#boppy the rock | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecapricunt1616 · 6 months ago

Text

More Daddy!Carmy brainrot

Sorry but more postpartum daddy!Carm brainrot below.

Please- he would be such a natural little daddy?

He would wake the second his babe fussed, getting up without missing a beat, carefully taking the few steps to the bassinet and picking up his tiny love. Mumbling

‘Hey- eyyyy sweet’eart, y’hungry? Mm? Need a change? Let y’Daddy have a look ‘uh? Daddy ‘ell take such good care’e’ya mm?’ Kissing their tiny forehead so lovingly before checking their diaper to assure they were dry and comfortable.

Then he’d grab the super comfy overpriced boppy from the rocking chair, setting his tiny love to rest comfortably on his shoulder and shushing them while rubbing their back and bouncing them gently, patting their bum soothingly and telling them that their daddy’s got them and it’s gonna be ok.

He’d ever so gently wake you, brushing his knuckle over your cheek. You’d stir lightly and he’d whisper sweetly

“Say ‘m’hungry mama’s’ mm? Y’Such a smart little guy yea?” You hear him mutter into your little boys skin.

“Hungry?” You mumble, eyes fluttering open at the word, realizing the full feeling in your breasts and immediately knowing what you needed to do.

“ ‘ayyy look who it is lil’dude? S’that mama?” He coo’s, gently cradling him. Your baby makes little clicking noises and you smiled, pushing your nightgown off your shoulder and undoing your nursing bra.

“Gimme my little man” you open your arms and your beautiful little boy carefully was placed in your lap in his boppy, and he ever so naturally found your breast suckling happily and sighing as he comfortably rested his hand on the hill of your breast and relaxed without a care in the world. Carmy of course would grab your little let down bottle and get it situated on your other breast without even asking.

“Such a good eater” he encouraged, sitting beside you after the letdown bottle had been taken care of and rubbing your lower back gently.

You shifted uncomfortably at the cramps, resting your head against Carmys shoulder and he ever so gently stroked your son’s cheek. “Mama is so strong, huh babe? See how strong she is f’you?” He says gently and your son’s eyes fluttered open, watching his dad closely as he suckled happily, a tiny smile on his lips.

“So strong” Carmy whispered as the baby huffed happily against your breast, gulping down all he wanted.

“M’tired- an’ he’s biting lately” you whisper. Carmy lays back, supporting your son with one arm and you with another.

“Sleep angel, I got em- he’s fine, won’t choke see- he’s sittin’ up honeybee. I’ll burp em’ as soon as he’s done yeah? An’put y’letdown milk in the fridge f’em yea? He’s good - ye’ mister? No bitin’ y’momma! Y’gotta be nice t’her- she does such a good job feedin’ you mm? Be a good little man” He cooed to your son and in response he made a sweet ‘hmmmm’ noise as he continues to gulp down your milk, kicking his little legs sweetly and watching his dad kiss his little feet playfully.

“Mmhmm” you said tiredly, yawning big and Carmy rubbed your belly gently.

“Such a good mommy” he encouraged, gently rubbing your sons foot to which it curled up sweetly

“D’y’know what that’s called?” You muse, watching as his toes curl back and widen adorably to your touch.

“Mm?” He asked gently, not wanting to disturb the gulping little guy on your breast.

“The babinski reflex” you mused smiling softly as you watch him eat.

“The babinski reflex…” carmy repeats, watching him closely. “What’s that baby?” He mused

“S’just a reflex mammals have - see watch -“ you gently place your thumb in the middle of his foot, and his itty bitty toes curl around your finger “that is the grasp reflex. Smart boy” you coo, kissing his foot gently and he huffs into your skin, closing his eyes again.

“Grasp mm? His hand does that too watch” he mused, brushing his pinky over the babes palm and he grasped Carm’s finger tightly, before letting go of your breast with a click and bringing his finger to his mouth and sucking it.

Carmy didn’t stop him, in fact, he grabbed his phone and took a video of his little guy “babe! Babe look! He’s sucking my finger!!!” He said excitedly, looking at you then back at the phone in disbelief.

To which you’re jokingly like “Mmhmm! Wanna take over? Feeding him off my tits every hour is getting exhausting bear if you wanna have a turn I mean…”

#CapriCarmy blurb #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #the bear fic #the bear #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff

210 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

Text

Endurance 1

Warnings: this fic will include obsessive behaviour, possible non/ducbon, bullying, and other elements which may not be specifically triggered. Please be cautious in continuing on to the story.

Character: Walter Marshall

Summary: A fellow gym go makes your workouts even more taxing.

Please reblog and leave some feedback, preferably in a reblog but you can always drop by my asks. I always love working in y'alls ideas with these AUs so I am so excited to hear from you.

As always, take care of yourself <3 be kind and be patient. Love you.

No tag lists. Please review my pinned and bio for guidelines.

You come out of the changing room and peek at the wall mirror as you pass. You admire your new bubblegum pink leggings and polka dot top. It’s a bit out there but you’ve seen neons in this place that make your retinas burn. Besides, you’ve never been shy when it comes to fashion. It’s not just your passion, it’s your job.

It’s late enough that the bodies there are far and few between. You prefer the nights when the gym feels like a ghost town. The air is quiet but not stagnant.

Your water bottle swings on its handle from your hand as your bouncy steps keep in time with the boppy music thrumming in your earbuds. Your workout mix is a nice blend of retro and contemporary bass hits. You catch yourself humming and stamp it down. Sometimes, you forget other people can perceive you, not that there’s many around to so.

You find an empty mat. They all are. You put your bottle down and start your stretches. Your late night sessions help clear your mind though it never really stops. In your mind, you’re seeing pleats, seams, and ruffles.

Your body moves without thinking. It’s all muscle memory. You’re no gym rat, you don’t go that hard, just enough to loosen up your muscles. Your note overly swoll as the young ones call it. You’re fit enough for a light jog and the stairs don’t leave you winded like they used to.

After your stretches, you slurp loudly from the straw of your water bottle, walking with it still between your lips as you head for an elliptical. You can just let the repetitive motion take over. You pop your lips off the tub and slip the bottle into the little plastic holder on the side of the machine.

As you climb up, you see another figure across the floor. The man sits on the end of a weight bench. For a moment, it looks, even feels, like he’s watching you. From there, you can’t see very well. You don’t wear your glasses in the gym since you lost a pair to a hungry leg press.

You can make out dark hair and his burly form. Hazy but wide enough to clock. Most people around here are stacked. You’re too casual for all that. And you like a piece of tiramisu with your Friday lattes.

You pick your speed and start to climb. You cling to the machine and rock your head to the music. Once more, your throat vibrates and you have to remind yourself to stop. You can’t help it, you love Destiny’s child. Does that date you? For someone working in fashion, you can’t ever risk that.

You zone out, vision blurring as you let your body do the work. The sweat speckles and slicks across your skin. Damn, you might just be bootylicious after this work out.

Your fitbit rumbles and you look down. You’re in the zone. You keep going until you hit thirty minutes and slow down. You cool off for ten minutes and swipe up your bottle, sucking on it greedily as you head back to the mats.

You swing out your arms and stretch your legs in slowly lunges. You bend forward, touching each toe with opposite hand, lingering with your ass up as you brace your hips. A sudden clang has you standing straight so fast you nearly topple onto your butt.

You throw out your arms to catch your balance as you let out a pathetic, ‘woah-oh-oh'. You look over at the man as begins reps with the heavy dumbbells. You’ve never gotten above the tens. His blue eyes flash in your direction and you give a sheepish smile.

You don’t want to seem weird so you return to your stretches. Arms up, lean to one side, then the other. You hear a strange rumble, like thunder, and look over at the man as he continues to work his traps, staring at you. You could even call it a glare.

You tap your ear bud as you face him, “sorry?”

“Do you have to make that noise?” He snarls.

Your brows pop up. We’re you humming again? Oops.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I was,” you smile and before you can tap play, he scoffs.

“Typical,” he grumbles as alternates to biceps.

He’s built. He’s arms are bigger than your head. Probably. You don’t think he’d let you compare for scale. You drop your hand without tapping.

You get down and extend your legs in front of you. His breaths underline your movement as you bend one leg over the other and push your straight arm against it as you twist. As you do the other side, facing him, his gaze flicks over again.

“You put more time into choosing that outfit than you do working out,” he shakes his head.

You blanch. Oh wow. You must have been really out of tune if he’s that grumpy. You give a tight-lipped smile and keep going. He’s not the first grouch you’ve dealt with. Your editor is a chronic miser.

You straight arms and legs and bend to touch your toes. You then pull your arms back and plant your hands. You lift your pelvis and torso and lean your head back, raising yourself in a straight line as you hang your head back.

“Form is off,” he mutters.

You lower back down and look at him again.

“Oh, uh, do you have any tips?” You ask curiously. He grimaces. You push your shoulders up and tilt your head, “well, if you think of any, I'd be happy to work on it. I’d hate to hurt myself.”

You get to your knees and groan as you push yourself to your feet. He tuts as gets down to plank, still gripping the weights. He lifts the left and puts it back down, then the right. You watch him for a minute, impressed by his strength. Your wary of lifting too much, you don’t trust yourself.

“You think your cute,” he sneers under his breath.

“Um, sometimes,” you hover across from him, “I just thought you might know more than me--”

“Of course I do,” he puffs between lifts.

“Mm, okay, well, I’d love to learn--”

“They got trainers for that,” he snips as he finishes his reps and puts his knees down.

“Right, um, sorry to bother then. I was only... asking,” you turn and grab your bottle.

You flip the top up again and slurp. You get to the bottom, sucking air loudly up before giving up. He huffs and stands with the weights, slamming them back on the rack.

“Do you have to make so much goddamn noise?” He stands straight and turns to you, crossing his thick arms. You stop short and part your lips.

“It’s empty, I didn’t--”

“It’s not the only thing’s that empty,” he taps his skull, “go back to the mall, girl.”

You scrunch your nose, “you don’t have to be rude, mister.”

“Honesty is a gift,” he snorts.

You pull your chin back. You didn’t mean to annoy him and you apologised already. You’re a nice person but you don’t appreciate his tone.

“Well, if I’m being honest,” you put your hands on your hips, “you’re not very nice.”

He chortles as a crease forms in his forehead, “and you’re not as cute as you think.”

“What does it matter what I think I am?” You challenge, “I didn’t ask you.”

“No, you just float around like some airhead and disturb everyone else,” he accuses.

You peer around, “there’s no one here.”

He drops his arms and lifts his chin. He steps forward and you waver, just a bit, put off by his size.

“I’m here,” he says.

You blink. What does that mean?

He takes another step and you stare at him, necks and cheek burning. His words strike an epiphany. It’s just you and him. He’s a lot stronger than you.

Another step and you put your hands up, “mister, you better not come any closer.”

He scoffs again, “or what? Are you going to cry?”

You pout and shake your head, “no, but I... I could scream. Or bite.”

He shakes his head, “what do you think I’m gonna do, girl? That’s what you do, isn’t it? Make yourself the victim. You need the attention to make you feel special.”

He’s getting closer.

“I said stay away,” you project your voice as best you can, “I’m not afraid of you, mister.”

He chuckles and tilts his head. He stops, just a step away from you, “aren’t you?’

Your eyes meet his and you stand trapped in the snare of his glower. His blue eyes are deep and fiery, his chiseled face is framed by dark curls and a thick beard, and his chin is cleft handsomely. He’s fearsome, a bear in man’s flesh. You’re no more than helpless hare.

You back away and his mouth slants in triumph. He’s won. You turn and gulp, gripping tight your bottle as your sneaker squeaks loudly. You scurry away, buzzing with adrenaline.

“That’s right, you run away, girl, run as fast as you can,” he calls after you, “not very, I’m sure.”

You keep a brisk walk as you hurry towards the locker room and push inside. Your heart is hammering and your breathless as you reach your locker. You put the bottle on the bench and clutch the sides of your head. You’re dizzy as you try to get a rein on your frazzled nerves.

You thought you left the bullies behind in high school, over a decade ago. In that second, you’re right back in your teenage years. Your eyes sting with tears and your stomach churns with humiliation. That glimmer of insecurity creeps back into you.

No, no. You’re an adult. You’re a grown woman. You have a job and a life you love. You’re nothing they said you were. You proved them all wrong and you will prove that butthead wrong too.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #series #gym au #au #night hunter #endurance

179 notes · View notes