruise and scar at a closer angle. “they hurt you. i’m terribly sorry i wasn’t there in your defence” you put your hand around alastor’s wrist. “you don’t need to be sorry, al. you were busy with more important things” he hums. “to me, nothing is more important than you, doe”

you smile softly up at him. then your eyes trail down his body and the smile is quickly replaced with a frown.

“alastor, you’re bleeding! oh my god!” a surge of panic goes through you, acting as if your beloved deer demon might pass away in your arms if you didn’t act quickly. alastor chuckles, trying not to wince as he does so. “my dear, no need for all the dramatics. i’m perfectly fine! hardly a scratch!” you squint your eyes at him — now was not the time for his antics.

“if you don’t make bandages appear right now, i’m not gonna have tea with you in the morning for the rest of the week”

alastor rolls his eyes but complies nonetheless, snapping his fingers as some bandage rolls appear out of thin air. he hands you them; he’ll be even more damned if he doesn’t get to spend his morning quality time with you.

“sit” you notion to the chair he usually sits in. he follows your instructions as you kneel in front of him to get at a better angle.

you begin to put the roll of cloth material around your beloved deer demon’s wound, making sure it’s not too tight but also not too loose. you look up every once in a while to see his beautiful irises already looking at you and suddenly your fingers become clumsy and your a blushing and shy mess.

“nifty killed adam, by the way” you pipe up. “ahh, the little one finally got to stab something other than bugs” you finish wrapping the bandage around him, securing it with the clip it came with.

“it’s a good thing she did, otherwise i would have. when your shield broke, everyone… i thought… you were”

“dead?”

you don’t say anything, continuing to look at a nice piece of floor board that you suddenly thought was interesting while you were still kneeling on the floor in front of alastor. he uses his pointer finger to tilt your chin up.

“my dear. my darling doe,” all those pet names made your face feel like molten lava — and you’re sure you looked the part, too. “you should know that, of all beings, adam wouldn’t have been able to kill me. he’s far too messy and lacks control”

“but your wound? he got to you”

alastor stands up from his chair, putting his hand out for you to take. of course you do, and his hand is nice and warm compared to yours as he guides you up off the floor. he’s still holding your hand as his thumb glides over your knuckles in a soothing manner.

everyone would call you crazy if you said the feared radio demon was gentle with you; so soft and careful. but the butterflies in your tummy and the flutter of your heart says that it was all meant to be… for you.

“that’s hardly a topic of conversation, mon chérie. a worthy discussion, if i may,” he puts his empty hand, that isn’t holding yours, up against your cheek, cupping it. he uses his thumb on that hand to gently caress your skin. “is how… ravishing… you still look. even after the tell tale signs of a battle” you can’t help but to lean into his touch.

“and there you go, changing the topic of conversation, again” you sigh, eyes half lidded. “i don’t hear any complaints from your end” you shake your head because no… there wasn’t anything to complain about.

“not one bit, al. not one bit”

comments/reblogs are appreciated! ♡ let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

also, check out our discord server :) click right here

tags; @crystalrayn @drxgonspine @alastorthirsty @speedycoffeedelight

#❥ lexi’s daydreams #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x you #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fluff #alastor fanfiction #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel blurb #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader

120 notes · View notes

the-laughing-lunatic · 4 months ago

Note

Hiya! I was wondering if you could how would the tf2 crew act with a reader who has chronic pain. I would like it to be platonic.Thank you and Have a wonderful day ☺

(ofc! I tried to do my research but I don’t have chronic pain, apologies if anything is wrong :< thanks for requesting!)

Scout, Medic, Spy, Engie, and Heavy w/ a reader who has chronic pain (PLATONIC)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☆Scout☆

He doesn’t get it at first honestly

Once you explain it more he feels really bad for you

Like you just hurt? All the time? And he can’t rlly do anything to make it go away?

If you have to cancel plans of going somewhere to hang out he’ll stay with you inside

“Scout, are you sure you don’t want to go with the rest of the team to get drinks? I don’t want to make you stay in my room.”

“Pally, I’m happy as hell bein’ here. You’re my bud, I ain’t just gonna leave ya here when you already feel like shit. Now just relax, aight? Back to what I was sayin’, lemme tell ya ‘bout the time I absolutely destroyed alla BLU…”

Major yapper alert

Perfectly content with just being near to you, he likes being entertaining for you to at least distract you from the pain

☆Medic☆

The most educated about it (obviously)

Constantly has all your meds on hand along with refills

Is a huge hypocrite about making sure you’re okay

“You must sleep now fruend, it is twenty-two right now and you need your rest.”

“Medic you haven’t slept in four days.”

“That is entirely beside the point.”

(mf looks thru ur window to make sure ur actually sleeping /unreality)

Is intrigued about how your pain is triggered by certain things and will want to run experiments (dw he’ll undo whatever he did w/ his medigun and give you a lollipop)

Will offer you different surgeries to help but they all seem a little too experimental in nature

Will give you the privilege of feeding his doves if you’re having a bad pain episode

☆Spy☆

Relates to you somewhat (I headcanon him as a cane user)

Always has his smoking room open to you if you need a place to rest

If you’re sensitive to sound his room is perfect

It’s far from the other rooms and common areas, and if he is there with you he is often just reading a book with the occasional glance to make sure you don’t need anything

Never says it but he does enjoy your company a lot

You notice after a while that theres stock of all the things you typically use for pain episodes

“Spy? Why are there heat packs in here?”

“Ah, those are for me, but please feel free to use them if you would like.”

“...don’t you just only use cold packs for your pain?”

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

“Alright. …thanks.”

Does a lot of favors for you secretly, and knows you know it’s him but he’ll still never say it outright

☆Engineer☆

Literally has a mental list of foods that you should and shouldn’t eat if youre having a pain episode and will act like a strict parent abt it

“No more soda for you, it ain’t gonna help ya with that pain of yours. If ya need a drink I got some tea that’ll actually help ya.”

“But–”

“No buts, tea, water, or nothin’.”

“Fine, I’ll have some water.”

In his workshop he’ll come up with loads of gadgets to try to make your life easier :3

Will prolly make a robot for you to do your menial tasks that take up too much energy

☆Heavy☆

Is there constantly to help you with anything you need

You don’t have the energy to make yourself a coffee? Boom, he’s got it for you.

Debating whether or not it’s worth it to do the laundry to then be in bad pain all day? He already did it hours ago.

He’ll offer you to join him exercising to help with the pain

“Ugh, h- heavy I’ve done thirty pushups already, can we quit?”

“Net, exercise good for you.”

“C’mon! I’m already in pain, can’t you give me a little mercy?”

“And now are in different pain, da? This one good!”

Dw, he makes sure to not actually push you past your limits

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #scout tf2 #medic tf2 #spy tf2 #engineer tf2 #heavy tf2 #scout tf2 x reader #medic tf2 x reader #spy tf2 x reader #engineer tf2 x reader #heavy tf2 x reader #fanfiction #x reader

90 notes · View notes

louloulemons-posts · 1 year ago

Text

Cinderella and Warm Milk

Eddie Munson x SingleMom!Reader

Part One : Margot

Part Three : Cuddles and Stew

Summary : Eddies first night looking after Margot.

Word Count : 1.8k

Warnings : FLUFF. Pure family fluff. Girl dad Eddie. Minor mention of Chrissys death. Little bit of sad baby Margot. A whole lot of cuteness.

Authors note : I just wanted to say a huge thank you for all of the support on my recent fics, it’s so kind of you all. I hope you enjoy this addition to Margot, Eddie and the reader 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Hello?” A familiar voice spoke.

“Hey Wayne, is Eddie there?” you asked.

“Uh yeah he is, let me just get him for you Sweetheart.” You heard a muffled shout, “Eddie.” Wayne clearly covering the phone with his hand to save your ear.

“Hey gorgeous,” he spoke, you could hear his grin. “Hiya Eds. I’m really sorry to ask, but could you do me a huge favour?”

“Sure baby, what’s up?”

“Me and Maeve have accidentally double booked something. She’s going on a date with Annie that I refuse to let her cancel,” he hummed understanding why.

“But I can’t get out of my shift. Would you be okay to watch Margot?” Eddie went quiet on the other end. “You know what I know it’s a big ask, I’ll figure it all out-” he cut you off.

“You trust me to do that?” You laughed at that.

“Of course I do. And she loves you so much, so do I. So could you?”

“Sure I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

There was a knock on the door. “Eddie Eddie Eddie!” Margot squealed running towards it.

Chuckling, you picked up the girl, sliding the latch and pulling the door open. There he was. “Eddie!” Margot leaned forward holding out her arms to him.

“Hey Sweetheart,” he smiled, taking her from you and hugging her close. “And hello you,” he said before pecking your lips. “I can’t say thank you enough for this.”

“It’s no big deal, we’re gonna have fun right?” he asked Margot, who nuzzled into his neck and smiled.

“Well she’s had dinner, and her jammies are on the couch for her. You know where her nappies and everything are right?” you asked, to which he nodded. “Great, her bedtime is 7:30. If she doesn’t settle, warm milk and Cinderella. Her bottles are in the cupboard by the glasses. And if you need me just call-”

“Baby breath. We’ve got this. Don’t worry we will be perfectly fine. We’re gonna get into our jammies and play for a while and then, get tucked into bed. Go to work,” he pecked your lips.

“Okay okay. Margot baby, you be good for Eddie, I’ll see you in the morning,” you took her back from Eddie, cuddling her. It was the first time you’d left her with someone who wasn’t Maeve and you had to be honest you were nervous. But it was Eddie. Your Eddie. The Eddie who loved you and Margot.

“Mm’kay Mama,” she smiled, giving you a slobbery kiss to the cheek. “Okay I’ve got to run,” you gave Margot and Eddie final kisses and were on your way. “Bye Mama,” Margot waved. “Bye My Love.”

“Okay kid, jammies?” he asked, holding his hand out to the small girl. She nodded and took it. It was almost 6:30 so she must have been getting tired. He smiled seeing that you’d left her a pair of pink pyjamas with small white bunnies on, a fresh diaper, wipes and baby powder.

“You want to use the potty before we get you dressed?” She made an affirmative noise, so the pair headed to the bathroom. “You need help?” Eddie asked her.

“Pick up.” He lifted her on to her toilet seat and turned around, giving her some privacy.

“Done!” she said a few moments later. After the pair cleaned their hands they went back to the couch. Once her diaper was in place and she was comfy, he helped her step into her pyjamas pants, and slid her shirt over her head.

“There you go, nice and snug.”

“Eddie jammies?” she tilted her head slightly.

“Okay I’ll get mine on.” He paused, did he just leave her here? Did he take her with him? Was that weird? Should he stress over this? Probably not, but here he was.

She looked at him with her big eyes. “Drink pwease,” she said. Okay there’s a plan, he lifted her up and placed her into her high chair making sure she was secure. “What do you want to drink kid?”

“Juice!”

Moments later she had juice in hand, wiggling in her seat happily. “Okay Eddies just gonna get changed, you sit tight okay?”

“‘kay!” she copied.

“Okay,” he huffed, running to the bathroom, changing as fast as he could to sprint back to her.

“Jammies Eddie!” she squealed.

“Yeah kiddo,” he smiled, picking her up out of her seat. He wore a simple black tee with a pair of grey flannel pants, tying his hair back in a low ponytail. He read 7:00 on the clock. “So kid what do you want to do for the next half an hour?”

“Story!”

“Okay let’s go pick a story.”

They went over to the bookshelf in the living room, the lowest shelf full of her books. “Which one do you want?” Eddie asked, placing her on the floor. “Not these! Eddie story!” she exclaimed, as if it’s something he should have known.

“Eddies story?” she hummed and smiled up at him. “Eddie story book!” Oh! He knew what she meant now, she’d seen him reading the Hobbit in bed the last time he stayed over.

He grabbed his bag and pulled out his worn copy that Wayne had brought him not long after he moved in with him. “Come on then Kid, let me educate you on Hobbits.” She laughed at that. “What’s so funny?” he asked, unable to keep a straight face as she cackled. “Hobbits’ what’s a hobbits’?” she laughed.

“Well I’ll tell you all about them, but we have to get nice and comfy. So let’s get bunny and your dummy and have a cuddle okay?”

“‘kay,” she said still giggling a bit.

Sat comfy by Eddies side, he opened the book and began to read. “In a hole in the ground lived a hobbit.” Margot let out another laugh.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Half an hour later, Eddie closed the book and looked down at the small snoring girl next to him. Gently moving himself, he picked her up, placing her head on his shoulder, and grabbing her bunny.

Climbing the stairs, his heart melted as she snuggled into him. Laying her down carefully he clicked on her nightlight and place her bunny in her arms. “Goodnight kid, I love you.”

“Wove you Da,” she mumbled back. That had become a common thing when she was tired, she’d called him Da, or Daddy. But he was mostly still Eddie. He didn’t mind, he’d love her no matter what.

He kissed her head and left the room, heading back downstairs to see what needed to be done for you. The house was mainly clean, just some washing up that needed putting away, which he did with ease.

He closed the blinds and curtains, turning on a few lamps here and there. Settling down to continue his magical adventure.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Mama! Mommy!” Eddie jumped awake to the sound of a familiar shout. Margot. Running up the stairs he saw the small girl walking out of her mothers room. “Mama,” she cried, extremely upset.

“Hey kiddo,” he said gently, not wanting to scare her. “Daddy!” she cried, running to him. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and cried harder. “Hey kiddo, it’s okay.” She sobbed. “It’s okay baby, Daddy’s got you,” he rocked her gently in his arms, shushing her.

He did take your advice and took her downstairs, placing her on the sofa and turning on Cinderella. Once he was sure she would be alright he headed to the kitchen to warm some milk for the pair.

Checking it wasn’t too hot, he handed her bottle over, which seemed to comfort her straight away. Watching the beautiful princess on the screen and giggling at Gus Gus she seemed more like herself.

“You feeling better baby?” he asked brushing her curls. “Mhm. Cuddle?” she titled her head.

He nodded, taking her bottle and placing it by his empty glass. He lifted the girl and lay down, putting her on his chest. Her head rested in his neck and she snuggled in, placing her dummy back in and grabbing her bunny tightly.

Eddie pulled a blanket over the pair of them and rubbed her back, gently playing with her curls every now and again. 10:56 the clock read.

The movie finished. Margot had been asleep for a while, since Cinderella went to the ball actually, but he didn’t want to risk moving her. He sat up carefully, placing her on the couch, making sure she was snuggled up.

Placing the glass and bottle in the sink, he began to turn off the lamps, minus the one in the front hall so you got in safe. He walked back to see Margot still snoozing and couldn’t help but smile.

He never thought he’d get this, he knew he wasn’t her biological dad, but his heart melted that she saw him as that. That she loved him as that. That you loved him. He thought after what happened with Chrissy he’d be alone forever.

He shook his head to remove the thought, he had you and Margot, Wayne and Maeve. He had his friends too, who also adored Margot, thinking she was the cutest thing.

Carefully picking her up, he draped the blanket over the back of the couch. Grabbing his book and her bunny in one hand, holding her with the other.

When he placed Margot down on her bed she whined, pulling his back down to her. “Stay,” she mumbled, half asleep still. Bringing her too him again, he turned off her nightlight and carried her to your room.

Placing the book on the bedside table, he tucked both of them in. Margot snoozed up against his chest, he kissed her head. “Goodnight baby, Daddy loves you.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

3:30am. Walking into the house, you slipped off your shoes and sighed. That had been a hell of a shift, but the tips were great. Your home was silent, the lamp in the hall left on which you smiled at, knowing it was a gesture of Eddies love.

Hanging your bag on the hook, you headed up the stairs. Popping your head into Margots room you became confused. She wasn’t there.

Trying not to panic, you almost jogged to your own room. Heart melting at the sight that greeted you. Eddie and Margot cuddled up together.

Changing into your own pyjamas, you climbed in next to them, cuddling in. Eddie kissed your forehead, still very much asleep, pulling you closer, but leaving enough room for Margot not to be squished.

This was the most loved you’d felt in so long. You, Eddie and your girl, Margot. Your little family.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

453 notes · View notes