#and shes more their mom than master half the time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

explorevenus · 3 months ago

Text

dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5.1k

tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n

description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....

divider by @cafekitsune !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles.

That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now.

A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems.

Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make.

Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space.

Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side.

That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...

...and the reason he had you.

For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.

"She's a... what?"

"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon."

Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly.

You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you.

"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?"

The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment.

"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.

That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.

He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while.

With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true.

You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall.

He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge.

See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it.

It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab.

Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was.

No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.

Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged.

His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that.

Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open.

Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!"

He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response.

His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now.

It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression.

"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view.

He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you.

"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."

And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.

"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him.

But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct.

"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?"

"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!"

You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed?

He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato."

With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be.

"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot."

"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"

You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.

That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.

This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you.

"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--"

"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!"

Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile.

How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to.

"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!"

But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half.

"Leon, quit--"

You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.

Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."

Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him.

"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner.

So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs.

Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh.

Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?"

There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him.

"N-No," You admitted.

"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?"

This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him.

For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat.

"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"

Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind.

"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now."

A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles.

It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears.

That just wouldn't do.

"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?"

Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you.

Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.

You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass.

Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either.

But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality.

His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in.

"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..."

Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first.

As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him.

Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure.

Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.

Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now.

In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago.

Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort.

Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #re6 leon #leon kennedy smut

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rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months ago

Text

daddys home

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, establish relationship (theyre married!), dad!rafe, mom!reader, p in v sex (protected), female receiving oral, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, readers stretch marks are described briefly

“when is daddy getting home?” your daughter asks for what feels like the millionth time since rafe left for work this morning.

you sigh, rubbing your forehead, hoping it alieves your splitting headache. “any minute now, poppy. why don't you go get a cup of water for him and leave it on the counter?”

you know that the task will occupy her for some time, having to drag her step stool that she uses when helping you cook around the kitchen to get a cup and fill it.

you let out a breath of relief when you hear rafe pull into the driveway.

“daddy! daddy!” poppy hears the noise as well, running to the garage door, jumping up and down excitedly as she waits for rafe to come in.

she jump-tackles him as soon as he opens the door. rafe laughs, catching her in his arms.

“hi baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of her head, toeing his shoes off onto the mat.

“welcome home.” you say, moving over to rafe, pressing your face into the shoulder that poppy isn't currently resting hers against.

“you okay?” rafe whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. he sets poppy down carefully, only half listening as she begins to tell him about getting rafe a water all by herself like a big girl.

“yeah, she's just been… a lot today.” you sigh, wrapping your arms around rafes waist, snuggling into his warm body.

“hey, poppy. wanna spend the night at aunt wheezies?” rafe asks.

“yes! yes! yes!” poppy screams, quickly flying up the stairs to her room with her unstoppable toddler energy to pack a bag.

“thank you.” you look to rafe, taking a moment to press a kiss to his lips.

“wheeze has been begging to have her over, she'll be so happy.” rafe says, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “and you can get a real break.”

“god, i need it too.” you laugh, pulling away from rafe but not before giving him another kiss. “i love poppy to death, but she can be so exhausting some days.”

“aw, baby.” rafe coos. “why don't you go get in the bath, ill help poppy pack a bag then take her over the wheezies.”

“mmm, sounds perfect, can't wait to spend a night just us.” you wink at rafe before both heading further into the house and up the stairs. poppy has had a string of clinginess lately, especially at night knowing you and rafe are just down the hall, so she fakes nightmares to sleep in your bed.

it's nice having her so close, but at the same time you haven't been intimate with rafe in months.

“poppy.” you call into her room, seeing her stuffing pajamas into her backpack. “you be good for auntie wheezie, okay? ill pick you up in the morning and if you behaved, we can go to the park.”

“okay, mommy.” poppy nods, a serious look on her face.

“daddy is gonna help you pack then take you over.” you finish, looking to rafe.

“thank you again babe.” you whisper, rubbing your thumb over his cheek before heading towards your bedroom. you turn on the hot tap in the master bath, letting the jacuzzi tub fill as you scrounge in the cabinets for your epsom salt.

you let out a groan when you sink into the bath, eyes closing as you relax into the hot water, your muscles finally getting a break after entertaining poppy all day.

you relax in the bath until the water starts to turn room temperature. you pull the drain before getting out, toweling yourself dry. you go through your skincare routine quickly before pulling your robe on.

you exit the bathroom to see rafe on the bed, back against the headboard, having changed out of his work clothes to sweats.

“was she excited?” you question.

“poppy or wheezie?” rafe jokes, a soft smile on his face. “both of them were so excited, but i think wheeze might have more fun than poppy does.”

“that's good.” you laugh before taking a deep sigh.

“how are you feeling now?” rafe asks, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. you move to stand in front of him, letting your knees press into the side of the mattress.

“a million times better. no more headache.”

“good.” rafe tugs at the strap on your robe, not hard enough to undo it, but making his intentions clear. “wanna lay down?”

“just lay down?” you smirk, raising one eyebrow.

“if that's what you want,” rafe takes your hands in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips, pressing kisses along your skin. “mrs. cameron.”

“i want you.” you tell rafe, taking your hand out of his grasp to tug your robe open, revealing yourself to him. you slide the fabric off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

“you're so beautiful.” rafe says, eyes sweeping over your naked body. he rubs a hand over your stomach, the small lines running over your skin, the physical reminder of your pregnancy.

“this part of you is the most beautiful.” rafe leans forward, kissing the stretch marks. “because it shows that you carried our daughter. kept her safe inside you for nine months until he she was ready to see the world.”

“you're gonna make me cry.” you sniffle, feeling tears start to form.

“wanna make you cry a different way.” rafe says, standing up suddenly while turning you swiftly, pushing your hips down so now you're the one sat on the edge of the mattress.

rafe sinks down to his knees, spreading your thighs open for him, revealing your cunt.

“you know-” you gasp when rafe begins to kiss along your inner thighs, inching closer to your center. “i was worried when i first got pregnant that you wouldn’t be attracted to me after i gave birth.”

“really?” rafe questions. “why would you ever worry about something as impossible as that?”

“pregnancy brain.” you shrug, eyes fluttering closed as rafe spreads your thighs further, wrapping his hand around your ankle and bringing your heel up onto the bed.

“well, mrs. cameron-” rafe leans in, licking a stripe straight through your folds. “no need to worry anymore, i find you very attractive.”

you smile, bringing one hand to rafes hair, clutching it between your finger as he dives in, tongue swiping through your wetness, tasting you on his tongue. rafe works his way up from your entrance to your clit before lapping over the sensitive skin there.

“taste so good mama.” rafe hums, letting his tongue flick and play with your clit. you let out a cry, glad that you’re able to be as loud as you want with poppy out of the house.

“more.” you whine.

“all these years later, carrying my baby and you're still my little slut.” rafe tsks, bringing his finger to your entrance and plunging it in, thrusting in and out slowly as his lips wrap around your clit, giving gentle sucks to build you up, tease you.

“can’t wait for you to fuck me.” you toss your head back, pushing your hips even further into rafes face.

“yeah, you miss my cock?”

“all the time.” you whine, bringing your other foot onto the bed as well, spreading your knees wide open to give rafe even more space to work into you as he adds a second finger.

“you think after being married for five years you’d be sick of me.” rafe jokes, but you shake your head.

“never, daddy.” the nickname impacts rafe differently now that he is actually a dad, knowing it comes from a different place.

“god, i was gonna have you cum on my tongue three times before i fucked you, but i need you too badly.” rafe stands up, but not before pressing another kiss to your clit, now puffy and red from the attention.

rafe hesitates before reaching for the nightstand drawer, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but before you can comment on it, he is removing his clothes and rolling the condom onto his length and lining himself up with your cunt.

he rubs briefly through your folds before pushing in, sinking into your pussy. you let out a loud moan, unafraid to get interrupted by your daughter as rafe copies your moan right back.

“such a perfect pussy for me baby.” rafe coos, beginning to pump his hips forward. you wrap your legs around his hips as he leans forward, pushing until your back is resting against the sheets. he hovers over you, pressing your lips together.

you moan into his mouth, moving your hips up and down in sync with his thrusts. your bare chests are rubbing together, yours still slightly damp from the bath. your nipples catch as rafe moves, making you whimper.

“so big.” you cry out, hands moving along rafes back, feeling the cords of muscles as they stretch with his movements.

“filling you up real good, huh?” rafe smirks, cocky that he can still get you in this state just from his dick.

“so good.” you turn your head to bite rafes earlobe, tugging on it. “you know,-” you gasp when rafe speeds up. “this is the same position we were in when i got pregnant with poppy.”

you remember the night well, when you ran out of condoms and decided together fuck it, were married, and you were blessed with your little girl soon after.

“yeah? want me to take the condom off mama? fill your belly up again?” rafe asks, moving a thumb to your clit, rubbing it quickly.

“yeah, daddy, yeah i do- fuck!” your back arches off the bed as rafe pumps faster, your body quivering as his thumb strokes you to orgasm, the tightening of your cunt causing him to spill into the condom.

rafe breaths heavily, hips slowly grinding into you as you work through your highs.

rafe pulls out as you try to stop your deep gasps of breaths. he pulls the condom off and tosses it in the trash can before climbing back onto the bed, flopping down next to you.

“were you serious?” rafe asks.

you don't need any more context to know exactly what rafe is referring to.

“i wouldn't mind having another baby.” you say honestly. “besides, poppy will start kindergarten in around a year, so think about in around nine months having another little one.” you feel yourself already beginning to tear up at the thought, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“oh, baby.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling you into him. “well, since poppy is still at aunt wheezies…” rafe trails off, moving his hand from your waist lower to cup your pussy. “we can get trying right now.”

“it only took you one try for poppy.” you remind rafe, slinging your leg over rafes body, twisting yourself to sit on top of him, rubbing your cunt over his length.

“yeah…” rafe places his hands on your hips, flipping you over so your back is against the bed. “but maybe i want more than one try.” rafe says as his cock slides back inside of you.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you

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wileycap · 3 months ago

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At the intersection of crack and tragedy, I have this fic idea about Zuko getting time looped during the day of his Agni Kai.

The first few loops are painful and traumatic. (Well, they're all painful and traumatic, but after the first fifty times... even getting half your face burned off by your own father gets old.)

After a while, he manages to stay awake long enough to hear Iroh crying at his bedside, begging for Zuko to stay. Pleading with the spirits, please, not him too.

(And then it takes more time for him to realize who visits him after Iroh falls asleep. She doesn't say anything.)

Zuko makes a Plan.

In the mornings, he tracks down Iroh or any experienced firebender, and he learns. So what if he isn't good? He'll make up for it the same way he always does: with hard work. He has the time.

(One of these days, Uncle won't have to spend the evening crying to the spirits.)

He gets better. Far better than he has any right to be. Iroh is thrilled on the days when he manages to catch him and not one of the other masters. Every time, the other masters barely tolerate him until he shows them. Iroh is always patient and kind.

Middays are reserved for Azula. A sister is a sister, and maybe... maybe Azula just needed somebody after Mom left.

(Zuko got that wrong, too. He's pretty sure he died the first time, and this is the spirits punishing him for being a bad son, a bad brother, a bad prince. He'll get it right, eventually.)

And at sunset, he still tries to plead with his father. Ozai will never hear him, but he has to try.

(A few hundred burns to the face can make you hate a man.)

But no matter how hard he tries, he can't beat Ozai. His skills improve, but his body doesn't - it will always be thirteen, with undeveloped chi paths he can barely break through to, and Ozai is a man in his prime.

Until one day he fights so well that Ozai halts the battle. He has the old general (after all this time, Zuko has completely forgotten the general) brought up, and orders Zuko to give him a mark of shame. To prove himself a good son and a good prince.

He stands above the general and looks at his tears and his shaking hands and his panicked eyes and he understands.

This time, Zuko earns his scar with pride.

(And when Iroh cries at his bedside, he reaches out and squeezes his Uncle's hand: I'm here, I'm not leaving.)

(And later, when Azula comes in with her soft steps and doesn't say anything, Zuko cracks open his good eye and gives her a smile.)

(And when he and Iroh set out the next morning, it is with purpose.)

(They leave behind a princess who knows that her father is not invincible.)

#avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #atla zuko #atla fic #time loop #iroh #uncle iroh #ozai #azula #i don't know if the agni kai was at sunset or sunrise or either but if it's at sunset that works better for the fic. so. you understand.

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ladyloveandjustice · 3 months ago

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So I have no stake in ships in Avatar the Last Airbender, I do not have any real ships for the show. But when I was looking in Katara's tag for art and stuff, I saw this reoccuring claim that Katara always supported Aang with his problems and feelings, but that Aang never supported her back with hers.

And I don't care about the ships, but I do really like the friendships in Avatar, and that bothers me. It's a slight on Aang, but also on Katara (implying she wouldn't stand up for herself and break it off if a friend was all take and no give, which doesn't fit her personality at all.)

Aang does support Katara whenever he gets the chance, which is unfortunately few and far between because Katara seems to have a hard time leaning on the people she cares about and talking in depth about her own trauma and feelings about it, though she will do so when she literally doesn't care what the person thinks about her (and both times she opened up to Zuko about her Mom initially were her lashing out at him and not caring what he thought about her in return).

This would be something that would need to be addressed for a romantic relationship between them to truly work, and I imagine it would be part of the journey of finding a way to stay together, but it's very much not Aang's fault. And as I said, when he gets a chance to support her she does. Since I just recently rewatched most of the series, have a list of those times!

-His first time being supportive of her is literally a half hour after they first meet. As soon as she tells him about wanting more waterbending experience, he enthusiastically offers to fly all the way to the north pole so they can find her a master. And this very clearly means a lot to her.

-I don't think Aang knew how supportive of her he was being here, but there's the "I haven't done this since I was a kid" "You still are a kid!' exchange. As much as people accuse Aang of seeing Katara as his Mom (he's literally the one character who doesn't express that he does in The Runaway btw and I think that's for a reason) their first interaction establishes that he sees her as a kid, just like him, and think she should have fun like a kid does. This must have been huge for Katara, who'd been forced to take on adult responsibilities at a young age, who resented having to hold the family together, who thought her childhood was over. Aang helped her have fun and be the kid she is, and he'll continue to do so.

-When she lost her mother's necklace (And Zuko subsequently stole it) he was very concerned for her feelings and seemed to immediately understand the weight of that loss, due to his own experiences with loss. Not only did he make her a new necklace to wear as a way to comfort her, as soon as he saw Zuko had it he said "you're giving that back to me" and risked being hit by Zuko in his attempts to grab it. Then he gave it back to her and she was ecstatic!

-He was so supportive of her during the waterbending scroll episode it's actually ridiculous, despite how she lashed out at him. It's unclear if he actually understood she was upset or if this was just his unwavering respect for her coming out, but when she was upset that he learned the first move faster than her he said "well you didn't have such a great teacher!" and it clearly makes her feel better for a bit. He immediately forgives her for lashing out at him, doesn't judge her at all for stealing the waterbending scroll, or for accidentally dragging them into trouble. He, in fact, goes out of the way to reassure her, looking happy at the chance to work together and reminding her they need two waterbenders. And he appreciates her joke at the end (he's just straight up being simp (affectionate) there, and I get it).

-When Pakku won't teach her he immediately denounces him as wrong and unfair and is willing to sacrifice his own education (which he needs to save the world) because he won't stand for it. He remains upset about it even after Katara persuades him, tries to secretly show her what Pakku taught him, and cheers her on when she fights him.

-When she's crying over Jet's death, he's the first one to notice and reach out to her, putting his hand gently on her shoulder and drawing her into a hug (that becomes a group hug). She smiles and clearly feels comforted. They probably talked about it offscreen too (but this cannot be shown as they would need to directly acknowledge his death to do so)

-He's pretty much always praising her as a teacher, and when she grumbles about him not calling her Sifu, he goes out of his way to call her that.

-He notices that she's mad at her Dad and asks her about it, but she deflects

-He looks really sad when he has to remind her she has to take off her mother's necklace for their Fire Nation disguises, again it's something he very much seems to empathize with her about, he understands the weight of what it means to her.

-He not only doesn't judge her for lying during the Painted Lady saga, but praises her and enthusiastically helps her commit ecoterrorism.

-Both he and Sokka move to comfort her when she's crying after the bloodbending fiasco. Most of the comforting of her happens offscreen, which I do think is a shame, and a contrast to how Aang is handled- but it's more of a "he's the main character" thing, since the same happens for Sokka as well (I'm sure Katara and Aang talked to him about Yue's death and at least tried to comfort him, but we don't get to see that).

-He was trying to support her during the Southern Raiders ep, whether you believe he did it well or not, both according to his beliefs and cultural values and by trying to emulate the ways she's talked HIM down from revenge and hatred in the past. He specifically brings up those two incidents- losing his people and losing Appa- where she stepped in to keep him from losing himself to rage. As this post notes, he also specifically echoes her phrasing from when she was urging him not to lose himself to the Avatar state (she says "watching you be in that much rage and pain is really scary" and he echoes "you're feeling unbelievable pain and rage" while talking to her in this ep.)

It's not just the air nomads he's trying to emulate here, but her. Just like Katara doesn't want to see him consumed by hatred and pain, he wants the same for her. His concern is not for her mother's killer, but for her, he fears this will hurt her, just like her concern was always for him and how this would hurt him in those times he was raging.

He wants to do for her what she did for him. But, Katara is not him. She is not someone who will be talked down by someone else when she is grieving, angry, and looking for revenge. Nobody can stop her when she sets her mind to it. She needs to wrestle with whether to kill him and she needs to come to her own conclusions, because she's the only one that can stop her. And Aang realizes that. He says it's a journey she'll have to take on her own, that she needs to face him doesn't stand in her way.

(I wonder if it kind of hurt, deep down, that he couldn't reach her the way she always reached him. I wonder if he felt upset that he couldn't find the right words like she did for him. But I don't think there were any right words. She needed him to step back. It was her choice to make. So he did.)

And in the end, he was correct that she didn't want to do it. She did choose that based on her own feelings and values.

His assumption Katara not killing the guy = forgiveness is definitely him just kind of applying his assumptions and values, but when she says she doesn't forgive him, he doesn't like, judge her or anything that we can see.

So yeah, quite a few examples! It can feel lopsided because more attention is paid to Aang and Katara's personality affects things.

Katara is both open about her emotions and not. She's someone who will look after other's feelings but not really discuss her own pain with people she cares about, until it all builds up and bursts out.

And it's not surprising she's most concerned about Aang, if my friend had recently (from his perspective) survived a genocide where he lost everyone he loved and was now tasked with saving the world at twelve years old, I'd be pretty worried about him and want to support him too! Aang goes through a lot by virtue of being the protagonist, he has the most pressure on him, he's routinely in the most danger, he literally dies for a few minutes. It's not surprising Katara has more opportunities to comfort him, but he unfailingly supports her in any of her problems of goals (when they're not murder) when he can.

I do think there's some missed opportunities to explore Katara and develop their relationship, but it doesn't make Aang a bad, unsupportive friend, or Katara his Mom and not his peer.

#aang #katara #will i ever stop with the meta posts i dunno why was this so long #avatar the last airbender #meta #atla

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streetlightyeri · 4 months ago

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oklahoma smokeshow ; t.o

"cause you're a small town smokeshow."

w.c.: 6275

content: lovers to enemies (?) to lovers, angst, fluff, do i have to disclose natural disasters lol, death of a family member, no beta, and as always: FMC is named but has no descriptors

The thunder rumbled around Harlow, the sky turning blue with every flash of lightning. These circumstances aren’t what she pictured coming back to Oklahoma to be; the forecasted unprecedented storm week seemed like it was less of a random once-in-a-generation weather cell and more like a physical amalgamation of her emotions. She spent the entire plane ride pretending to be asleep with her head covered so the flight attendants didn’t see her tears; her seat partner acted like he didn’t hear the occasional sniffle. Harlow was grateful for that.

The rental she chose was the last truck on the lot: a Toyota Tacoma with an Arkansas license plate. She wanted to kick the metal plate and pretend it was her ex’s University of Arkansas alumni plate. Instead, she pretended to be normal, and climbed in, immediately turning on the seat warmers and relaxing against the leather. She pulled the seat up the farthest it could go; whoever rented before her practically had it brushing against the back row.

She felt like she was back in high school, driving her dad’s truck to Dairy Queen with her friends. Now, she couldn’t even remember the last time she saw a truck. She spent most of her time on the metro or in a yellow taxi. After her and Tyler’s blowup breakup, Harlow declined her full ride admission to University of Oklahoma and accepted a spot at Columbia University. She fantasized about him showing up at the airport to wish her luck; he didn’t. Similar to how she just did, she pretended to be asleep while she cried on the plane to JFK.

Tyler Owens got famous - there was no other way to say it. He was a hot-shot storm chaser with seemingly little regard for the dangers. But Harlow knew; he was calculative and a downright mathematical genius when it came to tornadoes. He completed his degree in meteorology a year early with high honors. He walked summa cum laude. Harlow watched the livestream. When she walked across stage in her powder blue cap and gown, she couldn’t help but wonder if he did the same. Or if he did it when she walked again two years later for her Masters. And again when she walked four and a half years later for her PhD.

She didn’t just run from him: she ran from the town of Clearwater, Oklahoma. Harlow was . . . a smokeshow. There was no denying it. But she was more than just attractive and Prom Queen. She was valedictorian, president of the Beta and Spanish Clubs, the organizer of natural disaster relief programs across the county. But everyone in Clearwater saw her as one thing: Tyler Owens’ pretty girlfriend who would soon be nothing more than a passing face on the street with a baby on her hip with another on the way. And Harlow couldn’t deny that maybe . . . just maybe she would’ve enjoyed that. But there were so many things that she couldn’t do in Clearwater, so many opportunities outside of the county lines.

But Tyler didn’t want that. He found out she applied to more than just UO and laughed at her. He asked what she could possibly want to do that wasn’t already in Clearwater, asked if she thought she’d be able to leave her mom. And Harlow couldn’t answer. She had nothing concrete that she wished for; she had nondescript dreams of moving away. She spent so long being what everyone wanted her to be, she had no clue what else there was to wish for - what else there was to be.

Their argument was one of her core memories, and in the Tacoma, even with the radio on and the thunder nearly shaking the road, she could hear everything like she was there again, that night 2 weeks after Prom as she helped him clean up his gear from his first ride of the season.

Tyler threw his rope down against his saddle. “If you hate it here so much, maybe we shouldn’t be together then!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t!”

The empty arena was completely silent. The groan of the tin roof in the gentle breeze was the only thing that interrupted the tense moment.

He swallowed hard, but didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from her. “Is . . . is that what you really want?”

Harlow tried to shrink in on herself, wrapping her arms around her torso, still wearing his sweatshirt. “I don’t - I don’t know, Tyler. The problem is I don’t know what I want, just what everyone else does. It’s just - you can’t understand. You’ll never be able to understand.” She dropped her arms and opted to lean against one of the bull shoots, the cold, rusty metal grounding her.

He just turned around, busying himself with tightening the straps of his gear. He was silent.

“Tyler-”

He shrugged so hard it shut her up, reaching in his pocket and tossing his keys onto the dirt. “Take the truck. I’ll get my keys and my stuff tomorrow. I’ll call for a ride.”

Harlow crossed her arms, “No, I’m not taking your truck.”

“And I’m not having you staying here in the dark waiting for someone to pick you up. So unless you want me to drive you home, take the damn truck.”

Harlow picked the keys up from the dirt. She cried on the way home then in her mom’s lap. After nearly an hour of listening to her daughter cry, Shiloh James brought her daughter to the family laptop and had her sign into her University of Oklahoma admissions portal and deny her spot. Shiloh looked at her diploma from UC Davis hanging on the wall, “Sometimes a fresh start is what you need most.”

Now here she was, back in Clearwater for the first time in years. The few times she visited before were quick, a few days at most before she jetted back across the country; she never came during storm season, too afraid to cross paths with him or hear his name.

This time, Harlow had taken a month off work to spend time with her mother. All it took was one call from her mom's nurse Kelly for Harlow to book her plane ride home.

Shiloh scolded Harlow when she learned she took a month of unpaid leave. “Honey, you’re being dramatic. Your coworkers need you more than I do here! Honest. I haven’t felt better.”

Harlow playfully rolled her eyes at her mother and cuddled against her on the couch, pretending once again that she was here for different reasons. “Nah, I think they’ll be just fine.”

She was learning she was really good at pretending. But, maybe she had been all her life.

Harlow dropped her mom off at her best friend’s house as was customary per Kelly. Shiloh had long since stopped treatment and no longer cared about keeping distance from her loved ones. So Thursdays became nights for her to spend with Ruth to reminisce on their years together. Harlow planned to spend the night getting drunk and pretending her life wasn’t unraveling, like she wasn’t about to spend the weekend deciding between cedar and mahogany and pine.

Instead, she got a call from a college of hers in New York, Kate.

“Hello?” She answered, not sure what could prompt a call like this at 5pm. The two were work friends, the one the other would drift to during conventions - nothing more. Neither liked talking about anything personal. She could count on one hand the amount of real conversations she’d had with the girl. But perhaps weather could get her mind off the storm brewing in her life.

“Hi, this is Dr. James?” Kate sounded unsure, as though her number may have changed.

After receiving confirmation, Kate started into a spiel about how she was in need of a second opinion on the cells that were forming over the next few days in Oklahoma.

“Wait,” Harlow cut her off, “Are you . . . in Oklahoma?”

Kate swallowed, “Yes, as a favor to a friend. He’s testing out new equipment.”

“I mean - I’m in Oklahoma as well. I can meet with you, if that’s easier. That way I can see the models you’re describing.” Harlow wasn’t sure why she was so ecstatic to help. Maybe she just wanted a distraction, a taste of what Tyler did every day, what prompted him to leave Clearwater just a year after she did.

After half an hour of preparing a bag with her laptop and other essentials for the night she was going to spend at the motel, she was headed towards a town a few dozen miles north. The ride was the same as every ride through the Great Plains: filled with wheat, windmills, and cows. When she finally arrived at the address she was given, Harlow sighed and looked at the backseat, wishing she brought extra blankets. The parking lot was full: there was no chance of her getting a room that night. Nevertheless, she unbuckled, pulling her bag from the passenger side floorboard. She didn’t need to search for the StormParr trucks. They were stark white with the brutalist style logo slapped on every inch of the vehicles. She scanned the group for a second, looking for Kate - or any woman in general.

Kate saw her first, gently waving her over to introduce her to the group. After a while of comparing models and data (most of which was written off by the StormParr team and deemed as rudimentary), Kate got the hint that Harlow was about to snap. In an attempt to mediate, she cut off the tall, broad man while he was in the middle of talking about his data collection, “I’m sorry, but I really do have to run to the restroom. Dr. James, would you mind accompanying me?”

Harlow gave her a thankful look. The two set off to Kate’s room on the second floor. “I’m sorry about all of that. I thought what you said was very helpful. The prediction of rain habits in the area can definitely contribute to the-”

She cut Kate off with a raised hand and a laugh as they ascended. “It’s fine, really. I have a PhD in Climatology. I’m used to being talked over by men. It’s not like they’re paying me, so I don’t really care.”

They were about to start up the second set of stairs when a man called up at Kate, “Well if it isn’t Big City! That was a good call today!”

Harlow would’ve thought they were talking to her if she hadn’t known Kate was surrounded by these same groups of storm chasers for the past couple of days.

Kate rolled her eyes and whispered to her, “Tornado Wrangler crew.”

Harlow felt her eyes blow wide and her blood run cold. She could hear the rushing in her ears and her heart pumping in her chest. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Kate introducing her, “This is Dr. Harlow James.”

She got the nerve to turn to see the group of people. They looked exactly how they did on YouTube - cool, fresh, and close knit. Harlow felt like she was looking into a portal to what her life could’ve been. Harlow swallowed hard, the world spinning around her aside from Tyler. His eyes were locked on hers, his face giving none of his thoughts away. Harlow wasn’t as confident in her own facial features. Of all the things to come out of their mouths, she wasn’t expecting one of his crewmates to know about her.

“Of course we know her!” Boone laughed, “We use her weather mapping patterns to plan our-”

Tyler’s boot connected with his side, making him yelp in pain.

She felt her stomach jolt upwards. Harlow gripped Kate’s arm, whispering one word: “Bathroom.”

The blonde took her up the rest of the stairs. The second the door was unlocked, Harlow made a B-line for the bathroom, falling to her knees and emptying her dinner into the toilet. Kate stood awkwardly at the doorway to her hotel room, acting like she couldn’t hear her colleague vomiting through the door. She walked to Harlow’s duffel bag and rummaged through it until she found her mouthwash.

She mulled over if she should check on her or leave her be and throw the mouthwash bottle into the bathroom like it was a grenade. She was given a few extra moments to decide when a knock interrupted her thoughts. Kate opened the door, expecting Javier coming up to apologize for his crew’s actions towards Harlow but instead was met with Tyler Owens.

She couldn’t hide her surprise, “Oh, um, hello.”

He looked down at her hand and saw the travel sized bottle of Listerine. He tried to peer around her, but Kate pulled the door. He realized how it must’ve looked, “I came to check on her. Is she okay? She looked like she was about to faint.”

It was clear there was a history between the two, but Kate couldn’t tell what exactly it was. She wasn’t sure if she cared either. But she wasn’t about to leave this girl who she brought over. Kate tried to lie, to say that she was fine and just using the restroom, but a particularly violent gag sounded out.

He looked like it took all of his willpower to not push Kate out the way and run to the bathroom. “I just need to make sure she’s okay, alright?”

Kate went to deny him again, but Javier came up the stairs at that moment, talking without looking until he got right to her door, “Hey, Kate, I want to apologize about the way they treated Dr. James. It was entirely unprofession- oh . . .”

Javier sized up Tyler, whose jaw was locked. He turned to Kate instead. “Where’s Dr. James? I want to apologize personally.”

“Bathroom.”

He nodded in understanding when he heard another gag and Kate slightly raised the bottle in her hand.

“Please,” Tyler pleaded. “Let me check on her. She will dry heave until she passes out. She’s done it since we were kids.”

Kate wanted to say no, but the sounds were not letting up; if anything, they were getting worse. And she was not good with comforting someone or with bodily fluids. She glanced between the two, eventually stepping outside and handing Tyler the bottle. “Leave the door open.”

“Of course,” he assured her before bolting to the door. He knocked softly and was answered by a dry heave. He swallowed thickly, his voice soft, “Harlow?”

She made no noise of acknowledgement. He knocked again to nothing. He tried the handle, and it was miraculously unlocked. Once the door swung open, he was met with Harlow on her knees, arms wrapped around the toilet, dry heaving so hard her back arched up and down. He got on one knee next to her, gently running a hand down her back as he said her name. Her body shook with another heave. He pulled the hand towel off the bar on the wall and ran it under the faucet before wringing it out and placing it across her burning neck. That seemed to snap her out of the cyclical vomit-dry heave moment she was having. Her breathing started to deepen and even out as she reached up to flush the toilet twice. The redness in her face started to recede. She braced herself to stand, but didn’t have the strength to do so yet and almost stumbled head first into the counter.

Tyler was quick, “Whoa, whoa, darl- Harlow.” His hands reached out to steady her against the counter. She took deep breaths as she regained her bearings, running her hands under the cool water. She washed her mouth out, taking a swig of the mouthwash he offered. She splashed her face with water. She rubbed away the residual tears that formed during her vomit spell. Her mascara was still smudged underneath her eyes.

“Can you uh, grab my toothbrush and a shirt?” He didn’t need any explanation as to why she couldn’t get it herself. He brought them to her after practically emptying her duffel bag contents onto the bed. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back as she kept her eyes on the running water. She took another swig of mouthwash and swallowed it for good measure. He closed his eyes and turned away as she changed her shirt.

“You good?” He asked. She wanted to throw up again at how soft his voice was.

She nodded. She glanced up and met his eyes for a brief second before wiping her nose with a strangled laugh, her voice raspy, “Great first impression.”

She wiped up the water droplets on the counter with the towel he gave her earlier, doing anything to not look at him or acknowledge how close he was after a decade of nothing.

“Harlow.” His voice was still soft, but firm. “What did those guys say to you?”

She scoffed and wiped her wet hands on her shirt before walking out the bathroom. “Nothing I can’t ignore. I’m used to it.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, putting her things back in her bag that were strewn across the bed, “The usual. No one taking my models seriously because I was the only female graduate in my PhD program and because I’m the only person using them.”

“I use them.”

She pulled the zipper, staring so hard at her bag Tyler thought it might burst into flames, “So I’ve heard.”

There was a beat of silence. “Why’re you working with guys like that?”

That made her look up, eyebrows knitted. “I’m not. I have no clue who they are. I came here as a favor for Kate. We’re professional acquaintances. It was a coincidence we were both here.”

She said too much with that because he immediately asked, “Why are you back in Oklahoma?”

She kept her response short and guarded, “Seeing mom.”

Silence stretched on for an awkward amount of time. Harlow went back to looking at her bag. Tyler’s eyes never left hers.

“Let me take you get food. You just flushed yours down the toilet.”

“No!” Harlow almost jumped back as she heard those words. “No, no, I’m fine.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “When’s the last time you ate?”

“I ate on the way here.”

“And that’s gone. Before that?”

Harlow tried to do the math in her head. She skipped lunch because she was so worried about getting her mother bathed for her night with Ruth. She picked at an egg this morning but couldn’t stomach it, too aware of the texture of it. She wasn’t about to tell him she hadn’t digested a meal since the night before, so she opted for “A while.”

“I’m taking you get food. Come on.”

There was little reason for Harlow to argue - if she said she was going to bed he’d insist on walking her to her room and then she’d have to admit she didn’t have one, or that she was going to get food herself and he’d insist it was pointless to go alone if he was offering to drive.

That’s how the two ended up at a 24/7 diner, cramped into the only booth available next to the front window where everyone walking past could stare at them. It felt very similar to how Harlow felt when the two were a couple in Clearwater: watched, judged, and laughed at.

The two did not talk. Harlow became more comfortable with looking up, so instead of staring at the plate the entire meal, she was able to get as far up as his nose. His eyes were off limits in her mind. If she looked at them this close up, she was sure she’d feel everything she felt that night in the arena come rushing back.

She wasn’t sure how the two ended up in a pasture across from the diner, but she had made the mistake of looking at his eyes when his hand covered hers when the bill came. And she did feel all of those emotions come rushing back. It felt like their argument picked up right where it left off. The tall grass tickled her legs that were now accustomed to fancy lotions.

“I LEFT BECAUSE IT WASN’T FAIR! IT STILL ISN’T!” She shouted at him, hoping no one across the street could hear.

“What are you talking about?” Tyler scoffed.

“I left because the only thing I could ever be in Clearwater was ‘Tyler Owen’s girlfriend.’”

��Would that really have been so bad? A picket fence? A few babies?”

“No! It wouldn’t have! But you got to be Tyler Owens. Hot-shot bullrider extraordinaire. Loved by everyone. I was nothing more than the town smokeshow, and that’s all I would ever be.”

“You chose to go to college!”

“And look where you ended up! Mr. Summa Cum Laude! Why was it okay for you to go and not me?”

Tyler couldn’t hide the shock on his face. “You . . . you kept up with me?”

Harlow nodded. “Yup. Watched the livestream of you graduating. Even though you started a year after me, we still ended up graduating the same year.”

“But why keep up? You left. You went to New York.”

“I was going to UO at first. Wanted to stay close to you. They were gonna pay for everything, can you believe that?” She let out a humorless laugh. “Then we broke up. And my mom told me to go to New York. Get a fresh start. Turns out I fucked up that fresh start, too.”

He knit his brows. “What do you mean?”

Harlow fell onto the tailgate, her feet dangling. She tried to speak but only a sob came out. She hung her head and squeezed her eyes shut, a tear running down her nose and falling onto the dirt. Tyler walked over slowly and apprehensively took a seat next to her. She didn’t move to bite his head off or push him off. After a few seconds, she was able to compose herself to say the words she’d been refusing to say. The ones she refused to repeat to Nurse Kelly. The ones she knew her mom didn’t like. “She’s dying, Tyler. That’s why I came home - to plan her funeral. The doctors gave her until the end of the month. I-I left and never came back, and now I’m never gonna see her again.”

“Oh, baby,” his heart clenched. Of all the people in the world that deserved something like that, Shiloh was the last one. She raised Harlow alone after her father skipped town when she was two. She baked homemade cakes for him on his birthday and included him in Christmas and donated every penny she could to those in Clearwater who needed it. He wrapped his arms around her, and she broke. She held onto his button down and let out the sobs she’d been pretending to not be holding back, the ones she muffled in her pillow at night so she didn’t wake her mom.

She would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for the breeze she felt. It was warm. Like the ones before it, but different. The heat was weighing the breeze down, not being carried by it. She slowly pulled away from Tyler. He tried to say something, but she held her hand out to quiet him. She slowly dismounted from the tailgate, landing on the ground with a thud. Tyler made significantly less noise when he stepped off. Harlow pulled her hair tie out, slipping the band onto her wrist before leaning down and snapping a few blades of grass from the ground.

“Harlow, what are you-” He shut up when she let go, the blades flying away. He understood what spooked her. He suddenly felt the heaviness in the air, the air blowing her hair in the same direction as the grass. Heat lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating a monster cloud. Tyler grabbed her upper arm, “Get in the truck. Now.”

She nodded, racing to the passenger side just as the wind began to pick up. Heading back to the motel was too risky and too far. The best bet was to find shelter in town. Tyler started down the main stretch of road, Harlow screaming out the window for people to find shelter; if it was just her in her rental, she knew that no one would take her seriously. She had no fame and was no household name, but the red truck she was in gave her all the credibility she needed. Pedestrians heeded her warning and turned, fleeing to the nearest buildings. Power began to flicker across the city, darkness rolling in waves as transformers blew. The tornado siren started its song. Tyler had to intervene by rolling the passenger side window up on his control panel once the hail started, Harlow getting pelted as she stuck her head out to yell warnings.

“The hail is enough extra warning for them, sweetheart. Look for a shelter we can go into.”

Her eyes scanned, but the lack of power made it hard to see anything, even with the flashes of lightning. But then she pointed to the right, “Look! A motel! They most likely have one!”

He pulled into the parking lot, not caring how shittily he parked. But to the two’s horror, there were still three people in the lobby and they were soon joined by a mother and daughter. The young woman was laughing at their nervous state.

“Chill, guys, 9 times out of 10 there’s not even a tornado.”

The other two men were arguing about a bad Yelp review. Tyler instructed her to find a shelter, stating he’d round up everyone in the lobby. Harlow never ran so fast in her life. She checked every room, but found no doors that led to a storm shelter. She felt her heart fall to her stomach as she returned to the lobby to tell them they’d have to try and stick it out there. But out the corner of her eyes she saw the empty pool. “Tyler! Over here!”

He guided them all to the door she was at. “We have to run for it.”

The mother, daughter, and shop owner nodded. The other two scoffed, refusing to admit that a tornado was making its way down main street. Tyler nodded to Harlow and she unlatched the door. It swung off its hinges and flew across the parking lot, then she patted the mother and daughter to go, then the clerk.

“This is your last chance! Come with us!”The two others shook their heads, finally starting to understand the severity, but too scared to venture out. Tyler could not wait any longer; he grabbed Harlow’s arm and pushed her out before going last. They caught up quickly, each helping the other three down the ladder.

Her voice was getting sucked away by the howling wind, “Get to the pipes! Hold on! Do not let go!”

She tried to help Tyler down, but he pulled his arm back. “Absolutely not! Harlow, get in and do not wait for me!”

There was no time to argue. She could hash this out with him when they made it out of this. He grabbed onto her torso and helped her descend. She immediately ducked down, making a run for the pipes. Tyler was right behind her, until he wasn’t: the clerk stood up to see the tornado behind them and got sucked to the middle of the pool. He held onto the ladder, but had to let go and duck when a vending machine flew towards him. Tyler fell to his belly, making his way around the machine, reaching his hand out for the man. But the man ignored Tyler’s warning. He got to his knees to reach Tyler’s hand faster. Harlow watched in horror as the man hit the side of the pool with a crunch before getting sucked away.

She was crying just as the mom and daughter were; the screws of the pipes shook with the strength of the tornado that was rapidly gaining on them. Tyler was slowly making his way back over to the group on his belly. She screamed his name, but it was covered by the sound of a train horn. She hooked her arm through the pipe and extended her body as far out as she could, trying to reach him.

He wanted to shout at her, to tell her to get back against the pipes, that he wasn’t letting her mom bury her, that he wasn’t going to bury her. But if she hadn’t done that, he’d be dead right now. Just as he made it back to her and wrapped her body in his, a truck flew into the pool and wedged itself above them. He could feel her heartbeat hammering; he tried to tighten his grip on her, his biceps protecting her head as he ducked his own. He whispered soothing, sweet nothings against her head.

The winds slowed, but her breathing was still hard. He broke first, trying to move to peek around the truck to ensure they were in the clear, but Harlow moved her hands to grip one of his arms. He squeezed one of her hands and placed it back on the pipe. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

She returned to her death grip on the pipe. He was back seconds later to pry her off and bring her above. The mother and daughter thanked them with tears in their eyes. Harlow knew she should be embarrassed at how she was clinging to Tyler the same way the girl was clinging to her mother. But he didn’t seem to mind. He let her cling to him as they waited for the rest of his crew to arrive for relief efforts. Once they did, he sat her in the passenger seat of his truck. He tried to help set up tables with food and water, but Lily shooed him away with two bottles of water.

She nodded in the direction of his truck where Harlow was on the phone, her body shaking from the adrenaline crash. “She needs you more than we do. Get her back safe. We have it from here.”

He glanced between Lily and Harlow. He wanted to ask if she was sure, but he knew Lily wouldn’t let him leave if they truly needed his help, so he thanked her and went to start up the truck just as she was hanging up the phone.

“She okay?” He didn’t have to ask who it was. There was only one person who Harlow went to for comfort.

She wiped at her cheek, “Yeah, yeah. Not even a drop of rain. She’s with Ruth.”

That made Tyler let out a belly laugh. “Are we sure they didn’t cause this?”

Harlow laughed wetly, “I would not bet money against it.”

When they arrived at the motel, Tyler was adamant on walking her to her room and getting her settled. It was nearing 1AM. Harlow looked at her lap and scratched at the nape of her neck. “So, uh, about that . . .”

He cocked an eyebrow, motioning with his hand for her to continue.

“I was gonna sleep in my rental. There’s no vacancy.”

He looked at her incredulously, “You’re joking, right?”

She stayed quiet.

“So you were just planning on getting here and sleeping in your truck?”

She shook her head, “No, I just wasn’t expecting every storm chaser in America to be at this motel. That or I was going to go home. Kate said there was still vacancy when we talked on the phone. She even verified that there were a handful of rooms left.”

“Well you’re not sleeping in your truck, absolutely not.” He turned his truck off, grabbing her duffle bag he threw into the backseat earlier.

She looked at him questioningly, holding her hand out for her bag, “Then I’m going home.”

“No. You are not driving half an hour in the dark right after you just waited out a tornado in a pool, especially not to be home alone. And you’re not sleeping in the backseat of an untinted rental in a parking lot, especially not one where I have confirmation that there are people here who do not respect you. You’re staying in my room.”

“I can’t!”

“Relax, I’ll sleep in the chair.”

Harlow felt her face flush. “That’s - that’s not what I meant. You paid for the room. You need to sleep in a bed without having to worry about your ex-girlfriend who dry heaves as an anxiety response.”

He rounded the truck by the time she finished talking. He reached over and unbuckled her, grabbing her hand to help her down. He shut the door behind her. “I didn’t care before, don’t care now. Come on, we need showers.”

“I’m sleeping on the chair then.”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied sarcastically.

He all but forced her to go first; while she washed all the dirt and mud off herself, he prepared a makeshift bed on the chair with bedding he found in the closet. It smelled of mildew, but there was no way he was giving her those blankets and keeping the ones on the bed for himself.

When she came out in a towel, he nearly tripped over the footstool he was adding padding to. He slammed his eyes shut and turned around. “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

He could hear the embarrassment in her voice, “I said your name like 4 times but you didn’t respond. I thought you were asleep. I have shorts on, I was just coming to get my other shirt from my bag.”

He felt silly talking to the wall with his eyes closed. “Don’t tell me you mean Throw Up shirt.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

He groaned in frustration, reaching blindly for the pile of clothes he set out for himself. He felt for his shirt and tossed it in her direction. The noise of it hitting the wall let him know he missed, but he heard her shuffling to pick it up.

“Thank you.”

Tyler was about to scold her again when he opened the bathroom door, steam wafting out into the room, but found her asleep in the chair. She was curled into herself, legs pulled to her chest and secured by the mildew blanket. He shook his head in disbelief and pulled at the blanket to try and wake her up. She groaned and pulled the blanket back against herself.

“Harlow. Wake up. Take the bed.”

She simply groaned in response, turning to tuck her head farther against the chair.

“Baby, I’m not playing this game. Take the bed.”

Her words were almost incoherent, but he managed to decipher them, “If I’m in th’ bed, then you will be too. M’not takin’ from you.”

“Suit yourself, then.” He said, placing one arm under her back and the other under her knees, lifting her and bringing her to the bed.

He let her get settled and couldn’t ignore her shivers. He reduced the fan speed on the AC before climbing into bed behind her, his back to the door. He kept distance between the two of them, but she was shaking so hard it nearly turned the mattress into a massage bed.

“C’mere.” He hooked his arm around her torso and pulled her into himself. He was still pulsing with warmth from the shower. “You wouldn’t be cold if you had used hot water for your shower.”

He wasn’t aware if she was conscious or if she was acting on instinct, but she curled up into him, fitting like the puzzle piece he’d been missing for a decade.

Two and a half weeks passed. And so did her mother. Kelly announced her.

Her first call was the coroner’s office. Her second was Tyler. It had been radio silence since that night in the motel. He walked her to her car and made her promise to text her when she got home safe; aside from that, Tyler was trying to mentally piece himself back together enough to go back to never seeing Harlow James again.

The phone hadn’t even finished its first ring before he picked up. She was sobbing and incoherent, but he knew. He promised her he’d be there as soon as he could; he beat the police. He held her as she sobbed for her mom on the lawn as they wheeled her out the house. She spent every moment since that night with her mom, even those nights at Ruth’s. She savored every moment with the woman who raised her, but it wasn’t enough. She had too many memories of New York, and not enough of her mother. Her visits were so infrequent that her mother's weight loss was stark instead of gradual. But she knew if she had the chance to do it all again, her mother would be the one telling her to do it, that in order to find herself, she had to start anew.

Tyler was one of the pallbearers. After he did his duty, he found his place right back next to her. He held her while she cried, while she laughed, and while she sat there blankly. Everyone in town talked about how good it was to see the two together again despite the circumstances. And Harlow found herself wondering if maybe her mother knew this was how it was going to end all along. That she could be happy in this town. That the storm he caused would only be tamed by him.

And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be pretending anymore.

#imagine #twisters #twisters 2024 #Tyler owens #Tyler owens imagine #glen powell #zach bryan #song fit #Tyler ownens fanfiction #Tyler owens fanfic #Tyler owens one shot #twisters movie

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luveline · 7 months ago

Note

missing eddie and roan rn🥲

can we get something were roan brings home flowers she picked during recess for reader🫶

Eddie and Roan —Eddie’s daughter brings you a bouquet when you’re sick. (step)mom!reader

Roan skips up the path to the house with a big smile. “Dad, come on!” she demands.

Eddie’s trying to carry three paper bags of groceries and close the trunk at the same time. He is not receptive to criticism at this present moment. “Shut up, babe.”

“You shut up!”

“You first.” He drops the keys by accident. “Ro, can you come and grab these for me? Thank you.”

She races to grab the keys and then back to the door. “Dad, COME ON!”

“You’re being super rude and irate right now but I forgive you,” Eddie says, yanking the door open to let her inside, “because I know you’re hangry.”

“Not hangry!” she denies, bursting into the hallway and kicking her shoes so hard against the shoe rack that the top layer of your work shoes topple onto the floor. “Mom!” she shouts, one word lined heavily with joy even now. She’s been calling you mom for months and it doesn’t get any less exciting for her, clearly. “Y/N! Y/N, I got you something! Where are you?”

“I’m in bed!” you call, sounding excited yourself, if a little confused. “What did you get me?”

Eddie wasn’t aware of any gifts. He puts the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and follows his charge up the stairs, curious and not wanting to put stuff away anyhow. Roan tumbles into the master bedroom still wearing her red vinyl coat, door slamming into the wall, you wincing in bed.

Eddie winces too. “Ro,” he says desperately, “come on, bub, she’s in bed rest, remember? So we’re being careful about loud noises. I told you twice today already.”

“Sorry! I just want to see you,” she says, straight to your side and arms up expecting to be helped.

You pull her into your lap. “I’m sick of resting anyways.”

Eddie intercepts Roan’s hug to lean down over you and give you a gentle kiss, of which you are extremely receptive. He gets butterflies thinking about you to this day, and having you raise your chin to receive him intensifies them by half, then whole as your lips do finally touch.

“Okay day?” he asks.

“Really quiet,” you say, tugging Roan up into your chest before she can get jealous.

“Head?” he asks.

“Fine. Barely a headache anymore.”

Eddie bites his lip. Not too long ago you were in a hospital bed practically catatonic. He cannot afford to be uncareful with you. You’re too much to him.

“Promise?” he asks.

You’re distracted from answering by small hands on your face. “Mommy, I was talking to you first.”

“Sorry, baby, yes you were.” You sink further down. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Roan could forgive you for almost anything. She wiggles where she’s sitting on your stomach, hands clumsy at the bottom of her coats zipper, her chest rising and falling after her sprint up the stairs. Eddie and Roan are still both cold enough to have it emanating from their coats, but you don’t care, you just want your after school cuddle.

Eddie peels out of his coat at the same time, takes his shoes off with some self-chastisement (mud upstairs is awful and rude of him and he’ll spend the evening trying to rub it out of the rug because you really like the rug and he likes you), and sits on the bed by your feet.

“Oh, what have you got?” you ask warmly.

Eddie bends his head to watch her pull flowers from her overall pocket, one small stem at a time. Daisies and buttercups with petals smaller than her fingernails. They keep coming, ten then twenty, maybe thirty flowers on your chest. The stems are broken, but they’re all more alive than anyone could have hoped for considering they’d been sandwiched in her pocket for hours.

“These are for me?” you ask.

“All for you. Except this one for dad,” she says, picking up one of the bigger daisies. “And maybe this one for me.” She grabs a buttercup for herself.

“Aw, thanks baby. These are gonna make me better, huh?”

She looks like him when she smiles. Cheesy, cute, she arranges the flowers in a bouquet in her hand and presents it to you grandly. “I picked them at school behind the wooden house. Do you like ‘em?”

“I love them,” you pronounce, just as grand but not half as loud.

“I love you.”

“You cheesball,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes.

“Ignore him.” You touch her cheek with a fondness that makes his jaw ache thinking about the love behind it. “I love you too.”

“And you’ll be better soon,” Roan says.

Eddie can answer that one. He holds your ankle through the sheets, and gives your calf a quick stroke. “She’s gonna be a hundred percent any day now, bug. Better be extra gentle with her to help her along.”

Roan rubs her bouquet of flowers softly under your chin. “I’m gentle,” she whispers.

You rake your fingers through her hair, a half centimetre a second, fingertips drawing down between her shoulders. Such a mom thing to do, Roan dissolves like sugar paper in the rain.

Eddie smiles. “Alright, I’m jealous.”

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nanenna · 5 days ago

Text

The Best Laid Plans

Sleepy King Master Post (for my contributions anyway)

---

“I’m driving,” Jazz announced, snatching the keys from her dad as they all walked to where the GAV was parked on the city hall’s lawn.

“Young lady,” Mom started to scold.

“I only have a limited amount of time to drive with supervision before I’m off to college and driving all by myself.” Jazz gave her parents the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster.

“And I am more than happy to be that supervision,” Vlad said as he reached for the front passenger seat.

Danny quickly jumped into the back seat, as far away from Vlad as he could get. Jazz adjusted the seat and mirrors while she waited for her parents to get in. Then she looked Danny in the eye through the rear view mirror, “The engine doesn’t start until every last person is buckled in.”

“C’mon, Jazz! Even if your grandma driving somehow got us into a car accident we both know I’d be fine.”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

Danny grumbled as he buckled himself in, Jazz kept her smirk to a minimum as she started the car. While she drove them to Vlad’s home she half listened to her parents explain the situation to him, the other half of her attention being spent watching the cars on the road around her swerve and nearly crash around her. She pulled up to a red light next to another car, the passenger staring up at her dumbfounded. Jazz smiled and waved.

“So you’re telling me Daniel is now the Ghost King,” Vlad asked as they pulled up to his mansion.

“That’s what it looks like,” Dad agreed boisterously. “Right now it seems like a meaningless title, but we’re worried about him getting randomly summoned by those darn occultists!”

“A bunch of fanatics with ludicrous ideas,” Mom said with a sniff. “I’d hate to think what they’d try to do to Danny if it ever happens again.”

There was a pause as they all got out of the GAV, then walked into Vlad’s mansion together.

“That doesn't explain why you're here. Shouldn't you be in school, young lady?”

“Apparently it's school policy to send siblings home in these kinds of situations.” And Jazz was so thankful for that!

“And Danielle?”

“She doesn’t go to our school, now does she?”

Vlad nodded along before turning his attention fully on Mom. “I’m guessing you have a plan?”

“Of course,” Mom replied without another thought. “Since we’re pretty sure the title is attached to the crown, we’re going to destroy it and hope it destroys the Ghost King title.”

Vlad stopped in his tracks, “You’ll what?”

Dad patted Vlad on the shoulder consolingly, “I know, I’m sure Danny would be a good king too, but he’s adamant he doesn’t want to. And the risk of a bunch of wacko cultists kidnapping him is just too big.”

“It’s not like you want me to be king anyway,” Danny added with a smirk.

“Well… Little Badger, you’re so young!” Vlad blurted out.

“And it’s weird, you’ve had the crown for over a year now, but I’ve never seen you use it.”

Vlad sighed deeply, “I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t do anything.”

Danny just nodded, “So if it doesn’t work anyway isn’t it better if no one can?”

Vlad side eyed Danny before shrugging, “You do have a point. I shall go retrieve the crown, one moment.” He turned and left the sitting room he’d led them to.

The Fentons all sat down on various pieces of furniture. Their parents shared a couch, sitting as close together as possible, while Jazz and Danny each sat in a chair of their own. Danny sighed and slouched in his seat.

“Danny, have you let Sam and Tucker know what's going on yet?” Jazz asked. It seemed the easiest way to distract him while they waited.

“Yeah, kinda. I told them I was home safe and would explain everything after school.”

Jazz nodded, that seemed the safest.

“They promised to bring me my homework,” Danny added with a groan. “It's so unfair! I got kidnapped, shouldn't I get- oh shit!” Danny practically threw himself out of his chair.

“Language,” Mom chided.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” Danny whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at seemingly empty space. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”

Danny waited, presumably a ghost they couldn't see was responding. Jazz had learned from the Youngblood incident, she quietly pulled out a collapsed boo-staff from her purse.

“You don't know who I am?”

…

“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”

…

“How about you tell me your name first?” After another pause he burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”

“Danny, is it Youngblood?”

“Huh?” Danny looked to Jazz, then back to the open space. He gestured, “You can't see him?”

Jazz and their parents shook their heads.

Vlad came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”

Everyone paused for the response.

“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” Danny added, he turned back to the empty space, “Are you even a ghost?”

A window burst, shattering into many flying shards under Batman’s combat boots. Jazz instinctively covered her face and shrieked. By the time she looked up the blond man in a trenchcoat from earlier was climbing through the shattered window while muttering to himself.

“Was that really necessary?!” Vlad yelled angrily.

The blond man pointed at Danny and said something, dazzling light flew from his finger to hit Danny, leaving him standing there braced for impact but looking fine.

Mom squawked, “What'd you do?!”

“Danno! Are you okay?” Dad rushed over to check Danny over.

“I think I'm okay?” Danny said shakily as he straightened up from his protective curl to look himself over.

There was a familiar burning crown floating over his head.

“Huh,” the blond man said, “that was supposed to reveal your true form.”

“Congrats, this is my true form,” Danny said with an eye roll.

“Danny, above your head,” Jazz said carefully. Unfortunately that got everyone's attention, far more than Wonder Woman slipping into the room.

Danny looked up, “What? Where?”

“No Danny, it's the crown,” Mom supplied, coming over to stand next to him while glaring at the heroes and their pet wizard. (That was unkind, Jazz shouldn't think such things.)

Dany reached up and felt around until he found the crown, then pulled it down to look at. “Okay, crown retrieved.”

“We may have a problem,” Vlad said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.

“What.” Danny looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in Vlad's. “Why are there two?” Danny turned to the pet wizard, “What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything, that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”

“Well clearly you did something wrong,” Mom said while glaring at the pet wizard.

Jazz extended the boo-staff and came to stand slightly in front of Danny, these guys may have powers but Jazz had helped fight bigger, badder beings.

Vlad started to step backwards, back towards the hallway.

“Oh no you don’t!” Danny let go of his crown as he ran over to grab the crown Vlad was still holding, it quickly turned into a tug of war.

“Vladdie? What are you doing?” Dad asked in confusion.

“You don’t need two crowns, and since this one was already in my possession…”

“Absolutely not, you fruitloop!”

“Danny!” Mom and Dad both chided.

The Justice Leaguers had all gathered together and were just watching, seeming unsure what to do after all their silly dramatics.

Vlad glowered down at Danny’s hands on the crown, then his eyes widened. He switched to trying to grab Danny’s hand.

Danny looked down, his own eyes widened as he curled his hand into a fist. “Is that the Ring of Rage?! What the hell, that should still be on Pariah’s finger!” Danny looked at the pet wizard in horror, “What. Did. You. Do?!”

“Danny, Vlad, stop it both of you!” Mom moved over to the two and tried to separate them, Dad joined her and was doing his best to cajole them both into backing down. For her part Jazz kept her eyes on the intruders while the rest of her family and Vlad squabbled.

“Alright, that’s enough,” the pet wizard said grumpily before raising his voice. “Shut up!”

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc comics #justice league #next bit is going to be this all over again from someone else's pov #so it will make sense soon...#nenna writes #fanfic #fanfiction

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autisticrosewilson · 1 month ago

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It's not that I hate fanon or that I think fanon is inherently less intelligent or morally wrong, but a LOT of fanon is based in racism, misogyny, and classism that I feel like a lot of you accept without question.

WHY is Duke (Daredevil, son of a god, has never once allowed himself to be defined by anyone's actions but his own) relegated to a background role, only characterized by reacting to the whims of other bats?

Why is Babs - Birds of Prey leader and backbone of the hero society, tells Bruce to fuck off and die 4 times a day and is constantly ruining her relationships by being biased and unhinged - Gotham bound, the mature responsible mom of the group who never argues with Bruce and never gets in trouble?

Why is Dick, both a tactical genius and master manipulator, a himbo only appreciated for his sex appeal? Especially when he is both Romani (group of people demonized and condemned as hypersexual by their nature alone) and an SA victim.

WHY is Damian "feral" and "uncivilized" despite being raised as a literal prince? Half of you treat him like a sociopath with no hope of redemption for an unfunny three second joke and the other half of you go full throttle into Bruce's white savior bullshit so that Damian can be "redeemed". Y'know when you're not villainizing Talia and acting like Dick is his other parent, actually.

WHY is Stephanie - extremely intelligent detective who can't stand Bruce and has a living mother she loves - lumped in as another member of the Batfam, a blonde ditz who only cares about prank wars and emotionally supporting Tim?

WHY is Cass - intelligent, a grown adult, suicidal perfectionist - emotionally intelligent, primarily existing to support the characters around her, immediately accepting of everyone she meets regardless of her own morals?

Why is Bruce the golden standard? Enough so that though everyone in the fandom could agree that he's an emotionally unstable wreck, being considered "the most like him" is seen as a compliment and not the HIGHEST insult? Everyone would agree if I said that Bruce purposely self sabotages his relationship half the time and the other half he simply does things without caring about the emotional impact it will have on people because he has to be the smartest in the room, but if I said that makes him a shit partner and emotionally abusive parent the fandom would bend over backwards to argue with me.

Why is Tim "the best Robin" when Dick Grayson invented the mantle, it is impossible for someone to embody the spirit of Robin better than him because he made it and he created what being Robin means. Maybe Tim is the best in Bruce's eyes, but what Robin means and who has the right to give it over was a significant thing they argued about. Tim the high school drop out, and yet also somehow the smartest? Tim "the most like Bruce" except no he's not, that's Cass. Poor neglected, abused, victimized little Timmy (the rich boy at the elite boarding school with loving albeit busy parents and almost every instance of him being victimized by another character has either been racist bullshit - The Al Ghuls and Rose Wilson- or a complete 180 for the character that made no sense when examined through the lens of prior characterization - Jason for instance.)

Almost every fanon trope that gets passed around like gospel seems to deliberately push POC characters and women into the background and strip them of interesting complex traits and stories, usually for the purpose of fitting them all into bite sized incorrect quote character types and uncomplicated narrative roles that are not only completely divergent from canon, but primarily exist to prop up the two rich white boys.

Also the insistence that Bruce, a 20 year old at the time, should actually be excused for how much he mentally and emotionally fucked Dick up because really they're more like siblings! While deciding that Dick at the same age was actually the perfect candidate to be Damian's new parent/guardian...have you lost the fucking plot you don't even make sense to yourselves.

Okay I lied at the beginning, I do hate fanon. You guys are so uncritical about the media you consume it is BEYOND just letting people enjoy things and have fun. I guess it's one thing if you KNOW this stuff isn't canon and UNDERSTAND why these tropes are problematic and you engage with it as such, it's fine read and write what you want, but just spreading the same nonsense around and parading it around as "better than canon" (version of the character so bland and boring you've somehow made the old white men at DC look like geniuses in the art of representation) is just infuriating.

#I didn't talk about Jason because every other post I make is about how bad fanon has fucked him up #and I would have mentioned Helena but honestly her being pushed out of the family is more a matter of people not reading comics #I wouldn't consider Jason her “replacement” accept in the moral philosophy department #wherein Helena feels an inherent guilt that Jason simply doesn't #and while Helena is firmly an anti hero Jason is willing to kill heroes if it means accomplishing his goals #I do think there's something to be said about his fanon relationship to Bruce and Cass #that directly replaces Helena's actual canon relationships though #If any of you bring up the Catholic Jason headcanon I'll kill you #I made posts about that already she did not trademark Catholicism #dc #canon vs fanon #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #Barbara Gordon #duke thomas #tim drake #It IS really weird how you guys keep giving Bette Kanes actual canon identity to random people #like damn you couldn't even do a cursory Google search before you gave Wally or Tim or w/e her mantle

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writingroom21 · 24 days ago

Text

Our Secret

Pairing: Stepdad!Rafe x stepdaughter!Reader

Summary: This is a part 2 of this story

Warinings:18+, smut, nipple play, fingering, p in v, pregnancy sex, unprotected sex, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 1.9K

“Shouldn’t be in here. The fumes aren’t good for the baby.”

You stand in the middle of the nursery looking at the powder blue walls Rafe just got done painting. The furniture is piled on one side that's already dry keeping it from the wet paint. “I just wanted to see how it was looking.” Looking around you envision how you are going to decorate the walls. You want the theme to be Alice in Wonderland so one of your friends is going to paint a mural on the wall. Rafe said he was going to do it but you don’t think he has the artistic skills for that.

He’s been really big on giving you anything and everything that you want. You’re seven months pregnant and about to reach your eighth month. It’s been a wild couple of months since you found out. The two of you were so happy living in a bubble until you had to tell your mom. She was pissed off with you, calling you every name under the sun. “Do you really not know the dad? How stupid can you be?” You know it was due to her wanting a better life than she had. Your dad had left as soon as you came into the picture and here you are repeating history.

Well at least in her eyes you are.

Rafe was the voice of reason, convincing your mom that they needed to help you out. Then a week after that conversation he was clearing out the room next to yours for the nursery. Your mom found it sweet how much Rafe wanted to help you. Even going as far as joking that he should just be dad when the baby comes. You had all laughed brushing it under the rug but you and Rafe shared a look. It was so brief that your mom didn’t think anything of it but you two knew you had to be careful.

Which wasn’t really hard since she was still traveling for work. She was gone weeks on end allowing you two to be alone. You’ve even moved into the master bedroom with him and she never noticed. The only time you were in your room was when she was here. You know things have not been going smoothly with them. Sometimes you can hear them arguing when they think you aren’t around.

“Why are you always defending her? She should find her own place.” You sat on the daybed in the backyard listening to them through the open windows. Your mom had just gotten back from another work trip to find the house littered with baby things. Rafe had just taken you shopping so everything was a mess. “She’s pregnant, I'm not kicking her out. You’re barely here anyway so why should it matter.”

Their voices carry outside filling your ears. You feel bad for causing so many problems, maybe you and Rafe should stop. It wouldn’t be that bad to just end it here. The lie tasted foul. You know if this ever ended it would break you but you could live with it. “I’m working Rafe, what do you want me to do? Just because you would rather have fun than work doesn’t mean I want to.” There was her go to line. She’s older than Rafe by ten years and always throws it back in his face. Always reminding him that she has more experience in life.

“No, I want a wife that’s here and to have a family. Not a wife that thinks I’m too stupid to notice her sleeping around. Next time you have a work trip make sure your company is aware of it.” There was complete silence after his words rang in the air. You sat up from the chair looking at the bedroom window. You can see them standing there just as your mom slapped him across the face. “Maybe I was tired of having a husband who couldn’t meet my needs.” Rafe just laughed. “Hard to meet them when half of the world already had a chance.”

You haven’t seen her since. She came down telling you she had to go back for work and never came back. Rafe refused to talk about it stating there wasn’t anything to worry about. But you can’t help but to feel like this is all your fault. “What are you thinking about?” Rafe’s arms wrap around your waist, his hands spreading across your bump. He’s been so affectionate, making you feel so loved. “Do you ever feel bad? Like about what we are doing to my mom.” Slowly he turns to face him. “No. Do you?”

You go to speak but footsteps in the hallway catch both your attention. “Rafe?” Your moms voice echos. The two of you detach yourselves and stare at the door when she emerges. “Wow this looks nice.” She looks at the paint stains on his shirt. Her eyes pinch together, looking between the two of you. “You painted the room? Should have just hired someone.” Rafe clears his throat, shrugging as he looks around. “Thought it would be nice. Plus I don't need this one going crazy on the workers.” You slap his arm, offended at his accusation. “I’m not that bad.”

Your mom just watches the two of you interact, nodding her head along. Sucking her teeth she grabs your attention again. “Well I’m glad to see the two of you getting along. I’m going to go unpack.” Rafe’s head snaps over to her, his feet following her retreating body. “What do you mean?” She grabs the bag she left by the master bedroom and enters. You watch from the hallway as Rafe follows. “Well I decided I should be here since the due date is getting closer. She’s going to need me.” Not wanting to hear more, you just lock yourself in your room for the rest of the night.

The routine follows for the next few weeks. Your mom seems to never leave the house anymore. Usually Rafe goes to your appointments with you but when he mentioned it last night your mom jumped at the opportunity. “Don’t stress yourself with something that doesn’t concern you. I’ll bring her, I want to see my grandbaby.” You tried to go by yourself but she wouldn’t let you. The car ride and waiting room were awkward since she wouldn’t speak to you. You mentioned things about the baby and your life but she didn’t seem interested.

“No dad today? We’ll make him an extra copy to have.” Your obgyn says as she walks in the room. You froze in your spot, looking at your mom who didn’t react at all. “Oh no, that's my husband. He’s been helping her out while I was gone.” The doctor looks between the two of you. Her eyes are suspicious and you can tell the moment that it clicked. “Gee my sincere apology. I just assumed.” The rest of the appointment was okay. The baby was looking good and you were excited to hear their little heartbeat.

When you had gotten home she went straight to the kitchen grabbing some wine before disappearing to her room. You waited a few moments before sneaking your way to Rafe’s office. “Hi baby.” He looked up, leaning back in his chair as he smiled at you. Rounding the desk you sit on the edge in front of him. “Hi sweetie. How’s our little princess doing?” His fingers brush against your bump, catching the blunt end of a kick. “Think she’s going to be a soccer star with that leg of hers.” You giggle, pulling out a copy of the ultrasound. Rafe takes it and places it next to the frame with your first one. He’s been collecting each one and displaying them on his desk.

“Everything is good. Just need to get through these last few weeks and she’ll be here.” Dragging his chair close, Rafe traps himself between your thighs. His fingers make their way down to the hem of your dress, finding their way under the fabric. “That’s good. Can’t wait to hold our baby girl.” He places a kiss on your bump at the same time his fingers find the soaked material of your panties. “And how’s my baby doing, hm? Been missing her.”

Since your moms been back the two of you haven’t been with each other. Going to fucking each other’s brains out to not getting to touch each other has been torture. “I’ve missed you too.” When they say pregnancy makes you super horny they aren’t wrong. You were jumping his bones any chance you got. Not being able to get that fix has you winded up to the point his fingers slide right in. Rafe stares intently at your face, looking at how pleasure consumes you as his fingers play you like a violin.

Pulling the top of your dress he frees your breast, tugging at your nipples harshly. Since being pregnant your breasts have been extra sensitive. You could probably get off just from him playing with them. Standing he takes one of them in his mouth, sucking at the pebbled nipple. He takes his time, taking his finger out to play with your clit just to slide them back in. Moving to the other nipple he bites down on it. A moan slips from your lips, maybe a little too loud but you don’t care. “Hear how wet you are? Bet you’re soaking my desk right now.”

Straining your ears you can hear the squelch your pussy makes every time he pushes his fingers back in. You clench around them, a hand finding his shoulder to stable yourself. “You gonna drench me baby? I know you want to.” He attaches to your nipple again, his free hand finding the other to pinch. He keeps the actions going. Sucking and pinching on your nipples as he fucks you with his fingers. The pressure in your lower stomach gets more intense and you feel like you are going to explode. All of a sudden you are gushing everywhere, moans filling the room as you come down from the feeling.

“Fuck. How come you’ve never done that before? Would have had you do that for me all the time if I knew.” He kisses your lips and rubs your legs to soothe you. “Mmm never knew either.” He helps you down and tells you to go take a shower. Looking at him and his desk you can see how much you actually squirted. His papers were all wet and his shirt was soaked. You apologized but he didn’t want to hear it since he thought it was hot. Leaving the room you don’t notice how the previously closed door was left open. “Maybe I was tired of having a wife who I didn’t love.” He threw her words back at her.

Huffing your mom grabs her things, grabbing her phone to text someone. “You know what? The two of you can go together, I don’t need this.” Getting something from her bag she walks to the island and throws a stack of papers on it. “Those better be signed by the end of the week.” She walks out the house, leaving the divorce papers staring back at you. Rafe picks them up with a smile. “Looks like I’ll be a free man. It’s just us now sweetie.”

There’s a sound of water hitting something. Rafe looks over his shoulder at you noticing the far away look you have. “Hey it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out together.” He goes to comfort you but slips. Looking down he sees that the floor is wet. “What the fuck?”

“I think my water just broke.”

✧✧✧✧✧

“Come on sweetie, give me one more. Just one and we can be done.” Rafe breathe’s out as he thrusts into you. A whine leaves your lips as you claw at his shoulders. Your mom had gone on a “girls trip" with her friends, leaving you two alone. Rafe didn’t waste a moment dragging you into every room in the house. Which is why you are leaning over the kitchen counter with him behind you.

“I can’t.” You moan out. One of his hands gathers your hair, pulling your head up slightly. “Told you if you wore that dress you’d regret it. Don’t whine now because you got exactly what you asked for.” He’s made you cum four times by now. The two of you have been at it for a while at this point and he can’t seem to stop. First he needed you squirting all over him. Then he needed to taste you as you cum. It was just a never ending cycle leading you back to him pounding the life out of you. Not to mention he’s excusing it as helping you induce labor since your already past your due date.

Your skin lights on fire as his fingers dance along it. Everything is just overwhelming and you’re so close. “Come on mama.” He twists a nipple causing the flood gates to open. You slump over the counter as you moan. Soon the feeling of a rushing warmth fills you letting you know that Rafe just cummed. Slowly he pulls out, lifting your dress and spreading your ass cheeks to watch his cum drip out of you. “Fuck sweet heart. Look great with my cum seeping out of you.”

“What the fuck.” The sound of a voice and things hitting the floor causes the two of you to look up. Your mom stands in the doorway staring at the scene in front of her. “Mom I ca-” “Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear it.” Rafe covers you up, tucking himself back into his pants. “Don’t ever talk to her like that again. Be mad at me all you want but you won’t speak to her like that in my house.” There’s a shocked look on her face, not expecting Rafe to speak back to her. “Seriously, could have been anyone else. Why my kid?”

He laughs at her audacity. “You lost all room to talk when you were sneaking off at our wedding reception to screw your boss. What was it that you said ‘can’t help who you fall for’.” He places a hand on your shoulder bringing you to his side.

Taglist: @rafedaddy01 @theeternaloptimistt @laniirackssss

let me know if you want to be added

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #obx #outer banks smut #stepdad!rafe

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months ago

Text

Target Acquired - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Female! Reader

Length: 1.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Discussions of Menstruation/Periods and Everything That Goes with It; Rooster (Slightly) Panicking; Amelia Being Sassy; Fluff; Flirting; Use of "You" but No Y/N; Female Reader but No Physical Description

Summary: Amelia gets her first period while Rooster is left in charge of her. He is forced to ask for help from the first woman he sees, which just so happens to be you.

Master List

When Rooster agreed to watch Amelia for Penny for a weekend so that she and Maverick could have a weekend to themselves, he thought that it was going to be simple. Amelia was fifteen. She couldn’t drive herself anywhere, but she could advocate for herself. If he left her alone for half a day, she would survive.

But, of course, Amelia had to get her period for the first time. Ever. And Penny wasn’t answering her phone. And Phoenix wasn’t either.

So, here he was, standing in the middle of Target, starting to pull his own hair out, as he tried to figure out what size of pads or tampons he should buy Amelia. He had no idea. Not a clue. His mom had given him an overview of what to expect with women on their periods, but his mind was completely blank as he edged towards a state of uncontrolled panic.

“Just get the normal ones!” Amelia yelled at Rooster over the phone, holed up in her bathroom back at the house. “I still can’t find my mom’s stuff!”

“Just tell me what size to buy!”

“The normal ones!”

“What color are the normal ones!?”

“I don’t know! Can’t you read!?” Amelia yelled back at him. Rooster sighed, forcing himself to take a breath. “Just ask someone!”

“No, I’ll figure it out.”

“I’m literally bleeding out in my bathroom right now, Rooster! Ask someone for help!”

Rooster held the phone away from his ear, which he swore was ringing from Amelia’s yelling. Looking around, Rooster paused when he saw you step into the aisle. You offered him a kind half-smile before turning to the products. Quickly grabbing a set of tampons and pads, you were about to carry on with your shopping when Rooster seized his chance.

“Excuse me, Miss?” he asked awkwardly, causing you to grow a bit defensive. After all, women assumed that the one aisle where they wouldn’t be accosted by men would be in front of the tampons. “Um . . . I need some help picking out some pads and tampons.”

“Okay,” you replied cautiously, clearly a bit confused.

“My . . . step-sister just got her period for the first time and her mom isn’t picking up and I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to buy. And I really need some help so that she doesn’t kill me when I come back with the wrong stuff.”

Your face softened at his explanation and you even chuckled a bit to yourself. Pointing at his phone, you asked, “Is she on the phone right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, her name’s Amelia.”

You smiled and brought his phone up to your ear. Introducing yourself to Amelia and offering Rooster a reassuring look, you looked at the period products in front of you.

“So, I think it’s probably best for you to start with pads,” you began, picking up two different boxes and placing them into Bradley’s basket. “I’m grabbing you a thicker pad and a panty liner. Start with the thicker pad and definitely wear it overnight. But when your starts to stop, you can switch to the panty liner just to make sure you got it all out.”

“It seems pretty heavy now.”

“The first days are usually the heaviest. It’ll get lighter as the days pass. Some women finish their periods in two or three days. But if it goes on longer than a week, you should talk to your doctor about it. Or maybe go to see a gynecologist, if you can.”

Rooster stood there, quietly making notes to himself, in case he found himself in this position again. After reassuring and answering a few more of Amelia’s questions, you grabbed a box of tampons and placed them into the basket as well.

“I’m giving you a box of light tampons. They’re the smallest ones. But don’t feel like you have to use them. I waited almost two years to use them myself. But if you want to try it out, you just squat a little, insert it, push the smaller moveable part up while you hold the bigger piece in place, and then slowly pull the plastic out. Don’t leave that in there. And don’t forget to take it out after a couple hours.”

“Thank you,” Amelia replied, causing you to smile.

“Anytime.”

You handed the phone back to Rooster, who offered you a thankful smile before he pulled the phone up to his ear.

“You okay? Do you feel better now?” he asked Amelia.

“I mean, I’m still bleeding out, but at least you’re bringing the right stuff back.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be home soon. Text me if you need anything else.”

Rooster hung up the phone before turning back to you. Sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, Rooster tried to not be awkward after his request to you, a complete stranger. A complete, very cute, stranger, who was no longer staring at him like he was a freaky weirdo lurking in the feminine products aisle.

“I hope that was helpful,” you offered, causing Rooster to nod.

“Definitely. I was completely lost.”

“I could tell.”

“Right,” Rooster laughed off, rubbing the back of his neck. Slowly dropping his arm, he added, “Is there anything else that I should buy for her?”

“There’s always things that you can buy for this,” you assured him.

You led him through the aisles, placing some pain relievers and a hot water bottle in his basket. And when Rooster asked again if there was anything else that he could get for Amelia, you pulled him into the food section.

“Now, every woman is different, but when I’m on my period, I’m always craving something sweet. Chocolate is a good go-to, but honestly, I’m usually craving some kind of baked good. A cupcake or peanut butter cookies or something else entirely. Does she have anything that she usually likes to eat?”

“Peanut butter, actually, yeah,” Rooster agreed.

The two of you walked through the rest of the food section to pick out a few items before slowly making your way to the checkout aisles.

“I should pay for your stuff,” he offered, causing you to shake your head.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you insisted, holding your basket away from him. “It’s nothing.”

“Let me pay for something, at least.”

“You can buy me a coffee,” you replied, smiling softly. “After you go home and help Amelia, of course.”

You typed your phone number into Rooster’s phone and the two of you bid goodbye to each other before heading your separate ways. Not even an hour after you left the store, Rooster texted you.

Amelia told me to say thank you again for your help. She and I know that I would have been hopeless without you.

Sitting in your kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you typed back a response.

Always happy to help!

Biting your lip and wondering if the exclamation point was too aggressive, you let out a breath of relief when Rooster quickly texted you back.

Are you free tomorrow for that coffee? Amelia’s mom is coming home then, so I’ll be free.

Yeah, I’m free. Does 11 work? There’s a cute coffee shop right around the corner from Target with a nice patio in the back.

I know what place you’re talking about. I’ll see you there tomorrow at 11.

It’s a date, you typed back.

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httpsdana · 3 months ago

Note

i have a beautiful oneee

we all know that gavi is a shy guy right ?? sooo.. what about a more shy gf ( i mean where the reader will be more shy than him and he will really like it 😏😏 )

thanks if u did it ( if u add teasing it will be so fun 😂😂 )

Shy And Shyer~Pablo Gavi

*pictures are from Pinterest*

I hope you enjoy this one <3

request from here

master list

players/drivers I write for

Pablo was always the shy guy between all his friends and family. His fans knew he was a shy guy which is what they mostly liked about him.

However, when he met y/n, he realized he wasn't half as shy as she was. She changed that about him and made him more outgoing because she was too shy to do anything.

He was the one that talked to her first. He suggested giving her his number because she was too shy to take his phone and put hers instead when they first met.

But he adored that about her. He loved how he made her blush furiously by the smallest gesture like holding her hand or kissing her forehead.

The thing he loves the most was teasing her around others.

They were at Gavi's parents' house, giving them a visit since it has been a long time since they saw them.

y/n was in the kitchen with Gavi's mom and sister, just chatting and catching up, when Pablo entered the kitchen. He watched as his girlfriend nodded her head at what his mother was saying, not noticing his presence.

He snuck behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder.

She flinched when he touched her, then relaxed when she saw it was him. But then she noticed that his mom and sister were watching them. Her cheeks turned into a bright shade of red, as she tried to pull away from his grip

"hey what're you doing?" he mumbled into himer neck, y/n hoping that his family isn't looking at them.

"Pablo your mom is here" she whispered, her cheeks still as red as before.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss on her neck. She turned around, embarrassed by his affection in front of his mom and sister

"it's okay amor. they can know how much I adore you" he smirked at her, watching how she blushed more at his word.

She slapped his chest, hiding her face in his hoodie. He laughed at her embarrassment, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and lifting her slightly of the ground while hugging her

He just adored how she was embarrassed of every single thing he said or did to her. He loved making her blush and it just made him love her even more.

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faeriekit · 7 months ago

Text

Ghosts of Those We Once Knew

a phic phight fill for @silverwing013

Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents

**💚**

“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone.

There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline.

…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears.

Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink.

Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.

“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?”

“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay.

“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”

Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”

The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.

There was a moment of silence.

“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”

Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.

Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”

Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.

“Well?”

“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?

“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”

Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”

“So?”

…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.

Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.

Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.

…Who was Vladmir Masters?

It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.

Or. Well. Fly.

He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?

The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…

…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.

It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.

Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.

…Was still his mom.

Would…would always be his mom.

Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.

It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.

By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.

Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.

It was fine.

It was all going to be fine.

…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?

…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.

Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.

A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…

…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.

Holy crap.

Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.

Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”

The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”

“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.

Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—

Danny read the line again

—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.

Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.

…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.

Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.

He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.

It would be easy.

…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.

It had to be. It would have to be easy.

So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.

Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.

Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.

Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?

Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.

…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.

The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.

When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.

Danny waited.

…He waited.

And…Danny waited.

No one came.

Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?

Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?

Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.

Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.

On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.

Danny grimaced.

He…stuck his head through the door.

There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book.

…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering.

Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere.

He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale.

There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge.

Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here.

…Maybe he should look downstairs?

The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny.

Danny floated down deeper.

There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.

There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow.

They ended at a closed door.

Danny hesitated. He poked his head through.

On the other side was a ghost.

Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!

He should leave. Danny should leave.

Danny barely made it three doors down.

Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered.

The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath.

Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”

The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?

Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!”

The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—

You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped.

“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.

Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.”

The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away.

…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question.

“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this?

…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way?

Danny followed him into the room.

It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.

Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest.

The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head.

You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?

A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true?

“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”

The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.

Ominous.

May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response.

Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?”

No.

The ghost added nothing more.

Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine.

The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire.

And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—

—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.

Vlad Masters stared back at him.

…Huh.

Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move.

“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”

Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “You…know me?”

Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?”

Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning.

“House blew up.”

That was succinct enough, right?

The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”

…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy.

“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”

Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.”

Oh.

…Oh.

There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him.

And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia.

Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?”

Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.”

“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”

The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.”

“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?”

There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.

And then it was gone.

“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”

Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”

Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal.

“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.”

Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed.

They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again.

#phic phight 2024 #danny phantom #vlad masters #I forget Alicia's last name ngl #dead fenton parents #Jazz is sir not appearing in this film #danny fenton #good!Vlad au #phic phight #RIP a prarie home companion you were a cool show but your host was [REDACTED] of course you were gonna get cancelled #my and my persistent love of landlines #faer fic #I do not LIKE vlad. However. This intrigued me.#dead ghost man who furthers the study of ghosts while knowing his college besties might take advantage of him for their own research. whack #anyway. the portal blew up #phic phight 24

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a-998h · 3 months ago

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i saw that you were open for reqs !! I’ll take this opportunity lol

a steven universe x hybrid gem-human gn reader? Platonic pls.

TW: CHILD ABANDOMENT!

Seems like Rose wasn't the only gem who had a child with a human, but unlike Steven, you didn't know you were half gem for a long time. Your human parent didn't want anything to do with you, so you grew up without much of a family. When your powers act up during a corrupted gem attack, Steven and the Crystal Gems notice and take you into their family.

(This also takes place before Future/movie)

🌺Steven🌺

🌺 When he first met you, he wanted befriended you

🌺 He thought you were just a normal human, like connie, the cool kids, and his dad

🌺 He invited you over to his house for video games and a sleepover, but thinks didn't go as planned

🌺 Before you two could start inhaling the pizza Pearl ordered for you, there was a rumble

🌺 Next thing you all know, there is a corupted gem attacking

🌺 You're warned to stay inside, which you agree to becuase you're not dumb enough to fight a gem monster unarmed

🌺 Watching the fight you felt safe, until the monster turns it sights on you, before charging

🌺 In a panic, you cover your face with your arms and your gem powers kick in

🌺 Steven checks on you, and learns about your gem powers

🌺 Now, he's so happy to meet another gem human like him

🌺 When he learns about your situation, he feels really bad for you

🌺 Now, if you're older than him, he'll be so excited to have an older sibling, especially cuase you have gem powers like him

🌺 If you're younger than him, he'll try and act like the cool big brother, but he drops the act quick

🌺 He tells you all about his mom, sharing how cool she was

🌺 Steven is great with emotional situations, and will help you work through your trauma

🌺 When he learns about his mom being Pink Diamond, he tries to keep his emotions bottled up around you

🌺 During Change Your Mind, he makes sure you know you're more than your gem type to him

🌺 He teaches you how fusion works, and he will always make sure your ok when you two fuse

🌺 Introduces you to Lars, the Off Colors, Saddie Killer and the suspects, his dad, Connie, and all his other friends in Beach City

🌺 Warns you about Kevin, all the time

🌺 Makes sure you never think less about yourself because you're adopted

🌺 Will be all smiles the first time you bubble a gem

🦪 Pearl 🦪

🦪 She is the one who greets you when you arrive at the sleepover

🦪 Like Steven and the others, she thought you were just another one of Steven's human friends

🦪 She would tell you about gem history if you asked her

🦪 When the corrupted gem attacks, she focuses on keeping you and Steven safe

🦪 Once your powers show themselves, she is so confused and nervous at the same time

🦪 Once she learns you're like Steven, she gets mixed emotions

🦪 She will ask if you have agem or human family ro live with, and when you say no... she makes you extra cupcakes

🦪 Congratulations, you have a strict and caring mom now

🦪 Is very willing to help you master a sword or spear if you ask her

🦪 Helps you connect with your gem side a little bit more

🦪 She makes sure you know that the rank of your gem, doesn't define who you are as a person

🦪 Protective over you, sometimes crosses into smothering territory but Garnet pulls her back

🦪 Helps you navigate your powers as best she can

🦪 Teaches you a lot about Rose, the gem war, and kindergartens

🦪 Helps you learn fusion dances

🦪 Will be so proud of your first fusion, regardless if it's with her or not

🦪 During Change Your Mind, she helps you cope with all the nonsense of Homeworld and the Diamonds

🦪 Will scold and finger wag people in public who judge you for being adopted

🦪 Will be a proud mom when you bubble your first gem

🦪 Tries to keep you out of fights, even if your power is useful, she just worries

🦪 When everyone learns Pink Diamond and Rose were the same gem, she feels a little guilty because she felt like you'd never trust her agian

💍Garnet💍

💍 When she first meets you at Steven's sleepover, she is just silent most of the time

💍 Like everyone else, she thought you were just a normal human friend of Steven's

💍 She's the one who starts the attack on the corrupted gem

💍 Due to seeing you as a soft squishy human, she needs to make sure you're safe

💍 When your gem powers kick in, she just stares

💍 When she learns about your home situation, she feels really bad for you

💍 Makes sure you know that your awful human parent leaving you behind doesn't mean you're less than anyone

💍 Once you get adopted, both her and her counter parts feel bad for you

💍 She is the strict, quiet, and stoic mom who shows her love through actions

💍 As the show goes on, she becomes more open and emotional with everyone

💍 Is the main one who teaches you about fusion, even unfusing so you can meet Ruby and Sapphire

💍 Teaches you what a fusion should be, and how fusion works

💍 As your powers start to develop, she is proud of you

💍 Shares stories of Rose with you, and shares her origin story

💍 When Sapphire and Ruby break apart, they both try to be there for you

💍 When she gets married to herself, she might have a dance with you at the wedding

💍 Teaches you about love, to the best of her ability

💍 Gives you the same speech she gave Stevonnie when you fuse with someone for the first time

💍 Makes sure you know that your adoption or status of your gem doesn't dictate who you are as a person

💍 Will intimate anyone who makes fun of you for being adopted

💍 During Change Your Mind, she tries to keep you as safe as possible

💍 She makes sure you know family love

💜Amethyst💜

💜 The most excited to meet you

💜 Also tries to befriend you at first

💜 Keeps stealing pieces of the sleepover food

💜 When she attacks, she likes to show you how cool she is

💜 When your powers kick in, she is tackling you into a hug and calling you "cool" and "awesome"

💜 When she learns what happened with your home situation, she shapeshifts into the purple puma and says she'll beat them up

💜 Once you're adopted, she hands you a bag of Chaps and says "welcome to the family, you can call me big sis now"

💜 She lives you to her role as chaotic big sister

💜 Shows you her favorite food and is ready to show you her favorite games and food

💜 Let's you into the temple, mostly in her room

💜 She has learned from what happened with Steven, so you don't get taught how to shapeshift

💜 Takes you to the underground wrestling area, and likes to show off

💜 She tries her hardest to avoid showing you where she was made, she feels ashamed and doesn't want you to think less of her

💜 When she does show you the kindergarten, she makes jokes ato try and take the edge off

💜 Claims her right to name your first, unless the fusion names itself before then

💜 Protects you from Jasper

💜 She makes it known you're not less because you're a human-gem hybrid, whatever cut of gem you are, or because you're adopted

💜 When everyone learns Rose's secret, she tries to make you feel a little bit better

💜 When the events of Change Your Mind happen, she makes sure that the criticism of Homeworld doesn't ruin your self esteem

💜 Tries to show you here way of fusing, with mixed results

💜 Might use you as a rock at times, but then does the same for you

💜 Shows you her ski ball trick, and many other ways to be a menace in Funland

💜 You, her, and Steven have fun of cause chaos around Beach City

💜 She doesn't care about where you came from, she cares about who you are

#steven universe x reader #steven universe headcanon #steven universe #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fandom #crystal gems x reader #gem-human! Reader #gn reader #gender nuetral reader #all platonic #platonic fanfic #platonic headcanons #platonic #tw: child abandonment

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