#do you know how delighted i was to find it in english???? it means a lot to see it used so casually in my beloved game series
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
cuerue · 4 months ago
Text
okay but people whining about the inclusion of words “trans” and “non-binary” in veilguard is so annoying to me. why does it bother you that those words aren’t replaced by some fantasy equivalent while words like “man” and “woman” are used all the time in the setting. why is it fine to say “man” but saying “trans man” breaks your immersion. think really hard about that one.
33 notes · View notes
cheapshrimpysheep · 14 days ago
Text
What if They were Dads?
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: Headcanons of what I think they would be like as fathers to your child. And what if his dormmates were like honorary uncles to the child?
CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia)
TAGS: Headcanon; Fem!Reader (AFAB) (I never really know what tags to use but I hope you know what I mean)
WORD COUNT: An average of 690 words per character.
COMMENTS: I would have liked to have made a headcanon about the relationship with the boys' parents and siblings, but since we don't know them that well or at all on the Eng Server like Vil's father, I think I'll leave that for a possible post that complements this one. If you want.
Since I didn't want each character to have a big chunk of text, I put them as paragraphs instead of bullet points.
I hope you enjoy 🩵
Tumblr media
CONTEXT: This was written with a cisgender female reader in mind. Reader is Yuu. But if you want (and can) read it in any other way, feel free to.
By the way, this is one of those moments when I wish English had a second person plural, instead of the singular and plural being the same. Whenever I write “your child” I mean it in the plural (you, the reader, and his)
Tumblr media
Riddle’s child(ren) call him: Father
Riddle has the same demands and standards for his child that he has for himself. But he doesn't want to make the same mistakes as his mother, so in comparison he can be more permissive. Because of this he will ALWAYS listen to you if you tell him he is being too harsh.
In terms of studies, etiquette and behaviour he is quite strict as you would expect. But when it comes to play he lets his child do almost anything they want.
He doesn't know how to play with his child, but he will always make an effort to learn how to and do it with them. He almost seems to regress to the childhood he never had and wants to give to his child. Whenever the child learns a new game, they will show it and teach it to Riddle and he will be delighted with it.
Although he is strict, he is also relatively protective, especially if your child is a girl. He tries not to be overly protective, but he can't help but worry about your child. If there was a right way to raise a child, is he doing his job well enough? You will have several conversations at first to reassure him that he is doing a good job.
He will study any and all parenting books that experts in child behaviour and education recommend. This kind of knowledge is never too much. Which often leads you to try to convince him to relax and just trust his instincts and what he feels is right. The child is his, not all those authors and experts. Sometimes there are things that a parent simply knows.
Lawful and calm Uncle Trey. They love uncle Trey's sweets! Sometimes Riddle asks him if he's not giving them too much sweets and Trey always assures him that it's okay because he knows how to make healthier sweets and the limit for a child to eat. If they weren't already Riddle's child, the whole thing about always brushing their teeth could be scary.
Chaotic Uncle Che'nya. The crazy and fun Uncle! Your child and Che'nya join forces (maybe even with you) to play pranks on Riddle. Never anything that could get the child into trouble with their father, just enough for everyone, Riddle included, to have fun.
Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce are more from your side than Riddle's honestly. Ace is a bit like Che'nya in the case of being one of the chaotic pranksters uncles. But he is also the uncle of magic tricks who is always deceiving, but also entertaining your child with them.
Deuce is the rad uncle with a cool moto and/or even cooler blastcycle, who offers to take your child for a ride in it with him. Your child also finds it funny to see the two of them arguing amicably. But it’s even funnier to see them imitating their father trying to order them to stop arguing.
Uncle Cater doesn't show up very often, but they like him. He's not chaotic like Ace and Che'nya, but he's also fun. Your child enjoys receiving compliments from him and taking pictures with him.
Your child imitates their father scolding Grim too. Just like Riddle (and probably because they're still little) they have a very bad temper. Riddle gets embarrassed whenever you say that someone takes after their father.
Tumblr media
Leona’s child(ren) call him: Dad
Leona still doesn't like kids... your child(ren) is/are just an exception.
Yes, Leona would treat a daughter slightly differently than he would treat a son. In the same way that he treats men and women a little differently. But the only difference is that he would be tougher on a son than a daughter, but will still be affectionate regardless.
No matter what gender his child is, he wants the same for them: be strong both physically and mentally. To outsiders like some servants or citizens who don't know him, they may get to the point of thinking Leona is a harsh father who doesn't deserve all that love from his child, and he will tell both you and your child not to mind that. But the truth is that he is just like he was with you at school: a tough guy who hides a caring heart.
Leona continues to show himself to be a person who doesn't want anyone to upset him and who would growl at anyone who bothers him. The only people who can get close to him even when he's angry and remain safe and sound are you and your child. He'll still growl at you and your child quietly, but there will be a volume that is the line, like if his growl is louder than that limit it's because he's getting really angry, until then it's just him being him.
Your child will already have the best private teachers and tutors (one of them being Kifaji/Neji if he’s still alive), but even so, Leona will want to make them study and learn more. But in that discreet way that he knows. He will not force them to study more, he will find a way to convince them to want to learn more on their own.
You end up being the most affectionate parent and the one they trust for emotional comfort. Leona is the tough love, you are the soft love (at least in comparison). Leona will always tease you, insinuating that you are too soft and only spoil your child. Although he enjoys when you spoil him too.
He is 100% the ‘Go ask your mom’ kind of dad.
He lets his child take naps with him. And you too.
If he has more than one child, he will police himself not to favor any of them. He may have a tendency to favor the younger ones because of what he went through as the youngest himself, but none of his children will be treated in any special/different way based on their birth order. Neither the youngest nor the oldest.
He will try to convince his child not to be too close (emotionally) to their uncle or cousin, but won't stop them from playing with Cheka. When your child is old enough not to tell others what is said in your home, Leona and them will talk badly about Falena and Cheka behind their backs.
Leona will prefer your child to play with Ruggie and/or his children. On the one hand, he wants to keep them away from his family, but on the other hand, he also wants his child to know what the real world is like, to see both wealth and poverty, to know royalty as they knows their people and only then create their own judgement.
They don't call anyone uncle or aunt other than Falena and his wife. In the same way, Leona also doesn't give cute titles to anyone without being sarcastically. Even when he calls you “love”, “darling”, “honey” or something like that, it's to tease you.
Whenever you go to Shaftlands, whether for democratic reasons or on holiday, you always try to find a way to meet with Jack. Leona pretends that he only helps you with this because you want to see your friend and he wants to get rid of his family. Both you and Jack know that he just doesn't want to admit that he wants to see him too. Jack is the cool parent's friend who taught your child how to snowboard. While they are little they like to hug his tail because it’s fluffy.
Despite everything, he doesn't want his child to have the same lack of hope that he has, and despite trying to hide it, he always feels extremely guilty and bad whenever your child says something like that. At these times he relies on you to be the ray hope in that house, they will both need you for that.
Both Leona and your child are afraid of you when you get really serious or angry.
Do you know that scene from The Lion King where Mufasa uses Zazu to give Simba an pouncing lesson? Leona often does something similar, but instead of the target being a blue bird, it's a magical creature called Grim.
Tumblr media
Azul’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)
Azul is an extremely emotional father, despite trying to hide it. There's going to be a lot of moments like: “HE/SHE IS THE CUTEST LITTLE THING IN THE WHOLE- *clears throat* I mean, he/she is such a charming little child.” He will most likely cry at your baby's first words, steps, anything.
Azul is overprotective! If any living creature even thinks about harming your child, he will tortu- that is, find a completely legal way to ensure that it never happens again. Now, if you'll excuse him, he suddenly felt like talking to Jade and Floyd. (The same protectiveness applies to you.)
Although he is very (secretly) emotional and loves to spoil his child, he is also relatively strict about their studies. He likes to spoil them (and you) when it's deserved, but he will not raise a spoiled child! This ends up balancing things out a bit.
He will hide the whole mafia-like part of his life from his child. Dad is just doing business, boring adult stuff. Maybe when your child is older he will start to reveal a little of that side of his life, if they later want to join their father it will be their choice. But until then, let them be innocent children, they are cuter and happier that way, there is time for everything.
He will always hold back his emotional side so as not to be overly affectionate. Unless his child starts crying. At that point his mask falls completely and he becomes the most affectionate and comforting father there can be, that is his weakness.
And if one day the child realizes this and starts using crying to get what they want from him, he won't know whether to be angry that he is being emotionally manipulated by his own child, or proud that they learned so quickly.
You will be the only one immune to the fake crying.
From the beginning, Azul has been wary and suspicious of letting Jade and Floyd be like uncles to your child. However, you two ended up letting this happen, but Azul will always keep an eye open.
Both Jade and Floyd will definitely use the child to play pranks on Azul. Mostly Floyd, Jade prefers to watch and assist. Azul will always be upset with the twins, never with his child. And depending on the severity of the prank, he will turn on his overprotective side and threaten Jade and Floyd that if that happens again they will never see your child again. They never go beyond that limit.
Every now and then when Floyd plays with your child, he will do that joke where he playfully tells them he's going to catch them and bite them. Actually in his playful voice, he doesn't want to scare them. And they will run to Azul and hide behind his legs asking for help while laughing. Or tentacles if they are in their merfolk form.
You know those little plastic cashiers where kids pretend to have a little shop and try to sell things to people at home? Usually parents or sibling. Azul loves to play this with his child because it is a great and fun way to pass on his knowledge. Both about sales and about taking care of your money. Usually using the Grim as a guinea pig. Grim also likes to play because he always ends up with food in exchange for toy money.
If you ask them Jade is the scary uncle (only sometimes) but they themselves don't even know why. It's just his vibe or something. However, they are not afraid to ask any of them for something, it being to play or for help.
Tumblr media
Jamil’s child(ren) call him: Dad (in informal moments) and Father (at formal events)
Jamil needed to learn to express himself more and better emotionally so as not to end up being a cold father without meaning to. He needs your help to teach your child when to hold back and when to know when they are in a safe space to let go.
The only thing that will follow Jamil forever is an inevitable feeling of guilt for your child having the same fate as him, simply for being his child: serving the Al-Asim family with no other choice. But you can be assured that if there is a way to stop this and give his child freedom of choice, whatever that method may be, he will not give up until he finds it and do it! Normally parents want to give their children what they always wanted and could never have, in Jamil's case it’s freedom.
There was something Jamil wanted to do, but he didn't have the courage to ask the Al-Asim for some kind of vacation. But you had! Using your great friendship with Kalim, you managed to get him to allow you to take a vacation long enough for you to travel as a family, as Jmail wanted. Jamil has always wanted to travel alone, but now with you and your child he would like to travel as a family and give his child the experiences he would have liked to have had himself.
He is quite demanding with his child's education and training. However, his attitude towards this is always calm and collected, and he is attentive to his child's limitations and needs. He is a great and responsible tutor, who knows how to distinguish between being a teacher and being a father.
He is usually quite serious, so you and your child are the ones who start messing with him to have fun and make him laugh. It's always nice when he reminds you two that he can also be a tease. Normal or biggest target of your joint teasing ends up being Grim at some point.
During his work as Kalim's servant, Jamil always had to cook a lot and he's not that big a fan of cooking, so so he can rest at home you're the one who cooks most of the time. He will teach you everything you want to learn and at first you will cook together a lot until you feel comfortable cooking alone. But even then he will continue to offer to help you. Your child will continue to say that Jamil's food is tastier, but yours is prettier. And the food you make together is the best because it’s tasty and pretty. Jamil will also encourage his child to cook with you two so that they can learn from a young age.
His child knows that there is only one thing in this world that can make their father scream in fear: Bugs! If your child is also afraid of insects, you're screwed, because you will be the insect killer in that house. However, if it is just the two of them, Jamil's protective instinct will be stronger and despite his fear he will protect his child. If your child is not afraid of insects, then Jamil will have two protectors. “Can you do dad a favor?”; “Where is it?”; “Living room, south wall last time I saw.”; “Does it fly?”; “...Yes.”
Kalim will treat your child almost like one of his own children, for loving you both so much. He got emotional when he found out you were pregnant, he wanted to help pay for your doctor's appointments if necessary (never was), and he got emotional again when your child was born. He loves buying toys for your child too and give them gifts. He would love for Jamil to let them call him Uncle Kalim. And he loves it when your kids play together.
Tumblr media
Vil’s child(ren) call him: Father 
Vil wants to have a family that is at its best as he likes to be at his best himself. He wants you and your child to be as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, just as he strives to be as well. However, he would treat a daughter slightly differently than a son because of the different pressures of societal beauty standards.
With a son he would be as strict with him as he is with himself. But with a daughter, he knows she's more likely to suffer from these kinds of things. So although he continues to be relatively strict and wants her to be the best she can be, he ends up being softer with criticism and stronger with praise and soft love than he would be with a son.
He would hire a specialist, like as a child psychologist or something like that, to always know the best ways to rise and protect your child. Children of famous people like him, especially in the digital and social media age, may need more protection from their parents in this regard, in addition to the toxic pressure of comparison that exists. However, because Vil cares so much about your child's personal development as their happiness, he may end up putting enormous pressure on himself to be a perfect parent too.
Both Vil and your child will need you to be the person who brings them both back to the real world and the life of a loving family with flaws like any human being. Vil will always listen to you if you feel he may be being too harsh and demanding with your child, or with himself in terms of parenting.
If you are the type of person who likes to tease Vil by letting yourself be sloppy from time to time, (always at home) then your child will also like to tease their father like that. “You have your mother’s cheekiness, I see.” Vil sighs but laughs. The teasing includes eating sweets and food that Vil would not approve of. You are the parent they ask for things from and who best comforts and pampers them. You two probably team up to make Vil relax and have fun with you.
His child will have the best teachers and tutors, go to the best schools and best establishments for any extracurricular activity they want to have. Vil will probably force them to have an extracurricular activity but they will be free to choose which one.
Rook is OBSESSED with your child! In a respectful way of course, he is just already a huge fan. The result of combining your DNA with Vil's? MERVEILLEUX! He won't hold back the tears when he sees the baby for the first time. He will LOVE playing with your child. He will babysit for free and will be happy to do so if you ever need. It will be a long time before he stops getting so emotional whenever your child calls him "Uncle Rook."
Uncle Epel is the rad uncle, when Vil is not around. He is that person who will help your child do cool activities that Vil may not allow. Like taking a blastcycle ride with him, eat grilled meats, playing with things that make the child very dirty or other things that Vil didn't like Epel to do when they were at NRC. But if at least one parent allows it (you), then there is no problem. Right? All this, of course, when Vil is not around.
When he is there, both Epel and your child behave like little angels. You and Epel have to be very careful that the child doesn't get careless and say something in Epel's dialect in front of Vil. They love Uncle Epel because it is fun to do cool things without their father knowing and with your help.
Your child likes to use Grim as a doll to dress up in cute clothes. The funny thing is that Grim likes it too because your child eventually realizes that if they tell him he looks cool instead of cute, he'll let them keep dressing him up.
Tumblr media
Idia’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)
Idia doesn't believe he can be a good father. A shut-it and antisocial otaku like him? Are you crazy? That's a disaster! He can't take care of himself, how is he going to help you raise a child? However, and especially with you, he also has that overly cocky side that believes that even being an antisocial nerd he would be 1000 times better than a lot of parents out there. So basically he has a tendency to oscillate between these two moods.
In comparison, you are the strict parent, he is the parent who spoils the child. They are both afraid of you when you get upset. He's a ‘Don't tell your mother’ type of dad. He can't say no to his child, but, oddly enough, he can't be emotionally manipulated either. He may even let his child do a lot of things, but even he has limits to what he knows is good or bad for them.
Because he's the permissive father, he's also the scariest when he gets serious. He can never get really mad at his child, but he can say a firm and assertive “No” if necessary. However, if they are still very young and start crying, he will panic and call you immediately. You will then have to comfort Idia and tell him that no, he did not make a decision that put him on the path to the traumatic and apocalyptic ending. What he probably did was the opposite.
If it depends on him, his child will be a nerd/otaku just like his father. However, he doesn't want them to be socially anxious like him and will always encourage them to go for walks with you outside even if it's without him. That doesn't mean there aren't times you drag him outside with you.
Besides occasionally questioning whether he is being a good father, there is something else that haunts him... He still carries and will probably always carry the feeling of guilt for what happened to Ortho, so he is absolutely TERRIFIED that something like that may happen again.
Idia has always tried to keep your child as far away as possible from all areas that are dangerous or even remotely similar to the hallway where that happened. But if your child ever happens to even enter an area that their father did not allow, they will get to know a side of Idia that sometimes you yourself don’t even remember exists: The overprotective, traumatized side that isn't afraid to scare his child if it means keeping them away from the danger. And probably the only way they'll see his red hair. But it will probably be after that, that the two of you will have an open heart conversation and Idia will apologize.
Now, about Uncle Ortho, they LOVE uncle Ortho! He's the one who goes for a walk with you and your child when you and he can't convince Idia to go too. He is a cheerful uncle who loves to play with your child. You three made up stories to explain why uncle Ortho was a humanoid. You always make up different and crazy stories to jest with them and make them change the subject. The day will come when they will be old enough to know the truth.
Idia may even talk badly about himself a lot of the times, but no matter what his child do, they are talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular and everything good. “Of course that's because they inherited it from you, not me.” He will say with a smile.
Both Idia and your child treat Grim like a pet cat and find it funny to see him getting grumpy.
Idia spoke to his child in that baby voice when they themselves were also babies. And maybe also when they are children to the point where they tell him to stop treating them like babies.
Tumblr media
Malleus’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older) Father (at formal events)
The day Malleus found out you were pregnant was already a happy day, but the day your child was born was the happiest day of his life! And every moment with them is the happiest moment of his day. And of course with you too. He totally and completely loves his family!
Anyone who dares to speak ill of the child of Malleus Draconia, especially about the fact that they are half-human, will suffer the consequences! Anyone who spoke openly about the child being something of a disgrace, shame or an abomination was either killed or imprisoned. (Depending on how opposed you really are to Malleus killing or ordering someone to be killed.) and of course, the same applies to talking bad about you.
The problem is that this is doing the same thing to your child that was done to him. He's scaring everyone and making them afraid to come near your child for fear of saying or doing something that might upset them or Malleus. He listens to you and agrees with you, showing concern and thoughtfulness about what should be done. He hates people being disrespectful to the ones he loves, but he also doesn't want his child to go through what he went through.
What ends up happening is that, on Malleus's part, he realizes that he has to start learning ways for people to respect his child without using fear, but to do that he also has to start letting certain insults slide. He doesn't like it, but if it's what's best for his child, he'll do the best he can. Although the same applies if they disrespect you. He hates it so much!
In the case of your child, you are helped by Lilia (if he’s still alive), Silver, Sebek and their families. Perhaps trying to spend more time among their people and with other fae, humans, and half-fae might be beneficial to a child's social development.
Lilia would treat the child as if they were his own grandchild. Even if Silver also has children, they are ALL Lilia's grandchildren! “There's no denying it any longer... I am... officially... an old man... For the best possible reasons!” Everyone will rescue your child from Lilia's food. “Never eat anything that Grandpa Lilia cooks, you hear?”
Silver is the calm uncle who, despite not being the most fun to play with, is the one they turn to when they want to rest and simply have a good chill time. Or take a nap. Probably who they turn to to run away and hide from Sebek when he's being annoying. He ends up being the adult (than is not their parents) that they trust most and feel most comfortable with. Silver is very happy when they ask him for help to get closer to an animal to see it better, and even more so if they and the animals end up interacting and playing with each other.
Now about Uncle Sebek... If there is anyone more protective and flattering of that child than Malleus, it is Sebek. He cried when the child was born, for sure. And cried even more when the child said his name, or whenever they at least tried to. The day they called him "Uncle Sebek" he was about to have a heart attack. The problem is that he ends up being one of those type of person who adores children (although in his case the only ones he likes would be Malleus's and his own children) to the point that the child finds them annoying and clingy. “But don't tell Uncle Sebek that, he'll be sad.”
Whenever the child throws a tantrum that ends up causing their powers to manifest in storms or uncontrolled magic, Malleus will take care of it while you stay away and safe. To him, any attack would be mere tickling, but he always made sure that your child knows that the same does not apply to you. They may end up thinking that you are very fragile while they are little, but it is better this way to ensure that they do not hurt you unintentionally.
This also means that whenever you need to say ‘No’ to your child, Malleus will do it if there is a possibility that they would start throwing tantrums. At least while they are young and cannot control their powers well.
Malleus also runs the risk of being a father who spoils his children.
Your child and Grim probably burn a lot of things around the castle because they play together and they both have fire powers.
Tumblr media
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
And if you would like to read this but with other characters you can write in the comments. If this post has a lot of notes (likes and reblogs) I might consider making a second part with other characters.
2K notes · View notes
tragedy-machine · 26 days ago
Text
“Edwin, do you ever think about… what it’d be like if we went to school together?”
“I cannot say that I do, Charles.”
“I do, sometimes. About how life would be like if we were both alive and attending St. Hilarion right now.”
“I assume your vision does not include any of our classmates being killers?”
“Nah, ‘course not. Times are different now, aren’t they? So… what do you think?”
“Well, you would be a star of the cricket team, no doubt. And you can certainly bounce a ball without letting it fall for a very long period of time, so maybe a football star, as well.”
“I don’t know about being a star, but– cheers.”
“Of course. Indeed, given your natural charisma, one might readily surmise that people would be most inclined to gather about you. If they possessed any sense whatsoever, your classmates should eagerly seek to make your acquaintance. You would graciously give everyone the time of day, much as you do with our clients, and they would be endlessly charmed by you. ”
“Now you’re really overdoing it, mate. What about you?”
“Me? Oh. I would… greatly delight in the study of languages. I have heard it said that schools nowadays offer a wider array of them within their curriculum. Literature, too, holds a special allure for me; indeed, I might even volunteer my services in the school library, simply for the opportunity to spend more time there or attend a study club. Science has also been a source of fascination for me—chemistry in particular, I could well imagine devoting a lot of time to it.”
“Mhmm, go on.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“What of your friends?”
“I have not considered– perhaps other members of the literature club? Our recent adventure in the States have shown me that although people are decidedly still not my forte, it is possible for me to make acquaintances with them if they share my interests. If they are not dreadfully insufferable, that is to say.”
“And…?”
“And?”
“C’mon, how do we meet?”
“Oh. Realistically, I do not think our paths would cross. You would have more than enough friends interested in sports and music and other activities you enjoy, and I would never set foot near a gymnasium or a music room. We are an unlikely pair, after all.”
“...what? You don’t think we’d be friends if we were at school together?”
“I merely mean to say— as I have mentioned— with a sufficient company of good and worthy friends around you, you would have little cause to seek me out at school, particularly as we would be spending our time entirely differently.”
“Edwin, that’s horrible. A load of tosh, if I’ve ever heard one. I refuse to believe that. We could meet in class, or– maybe I’d have trouble with English, it’s never been my favorite, could never get my letters correct, could I? And since you’re so good at it, you’d offer to tutor me.”
“You believe I would offer?”
“‘Course, you’re proper kind like that, aren’t you? Or I’d ask you and you wouldn’t be able to say no to me.”
“So certain I would not be, even right from the beginning?”
“Isn’t that how our first meeting went?”
“...touché. You can be quite persistent. However, that does not mean you would have to befriend the boy who tutors you.”
“I liked you right when I met you, didn’t I? It’d be the same.” 
“You are awfully confident regarding the matter.”
“Yeah, mate. Think about it, we may be an unlikely duo, but against all odds, we met. We stayed together. And will stay together. We’d find each other in every universe, just like we had in this one.”
“...who is the one ‘overdoing it’ now?”
“Come off it, mate! But just think about it, we’d go to uni together, you’d study– English or, or Law, you’d make a great lawyer, you know, and I– I don’t know, I’d study something too, and we’d live together.”
“Would we start a detective agency together as well?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Alive Boy Detectives does not have the same ring to it. Neither does Alive Men Detectives.”
“We’d figure something out.”
477 notes · View notes
ateliersss · 8 months ago
Text
Blooming Family Part 4 - He Shall Prevail
Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: In your past life on earth, when someone would ask you how you managed your job as a nurse with the occasional death of a mother during birth, you told them that you never took it too personal because you would never find yourself in their position. Then why were you now so adamant on giving your life for your pup? Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 5,497 Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Masterlist
⇨ Hey, guys! I‘m back to writing. 6 months and 16 exams later, I finally found time to continue my now called “Blooming Family” series. You have no idea how much I missed it.
⇨ Though I have to say, this will probably be the end of this series. Probably. I got rid of every idea about our little family in those four parts and I don’t believe I can offer much more dramatic and exciting plot.
⇨ BUT! I already announced a Prequel on how Mi'ytiar and the Reader meet. I’m still working on it and the process is going smoothly for now. This means, this is definitely not the end of our story, so stay tuned!
⇨ Want to join the tag list?
Tumblr media
 
The metallic smell of human blood that usually made him wallow in delight, now made him feel sick. The feeling of human blood on his skin, which usually sent a rush of excitement down his spine, now made him want to cut off any part of his body that made contact with it. The sight of him tearing a human apart — hurting it, killing it — that usually sated his predatory nature, now made him want to gouge his eyes out.
Blood flowed as he cut you, his beloved one, open under Cahrein's watchful eyes. The red fluid coated first his claws and fingertips, then his fingers completely, and before he knew it his whole hand when he started to reach into you.
Your small, beautiful body, which he had worshipped more times than he could count, had long grown numb, unmoving, lifeless. Your big, gorgeous eyes that had held so much love for him were closed, sparing him to witness the moment should the spark within them extinguish.
He wouldn't let that happen, he was sure of it. He just needed time to close the long, precise cut and get the blood that was stashed somewhere here on the ship. He knew how to stitch you together, God knows how many times he had to do it when you were on your hunting trips together, though it was never this kind of wound.
But Mi'ytiar, your oh-so-loving and attentive mate, had done something quite unusual for his species.
With no profound knowledge of births, let alone human births, he witnessed the act of giving life for the very first time when you had been pregnant with Akail. Even without any previous experience, he just knew that Yautja births were quite different from human ones. Their Females wouldn't have suffered that much from pain during labor and because of that, his already devoting stance towards you seemed to reach new heights when you fought like a warrior on your very own battlefield. He was impressed just as he was scared.
So, when Cahrein had confirmed your suspicions on being pregnant again, Mi'ytiar did what every father on earth would and should do when a baby was on its way: he prepared himself. Mostly, Cahrein showed and taught him the necessities who had studied the human anatomy when you arrived on Yautja Prime for the first time — leader's orders. And because there had never been a human in their clan or anywhere near it, he had to travel some time to the nearest one whose location he knew.
That's how Cahrein learned and that's how he was able to brief his clan leader.
You didn't know, but if you did, you once again would not fathom how lucky you were because how many Yautja out there with a human by their side for whatever purpose would put that much effort into them? Would any of them sit down and listen to their healer drone about the function of the ovaries? Would any of them waste their time instead of just finding a replacement? Would they be here when the chance of saving you was like catching mist with bare hands?
Mi'ytiar did, a leader nonetheless.
And when he felt it wasn't enough, he did his very own research on earth. Stalking through hospitals, invisible of course, thanks to the Cloak camouflaging his massive form and hiding him from the human eye, he was taking everything in. He observed the humans dressed in white and dark blue clothes scurry around before he decided to follow one around.
At nighttime, it was much easier when the staff thinned out. This way he had a better chance to explore the hospital and find his way to the infant ward, discovering it by chance. Fourteen see-through cribs were standing in two rows inside the ward. Fourteen tiny human babies were lying inside, sound asleep.
So that's what they looked like.
For a moment, he thought about being human himself. Not for his own appearance but for the possibility of having a pup who looked more like you, his love. You were such a beautiful creature, but sadly, your genes were practically drowned out by his.
In the daytime, he was lucky to watch five women deliver their babies. Four of them did it the natural way while the fifth woman decided willing to do a c-section. Obviously unaware of what would happen in a few years, he gained very useful knowledge that day.
That's how Mi'ytiar learned and that's how he located the pup in your womb so quickly and pulled it out.
He tried not to let himself get lost in the sight of the newborn, squirming and screeching. As much as he wanted to admire the little boy, another paragon created by you, there was a more pressing matter at hand.
He gingerly placed the flailing pup down on the cold glass surface of the table and against your body, snuggled between your motionless arm and your side. With the greatest care, he angled his son's head to rest against your shoulder and moved your arm so it would keep him in place.
Mi'ytiar wasted no time in turning the Medicomp upside down and finding the needed surgical tools much faster that way. Thankfully he hadn't discovered anything wrong once the pup was free, no suspicious rupture or tear that needed stitching. He was deaf to Cahrein's words as he fixed the cut with wound clamps and started to mix a gel that was able to close a wound of any kind, size or depth.
When he was sure the gel was painstakingly spread on the already healing cut, he grabbed the syringe with the purple-ish fluid and inserted its needle in the crook of your unoccupied arm. There was a 50-50 chance that it would work on you. Sxánxik would close all internal damage and increase blood cell production in case of severe blood loss, though he didn't know if it would work on human blood. But there was still a chance since your DNA had evolved through years of infusions of Yautja blood.
"You should get her blood." Cahrein's voice finally found its way into his consciousness.
"Can't leave." Mi'ytiar growled, his eyes focused on the shallow movement of your chest, scared it would stop the second they would stray from you.
"You need to. There is no guarantee sxánxik works." Cahrein pressed, growing restless at his leader's tunnel vision.
He knew he didn't know what was going through Mi'ytiar's mind, and if he said he knew how he was feeling at that moment, he would be lying. It was obvious to anyone who had ever laid eyes on the Life-mated pair that there was a unique and special bond between the two of you. Yautja were caring despite common belief, but even the most affectionate and compassionate of their species would never come close to the emotions your human heart held for your Yautja. Adding the influence you had on Mi'ytiar, it seemed to be fated.
Soulmates, Cahrein believed you had called the both of you when you told him about certain fairytales your mother had read to you when you were a child. Though you had said it in a joking way, telling him it was something hopeless romantics believed in, he could see it in your eyes that there was some kind of hope there.
"Sometimes two people are destined for each other."
Your human nonsense would always make him scoff in amusement until there was living and breathing proof of you being meant for his leader. Two proofs now, to be exact. When you were able to give Mi'ytiar his long-denied offspring where their Females had failed, Cahrein started to be less derogatory about superstitions on earth.
"Fine." Mi'ytiar snarled, hitting the glass surface of the holo-map table on each side of your thighs with closed fists, only hearing a splintering sound as he pushed himself away.
When he returned, the overwhelming sight of your body made him freeze in the doorway when the automatic doors opened. He tried not to tighten his grip around the blood bag in his hand, tried not to let his claws pierce holes into it and spill the red liquid.
You were lying there, paler than you had been moments ago. Where he had positioned your arm so your pup was safely tucked at your side, the other one was lying along the length of your body. Just as your spread legs were dangling down the table, your hand was loosely hanging down where it had previously been grasping the edge in pain.
"Mi'ytiar."
Cahrein's voice was once again pulling him out of his own head before he could drown in dark thoughts.
"I prepare your home for your return." The healer told him when Mi'ytiar covered your naked lower body with one of your blankets that you always kept on the ship.
When Cahrein received no response from his leader, who was too busy getting the blood into your veins before filling syringes with his own to inject it into you, he made the usual farewell gesture and his holo-image dissolved.
As soon as Mi'ytiar could assess you as stable, he took his newborn — he was so tiny, Mi'ytiar was able to hold him with one hand as he fit so easily in his entire palm — and placed him in the crook of his arm, the upper body of his son pressed against his bicep. The typical instinct of a Yautja pup to hold on made his son immediately cling to him.
With a heavy heart at leaving you alone once again, he went through the ship to take the pup to its sleeping place in the sleeping quarters. Digging out more of the cushions and covers you had stashed away, he created a makeshift crib so his son wouldn't move in a fatal position or roll out of the pod by accident. When he was sure he could leave him alone for a moment, he put the pup down and returned to you.
You were still in the same unconscious state he had left you. With a pained, sorrowful purr he lifted you up and into his arms, the almost empty blood bag held up by his hand. The sight of you like this was hurting him more than any wound he ever got from an enemy.
Back in the sleeping quarters, Mi'ytiar put you down in the pod where the two of you would usually rest. And where the little one was probably conceived, he thought with his eyes looking over at the pup.
Since the ship was not equipped with the necessary medical supplies and equipment, he had to make do with what was available to him. All he could do now was let you sleep and heal. Should the sxánxik not do its job, his blood would do.
To distract himself — because looking down at the device around his left arm, the journey back home would take another hour — he picked his newborn pup up and started to rock him softly. He remembered your reaction when you had seen him do it for the first time with Akail, scolding him for hurling the pup around. Your words.
Trying not to let his amusement show too much on his face, he had explained to you that Yautja babies, even when they were mere minutes old, were quite sturdy. They could endure more than you would think and you had learned that in the following five years. To put it simply, Akail had been a menace when he wasn't a complete mama's boy. He had wanted to explore; first your home, then the clan grounds, and then the whole planet.
Mi'ytiar let out a chuckle-like rumble at the memory of an eager Akail running around, dodging his mother's arms that tried to keep him inside your home and from running around in the village. He had watched you both with mirth in his eyes but regretted it the second a grumbling laugh left his mouth. If it had been possible, he would have dropped dead when you glared at him with a very nasty look. Wincing inwardly, he pulled his figurative tail between his legs and came to your aid, grabbing Akail by the nape and lifting him up. Then you had looked at your son with an I'm-very-disappointed-in-you expression on your face and this time it was the pup that winced (Mi'ytiar almost too if he was being honest).
Like father, like son.
This one will be just as in love with his mother as his father and older brother were, he was sure of it.
Warm, soft and bright.
Those were the things you noticed first, even with your eyes closed.
The next thing your brain registered was that you could move every part of your body, although a little sluggish when you wiggled your toes and clenched and unclenched your hands. You were relieved that whatever happened to you hadn't paralyzed you.
Blinking, you opened your eyes and with a blurry vision, the very first thing you saw was a familiar but somehow unfamiliar metal pole that looked like an IV stand.
But that couldn't be. You should be the only human thing on Yautja Prime, so why…
"You awake."
You slowly turned your head in the direction of the voice. You could only make out a dark, tall figure standing in the doorway, though not tall enough to be your mate.
"Cahrein?" You murmured.
"Mhm."
Said Yaujta entered the room to inspect the stand, tapping the bag with a clear substance inside. He traced the tube attached to it with a sharp claw to the point where it was connected to the needle in your arm. 
"Fascinating, I must say."
"What is this? Why is it here?" You asked and tried to get up, hoping the fatigue would wear off faster in an upright position.
With a deep rumble and a clicking of his mandibles, Cahrein gently pushed you back down. "The great Mi'ytiar always made sure you had everything you need should medical emergency arise."
"He did?"
Cahrein nodded with his head. "He traveled to ooman world to get whatever you need every time oomans developed their creations."
You looked at the healer who now inspected the red bag filled with your blood.
When you started to be more involved in the life of the Yautja, the possibility of getting hurt grew. It wasn't likely, as your mate never let you do anything that could cause even a bruise. Well, except, of course, mating with him. 
When your already drawn blood expired, you would go to Cahrein so he could take new one for emergencies while you sat in Mi'ytiar's lap, his purring and his hands caressing you, calming you down. Despite being a former nurse you hated needles.
"How..." You coughed, your voice hoarse from not being used. "How long was I… asleep?"
"Six days."
"That long?" You whispered to yourself in disbelief.
You settled back into the soft cushions of your nest, watching the healer adjust the blood bag as if there was the perfect angle for it to hang. Ever the perfectionist. 
You carefully lifted the arm with the needle inside while you grabbed a black woolen blanket to pull it over your body, somehow feeling cold despite the fire burning. 
Doing so, you dragged your heavy-feeling arm over your stomach.
Your flat stomach.
You jumped up from your lying position, ignoring the stabbing headache. 
Cahrein turned around, only needing to take one big step to be by your side, and was ready to scold you for going against your doctor's orders, but his words were dying on his tongue when you ripped the piece of clothing you were wearing open. Immediately, he averted his eyes and turned his back to you. 
You may be his patient right now, but he had no death wish. Sure, he had seen parts of you in his role as the healer, but only with permission and in attendance of your mate. And said mate definitely didn't need to be in the room to witness his human being exposed in front of someone who wasn't him to instill that deep-rooting respect (and maybe even slight fear) in Cahrein. 
You were oblivious to the internal battle of Cahrein who was fighting against the urge to make sure you weren't overexerting yourself and the fact that he couldn't do so without having to look at you. Instead, you were frantically tracing the faint scar across your stomach with shaky hands.
Baby…
Where was your baby?
Where was it?!
The maternal instincts were almost animalistic as they made you heave, your lungs starting to struggle to take in air.
It had been here, inside your belly, carried under your heart…
Why wasn't it here?
It should be… it should be…
Cahrein was really tempted to turn around when he listened to your breath getting more and more irritated and uneven. When he heard suspicious rustling, he spun around and grabbed the nearest cover to put it on you — the blanket you had wanted to snuggle into. 
"Calm, (Y/N), calm." He purred as he pushed you back onto the nest when you tried to crawl out of it. 
"My pup, my pup. Where is my pup?" You squeaked.
You were digging your nails into his skin, scratching it without leaving much damage. You weren't really a challenge to him. You were still weak from the blood loss and the week of bed rest. Had it been a female Yautja, Cahrein would have probably been dead by now. They were just as territorial and protective of their pups as you were right now.
"He is fine. He is with his father." He soothed you and tried to push you onto your back and into the nest. "I will call for him."
Still shaking, you ceased your resistance a little, allowing Cahrein to let go of you. Despite everything screaming inside of you to fight your way to your pup, your body in its state wouldn't even make it out of the room. So you settled down but kept your nerves on edge.
You were taking deep breaths in and out as you strained every muscle to prop yourself up into a sitting position, your legs tangled and angled to the side.
Tugging on the soft fabric of the blanket draped over you, you looked around the room. It was just like you remembered — all four walls made of smooth obsidian-like stone, the large window from the floor up to the ceiling behind your nest giving you the perfect view of the jungle-like valley beneath you by the cliff where the village was located on, the build-in shelves that mostly displayed your mate's most valued trophies, but also some of your possessions from your old home on earth like your books and your favorite pot plant, the futuristic wardrobe Mi'ytiar had made for you when he kept gifting you fabrics, feathers, fur, leather and such so you could make yourself clothes with the help of the Females.
It was home.
As your eyes swept over the room from left to right, they stopped when they spotted the small, wooden crib next to the nest. It had been Akail's when he was a newborn pup. It was lovingly and thoughtfully crafted by Mi'ytiar, while you had carved accents, patterns, and little figures into it.
Sure, Yautja Females had their own, traditional way of taking care of their pups, but you were human and your baby was partly human, so you wanted at least a little human influence in raising it. It's the only way you knew and were able to do it. Mi'tyiar let you take the reins since he had no prior knowledge himself. He was a first-time father and would just follow your instructions when you needed assistance. 
That led to you unknowingly breaking a custom. Usually, at this age, the Female was raising the pup alone. The Male was barely involved during that time and would only take over when it was time for the pup to train as a Youngblood. 
Mi'ytiar, on the other hand, the ever-loving father, was there by your side for every one of Akail's wobbly steps, incoherent mumble and mandible click. If he was human, you fondly mused, he would be that kind of a parent who would take photos and videos of even the most random event and unnecessary thing their baby did.
He was such a fierce and strong leader, callous and ruthless when the situation required it, a brutish savage if he was challenged, but when it came to his little family he was so soft and gentle like any human father or husband.
While you were spacing out, resisting the urge to reach over to the crib and check if the bedding was still warm, signs of a little life sleeping in it, you didn't notice the newcomers in your room.
"Yawne..." A voice sounded far away before you started blinking, refocusing yourself.
Your eyes snapped to the now much larger form standing in the entrance of the room holding a small, wiggling bundle in his arms, cradling it to his chest. His yellow eyes were solely on you, looking at you in disbelief as if he thought they were deceiving him. 
Mi'ytiar pushed the bundle in his arms into those of Cahrein, who you barely registered walking in behind your mate, and made his way over to you in a few quick strides. Your eyes were fixed onto the thing your whole being was screaming for the most, but when Mi'ytiar cupped your cheeks with both of his hands, your whole attention was on him — your mate, the love of your life, your sun and your moon.
"Tahní." You breathed and put your hands on his, craving his warm skin closer to you.
He moved forward and gently put his forehead to yours, purring loudly into the otherwise silent room. 
"I thought I lose you. I thought you die. Again." He grumbled, his eyes closed.
You lifted your head and placed a few kisses on the skin of his forehead. 
"I'm a fighter. I thought you knew that by now." You chuckled, your voice hoarse.
Mi'ytiar grumbled again, not appreciating you making jokes when you had been on the brink of life and death.
"What happened?" You asked and pulled away to finally look at him. 
Mi'ytiar — and you really had no nicer word to describe it — looked horrible. If Yautja were able to develop bags under their eyes, he definitely would have some. He looked beyond tired. There was a devastated but also relieved look in his eyes, you had no problem deciphering the reason behind it. 
"I only remember how my water broke… how you carried me back to the ship… and the call with Cahrein." You mumbled as you tried to recall any memory you had stored in the back of your mind.
It was all blurry and tangled and you had no idea what happened when. The only thing you remembered with conviction was the pain. When the contractions started in that forest, it was far more manageable than the pain at Akail's birth. But when the labor was taking longer than it was normal, it got almost unbearable.
"What happened? How did he…" You trailed off as you glanced past Mi'ytiar and to Cahrein who was rocking the whiny bundle in his arm to calm it down.
"Mi'ytiar, please." You begged as you looked back at him, pleading with your eyes. "Please give him to me. I need to… I need to…"
The distress your body was emitting almost made him shrink away. 
"Cahrein." Mi'ytiar grunted and reached out.
Cahrein, who was struggling a little with the fussing pup in his care, was careful not to accidentally drop it as he made his way over to his leader. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel at least some relief when the restless pup left his arms. The last thing he wanted to do was send you further down a spiral of frantic worry about your baby. He had seen enough Females going rogue for lesser reasons and experience showed to never stand between a mother and their pup. It was the last mistake you would make.
Mi'ytiar purred softly at the bundle before he turned back to you and offered it for you to take it. You eagerly engulfed it in your arms and the second you had a hold on it, the fussing pup settled down.
"Leave." Mi'ytiar ordered gruffly when you started to push down the only cover your body had, not taking his eyes off his son and his mate.
Cahrein bowed his head and quickly took his leave. He would talk about anything medical and the further necessary bed rest another time.
You didn't notice him leaving, too busy freeing your newborn son of the baby blanket that was practically drowning him.
You had knitted it when you were six months pregnant with Akail. He had been obsessed with it as long as he was a tiny pup.
Back when you were a nurse, some mothers had excitedly told you about all the preparations they had done before the baby was due. One of them had brought wool, knitting needles, and a half-finished blanket to her appointments. She had explained to you how she learned knitting only for her baby, so she could make all this stuff for it.
It was a sweet memory.
Mi'ytiar, of course, went on a trip back to earth and got you anything and everything you wanted and needed, even more than you originally needed, in hopes his offerings would please you. And you hadn't even needed to use much persuasion. Looking up at him with those big eyes of yours while rubbing the prominent baby bump was enough to prepare a ship and fly to your home planet the next day.
Sweet, sweet memories.
You were humming as Mi'ytiar crawled on the nest behind you, setting the blanket you had shrugged off to the side and pulling you on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and watched over your shoulder as you cradled your pup against your bare chest. You sighed in contentment when you could feel your son's skin against your own like it was the final thing you needed to reassure you that you were actually here, that he was real.
Without the baby blanket covering him, you finally got a good look at your son. And god, you didn't know you could fall in love a third time in your life.
He was perfect.
Unlike his big brother, he was the carbon copy of his father. While Akail did look like his father, having the same color scheme as him, the patterns were of opposite colors. His younger brother, on the other hand, didn't only have the same color pallet as his father, but the patterns of his skin were colored just the same as Mi'ytiar's. Otherwise, he didn't look much different from Akail when he had been a newborn — the same numbs on his head where his dreads would grow, the same thin and undeveloped mandibles around his mouth, the same arms and legs.
He was about the size of a human baby. It was incredible to think how big in size and height he would grow in the coming years.
You inspected every aspect of his tiny body, your fingers gliding over his torso and limbs, admiring every centimeter of him.
"You were right." Mi'ytiar suddenly said. "He was in abnormal position. He was stuck."
You stilled for a moment before you continued to coo at your baby.
"You begged me to get him out and I did. I cut in you and you…" He trailed off and grunted at his wavering voice. "You stopped moving when I pulled pup out. You were gone."
"No." You interrupted him and turned your upper body to look at him. "If I was gone, I wouldn't be here with you. With him." You moved your arms with your turned torso so his son was back in his sight. "I wouldn't be here to tell you how happy I am, to tell you how glad I am that you handled it so well. You saved his life. And mine too."
You shifted your pup into one arm to reach up and place your hand on his cheek. You didn't even need to pull him in for him to move closer and put his forehead once again against yours, closing your eyes. Since his anatomy made it impossible to actually kiss him, you decided that forehead-against-forehead was an acceptable compensation. Although it wasn't anything special, it felt so intimate with him that you didn't really miss the ability to kiss your partner.
"I'm here. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere, Mi'ytiar." You told him softly, rubbing your skin against his like a cat. "Thanks to you I'm able to continue to breathe, to walk and talk. Thanks to you I'm able to continue to love you and live my life with you, my strong and handsome mate, and our pups."
You had so many other things to say to him, but you started to choke on your words. Tears were dripping down your cheeks.
You opened your eyes when you felt something rough rub the skin under them and saw him wiping away the tears with his thumb. His other hand came up and its thumb did the same with the tears coming from your other eye. Mi'ytiar looked fondly down at you, his head cocked to the side.
"Thank you so much." You mumbled, your voice a little shaky, and buried your face into his chest.
Mi'ytiar clicked his mandibles softly and carefully pulled you closer, making sure not to crush the pup between your bodies.
"Anything for you." He purred.
He felt the wetness dripping from your eyes to your cheeks and down on his chest ease after a while. And when you lifted your head to look up at him, you gave him one of those dazzling, soft smiles he loved so much.
Mi'ytiar wanted to reach out again, wanted to pull you closer and snuggle his face into the crook of your neck to smell your sweet, familiar scent he missed so much. But sadly a certain someone demanded your attention more loudly.
The pup in your arms started to fuss again, causing you to use both arms again to hold him tight against you. Shushing him, you nestled him in the crook of your neck and stroked his back.
Mi'ytiar let out a displeased grunt before he could stop himself, glaring at his son being in a place where he wanted to be just a moment ago.
You, of course, didn't miss your mate fixing the pup with a dismayed look and you immediately knew why. This wasn't your first baby, after all.
"Mi'ytiar, don't tell me you're jealous again." You grinned up at him, not even trying to hide your amusement.
"'M not." He grunted.
"You are."
"Not."
"Mhm." You hummed, unconvinced, raising an eyebrow. "Just as you were not jealous when Akail was occupying my boobs as a pillow for a year? Or when I tried breastfeeding with him? Or when he challenged you every time you came near me even though he had just learned to walk? Or when he-"
To silence you, he bit down into your throat and you immediately went slack. It was a somewhat trained reaction every time he would do that. Where a human would shut you up with a kiss, your mate bit you. A show of dominance, without a question, and you would lie if you said it didn't turn you on. The moan that would have proofed it had almost slipped from your lips.
"Not jealous." Mi'ytiar insisted gruffly and licked over the bite mark.
"Fine, fine." You mumbled, still a little dazed from his little display of power.
The two of you stayed silent for a while. The only sound was the occasional chittering and cooing of your son, who was looking up at his parents with his big, pale yellow eyes. They would grow more intense in color in no time.
"Did you already name him?" You asked and giggled when your pup tried to snatch up your finger with which you were drawing patterns in the air, moving it around in front of his face.
You watched as your pup finally caught your pointer finger and inserted it into his mouth. You laughed when you felt his gums chew on it. His teeth would develop only in a few weeks.
"The name you chose." Mi'ytiar grunted softly.
You hummed in understanding and snuggled your face into the side of your son's head.
"Hi, Toyah."
Tumblr media
Tag List
⇨ Hey guys, despite having only some requests to be tagged in this part, I wanted to tag any and everyone who ever left a comment on one or more parts of this series. I'm seriously so thankful, you have no idea. Thank you so much for showing interest and voicing it. Thank you so much for your kind words that kept me motivated to continue this story. But, as I said at the beginning, this is not the end of Mi'ytiar, so lets hope we see each other on more of my works in the future!
@lil-lilacwitch, @zaky-ller, @eternalmoonshineofahopelessfan, @haleypearce @montybooks,
@ailujsenutna, @rorrika, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @mahirublue, @00justanolive00,
@mortuaconjuga, @victor-rose, @screechingenemy18, @thewitchesofart, @skibbiescoober,
@pyreemo, @han-sirentell, @dd122004dd, @milkzze, @wildaces,
@serendipitous-fernweh, @misspendragonsworld, @bunnymysteriously, @ladygrimmx, @thelrina,
@quaritcxswifewh0re, @imaginarydreams, @vintage-bumblebee, @blaxkmagix, @beelievit,
@blmcd57110, @mythirdlife235, @the-artistic-devotee, @jojooasis, @pipocfamily,
@bimboreader, @noname2246, @sawendel, @being-worthy, @xcol2sblog,
@panpandeep00, @maxismp1, @bastet222, @candyladycry, @crowleysthings
828 notes · View notes
crheativity · 1 year ago
Note
Hello how have u been I was wondering if I can request a slightly part 2 of the reader making the overblot squad cute little plushies so wha if the reader makes the plushies clothing and accessories like for vil’s plushie little fake makeup and same clothing he has sorry if my English is bad I’m still learning
SUMMARY: You decide to make the Overblot Squad’s plushies clothes! How do they react?
WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!
COMMENTS: Oh my GOSH this is such a cute idea!! And no worries Anon, your English is just fine :D I hope you enjoy it!!
Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You made his plushie some… clothes? He didn’t even know you could remove her current ones! He would never think to try something so scandalous on his own! Especially not with a plushy of the Queen of Hearts!! Ah, wait- he meant no disrespect! He just meant that he wouldn’t- uh… He’s just gonna stop talking now.
You have to show him how to change his plushy’s clothes – he refuses to figure it out on his own in case someone walks in – but once you show him it’s not like that, he’s more comfortable with it. He doesn’t change things around a lot – maybe whenever you make him a new one. He keeps them all safely in a box under his bed. Occasionally, he’ll take them out just to look at. Seeing them always makes him smile.
Tumblr media
You decided to make the powerful, feared and mighty King of Beasts… a hat? And slippers? Hah, you got guts, Prefect. He’s gotta say, he respects it. Alright, he’ll indulge you. He’s slightly surprised at how small yet detailed the accessories are. There’s something slightly endearing about such small clothes… maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like children? Tch. He can’t relate.
Nonetheless, it’s amusing to him what kind of accessories you think of. He’s also not the type to change up the doll’s outfit a whole lot, but he’ll stash them all around his room. Much like the toy, they all smell of you. It’s starting to annoy the other Beastmen. Ruggie’s strongly considering having an intervention.
Tumblr media
Prefect… these are adorable! Are you sure you don’t want to sell these? Ah, r-right. Please forgive him for forgetting they were for-... for his eyes only. Please stop looking at him and let him regain his composure. He absolutely loves them! He hopes you know how much of a friend the doll has become to him. He’s starting to tear up, you’re so kind. Give him a minute.
Azul has designated different clothes for different purposes. Before bed, he puts his doll in her pajamas. When he wakes up, he selects her outfit for the day and changes her into it. He does this almost ritualistically every day. Floyd and Jade have teased him for it, but surprisingly, Azul doesn’t seem to mind.
Tumblr media
Oh? You made his Sorcerer of the Sands doll some different outfits? Pft– that’s so cute. He didn’t mean to laugh at you – he’s delighted, really! He just… can’t believe that you’d spend precious free time doing something like that. Hey, come on, he’s not judging you or anything, but free time is precious, right? You should spend it more on doing what you want to do. Still, though, he loves the clothes - and finds your cute little pout adorable. 
He definitely keeps them with the doll. Whenever you make him new ones, he’ll pick up the doll and change the outfit. Otherwise, he’ll only change them a couple times every so often. This has given him an idea though. Maybe you’d like a doll too? Then you could match. Although, Ramshackle dorm doesn’t really have a mascot… maybe he could make you a ghost? Or a plushie of Grim? 
(Didn’t he say that spending ‘precious free time’ doing something like ‘that’ was wasted? Point it out to him and he’ll get flustered and walk off in a huff. He will return with a plush and an apology for you two days later. He enjoyed making it a lot.)
Tumblr media
You made his doll clothes?! He’s trying not to squeal like a teenage girl. He didn’t know that his doll could change clothes!! Oh, prefect, he loves you so much. He’s going to ask you to make so many clothes, you better be prepared for what you’re getting into!
He, like Azul, changes the clothes all the time and will often just sit down for like an hour and change the doll into perfect outfits. As you could probably guess, Vil LOVES using the doll to try out new looks. Whenever he’s designing an outfit or a piece of clothing, he always asks you to make a small version for him to try out on the doll. This helps him to be able to practise styling them and getting an idea of how the finished piece would look. 
His favourite kind of outfit to ask for, however, is anything that reminds you of fashion from your homeworld.
Tumblr media
You made his marketable plushie some marketable clothes?? Oh my gosh. That’s adorable. It’s so small! Looks like those itty bitty cutey kitty clothes– AH– ahem. you didn’t hear that. He definitely wasn’t just having a total fanboy moment. no siree… do you think you could make him an outfit from his favourite anime? that’d be cool, he guesses.
He’s DEFINITELY gonna make the little guy cosplay his favourite characters. Maybe that’d improve his gacha roles even more? Oh he is 100% down to help too. Any clothes that require metallic details he is WELDING that stuff together. It’s so cute how invested he gets in this. Ortho loves seeing his brother get so passionate about this too!
Tumblr media
Malleus is DELIGHTED. He was not aware that his little friend could change outfits! How adorable! He loves you so much! He is this close to buying an actual, fully sized wardrobe just for them! …But Lilia talks him out of it. Actual, fully sized wardrobes take up a surprising amount of room. So, he ends up getting two, miniature wardrobes. Which fills about the same space. Lilia’s not sure his advice really worked.
Malleus will now dress up his dolls for tea parties, picnics, or whatever outings they decide to go on. He is constantly surprised and delighted by whatever you make him, although he’s not very good at suggesting ideas. One of the few ideas he came up with was fashionable about a hundred years ago and was a very complicated piece of clothing. However, when he received the outfit, he took great measure to ensure that no harm would ever come to it. 
Tumblr media
♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
1K notes · View notes
mirohlayo · 1 year ago
Text
F1 DRIVERS AND THINGS THEY
LOVE ABOUT YOU
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
including mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly
warning : mention of imperfections and insecurities
note : can't wait for the new f1 season because my sundays are so boring
!! english is not my first language !!
ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81
you free up time only for him. you're always busy with your essays and assignments which means you don't have much time to spend with your boyfriend. but still you always manage to free up some time just fort him. and he loves that, he feels confident knowing that he is the only one who is so special to you. of course he won't waste a single second of your time together, because he couldn't ask for anything better than spending time with his favorite girl in the world.
ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4
your cuddles. i swear this boy will cuddle you every chance he gets. he loves how your two bodies fit perfectly together in the arms of each other. he'll grab your waist and lay you on the bed, his body on top of you. he'll hold you tight and bury his face in the crook of your neck. you play with his curly hair, your hand gently stroking his back. he places some soft kisses on your neck and collarbones. and he delights in your warm embrace, which provides him so much comfort. like he's home.
ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16
the way you show to the whole world that he belongs to you. it's often subtle but you always try to give everyone a hint about your relationship with charles. to make sure the world knows he's yours. because he secretly loves when you do that. he genuinely feels loved and he loves thinking about the fact that there is only him in your heart.whether it's a matching jewelry or the faint trace of your lipstick on his cheek, he cherishes those little clues that show the world your deep love.
ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55
your eyes softening when you look at him. he notices it, the way you gaze at him, how you stare at him. but he has observed the way your eyes always soften when you look at him. some sparkles in them as you admire the love of your life. and he can't help but get lost in the beauty of your pupils. he stares into your eyes until he finds all the love you hide behind them. he feels special, and he always ends up flustered as his cheeks and face become all red. he turns into a blushing mess under your loving gaze.
ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 44
your imperfections and insecurities. gosh how much he loves your insecurities. lewis knows you don't like certain parts of your body and you can be insecure about your flaws. but he wants to show you how beautiful you are despite your imperfections, which he obviously doesn't agree with because you're literally the most prettiest person in this world. every single day he reminds you how perfect you are, and that no matter how insecurities you have he'll always cherises them.
ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63
the way you're just yourself with him. george genuinely adore when you let your true self shine when you're around him. you don't open up to people easily and you're not quite comfortable when you meet one another. but not with george. you trust him and he makes feel you so safe that's why you're not afraid to be you, and he loves so much that. it means so much more than you think, his heart overflows with love every time he is with you.
ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33
your kisses. as simple as it is, he simply loves your kisses. whether soft and sweet kisses or rougher and deeper, he loves every type of kisses. especially after a bad day or a bad race (though 2023 was a pretty good year for him anyway), a kiss from you is all he needs. it's never enough kisses for him, he always asks for one every single minutes and if he doesn't get it then you're sure he'll pout for the rest of the day. but your kisses brings so much comfort and he feels so loved every time.
ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3
your smile. how much he loves your smile it's insane. obviously you two are a perfect match. he's so funny and his sense of humor is the same as you, you two are like the funniest couple of the grid. but daniel uses his humor and jokes mostly for you, just to see your beautiful smile rises on your face. the way your eyes narrow with a few tears of laughter on the edge, the way your smile brightens up his whole day. he just needs to see your smile to feel better. and he wishes you'll never stop smiling because how you look perfect like that.
ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10
your little habits. one thing pierre loves about you is your habits. first in the start of your relationship, he didn't really know about your behavior and your little habits. but then he started to notice them : the way you bite your lips when you're concentrated, when you put the dishes away in a specific order because otherwise it stresses you out, your usual morning routine. he finds these things absolutely cute and he even started to appropriate them too. it shows his love for you.
650 notes · View notes
lendeah · 1 year ago
Text
Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight.
Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav
Summary:
Upon reaching the Last Light Inn, your party is informed about the room arrangements: you will have to share rooms in pairs. Fate has it that you find yourself paired with a particularly charming wizard. To add a twist, there's only one bed. or Gale and Tav relive the "there was only one bed" trope.
Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute.
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), thighs, frottage, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, touch starved Gale.
Note: This was going to be a prompt but it got out of hand. Anyway, a small gift for the Gale girlies (me, I am the Gale girlies). Also, not proofread and english isn't my first language, so be gentle!🫶🏻
Tumblr media
"You will have to share rooms in pairs" Yaheira had deadpanned. After our long journey, we finally reached the Last Light Inn. We were hoping for a comfortable bed and some privacy, but our hopes were crushed.
Yaheira didn't seem fazed by our reactions, her expression remaining stoic.
"After all the blood, sweat and tears we poured into saving you lot back there this is the beautiful appreciation we get in return?" Astarion exclaimed dramatically, his tone laced with sarcasm.
Yaheira's cold stare silenced him. "Many soldiers are residing here, sacrificing their own comfort for our cause. Four of them have given up their bedchambers for your stay. You should be grateful," she reprimanded sharply.
The creaky wooden floors and musty smell hinted at the age of the building, but it was a small price to pay for a warm bed and shelter from the danger of the shadows outside. The group stood in a huddle, debating their next move. Wyll's voice rang out confidently "I propose we stay at the camp like we have been doing.".
Karlach's response was immediate and determined: "What, and die in the shadows? No, thank you."
You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling about to faint from weariness. "Guys, we're all exhausted. We should just accept the offer and get some rest. We practically sleep on top of each other every other day anyway."
"Yeah, but not on the same bed." Shadowheart chimed, giving Lae'zel a sly side glance. "And how would we determine who sleeps with whom, anyway?"
Gale, the ever-practical one, interjected: "Perhaps we could employ a method of chance, such as drawing straws, in order to make a resolution?"
So that's how Gale and you end up entering the old dusty and messy bedroom from the last Light Inn. The single bed in the middle seems to be laughing at us.
Gale sighs. "I knew sharing rooms wasn't a good idea. I should just crawl under the bed." He scans the room, eyes coming to rest on the window, with the dark sky looming outside. "I could sleep out there too." He pauses. "The prospect of such a cozy rest is indeed quite alluring. The brisk gusts brushing against my face, as I gaze upwards towards the unobstructed expanse of the starry heavens. Delightful, wouldn't you agree?"
He moves to get out of the door, but you grab his arm, your voice pleading, tinged with desperation from the exhaustion. "Please, Gale, I know it's uncomfortable, but can we just please do this tonight and figure out a better plan tomorrow?"
He swallows, glancing down at your fingers wrapped around his arms. "I-I don't think you realize just how difficult it'll be for me. This bed's too small, and it's too close, and—I can't."
I look at him with my eyes narrowed "If you don't get on the bed in the next five minutes, I am going to use my maze on you. And let me tell you, it hurts"
He looks at me dumbfounded ."...You wouldn't?" You give him a pointed stare. Of course, you don't mean to hurt him, but you are too tired to fight or move for that matter.
He swallows, looking you up and down again. Then he nods and turns toward the bed. "Uh, fine. I guess I'll, uh, get on the bed. However, I cannot guarantee that any peculiar occurrences will not transpire. I mean, not that I expect anything weird to happen. Just, you know, putting it out there. Okay, I'll stop talking now."
Your roll your eyes fondly at his rambling. As Gale awkwardly settles onto the edge of the bed, you quickly change into your undergarments and crawl into the other side. The bed creaks under both of your weight, making Gale flinch. The space feels narrow, forcing you close together. There's barely an inch in between, and any movement sends you brushing up against him. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, a little toasty.
"The dimensions of this bed are rather diminutive," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling under the blanket, unable to make eye contact with you.
"Aren't you sharp" you whisper teasingly.
"It's... it's tiny! How do you expect two fully-grown individuals to successfully sleep in this thing?" He says in an exasperated whisper. It is small, though. Feels like I'm being wrapped in a blanket... Except the blanket is another person.
I sigh in exhasperation, "Gale I am trying to sleep for god's sake!"
Gale shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself as small as possible on the narrow bed. "I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber. I just...I can't get comfortable in such confined space."
You let out another sigh, feeling a little bad for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, but is it possible that we exchange our positions? I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I feel like I can't relax like this. I can sleep on the edge of the bed, and you can sleep in the middle."
You look at him, one second away from grabbing your maze for real. "Gale, there is no middle, every part of this damned bed is the edge!"
Gale, is still fidgeting on his side.
"This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath.
"I know," he responds quietly. "I'm sorry." He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling again. "It seems as though you are now stuck with me as your blanket," he says, turning his head in your direction. "I hope this arrangement does not cause any discomfort for you... I would not want to impede upon your sleep."
At that, you can’t help but smile fondly back at him "It could be worse," you remark softly. "I could be stuck with Halsin and his incessant snores."
"Halsin snores?" He blinks in genuine surprise. "I never would have guessed. Is it disruptive? Like a storm tearing through the night?"
You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't know, you sleep like a rock all night." Your words are playful, as you nudge him lightly with your elbow.
"I do not! I am an extremely light sleeper, in fact, the slightest noise can jolt me from my slumber. It's quite a remarkable feat, really." His brow furrows. "Wait, does this imply that you have observed me in my sleep?" He blurts out. He is now on his side too, both of us facing each other.
A soft chuckle escapes from your lips, banishing all thoughts of sleep. "Yeah," you remarked with a playful smile, "I must say, you look really cute when you're sleeping."
The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow on Gale's face, making your heart swell with affection. His tousled hair and big brown eyes look even softer in this ambience.
His mouth drops open, his eyebrows now shooting up to his hairline. "I do not look cute while I sleep!"
"So cute, with your cheeks all puffed," you say, reaching out to pinch his cheek playfully.
Gale's face flushes a bright red and he turns away, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"I—I'm not cute when I sleep," he whispers." I am powerful! A talented wizard, a master of magic. I do not need to be "cute". And I'm not!" But as he protests, you can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush and how his hair sticks up in all directions, making him look endearingly disheveled. You can't resist the temptation and reach over to tickle his middle. "Cutie!"
"I am not!" he protests, giggling as you tickle him. "Stop it! You're making me... gahahaha!" His laughter bubbles out of him despite his attempts to hold it in.
You laugh too, enjoying the sound of his laughter. "See? Cute."
"I'm not cute!" he gasps out between laughs. "I'm... hahaha... I'm powerful!" He tries to sit up, but you pin him down with your hand on his chest. "You are cute, Gale. And you're adorable when you laugh," you say, looking into his eyes. He looks at you, his cheeks still flushed with laughter and embarrassment. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other before Gale clears his throat and lays on his side again.
"Gale?" I call out softly, hoping to break the silence.
"Yes...?"His voice is barely audible.
Smirking mischievously, you decide to push his buttons a little more.
"You know, I have trouble falling asleep unless I'm cuddled up next to someone." you whisper
He flinches. It takes a moment for your request to fully register, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.
"...Are you serious? You want me to cuddle you?"
You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. "Usually it would be Shadowheart offering, but she's not here right now."
"You want—me, to wrap my arms around you, to..."
His eyes narrow. "Am I hearing you right? You're asking me, to hold you?"
You roll my eyes "Yes Gale, that is usually how cuddling works."
Gale looks at you, taken aback by your request. His face flushes with embarrassment as he considers your words. "Um...I-I'm not entirely certain if that would be a prudent course of action," he stammers out, looking away from you.
"Forget it," Frustration wells up inside of you and you let out a low grunt before turning away to face the opposite side of the room.
"Er- I mean, wait, that wasn't a rejection... " He scoots closer, careful not to touch you. You turn yourself, so you are looking at him again. He looks down at you with a nervous expression. "So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, encircle my arms around your form, you wouldn't object?"
For some reason, your heart skips a beat at the thought of his arms around you.
"Well," you respond playfully. "I would probably say something along the lines of 'thank you very much Gale, goodnight'."
He hesitates for a moment before finally inching closer, his arm hovering uncertainly in the air. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge and wraps his arm around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to actually cuddle you, but the warmth and comfort that radiate from him are welcome in the cold room. You nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear and inhaling the intoxicating combination of an old book's musty pages and his rich cologne, laced with a subtle hint of sweat. You wrap your arms tighter around his soft body, savoring the feeling of being held in his strong embrace.
"Thank you, Gale" you whisper, intertwining your fingers behind his back. "Goodnight."
As the exhaustion of your journey settles over you, you feel the familiar pull of sleep in your body. However, the moment is disturbed by the feeling of something hard poking your stomach. Your eyes snap open and meet Gale's, who stands there frozen with shock and embarrassment.
"I... I'm sorry," he stammers out, mortified. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just been so long and you are so close and..."
Your bodies are still pressend, and you try to make sense of everything. Finally, you laugh softly and pat his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Gale. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." you say reassuringly, though you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.
"But... but I didn't mean for this to happen," he repeats, still clearly flustered.
"It's natural," you say calmly, trying to put him at ease. "It happens sometimes when people get close like this."
Gale nods slowly, still looking a little uncertain. He shifts slightly so that the bulge isn't pressing against your body as much anymore. "Thank you for understanding," he says quietly. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him; there is something endearing about his vulnerability in this moment. You have an overwhelming urge to pull him close, to shield him from any harm and take care of him.
A twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience as you watch the flush rise in his cheeks, a direct result of your teasing. You chew on your lip for a moment before an idea strikes you. "Do you... want me to lend a hand?" You offer tentatively, gazing up at him with soft eyes and a gentle tone. His big brown orbs widen in surprise at your unexpected offer. You are also taken aback by your own words, but don't take them back.
He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can see the struggle in his expression as he tries to process what you just said.
"I mean, it's completely up to you," you quickly add, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "I just thought maybe it would help alleviate some of your... discomfort."
He takes a deep breath and looks away from you, clearly embarrassed. Gale hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart races at his acceptance. You were not expecting him to actually agree to your offer, but you are weirdly glad he did. "Okay," you repeat softly, moving your hand down to his waist and pulling him closer. You slowly reach down between both your bodies, gently taking hold of his erection through his pants. Gale gasps softly as your fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his breath hitch in anticipation as you start to move your hand up and down. As you gaze up at him, his arms still holding your body, a deep stirring awakens within you. The wizard before you, with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, is more attractive than you had ever realized. His tanned skin is like velvet against your fingertips, and his long hair falls over his face in gentle waves. Each reaction to your caress, every soft moan that escapes his lips, only adds fuel to the fire growing inside of you. Looking so eager for your touch.
Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. To your surprise, he responds enthusiastically, his hands moving to rest on your face as he pulls you closer to him. You deepen the kiss, your heart racing at the feeling of his warm lips against yours and the subtle tickle of his beard on your cheeks. As you continue to kiss, your hands never stops the gentle strokes on his erection. Gale's moans are becoming louder and more urgent. You can feel his need growing as he grinds against your hand, seeking more friction.
"L-let me touch you" he says between ragged breaths.
You smile at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the effect you're having.
"I have a better idea," you say softly, moving your hand away from his erection. You take off your panties, and move on your side in front of him again. Gale lets out a small gasp as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressed against your bare thighs.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice thick with both curiosity and lust.
A mischievous grin plays on your lips. "I'm going to give you something even better than my hand to relieve yourself," you purr, swaying your hips in demonstration in a slow, enticing rhythm, that elicits a delicious friction between his cock and the warm heat of your thighs and cunt.
You take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, letting him feel its softness and moaning quietly at the touch. Gale's eyes widen in surprise, gently squeezing it but with his eyes fixed on yours.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, reaching up to touch your face with his free hand.
"Thank you, so are you," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another tender kiss. He seems to find your praise very arousing, as his breathing quickens and he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your body. In response, you arch your back and press your chest against him, savoring the feel of his erection against your core and thighs.
"I want you so much," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long but I never- I didn’t think-“ he gasps at a particularly good thrust.
You're not sure how to answer, so instead you keep whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "You're an amazing kisser, Gale," you say, "you touch me so good..."
He moans in your mouth, gripping your hips harder as he keeps pounding erratically. Your hands move to his hair, pulling from the strands and eliciting a small whine from his throat. You can feel the hardness of his erection brushing against your wet folds with every movement, and it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You let out a moan into his lips as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing small circles that send sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Feeling his arousal growing even more, you know he won't last much longer, so you move your hips in a faster rhythm, grinding against his cock with more urgency.
Gale lets out a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he matches your movements. The friction between your bodies is almost unbearable, but in the most delicious way possible. As you continue to move together, your breaths growing heavier and more ragged, you can feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm building within you too. Gale seems to be close as well, as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your thighs, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You can hear the slap of skin and the squelching sound of your now wet thighs.
"Oh, gods," he gasps out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna..."
His body suddenly tenses up as he comes undone, his hips bucking wildly as he spills himself into the soft skin. For several moments, Gale lies there panting and gasping for breath.
"Oh, gods," he gasps out. "That was...amazing."
You lean and press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling at him as you do.
"I'm glad it brought you pleasure," you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair.
Suddenly, his skilled fingers find their way back to your core. He seems to sense that you didn't reach climax with him earlier and now he's determined to make sure you do. His touch is intense as he circles and rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a moan, arching your back and grinding against his hand. He watches you with intense desire in his eyes as he continues to pleasure you.
"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "I am not going to be able to forget this."
His words only fuel your desire even more, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride the waves of pleasure, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.
"I want to make you feel good," Gale says breathlessly, kissing along your neck and collarbone. "Tell me what feels good."
You guide his hand lower, signaling for him to enter you with his fingers. He complies eagerly, sliding two fingers inside of you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot. You cry out in pleasure, your walls clenching around him. You know you are not going to last long, still sensitive from the previous ministrations.
"Thank the heavens and hells," Gale groans, looking at me like I am a work of art. Setting a steady pace with his fingers, he kisses down your chest and takes one nipple into his mouth. The combination of sensations has you teetering on the edge once again.
"I-I'm close," you manage to say between gasps.
"Come for me," Gale whispers against your skin, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.
With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue against your hardened nipple, you come undone in a powerful climax that leaves you panting and shaking in Gale's arms. He holds onto you tightly as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.
"That was incredible," he murmurs against your skin as he peppers kisses all over your face.
"Yes it was," you reply dreamily, still basking in the afterglow.
Gale pulls out from between your thighs and settles down next to you, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As you press your body closer to his, you feel a subtle shift, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Instead of voicing it out loud, you turn to him and whisper,
"Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight"
570 notes · View notes
monzamash · 2 years ago
Note
I just read itch and have been thinking of this. I do not know if your request are open but a blurb of you and Charles after sex in bed and Charles is watching you call every gym related, workout shop in Monaco to find a bench after the one in his gym broke
loved this so much that it inspired a little blurb x
parlez-vous français? (sequel to itch) charles leclerc x you (femreader) | 960 words 18+, minors dni
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The workout afternoon delight that had you and Charles panting and sending echoed moans through an otherwise silent house had required a change in location after one too many “deadlifts”. Maybe the bench press wasn’t up to the challenge but you took the risk, knowing the consequences and it was an accident, of course, one waiting to happen according to the man brushing his warm fingertips down your spine; the unspoken promise you made hanging in the thick air.
“So,” He drawled, smug smile lacing every syllable.
“When will you replace my bench press, huh?”
A grumble fell from your lips at his leading question, head buried in a pillow and still coming down from the high that had sent your mind, body and spirit into orbit. Your tired eyes caught his glimmering with humour, tickled that you were now responsible for buying him a new bench, in Monte Carlo no less.
“But my French is so bad…”
Charles’ soft laugh sifted through your ears, his giggle showing his hand and now you knew that this was his plan all along. He was the reason it broke, not you. He was the one who insisted on fucking you faster, harder, deeper until your legs were shaking and he had the neighbours downstairs questioning whether there was an earthquake warning for the city. He had you on all fours, rocking back on his dick like your life depended on it, loosening you and apparently every screw on the frame below. Screaming out for mercy.
And now he has the audacity to look at you with those mischievous blue eyes that had gotten you both in trouble more times than you could count, thrilled that you would have to fumble your way through a phone call for him. Ah, the irony.
“I’ll help you do it. Here,” Charles held out his phone to you, number already there for your convenience and you sighed, relieved that wouldn't have to embarrass yourself.
“Merci,” You flirted, taking a moment to appreciate how beautiful he looked post-sex, eyes still hazy from the afterglow when he leaned down and pressed his swollen lips to your bare shoulder.
The line rang for a couple of nervous seconds, until a man with a thick French accent answered. “Oh, uh, hello! I mean – bonjour!”
Fuck, you already felt way out of your depth.
“Um, I am wondering if you have –“
“Pas d’anglais.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion – you’d heard that phrase before but you couldn’t quite remember why or where so you turned to Charles, who watching you intently, eyes already glowing with elation as you pressed the phone to your sheet covered chest. You could feel the blush slowly creeping up, all the way from your toes.
“What does pas d’anglais mean?” You asked, hushed voice and panicked.
Charles’ smile slipped into a smirk, “It means no English.”
“Oh, then you really need to take over,” You said so matter-of-factly that you didn’t even think twice before shoving the phone into his own naked chest.
But what you didn’t expect was a tutting from your usually sweet, saviour-complexed boyfriend and the phone to be pushed back towards you, head shaking and a smile the size of the moon looking back at you.
“Absolutely not. You promised, so try your best,” Charles encouraged, knowing full well that there was no way you could bluff your way through this one. Not a chance.
“I hate you.”
The growl in your voice made Charles laugh into his palm as you nervously brought the phone back up to your ear, heart racing and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.
“être désolé, um, do you – uh, vendez-vous… du materiel…”
You were genuinely trying and blindly casting your mind back to all of the French language-learning audiobooks you had listened to when you first started dating Charles; but time and life always seemed to get in the way of you actually learning or retaining any French at all and you weren't proud of that.
“How do you say gym equipment?” You quietly asked in Charles direction, completely frazzled before noticing that he had picked up a book and was pretending to be immersed in the worn out pages.
That was until you slapped his bicep and grappled at his face, “Help me!” You scolded above a whisper, grasping his cheeks and begging him to come to your rescue like he said he would.
When you angled his chin up to yours, he could see the fear in your eyes; cheeks flushed the same colour as they were merely moments ago, mind reliving how sweet you looked making him come.
How could he be so cruel?
Charles placed his book down and reached up for the phone, quickly rambling off a string of sentences before hanging up. You were dumbfounded and a little short of breath and he couldn't help but giggle when he looked back to you, fuming. He loved the way your forehead creased whenever you were mad, especially at him and the pout on your soft pink lips were tempting him to lean down and kiss them. But right now, as you stared him down, he knew he needed to do some damage control before trying to smooth it over with a kiss.
“Andrea has tried to give me his old one for months now so I was not worried about breaking it, really. I was just teasing,” He explained warily while brushing your hair back from your face.
And trying his hardest not to laugh at how adorable you looked.
“être désolé, mon chéri,” He added with a sweet smile, “You did try and what you did say sounded very good…”
You huffed out a defeated laugh, still feeling a little silly that you couldn't even get through a simple phone call. In truth, it was the wake up call you needed, even if it meant enduring his cruel prank.
“You really need to give me lessons if I’m going to stay here with you. Like, I need bootcamp style French lessons, baby…”
Charles chuckled and gave you a reassuring nod as he slowly leaned forward and sweetly captured your pouting lips, "We can start right now…”
The deep timbre in his voice sent a shivers dancing down your spine as you reached up and cupped his stubbled cheeks in your hands; his lips grazed the shell of your ear and whispered, “J’ai envie de toi.”
A pleasured hum tumbled out while you memorised the trail Charles was leaving down your already reddened neck, mouthing at the marks he had left earlier. It was pure bliss exchanged in soft moans as he guided you onto the soft sheet below, the promise of his words ringing in your ears as your hazy mind translated, I want you.
1K notes · View notes
flowerandblood · 9 months ago
Text
The Fall from the Heavens (29)
[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]
Tumblr media
[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
She was awakened by the touch of his hand − his fingers combed lazily through her hair making a pleasant, hot sensation ripple through her stomach. Although she knew he always got up earlier than her, this time he stayed in bed, her body, for some reason she didn't understand, snuggled into his chest.
She felt a pinch in her heart at the thought that some part of her wanted to move away from him and another part of her just wanted him to carry on, so she decided not to open her eyes, pretending she was still asleep.
She felt him looking at her − his lips once in a while placed a soft, warm kiss on the top of her head, from which she felt a pleasant sensation in her heart.
She felt like begging him to stay in bed with her all day, to make love to her, but she knew she couldn't to this.
She didn't want him to think that what he had done, what he had hidden from her, she could forget and forgive with such ease.
"− if that's your wish, we can stay like this all day −" He whispered softly, running his fingertips over her bare neck, making her shiver.
She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he knew her so well, that he was perfectly capable of recognizing that she was awake, that she was faking it. She opened her eyes and rose without a word, his arm immediately placed around her waist, trying to stop her.
"− my love −"
"− you promised me −"
She heard him let out a quiet breath and let her go, resigned, sinking back onto the sheets, burying his face in his hands. She got out of bed and called for her maidservant, feeling that if she did not disperse her thoughts she would cry again.
They ate their morning meal in silence and although she saw that he looked at her once in a while, she did not reciprocate the gaze.
"− has he tried to touch you before? − your brother-cunt, I mean −" He added mischievously, but pressed his lips together when she threw him a tired look full of disapproval.
"− no − I've already explained it to you − the grief and humiliation took his mind away −"
"− he was always mocking you to please Aegon − Baela must be delighted with how faithful he is −" He said with amusement mixed with mockery, turning his head away.
"− apparently we are both fortunate in terms of faithful men − don't you think so, husband? −" She asked him coldly; he gave her a quick, horrified look and swallowed hard, knowing full well what she was implying.
"− I have never betrayed you − not in this way −"
"− and a woman in a brothel? −" She asked matter-of-factly, thinking with surprise that she felt nothing when she said those words. She saw that he turned pale at the mere mention and furrowed his brow.
"− I've already said it − it didn't come to anything − it was not my desire to sink between the thighs of a whore that hundreds of men already had, but Aegon wouldn't listen to me −" He muttered, clearly embarrassed and irritated that she had brought up the subject again.
"− what happened there? −"
Her uncle closed his eye and hid his face in his hand, clearly losing patience.
"− why do you want to discuss it now? −"
"− I thought you wanted to be honest with me, uncle − as I can see, nothing has changed −" She said dispassionately, rising from her seat, heading towards the door. She heard him draw in a loud breath and move restlessly in his chair.
"− I − fuck − she told me − she told me that Aegon paid her for my fulfilment − I didn't want − I didn't want to lie with her, so she just put her hand in my breeches −" He muttered, stammering. She looked over her shoulder at him − his head was dropped in shame, his jaw clenched, his lower lip quivering.
"− did you wish for this? −" She asked.
She saw that he swallowed hard, looking dully at his plate.
"− …no −" He whispered.
Something in the way he looked, in that confession made her feel a need to comfort him.
He threw her a surprised, horrified look, tense as she turned back and approached him slowly. He stared at her from below, unsure of what she was trying to do − her hand sunk into his hair, pressing his face into her stomach.
She pressed her lips together as his hands tentatively clenched on the material of her gown, his nose snuggling into her flesh as if seeking refuge.
"− I was afraid that she would have told Aegon if I − that the whole of King's Landing −" He muttered in a breaking voice, as if only now did he truly understand what had happened then.
"− shhh −" She hushed him, stroking his hair tenderly and calmly, recognising that despite her anger and grief, he deserved her to show him her understanding on the matter.
She didn't want to reject him, she just wanted him to understand his mistakes.
"− are you disgusted with me? −" He asked in a trembling voice, to which she responded with a quiet, tired sigh.
"− no − it is the woman who disgusts me − what would you think of me if I told you that when I was so young, a grown man touched me between my thighs despite my pleas? − would you have been disgusted with me? −" She asked quietly; she heard him swallow hard at the thought, his fingers digging harder into the fabric of her gown.
"− I would have killed him with my own hands − I would have brought you his head −" He hissed in a way from which, for some reason, she felt not discomfort but pride.
"− and I will bring it to you −" He began, and she blinked, looking at him surprised, not understanding what he meant. When he lifted his gaze to her, she froze, seeing something in his eye that she knew perfectly well.
"− I will bring you the head of Larys Strong − I am returning to King's Landing −"
His gaze went from intense and threatening to surprised and frightened as she let go of him immediately, turning pale as she took a few steps back, breathing heavily through her mouth.
I am returning to King's Landing.
"− you want to abandon me −" She muttered with regret and disbelief feeling her whole body was trembling − he stood up from his seat, horrified at how she reacted, shaking his head.
"− no − no, I want to make sure that no one dares to act behind my back anymore − that what happened will never happen again − I need to speak with my brother −"
She looked away, embracing herself tightly with her arms, trying not to cry, trying to maintain a semblance of indifference as the cold sweat of disappointment, fear and despair ran down her spine.
"− fly with me − this time of your own free will −"
"− no −" She declared immediately, startling him. "− this is the only place where I'm safe − the only place where I'm not afraid for my life − don't expect me to go back to my golden cage −"
He looked at her dully, with a disappointment mixed with sadness. He swallowed loudly and looked to the side, licking his lower lip with his tongue.
"− I see − so I'll do what is necessary and return here − I can't predict when that will happen −" He replied coolly in a way from which she felt her heart squeeze.
She pressed her lips together in rage as she felt involuntary warm tears one by one begin to run down her cheeks and hid her face in her hands as she finally burst into a helpless, loud sob.
He drew in the air loudly, not knowing what to do − she heard his footsteps, his strong arms embraced her, hugging her into his leather tunic. She snuggled into him, tightening her fingers on the material of it, feeling hot in her lower abdomen as his familiar, longed-for scent filled her nostrils.
"− will you betray me again? − will you stab a dagger into my heart? −" She mumbled in a quivering, breaking voice, imagining that he had given up once and for all, that he had decided that she was not worth such an agony, such an effort, such a sacrifice.
She heard him huff, sighing impatiently − he shook her body as if he wanted her to wake up.
"− what are you saying? − I'm doing all this for you − only for you −" He exhaled, uttering the last sentence while pressing his lips to her ear, his hot breath enveloping her cheek. She turned her face towards him and the tips of their noses touched − they stared at each other for a moment, his thumb running tenderly over the soft, hot skin of her face.
"− let me −"
She didn't object as his arms embraced her hips and lifted her up, as he headed to the bed with her, as he laid her gently on the sheets − he watched her face with his lips parted in desire as his trembling hands uncertainly lifted the material of her gown up, exposing her bare thighs.
She heard only the rustling of the material of his breeches before they both sighed − he took his swollen, long manhood in his hand and guided its pink, fat head to her slit, pushing against it, stretching her folds to the sides.
Though he didn't even touch her, her moist, puffy walls welcomed him easily as he slid deeper into her with a soft, slow, tender thrust of his hips.
He leaned over her, nuzzling his face into her cheek − she could feel his ragged, excited, hot breath enveloping her face.
"− I love you − I love doing this to you − I love feeling you − your warm, tight insides − your scent − gods, Rhaenys −" He breathed out, beginning to move inside her, with the gentle rocking of his hips slamming his cock into her again and again with the quiet click of their shared wetness.
She felt tears of emotion, pain, affection and fear run down from the corners of her eyes onto the pillow under her head, her fingers tightening on the material of his tunic.
"− uncle −" She mumbled helplessly like a small child − she felt his manhood pulsate hard inside her, felt his fleshy, swollen lips pressed against her cheek placing wet, hot kisses on it, his thrusts deeper, surer and faster, teasing a wonderful spot deep inside her.
"− I'm here − your husband is by your side −" He whispered, his words, his pushes, his hands stroking her cheeks and thighs so tender, so warm, that she gave herself to him completely, spreading her legs wider, letting him sink deeper into her with his low groan of pleasure.
Never had they made love so quietly, so close together, so helpless and vulnerable, never had she felt so frightened and so safe at the same time, his scent, his breath, the fact that she felt him deep inside her soothed her nerves.
"− don't leave −" She mewled, cuddling his body into hers, listening to the slickness of their naked bodies, the wonderful, tickling heat intensifying in her lower abdomen, her nipples under her gown growing hard and sensitive, her lips parted wide as his thighs slapped against her buttocks again and again.
"− I'll come back to you − I promise − I promise −" He exhaled, his lips, his tongue clinging to hers in sticky, dirty, loud kisses from which her fleshy muscles clenched around him, sucking him inside, both of them soaking wet from her moisture.
"− your seed − I want it inside me, uncle −" She mewled throwing her head back, feeling the tension inside her reach its peak, her hips responding greedily to his thrusts − he sighed loudly, surprised, rooting into her at last with all his might, pressing her body against the bed, which began to creak loudly beneath them.
"− I know − 'm close − Rhaenys − fuck-fuck-fuckkk −" He groaned, closing his eye, his hands finding hers and intertwining their fingers as his warm spend filled her womb, his lips parted in relief and pleasure. He pressed his face into the hollow of her neck not slowing down his pace, giving her what she needed until she came.
She reached her peak feeling it, clenching her fingers against his, moaning helplessly beneath him, trying to calm the convulsions of her body as his hips still rocked deep inside her for a moment longer.
"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −"
They lay like this in silence, holding hands, trying to calm their shaky breaths, his manhood still pulsing inside her for a while, soft and warm.
She thought that never before had she felt so secure, so fulfilled as she did now, with him, with this man.
She wasn't sure where her body ended and his began − it seemed to her that they intertwined like vines and had long since become one.
She had always known that something was missing in her without him.
A single, solitary tear ran down the side of her face at the thought that he would no longer be with her.
He felt it, felt the moisture on her cheek and lifted his gaze to her.
"− no − no, my love − shhh −" He hushed her, stroking her hot face with his thumb, wiping a wet trail off it.
He gave her a tender kiss, long and drawn out, the way she had always imagined a man would kiss the woman he loved.
She felt hot in her heart at the thought.
Her mother, on hearing that her uncle intended to return to King's Landing, was not pleased, but neither did she object when she learned her daughter intended to stay by her side. She allowed him to leave; he did not, however, receive a warm farewell and, as she understood, did not expect one at all.
She was the only person to lead him away − the sun shone high in the sky as they approached Vhagar, her gown, his cloak and their hair blowing in the wind. He turned towards her, his hand raised to her face, seeing the sadness painted on it.
"− my wife −" He said quietly and kissed her forehead, like when they were little children.
He did this whenever he wanted to reassure her, when they were alone and he was unable to find the words to give her comfort.
She felt a squeeze in her heart at that thought, that he remembered it, that, like her, he held all those memories deep inside his heart.
"Why can't I have a beautiful hair colour like you, uncle? It's not fair. Many women in the world have dark hair, but not white." She muttered, fiddling with the fabric of her gown as she sat beside him on the wide windowsill in his chamber, a book in his hand.
They spoke of House Targaryen and Old Valyria, reflecting on their trip to Essos and what they wanted to see there first.
She lifted her gaze to him and saw that he was looking at her with his eyes wide open, as if there was something about the subject she had brought up that frightened him for some reason. He grunted quietly and licked his lower lip, swallowing hard, looking away.
"Well…I understand your sadness. But that was heaven's decision." He replied calmly, turning the page, apparently wanting to close the discussion quickly.
"Aren't you disappointed that your future wife doesn't have snow-white hair?" She mumbled in a breaking voice, pressing her lips together, feeling her chubby cheeks turn red from the tears that had welled up under her eyelids.
He looked at her, shocked to hear her question, his lips parted when he saw that she was on the verge of bursting into sobs.
She was afraid she had been a disappointment to him.
"− I − well − I never considered it − I don't feel any disappointment about it − I am fond of your dark, long eyelashes − they make your eyes seem even bigger − your curls are soft to the touch −" He muttered, apparently trying to get anything out of himself and her face lit up with a wide, grateful smile. He looked at her and sighed finally, the corner of his mouth also lifting up lazily.
"− don't think about it −" He hummed, laying his hand on the back of her head and leaned in, placing a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.
All she could think about was that, that sunny summer day when his hand dropped as he stepped back and turned, walking towards Vhagar, warm tears of grief, sadness and helplessness running down her cheeks one after another.
For the next few days, she felt as she had for the eight years she had been separated from him.
She locked herself in her chamber, eating almost nothing, reading and reflecting on everything that had happened.
She shuddered when she heard a knock on her door. She wanted to say that she longed to be left alone, but she heard a familiar voice from behind them.
"May I come in?"
Baela.
She swallowed quietly and rose to sit on her bed, sighing.
"Yes."
The door opened and her stepsister stepped inside, closing it behind her, bestowing upon her a calm, warm smile. She walked over to her and sat on the bed beside her, looking down at her hands.
"Did Jace tell you what he did?" She asked uncertainly.
She wanted her brother to admit it himself, to take responsibility for his actions.
He wasn't a little child anymore.
Baela looked at her and snorted.
"Yes. He asked me to apologise to you. He said he was unable to come here to do it himself out of shame. The sight of your uncle took his mind away." She muttered disapprovingly, shaking her head and running her hand over her face. She looked at her finally, concern and compassion in her gaze.
"How do you feel?" She asked quietly, her fingers tentatively reaching out to hers. She squeezed them, wanting to let her understand that her closeness meant a lot to her even though she couldn't express it.
"Empty." She whispered.
Baela pressed her lips together at her words.
"Because he's gone?"
"Yes."
"Is he coming back?"
"That's what he said."
They were silent for a moment, looking towards the window, contemplating.
"What he did…he shocked me. He's obsessed with you."
She furrowed her brow at her words.
"My brother?" She asked uncertainly, frightened by the thought that it might have been worse than she thought.
"Your husband."
She swallowed hard, feeling her heart heat at her words for some reason − she knew her cheeks lit up with a flush of shame at the memory of what he had done in front of them.
"− forgive me − I don't know what got into all of us then − you must have been embarrassed −" She muttered, lowering her gaze. Baela giggled at her words.
"− no, just the opposite − I felt jealous − when he embraced you, when he touched you, he wasn't looking at us anymore − he was looking at you − how madly in love do you have to be with someone to do something like this? −" She asked with amusement.
For some reason her words and light-hearted approach made her feel better. Her fingers clamped tighter on hers.
"I missed you. It's only now that I realised that. You were always so good to me." She mumbled in shame, thinking of how she had never shown her as much warmth as she should have, sunk in her grief and pain.
"You've always been that way towards me too."
She shook her head.
"No. I couldn't let you into my heart. I couldn't −"
"You suffered. I know, you don't have to explain it to me. I never held it against you." She said calmly. As she extended her hand to her, Baela smiled and sighed as if relieved, laying down beside her, pressing her cheek against her breast.
"− what are you going to do with Jace? −" She asked uncertainly, stroking her shoulder, her pleasant floral oils teasing her nose. Baela laughed under her breath.
"− I'll raise him −"
They spent the evening together, conversing about everything and nothing, as if they were trying to recapture lost time. Rhaena eventually joined them, looking for her sister, finally laying down next to them.
They tried to forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them.
It was as if she had never left Dragonstone.
After a few days, a servant interrupted her morning meal by saying that a message had arrived for her from King's Landing. She blinked, shocked, wondering what it could have been about, convinced that something bad had happened.
She nodded and dismissed the boy, ripping off the lac and unrolling the parchment as soon as he closed the door behind him.
I cannot sleep. When you are not by my side, I have nightmares. I dream that you are dying. In a sleep. In a fire. In childbirth. I think I am losing my mind. Write me immediately when you receive this message that you are alive and safe. Send it to Harrenhal, for there I set out on my mission to end the life of Larys Strong once and for all. You will have his head. Aemond
She swallowed loudly, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, joy and disbelief, for it was the first time in her life that she was the one to receive a letter from him.
The letter he had written her before he flew to Storm's End had been an act of desperation, but now it was a confession of his free will, a desire to communicate to her what he had felt and experienced during their separation.
She was touched by it.
She immediately sat down at her desk and began to write, not wanting him to wait any longer than necessary for her reply.
I am alive, my husband, and I am in good health. Do not fret, I know I am safe here. I ask you, whatever you intend to do, not to take the life of Alys Rivers. I am owed a debt to her and her death is not my desire. Return to Dragonstone as soon as you can. Rhaenys
She rolled the parchment in her hand and summoned her servant, ordering that the message be sent to Harrenhal and that it be passed directly into her husband's hands.
The next few days passed as she waited for his reply − she feared that something had happened, that her father's brother would realise why he had come there, that he was in danger.
One morning when she got up she simply fainted, her head hitting the table − she lay like that for a long time, unconscious until one of the servants came into her chamber, wanting to help her dress.
Her mother panicked and immediately summoned the maester, ordering him to examine her. When she woke up, she heard her conversation with Daemon, and recognised their voices despite not seeing them.
"Is he absolutely sure?"
"Yes, he had no doubt. It may be a sign, Daemon. I −" Her mother paused, turning towards her, hearing that she was trying to get up.
"− no − no, my love − lie down and rest −" She said with concern, placing her hand on her shoulder, the other fixing a pillow under her head, warmth, tenderness, concern in her eyes.
"− what happened? −" She mumbled, feeling that her head ached badly. Her mother smiled at her in a way that warmed her heart.
"− you are carrying a child inside you −"
291 notes · View notes
neysaadept · 2 months ago
Text
Prometheus Chapter 11
Tumblr media
Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader
Chapter 11 - Take a Chance and Crash
Tags: (changing this to tags for each chapter) Swearing, masturbation, sexual innuendos, flirting, alcohol consumption, drunk Reader, angst, confirmed sexual abuse by parent. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 4.1k
AO3
“Thanks for driving me home, Emily,” you said sleepily in the passenger seat. Unlike you, Prentiss had held back on drinking a lot so she could drive home safely. The other ladies took ride shares, and you were going to as well until Emily offered to take you home.
“Well, considering I strong armed you into coming, figured it was only polite,” she answered cheekily.
“Strong armed?” You laughed and accidentally snorted, which made Emily bite back a chuckle. “Maybe if I kept saying no you woulda gonna go cavewoman on me.”
“What does that even mean?” She was not fluent in your drunk talk yet.
“You know!” you said without explaining any further as to you, it was obvious.
“I’m sorry to say, I do not,” she said with the years of patience talking to inebriated co-workers.
You found this confusing and shrugged. “I thought you were smart and membered things good.”
 “I am, and I do, but not once did either of us mention prehistoric women.”
“You were going through my clothes!”
She nodded.
“And you were so …” your hands gestured in the air trying to find the word, “so…insistent. Persistent?” You looked confused and pouted. “Both?”
Emily fought a smile by biting her lip. “Both works in this case as they’re synonyms.”
You made a fist to pound on the armrest triumphantly. “Yes! So, if I didn’t still wanna go, I bet you woulda made me get dressed, throw me over your shoulder, and throw me in the car. Ugh! Ugh!” You pound your chest in time with the grunts, and then looked around with a squint trying to remember something. “This car, actually. This is the car we came in, right?”
“Yes!” Emily barked out a laugh. “But I wouldn’t have made you get dressed.”
“No?” The thought of that makes you sad as your eyes drifted to her hands wondering what they would feel like on your whole body. That made you grin a bit dopily.
“No,” she confirmed and wished she didn’t notice that you may have been delighted by being undressed by her. You were intoxicated and she wasn’t going to confirm that look any further, but it made her wonder how far your defenses had dropped to comment like this and how truthful they were. “I’m not a cavewoman. Just … persistent.”
“Insistent!” you said, looking proudly at her and squinted with one eye open. “Syn -no -nym.”
“Very good, Whitlock. You get an A in English class.”
You jutted out your lower lip and nodded. “I’m skilled with my tongue.”
It took Emily every ounce of self-control to not push down on the gas pedal and tear off down the road with that unexpected comment. She plays it cool. “And … why is that?”
“Linguistics!” you announced. “Know lots of English and other languages. Like you!”
Her heart’s accelerated beat slowed a little with that, and she chuckled. “Not the best use of the English language right now, honey, but at least you’re trying.”
Then you blurted out in Russian. “Это означает, что вы тоже умеете обращаться с языком!” And then looked sly. “Делает меня счастливой девочкой, а?”
This time she came to a hard stop at the red light and the seatbelt locked on both of you. “Ugh! I hate when this happens.” You fought with the strap to try and loosen the seatbelt. You looked the fool as you kept failing to free yourself by grunting with each pull, glaring at the anchor attached to the door that kept clunking in defiance.
Emily remained quiet as you struggled. She wasn’t as proficient in Russian as you were, but she gleaned enough of it that made her mouth go dry …
The rest of the drive home had been tamer because the fight with the seatbelt seemingly made you forget all about the linguistic tongue inuendo due to alcohol consumption, but Emily was well aware that her surprised reaction was wailing with desire for you. When you exited her car, a flash of want passed between you when you locked eyes. It began as a rudimentary current that wanted to spark brightly and latch onto the two of you. Emily did want to reach out to claim it with a fervent need. In those scant seconds of gazing deeply into your eyes, she pictured herself quickly exiting the car to stalk around it towards you so she could capture your lips in a hot, fervent, kiss.
Later that night Emily was stuck lying in bed and unable to sleep, her mind drifting inevitably to you. She tried forcing her mind to work on the current cases to be logical instead of emotional – detailing evidence or witness testimony or go through Monday’s schedule to bore her to sleep because running numbers at that financial meeting is boring as fuck. But every time she closed her eyes, she kept seeing you. The way your eyes squint, making them noticeably mischievous, when you playfully flirt with her. It caused your mouth to curve upwards divinely despite Emily being mortified! Or how delightfully witty you are, how your intelligence pours from you underneath all that frivolity that speaks to the demons you’ve shared with one another. Your physicality in taking Luke down was a sight to behold. Not just the innate skill that you’ve honed over the years to defend yourself but your exquisite lean frame that her wandering eyes enjoyed tracing your musculature.
Emily hadn’t felt this way in a long time and when she did, she just took care of her needs with a toy or her hand in the safety of her own home. Instead of giving in to her desire and being respectful of your inability to make sound decisions, you both parted ways, Emily waiting until you made it inside the main entrance safely as you continued to sing Shadows of the Night by Pat Benatar that had started playing in the car. You may have been drunk but damn, did you have a fine singing voice. You even stayed on key.
Her mind begins to wander further, wondering how those strong arms and legs of yours would feel wrapped around her own body. It forced a sigh from Emily’s mouth, her body shifting under the sheets as the chase for friction between her legs grew wanton. As she brought her hands under the sleep shirt she wore, she toyed with already erect nipples, palms gliding against them in a circular pattern before fingers pinched and rolled. She closed her eyes and gasped, feeling herself clenching as her body demands more.
One of Emily’s hands drifts teasingly along her bare abdomen, imagining how the two of you would try and dominate the other, kissing and pulling at each other’s clothes until one of you claimed victory and, in her mind, Emily succumbed first. She softly groans with her hand slipping under the pajama pants and the waistband of her underwear, teasing coarse hairs. She cries out, picturing your face between her legs, nuzzling and teasing your tongue to work Emily up viciously. She spreads her fingers rubbing her clit between them as hips rock of their own accord. She immediately clenches with a strangled sigh, needing to fill the escalating ache. She imagines her fingers sliding inside her were yours, that you were feeling her slick heat for the very first time. That your tongue was batting against her clit instead of the palm grinding against it. Emily’s wanton body was flushed with impending climax – lips parted in a diverse symphony of cries and gasps with hips rocking to reach maximum penetration. Her free hand gripped the sheets tightly and tugged, grounding herself in the image of you pumping and curling your fingers at just the right tempo to make her sing. She imagines your heated gaze locking with her own across the landscape of her undulating body and that was when she couldn’t hold back any further.
Emily cried out your name at the first tight pull deep within her pelvis before unraveling completely.
She immediately fell asleep after releasing her body’s tension in a delightful orgasm but when she awoke this morning, Emily knew she was in trouble. She wanted to blame JJ, Tara and Penelope for putting thoughts of you two together in her head, but that wasn’t entirely true. These stray thoughts have been occurring since Indio. If she wanted to be truly honest with herself, probably even longer.
So, it really, really, was unpleasant to know that she didn’t have the entire weekend to get her emotions in check. No. Sicarius just had to make contact late last night. Penelope texted both you and Emily that Spiderboy took the bait. Emily had made the decision for the three of you to meet at Quantico to go over next steps and not respond too quickly without a plan, and if things progressed further, you would need a separate device to use, which could only be provided onsite.
She purposefully remains seated to the left of Penelope, not wanting to sit against the edge of the desk to avoid as much eye contact with you as possible. You had shambled into Quantico with an FBI hoodie on looking like a criminal. The hood was pulled tightly over your head, the strings long and dangling against your chest and to make the ensemble perfect, you had sunglasses on. The black sweats and crocs really took away the mystique though.
You were nursing your coffee from a to go cup from Costco, idly swinging your chair back and forth in thought on the other side of Garcia. You hadn’t said anything or acted like anything out of the ordinary happened last night, and Emily knows she didn’t fantasize the interaction. It occurred to her that maybe she got lucky, and you were so drunk you just don’t remember what happened.
Penelope being hung over also was in Emily’s favor. No jokes or pushing any information on driving you home has come up. Well except one joke she made about you.
“You’re awfully quiet there, Unabomber.”
“Ha. Ha.” Your tone was dull. “I’m thinking.”
You were thinking about last night and how stupid you were on the ride home with Emily. Sure, you didn’t betray national secrets, or Emily’s tendency to sleep on her office couch instead of going home, but you were a stupid drunken fool hitting on her so explicitly when you two were alone in her car.
You had never been so grateful being choked by a seatbelt. It managed to reset your brain, making you behave, your addled mind going to a safe place which was singing in Emily’s car! Who does that?! You’re so fucking embarrassed that drunk you thought singing to Pat Benatar was the perfect way to turn the conversation around to something less mortifying with only three minutes left until you arrived at your complex.
You’re still unsure how you feel about Emily ignoring what happened and honestly, it’ll have to wait for another time. You need to focus on Sicarius.
User45125: How’s the world on your end? It’s been a minute.
You received this message a minute after Sicarius responded to your carefully written response to a true idiot poster that thought gasoline and a match were all you needed to send things ablaze. Someone with more finesse would offer advice on how not to get caught after your first fire. You and Emily had bounced different ideas on how to tackle your first post on the message board and felt that an innocuous response to a thread would get your feet wet. You also liked some posts that fit FlamePit23’s usual interests, but at an inconsistent pace to make it appear that FlamePit23 was busy.
Penelope suddenly whines in frustration. “Ugh, still no luck, ladies. The way private messaging works on this platform is that the system deletes messages after ninety days. Nothing I’m doing can retrieve them.”
“Well, we got everything FlamePit posted, and I came up with a good opening. I can keep it up with the info we’ve got. Just, if we keep messaging like this and things escalate, I’m gonna need more wiggle room to communicate and I doubt I’m doing this on my personal cell,” you explain.
Prentiss immediately agrees. “Garcia, set up a cellular device for Whitlock with all the bells and whistles the prior unsubs had. I want this phone to be Sicarius approved.”
“Easily done. I’ll hook you up with latest and greatest, my dear.”
You nudge her knee with yours and she looks up at you and smiles when she sees yours. “Thanks for taking care of me. But now I need to borrow her majesty’s keyboard to respond. May I?”
She tilts it towards you. “You may.”
You bite your lower lip and, in these situations, become FlamePit23 and go with your gut. It’s how you’re a good spy. You put you away in this neat little box to emulate the persona that you’re required to be. You type something out as Garcia and Prentiss watch. You didn’t even have to delete words or rephrase. You answer as if this wasn’t your first time speaking with Sicarius which impresses both women.
FlamePit23: You know how it goes. Life gets in the way and you have to pretend play. How is shit on your end?
You didn’t hit send yet and look at the ladies to your left. “Sound good?”
“Did you seriously rhyme on purpose?” asks Penelope.
You finally pull back the hood covering your head and smooth back your tussled hair. “Indeed, I did. This girl likes being poetic so here I am waxing some.”
Emily nods to hide her distracting eyes towards your movements. “Hopefully it’s enough.”
You hit send and slide the keyboard back to Penelope. “Figure I’ll stay here until the phone’s ready?”
“Correct. We can’t take the chance Sicarius responds back now that FlamePit23 will seemingly be more active. How long to get her set up?”
Penelope’s fingers dance along her newly returned keyboard setting up programs and requisitioning a phone for your use. “A few hours to work my magic, lovelies.”
“And let’s start brainstorming electronic footprints that Sicarius can find. If things start going well, he won’t want to talk to someone that he can’t find anything on.”
“Good plan. But first, I’m gonna go make some coffee. Can’t plot without more,” you announce, rising. “Shall I make it for three?”
“Yes, please!” Penelope brings up coding to start imprinting electronic lies for later. Not for social media. No, this FlamePit would be off those apps, probably have a police record and basic information of where she lived, went to school, work, and current address. Simple things for Penelope to create.
“That would be great. Thanks, Whitlock,” says a distracted Emily, busy scrolling through her phone.
You take it as a good sign that she doesn’t want to join you to talk about last night. You salute the two of them and head out to the kitchen.
Penelope may have been hung over, but she was not ignoring her desire to know what happened last night after Emily offered to drive you home. Since you arrived at Quantico first looking like shit, she didn’t want to press her cutie for any information just yet. The sober section chief was her target.
She looks at Emily who was focused on her phone and decides to take her fuzzy yellow pen top to tickle her friend’s face. “Okay, spill!”
Emily irately swats the offending item away. “What the hell?!”
She accusingly points her fuzzy pen top at her. “You mean to tell me nothing happened last night?!”
“What?” Emily was tired and impatient at the vague statement, but the fierce look Penelope was giving her provided the means to piece together the unspoken specifics. “No, nothing happened. I just drove her home.”
“After all the flirty banter and her eying you all night, nothing happened?” Penelope was appalled.
“She was not eying me all night. And to be fair, you all end up being flirty with each other, and me, when you’re all tipsy and beyond,” she corrects firmly.
“I have eyes, Emily, and I saw hers looking at you when she wasn’t laughing against your side,” she counters haughtily. “And you sure as heck didn’t mind her being all cozied up to you.”
“And she was drunk. I’m not going to do anything when she’s drunk.”
“Ah!” Penelope points happily. “So, you do want to do something!”
“No! That’s … that’s not what I meant,” she says, quickly trying to defend herself.
“Then what did you mean?” she asks, crossing her arms with an eyebrow raising with demand. “You still haven’t given a real reason why you can’t go for her.”
“Because we’re working a case.” She gestures with her phone hand to Penelope’s screens. “Last thing I need is a distraction. Or if shit goes wrong, being awkward at work.”
“No,” Penelope waggles her brows in mischief. “But this would be a good distraction since, you know, you’re one of the few people not getting laid around here.”
She grimaces and feels her cheeks grow hot as her mind goes back to getting herself off last night to the thoughts of you. “God damn it, JJ …”
Penelope’s face relaxes and looks at Emily with sympathy. “I wouldn’t push if I didn’t think our cutie wasn’t in to you, and believe me, all signs point to being hot for Prentiss. And come on, Emily! You two have a lot in common and are getting on well. Take a chance for once and see how things go instead of running away of a maybe good thing …”
You stop in Prentiss’ office to grab her FBI mug before heading to the kitchen without thinking. You just know that was her preferred mug and wanted to use it. You pour the coffee grinds into a filter, fill the coffee maker with water, hit brew, and then line up the mugs. Yours was just a plain red one that you borrowed and set it between Prentiss’ and Garcia’s Good Morning Servant white mug with cats on it.
As the hot water starts dripping with audible hissing, you lean against the fridge with a sigh wondering what you were you going to do about last night. Do you just ignore what happened like Emily was doing or do you come up with a lame apology and see where things go?
Easy enough. You’re going to forget about it and pretend you were an amnesic drunk. You never had a relationship before and you’re not going to start changing your mind now. Everyone has baggage but yours is the size of two semi’s packed full of it. Emily doesn’t deserve to deal with your bullshit. Bullshit that equated to never having an emotional or physical relationship ever with anyone since your fucking father ruined any chance of that connection with his abuse against you. You used your body for marks in the CIA, which was easy for you to pretend to be someone else, like how you pretended to be someone else when your father assaulted you. It was easy to transpose the same survival instincts to undercover work and push women that held interest in you away with being aloof to their advances. Men were easier to disappoint. If a no didn’t suffice, it became a fuck off, and if that didn’t work, the fist in their face ended the issue.
But fuck it all with Emily. Why did she have to be so fucking flawlessly imperfect. You didn’t know how else to explain her energy that just wanted to link with yours. The woman was fucking gorgeous with long silver hair framing her face, and brown eyes that spoke to you with a depth of emotional understanding being in the same line of work as yours. And her fucking ability to disarm you was aggravating as it was comforting. You just were able to be you around her and since Brian gave her some leeway into who that was, you found it easy to be honest with her.
You never had this sort of affection come over you for anyone and it scared you that you wanted to know what it felt like. But you couldn’t. Again, it wasn’t fair to Emily.
Your phone goes off just then and when you pull it free from your pants pocket, you see that it was Brian and answer. “Your ears were burning. The guilty party has decided to check in.”
Brian laughs. “She told you, huh?”
“Considering she showed up outta the blue at the apartment and I was livid? Yeah, of course she told me.”
“And how did it go?”
“Oh, you just assumed I went?” you respond back, pretending to be irritated.
“You sound tired and hung over, so yes. I know you did.”
You scowl in displeasure at how easily he can still read you over the phone. “Seriously? I sound like that. I thought I was hiding it pretty good.”
“Well?”
“You want a pat on the back or something?” You say it with a chuckle.
“Nope. Just want to know how it went.”
The hand against the fridge door was lightly stroking the cold metal before you began drumming your fingers against the surface in thought. “I had a lot of fun. Thanks for telling her.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Though, you really should be thanking Prentiss for calling me.”
“I did.” You rock your head mulling it over and rephrase. “Sorta.”
“Alright. How did you sorta thank someone this time?”
Brian was well aware of your ability to speak around certain phrases and thanking someone for pushing you was one of them. “By allowing her the pleasure of driving me to the meet up and back.”
“That all?”
“No.” He waits patiently as you work up your courage. “I let her know I suck at being in groups.” Then you thud the back of your head against the fridge a couple of times. “And I sang in front of her on the ride home.”
“You did not.” He’s shocked.
“Indeed, I did.”
“You never sing in front of people so casually …” He still couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah, well …” You sigh,” … I was drunk.”
“Even drunk you don’t.” He waits a beat, and you can hear him smiling into the phone. “You must really like her to let your guard down like that.”
“That’s debatable but thank god I have a good voice, or I’d really be embarrassed.” You click your tongue. “I also may have confirmed I’m a spy last night. Just with Prentiss tho. Since you gave a bit of clearance and all.”
“That’s fair. She’s high enough up the chain to know small details of your work. But speaking of work …”
“Uh, oh … I swear I didn’t do it,” you grin, chuckling.
“Actually, that’s right on the nose. You missed Nina.”
Your eyes widen and you hit your fist against the fridge. “Shit! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bail on Nina. Is she mad?”
“No, but I am. You’re seeing her tomorrow. I want no excuses and for you to write it on your forehead if you need to. This is the first time in years you missed a session when stateside.”
“Okay, okay. Wait. Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“And I’m the Director of the CIA.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.” Of course, Brian pulled strings and paid Nina a bonus to talk to your ass on a weekend day. “Fine. What time?”
“10am.”
“Got it. I promise I won’t miss my date with Nina this time.”
What you didn’t realize is that Prentiss had come down to talk to you and was waiting for you to finish your conversation with Brian just around the corner. The courage that Penelope had forcefully coaxed out of her immediately dissolved into disappointment. It was too good to be true that you were interested in her and it was just the alcohol talking. She slips away back to Penelope’s office, anxiously picking at her nails to work through the emotions coursing through her body.
Whoever this Nina was, she must be an amazing woman for Brian to be setting her up with you. She was lucky. Unlike Emily who was two minutes too late in asking you out …
*Translation from Russian
And that means you’re skilled with your tongue, too! Makes me a lucky girl, eh?
Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list.
@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven @maybe-a-humanbean @unoreverselu @fluffypalmtree @willow-nox @simplylove-c
103 notes · View notes
prettybean · 1 year ago
Text
YOU ARE THEIR PILLOW PRINCE (COD +18)
* Please love Keegan anyway
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
Tumblr media
Ghost
He adores pleasing you and not just in the bedroom. You are his first love, and he would go to any lengths to ensure your happiness, even if it means sacrificing his own pleasure. His only desire is to make you feel happy and satisfied.
It happens very often that he lies down in bed, after a long day at work, beckoning you with his finger to come closer.
“Come here baby, sit on my face and don't get up until you've got it all wet.” You obeyed, wrapping your thighs around his face, gently sitting on top of him. “Good boy, you couldn't wait, could you?”.
Soap
This man’s sole purpose is to bring you pleasure. He devotes entire nights to pleasuring you with his tongue, without even touching his cock.
It's not intentional; he simply becomes completely absorbed in your delightful moans, forgetting about his own pleasure. With his experience, he knows every inch of your body. He skillfully locates your sweet spot with two fingers, expertly stimulating it to make you experience intense pleasure repeatedly for hours. You don't need to lift a finger; just lie back and enjoy everything he offers you.
Price
He adores you. His love for you is so intense that his focus is solely on you. Your pleasure is his pleasure, and he doesn't need anything else to satisfy himself. He ensures your comfort by making you lie down and placing pillows under your back.
He gently lifts your hips and lavishes you with affectionate caresses, praising you each time you reach climax as he desires.
"C’mon baby, cum. now." His satisfaction is derived from the moment when, as soon as he reaches zero in the countdown, you wet his bed and the pillows he had thoughtfully provided for you.
Gaz
He doesn't have to fuck you, sometimes you just inquire if you can cockwarm him and stay close. Who is he to refuse you that? You have the freedom to decide what you want to do with his dick: whether you want to cum or not.
He definitely wouldn't let you fuck yourself riding him. You should relax and let him take charge of the intimate moments.
"Does my beloved want my attention ? Well then, lie down, let me pleasure you."
Graves
He despises your entitled attitude as a pillow prince. He has repeatedly expressed his desire for you to please him more often, even if it's just by giving him a blowjob. You shook your head in refusal, only to find yourself in bed with your legs wide open once again.
"Damn, and then you accuse me of not loving you," he says playfully, stepping in between. "Alright, you want to be the bottom? Let's see how long you can hold on before passing out." From that point forward, you couldn't feel your legs for days.
König
He would love to see you as a pillow prince just for his own satisfaction. He enjoys pushing his limits and testing his skills. You two have been together for a while now, so he knows your body inside out and all the tricks to make you cum as quickly as possible. Sometimes, he even challenges himself to beat his own record. He can make you orgasm in ten minutes with his hands, and in just five minutes with his tongue.
Today, your man decided that he wants you to climax solely with his cock. "Be a naughty little slut and let me slide my big cock inside you. As soon as I do, you have to cum, got it?"
It was incredible how, the moment his tip touched your sweet spot, you came hard.
Keegan
No. You won't be his pillow prince, sorry. He loves to see how you suck his cock until you choke, he loves to push your head to make you take more of his length. Every time you tell Keegan you want to be his pillow prince, he laughs, pointing to the floor beneath his feet.
“Come on pet, show me how bottom you are with my cock in your throat.” Unbuckling his belt slowly, he lets you know that only he is in charge.
————
if you have a prompt in mind please send me 🫥
709 notes · View notes
moonshynecybin · 8 months ago
Note
Hey! Just wanted to say I’m in awe of how your writing it’s just so GOOD and FUN and TORUROUS. It’s rly hard to nail the voices and dialogue of characters (especially when writing them speaking in english!) but you always make it so believable. Ur Vale especially is sooo charismatic which like hats off bc a more mercurial man has not been made. 
Re ur charged-airport-conversation fic, I’m intrigued to find out how Marc will handle his sexuality crisis. Will he be in denial? does he very seriously study gay culture like telemetry data? is he getting Grindr? is he seeing it as something to incorporate into his PT routine & somehow translate this to a competitive edge? how did he feel about the pope saying frociaggine????
Also I loved the goofy brother shenanigans, Alex strongest most patient and silliest man alive truly. Extremely funny to think of Alex “please get a girlfriend you’re 30 and annoying me” Marquez having to cope with Marc coming back like “I found one! :3” holding hands with Cervera’s enemy #1 undisputed champ 2015-2024
Anyways, would love to hear any thoughts u had but no pressure! I just wanted to thank u for ur brilliant mind & forget about whatever fresh hell that sprint was 
this one. is one that i plan to maybe actually and fr write out so i shant answer in full because i hope that you'll find out eventually. um. i CAN give you chapter two! of THIS fic where Marc and Vale get stuck in an airport and have a somewhat fraught little bonding session. i have not proofread this OR reread the original so if there's inconsistencies just chill out. theres also a lot of liberties taken with the amount of privacy these guys have on a given race weekend again just chill out. please. they live in different countries and are bitter rivals its hard to get them alone into fictional scenarios. its about 1.4k.
(Part ONE !)
The next time he sees Vale is in the paddock.
It's not unusual to see him— the paddock is small and Vale is always a presence, felt even when he’s gone, indelible—but it’s on the television more often than not these days. Maybe a glimpse of him zooming around on his scooter, ignoring the swing of the camera phones tracking him in his wake. But it’s not like this, never this close up. Vale maintains distance, and Marc has adapted to take his cues from that same distance. He’s not going to be the first to engage, not anymore. 
All that being said, Marc is trying to grab some alone time in between sessions, communing with his lunch and contemplating ways to improve his breaking into Turn 11. He’s tucked into a shady place out of the way, generally out of the range of any stray cameras, when Vale catches him, sliding next to him on the table and leaning forwards on his elbows.
He starts picking at Marc’s food.
Marc reacts reflexively, not even processing that it's Vale who’s at his elbow who is reaching over to snag a bit of his chicken. He lifts his bowl out of reach like he would with Alex. “Hey— that's mine,”
Vale’s game, apparently, shooting him one of those dangerous grins, eyes crinkling at the sides towards Marc like he hasn’t seen in years. He’s brimming with the confidence of someone used to getting away with breaking rules. Marc puts down his food. Lifts a hand, adjusts the cap at the top of his head, and tucks his hair behind his ear. 
This means something. He doesn’t know what.
“Allora, you were not eating it.”
And Marc has always been easy for it—the simple skill he has in spinning a situation into the brightest version of itself, mood turning on a dime. Even when he was destroying Marc, he would do it with a smile. 
It’s that same silverbright thread that makes Marc laugh, disbelieving, a shock of delight. He shoves at the edge of Vale’s arm, jockeying with his elbow. He bites his lip, shakes his head. Would you look at that?
“Presumptuous,” Marc scolds, and tucks back into his lunch, forking another bite into his mouth. Vale grins and leans closer, conspiratorial. That same hot, embarrassed feeling from the airport rears its head, giddy. Marc glances around. There’s no one here. He feels like there is. LIke there’s eyes on them, even though he’d chosen a place where there shouldn't be.
It feels like crossing a line, teetering on the edge of some cliff, one toe over the edge. Hot and anticipatory in the pit of his stomach. There’s a breeze going, and he shivers. Vale leans closer.
He likes it. 
He also knows that he shouldn't like it. He’s gone through this song and dance before. This feeling, this hero worship that he has with Vale never leads him down any good road. He thought– six premier class titles and nearly ten years of vitriol had been an effective cure. Not so, he’s finding out.
Vale corrects, “I see what I see. This I cannot help.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve been watching me?
Vale shrugs, steals another bite. “You do manage to put on a good, ah, show.” He finds the words in Spanish. Marc can’t remember the last time they spoke in Spanish.
Marc takes a breath in. Settles himself. He doesn’t know what the end goal is here. Curiosity wins out— it’s better than wondering why Vale’s here in the first place. What game he’s trying to play. What he thinks he’ll get out of being nice to Marc, aside from that shivery feeling clawing its way up the base of his spine. He should really at least find out if he’s doing this because he plans on not being nice to Marc. 
“How did you find me?” Is what he goes with. Neutral enough. 
“You are not hard to find.” The answer is vague, but frank. Vale loves to speak around things.
Marc raises an eyebrow, decides to just keep looking at him. They both know he’s bullshitting. Vale breaks, and makes a face, shrugging.
“I have been racing here longer than you. I know the hiding spots.”
Marc gives him a minute roll of the eyes. It's still not an answer. “You know, they remodeled not too long ago. The entire layout changed.” Vale would’ve had to work to find him. 
“Not too much!” Vale spreads his palms cheerfully, seizing on a diversion. “The bones are still the same. The stands are over there,” he juts a thumb, “The pits are here. The bathrooms change, but bah. It’s a facelift.”
Marc wrangles down a smile. Vale’s not being serious— he’s being fun. Maybe he’s trying to get him comfortable for some reason. “A lot changes, I think.” He says frankly, and he means it. 
Vale’s eyes flash. He sees Marc’s conviction, catches the double meaning. Another one of their conversations centering around two different issues on the surface, but coming back to their history all the same. The elephant in the room butting into other topics. History, division, and rivalry, all sneaking its way into the cracks in their words. 
Vale keeps going, the lead in their little play.
“Maybe. But it’s not— like, aerodynamics, new regulations, new tires— all that changes. Small stuff.  Opinions, riders. But it is still a paddock. I’ve been in paddocks my entire life. You can’t change much.”
Things change a lot, in Marc’s experience. People. Teams. Bodies. 
Friendships.
And Marc is brave usually, has made a career out of it, so he feels like he has to ask. No use avoiding it and feeling half out of his skin for the rest of the day. Vale’s knee bumps into his own and he closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them Vale is already looking at him
“Why are you here?” He levels.
Vale throws him a soft smile. It comforts exactly no part of Marc.
“Maybe I was looking for a hiding place.”
Marc hesitates, choosing his words carefully. It’s always a spar with Valentino; even when they were friendly, they were still competing.
“Am I the hiding place?”
“Well, I am still more famous than you, is true. Less photographers on you than me. It’s peaceful.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Now there’s a good question.” Vale says, stealing something else off of Marc’s plate. “Today? I was hungry. I thought I’d stop by and eat with an old friend.” The words jolt through Marc like a highside. He’s in the air— lost, flying, falling. 
Vale stands, towering. He claps Marc on the shoulder. It burns white hot. Marc keeps his eyes on him, trying to catch a hint, a clue as to how this all happened. 
An old friend.
“Is that what we are?” He asks, more earnest than he should be. Vale can be such a bastard.
“Well, what would you call it?” He responds, turning the question on Marc, voice quiet. Serious, like he knows whatever hangs between them is as thin as a spiderweb. Marc swallows.
“I don’t know,” Marc answers. still too honest, even now. Something flickers on Vale’s face, too quick and complex for him to read. 
“Think about it.” Vale prompts, and walks away.
Marc finds out that they weren’t alone, in that section of the paddock the next day. The pictures hit the news after the race, headlines rolling in thankfully after Marc has left for home. Valentino Rossi and Marc Marquez sharing lunch, alone on a race weekend ten years after their falling out. What could it mean? 
But Marc’s eyes look at the photo and just catch on Vale’s shoulders, leaning towards Marc, the palm of his hand, arcing through the air as he gestures, frozen on the screen of his phone, and himself, eyes crinkled at the corners. He was wrong. He didn’t manage to reign in that smile after all. 
FRIENDS AGAIN?, the headline asks, and Marc wonders.
158 notes · View notes
callmemonster68 · 1 month ago
Text
JUNGWON – God of Time ( smut )
Tumblr media
He controls the flow of time and memories but finds himself drawn to the mortality of an intriguing human.
Pairing: Jungwon, a deity X FemReader (Masterlist)
Genre: Obscenity
Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands
Note: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome!
Tumblr media
In a realm where time intertwines with the deepest desires, you find yourself before Jungwon, the God of Time—a being who controls moments and memories. His gaze is mesmerizing, and every word from his lips seems to shape the reality around you. The tension in the air is palpable, as if every second is charged with unspoken promises.
Y/N: "God of Time, why did you bring me here? What do you want from me?"
Jungwon: "Ah, my tempting Y/N, time is a game few know how to play. I brought you here to explore the limits of desire. What would you do if time was no longer a barrier?"
Y/N: "I... I would give myself to every moment, every touch. What do you offer me?"
Jungwon: "I offer you eternity in an instant. Feel how time dissolves when our bodies meet. Every touch, every breath—it’s an eternity in itself."
Y/N: "Then let’s savor every second. Let time stop while we are together."
Jungwon: "Yes, let us dance between moments, surrendering to burning passion. Let time bow to our desires."
---------- Small Time Skip ----------
Jungwon: "Y/N, I want to show you something."
S/N: "What is it, Jungwon, God of Time?"
Jungwon took her hand and led her to an isolated spot in the forest. He sat her down and began to caress her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her breasts and the softness of her thighs.
Jungwon: "Close your eyes, Y/N. Let me show you what it means to surrender to the power of time."
Y/N closed her eyes, and Jungwon began to manipulate time. He slowed it down, and Y/N felt every touch and every kiss as if they were happening in slow motion. Then he sped it up, and a wave of pleasure coursed through her as every sensation intensified.
Jungwon’s hands traveled down her body, and he began to kiss her neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curves of her skin. Y/N moaned, and Jungwon smiled, knowing he had her exactly where he wanted.
His hands moved lower, and he began to tease her breasts, his fingers playing with her nipples. Soon, his lips reached her hardened peak, and Jungwon began with soft kisses that quickly turned into messy licks and light bites. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, and a wave of desire surged through her body.
Jungwon: "I’ll show you how thrilling it is to dance between moments."
Y/N’s mind was consumed by the sensations coursing through her. It felt as if time had stopped, leaving them as the only beings in existence.
Jungwon’s fingers found their way to Y/N’s core, and she moaned with pleasure, his face drawing closer to her intimacy. His lips hovered near her entrance, and a wave of pleasure surged through her as his tongue began to dance around her clit. Y/N let out a loud moan, quickly covering her blushing face with her hands in embarrassment.
Then, Jungwon penetrated her with two fingers, moving rapidly and skillfully, hitting her favorite spot and provoking spasms throughout her body. After just a few more thrusts, Y/N’s sticky walls clenched tightly around his fingers, and with a loud, intense moan, she came.
Jungwon looked into Y/N’s eyes, guiding his drenched fingers to his own mouth. He licked them clean, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. He delighted in provoking her and causing an overwhelming mix of sensations.
Jungwon: "Now you’re ready."
Jungwon smiled and leaned in to kiss her deeply. He could feel the heat between them, and he knew they were both ready for what would come next. He pulled her on top of him, caressing her soft skin with his hands. Y/N moaned at the sensation of his touch, instinctively grinding against him.
Jungwon’s arousal grew, and she could feel his erection pressing against his pants. Y/N noticed and pulled him closer, unzipping them. Once his cock was free, she took it in her hand, stroking it gently.
Jungwon let out a low groan, feeling the pressure build inside him. Y/N leaned in to kiss him again, whispering in his ear:
Y/N: "I want you to take me, God of Time. I want you to penetrate me and give me the pleasure only you can."
Jungwon needed no further encouragement. Hearing her call him “God of Time” ignited a fire within him like nothing else ever had. He slid his hand along her thigh, gently parting her legs. He positioned himself at her entrance and slowly pushed inside.
Y/N let out a loud gasp, clutching his shoulders. He began to move, and she moaned with every thrust.
Y/N: "Jungwon, yes, yes. Harder. I want you to take me."
Jungwon quickened his pace, his thrusts growing stronger and deeper. Y/N’s moans turned into cries as she was swept into an intense orgasm. Jungwon could no longer hold back, reaching his climax with a loud groan. Y/N collapsed onto Jungwon’s chest, the two of them entwined and exhausted.
Y/N: "That was incredible."
Jungwon smiled, gently kissing her forehead.
Jungwon: "I’m glad you enjoyed it, Y/N. I wish we could do this more often."
Y/N didn’t understand what he meant. He was a god—he could do and have anything he wanted, anytime he wanted. Why was he acting as if it weren’t so, she wondered.
Y/N: "But we have all the time in the world, just for us. We can do this as many times as we want."
Jungwon: "Perhaps in another life."
And with a snap of his fingers, Y/N was transported back to her room, lying in her bed in a deep sleep. Jungwon erased her memories. When she woke, Y/N wouldn’t remember ever meeting Jungwon, the God of Time, or how he had fucked her senseless, leaving her mind unable to function.
Tumblr media
This story is part of the universe of ' Divine Sins: Immortal Fantasies with ENHYPEN ' created by me.Description:Seven sensual and mysterious tales that delve into the desires between mortals and immortals. Inspired by the members of ENHYPEN, these stories reimagine the group as powerful gods and a fallen angel, all wickedly alluring and irresistibly seductive. Each narrative immerses readers in a world of fantasy, unveiling forbidden passions, divine secrets, and the overwhelming intensity that sparks between celestial beings and an ordinary human. A universe brimming with lust, mystery, and the captivating allure of the forbidden, where every story is an invitation to desire. Contains mature content.
✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿
100 notes · View notes
pandapetals · 4 months ago
Text
Poker
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You and the X-Men play poker.
a/n: Inspired by @sixwingedholy art. This is my first time sort of writing for remy so hopefully it’s not out of character.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
a/n: Inspired by @sixwingedholy art. This is my first time sort of writing for remy so hopefully it’s not out of character.
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
divider credit: @enchanthings
Tumblr media
"Sugar, you sure you wanna play with us?" Rogue asked with a playful smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief as you settled into the empty chair next to Logan at the poker table.
You arched an eyebrow, matching her smirk. "I know how to play poker if that’s what you’re getting at," you shot back, already reaching for the deck to shuffle it.
Hank chuckled from across the table, leaning back in his chair with an amused expression. "I don’t think that’s what she meant," he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Let’s just say things can get a little… unpredictable around here."
"Unpredictable?" Remy scoffed, shaking his head as he started dealing the cards. "You mean downright chaotic, mon ami. Especially when some people don’t know when to fold." He shot a pointed glance at Logan.
Logan grunted, leaning back in his chair with a half-smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You talkin’ about yourself, Cajun?" he drawled, picking up his cards with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Because last time I checked, you were the one who lost his shirt—literally."
"Hey, that was strategy," Remy shot back, narrowing his eyes as he threw a chip into the pot. "Keepin' you all distracted, non?"
Rogue rolled her eyes, reaching over to give Remy a light shove. "Sure, if 'strategy' means gettin’ beat by a bunch of amateurs," she teased, glancing over at you with a wink. "Though I gotta say, sugar, you’ve got Logan as your partner in crime here. Don’t let him lead you astray."
Logan’s eyes flicked to you, a glint of challenge there as he took a slow sip of his beer. "Oh, don’t worry about her," he said, setting his drink down and shooting you a sideways glance. "She can handle herself just fine. Question is, can you all handle us? "
Hank snorted, arranging his chips in neat little stacks. "Bold words, Logan. But I do recall you losing quite spectacularly the last time we played. If I’m not mistaken, you blamed it on the 'damn cards.'"
Logan shot him a glare, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "They were bad cards. And that was a fluke."
"Uh-huh, sure," you said, trying to suppress a laugh as you threw in your own chip to call the bet. "I’ll believe that when I see you win a hand without growling at the cards."
Remy leaned over the table, eyes twinkling as he dealt the flop. "Let’s make it interesting, then," he said, grinning like a cat with a canary. "How ‘bout a side bet? Loser has to do something… embarrassing. Like serenading the winner."
Rogue clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh, I like that idea. I’d pay good money to hear Hank belt out a tune."
Hank’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he cleared his throat. "Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I happen to have an excellent poker face."
Logan snorted. "Yeah, Hank, your poker face is about as good as Remy’s ability to stay quiet."
"Hey, now," Remy protested, holding his hands up in mock defense. "My mouth keeps the game lively, mon ami. Otherwise, it’s just a bunch of serious faces sittin’ around waitin’ to lose."
You glanced at your cards, then at Logan, who gave you a barely perceptible nod. "Well, I’m all in," you said, pushing your chips to the center. "I guess we’ll see who’s serenading who."
"Big words for a rookie," Rogue teased, but there was a flicker of surprise in her eyes as she glanced between you and Logan. "You two got a plan I don’t know about?"
"Wouldn’t you like to know," you replied, feeling the adrenaline buzz through you as the chaos of the game unfolded. The cards were turned, chips were thrown, and the banter flowed as easily as the drinks.
Remy grinned, throwing in a stack of chips. "Let’s see what you’ve got, chérie. I’m feelin’ lucky."
As the final card was revealed, you and Logan exchanged a knowing look. He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "Ready to show 'em how it’s done, darlin'?"
You smirked, flipping your cards over to reveal a winning hand. "Looks like someone’s gonna be doing a little singin’," you said, your gaze landing on Remy, whose jaw had dropped in mock horror.
Rogue burst into laughter, clapping her hands together. "Oh, this is gonna be good. What song are you takin’ requests for, Remy?"
Hank joined in, a grin spreading across his face. "I’ve got a few suggestions if you’d like to start with something classic."
Remy held up his hands in surrender, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "Alright, alright. I’ll sing, but I won’t promise it'll be pretty." He looked at you and Logan, shaking his head in disbelief. "You two been plannin’ this all along, huh?"
Logan grinned, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Let’s just say we make a good team."
As the table dissolved into laughter and arguments over which song Remy would butcher first, you felt Logan’s knee bump against yours under the table—a subtle, wordless acknowledgment of your shared victory. He shot you a look, one that was equal parts pride and amusement, and you couldn’t help but grin back, feeling like the luckiest player in the room.
73 notes · View notes
tenjikufag · 10 months ago
Note
Hello!! Hi I really love your stories. Uhm if I can ask, can you do a fluff of Dr ratio from honkai star rail x male reader. Once again I love your stories and creativity. <3<3<3
Let’s look at the stars.
Dr. Ratio x male reader
Tumblr media
- Fluff, no warnings
-note, I apologize for ooc content (I’m not all too familiar with this character.)
“-immense pressures and temperatures in the star's core squeeze the nuclei of hydrogen atoms together to form helium, a process called nuclear fusion…”
Late nights spent listening to your partners current interest were quite common, you loved to hear him speak with such enthusiasm.. he was in his element and you couldn’t be more happy to be the person he chooses, time and time again, to share it with.
This time, his current studying led him to the stars. Many dumb them down to dead balls of gas, but to him they were so much more. Even if he wasn’t all that big on sentimental things, something about the stars only showing their bright beauty after dying- it moved him in a way.
The two of you laid under the stars, only giving him hums in response to assure him that you were listening. Not that you could ever get a word in, he kept explaining his findings and moving his hands outwards to point to the many constellations, the pathways, which stars had names and what they meant..
“Did you know stars don’t actually twinkle? The proper phrase for it would be scintillate, which only happens when they find themselves among the horizon..”
“Then where do you think the phrase came from?”
Glancing over at him, his lip curled into a smile at the question.. he didn’t have an answer for that, it was more of a metaphorical phrase and the ties to such a phrase would be as endless as a black hole. So, he only smiled and half-heartedly brushed off not knowing such an answer.
“Oh? The doctor doesn’t have an answer?”
The male chuckled, turning his head to look at you with a soft smile.
“Hm, although I know you ask in jest..”
You watched as he sat up, moving to hover his head just above yours.
“Let me conduct a.. study if you will..”
The love in his eyes reflected your own. Nodding, you let him instruct you.
Grabbing your hand, he held it firmly in his own and pressed it into his chest. He then instructed you to close your eyes and timed you to keep them shut for a few seconds.
“Now open..”
You felt his breathe on your lips, noses almost touching but he kept a strong gaze into your pupils.. he watched as they dilated and how they..
Twinkled.
Satisfied, he laughed to himself
“Just as I thought..”
He moved to straddle your waist, now holding both of your hands and again dipped down to closely watch your eyes and how the stars reflected in your irises.
“The term "twinkling stars" is derived from the Old English word "twincan," which means "to twinkle or blink.”
Sitting up, he found himself staring back up at the sky to observe the stars align and glancing down back to your eyes to see how the light refracted..
“This term was likely used to describe the flickering or shimmering appearance of stars in the night sky, which is caused by the Earth's atmosphere…”
Your body followed his, chests pressed against one another and arms now wrapped around his slim waist.
“Is that actually true? Or are you simply making things up again?”
He laughed, clasping your face in his hands in delight.
“It’s true dear, don’t think I didn’t account for such a question from you. I’m honestly.. quite flattered you’d think I could lie to you about such an intimate thing..”
Intimate?
“I see those gears turning, Y/n. Stars are seen as signs of affection by many people, looking up to see the same stars their loved ones are seeing or maybe even looking for their lover among them..”
His smile faltered, the gaze he held no longer as strong. You felt his lips plant themselves on you. Smiling into the kiss, he pushed you back to lay on the plush grass beneath you- hands moving to hold your neck and caress his fingers along your jaw. When he pulled away, an uncharacteristic bashful blush covered his cheeks..
“Even though my study was fruitful, and I quite enjoyed it..”
Lips met yours again, but for a small loving peck
“I must say.. I enjoy studying these ‘twinkling’ stars in your eyes much more..”
He left one more chaste kiss on your lips before sliding off of you, returning to his spot beside you.
The man would learn everything through you if he could, but to use his studying to show his adoration to you was something he’d never thought would be possible- it never crossed his mind before you came into his life.
He’d study a million stars if he got to see them in your eyes.
I really hope this was okay, and not too ooc- thank you for the request!
225 notes · View notes
theyhavetakenovermylife · 1 year ago
Note
You know how small children, especially toddlers who just started walking and talking could be, so I'm curious how the turtles would handle their oldest kidd at this age especially since they never got to interact and take care of kids before this. From my personal experience, toddlers can be either innocent and cute little angels or annoying devils who bother everyone in public if they don't get what they want
First Steps or Words (Fluff)
Bayverse!Turtles x reader
Tumblr media
A/N: I’m not fully sure what you mean with toddlers just having learned to walk and talk, as kids typically take their first step or say their first word during the infant stage, but it could very well be my limited English that is getting in the way here😅 Anyway, in my internship I work with kids in the age group of 3 - 5, so I agree and disagree. Kids have a limited knowledge, both of themselves and their surroundings. Oftentimes they don’t think of how their actions can affect others, which is then my job to help them understand, and at the same time help them verbalize their emotions in a better way. But boy, sometimes the last thing you need is 4 year old that’s crying over something so simple as a toy, even though to them it's their whole world at that moment😭 Enough of that, time for some cute stuff💙❤️💜🧡
Tumblr media
Warnings: I already had baby fever before this, so I don’t know if you guys will get it too😭💚
Tumblr media
Leonardo:
Tumblr media
Never had Leo thought he would get to experience something like this. You and him in your shared bedroom, relaxing after a long day of working, with little baby Romeo smiling and giggling in the bed, kicking around in his little onesie. Your son had been a giggling delight all day, making all sorts of sounds from his play pen, almost distracting you, Leo and the first of the turtles in your work, building to extend the lair so that there would be space for your growing family.
Recently, Romeo had learned of a new sound to make, showing it off proudly with or  without a crowd to watch or hear him. Pressing his lips together with his tongue poking out, Romeo would blow out air, creating what sounded like a fart noise, with bubbles of spit forming where the air came out.
This was nothing new to you, having seen many human babies do things like that, either on the internet or in real life. You didn’t find it any less cute however, you had just known that Romeo would start doing it at some point. Leo however, was totally mesmerized. He had never seen nor heard a baby make noises like that, even though he watched hundreds of baby videos after the day he learned you were pregnant. But nothing prepared Leo for how fast it was going. In less than a year, Romeo had gotten from this little emobile green bean with big staring eyes, to this little bundle of loud noises and kicking limbs. Leo’s heart swelled, and as he watched Romeo kick around on your shared bed as you and Leo was cleaning up for the night, Leo couldn’t stop himself from hovering over your son, nuzzling his beak against his little stomach, causing the young boy to let out a high pitch scream of laughter. Leo lifted his head from Romeo’s stomach, looking down at his smiling son as he pressed his lips together around his tongue, kicking his legs as he made the noise he had been making for the last few days.
“Bbrrrrrrr”, Romeo let out, small bubbles forming around his mouth, making it impossible for Leo not to smile.
“Bbbrrrrrrrr”, Leo said back to your son, the small child laughing at his mimicking, reaching out for him, his small hands touching Leo’s face.
“Is daddy being silly?”, you asked in a baby voice, smiling with a chuckle as Romeo continued his small sounds, only for Leo to say them back to him. Romeo let out a high pitched shriek with a big smile, holding on to Leo’s face as his bright small eyes started at him. You wouldn’t help but smile as you watched the two of them, feeling warm throughout your body. It was wonderful to see Leo be so calm and loose around his child. He was truly at peace. “I think daddy’s being silly”, you teased, causing Leo to poke his tongue out at you as Romeo rambled on.
“No, daddy is having fun”, he said, turning his attention back towards the rambling Romeo.
“Brrrr, ba, babababa, dadadadada”.
You and Leo stared at each other in shock. Did you hear right? Did Romeo just say what you thought he said? All of your questions were soon answered when Romeo reached out for Leo once more, continuing his newly learned word.
“Dadadada”.
“That’s right!”, Leo exclaimed, picking up the happily screaming Romeo. “I’m dada! I’m your dada! Did you hear that mama?! He said dada!”
Raphael:
Tumblr media
There was nothing more entertaining than watching Joan crawl around the floor, trying to get from one place to another, closely following behind either you or Raph as you walked around the lair. With her small arms and legs and what you could only describe as a happy battle cry, she tried to keep you the best she could, soon gaining very strong leg muscles that could push her around the floor with ease. It was just a matter of time before she would start walking, and Raph was more than ready for that.
Everyday, Raph watched Joan intently, waiting for the moment she would start walking around on her small legs. He was fully intended to see her first steps, especially after having heard Leo complain more than once that he wasn’t home to watch his own son’s first steps. Raph wouldn’t make the same mistake. He would be there with a front row view when his first born started walking. But so far, she had only been crawling or sitting on her but, screaming loudly before following people around.
But Raph never once gave up hope, continuing to watch Joan each and every day, for the moment she would start carrying herself around on only two limbs. Which was one of the many reasons why he now sat on your shared bedroom floor on Joan’s playmate, with the young child between his legs, hoping that she would support herself on him and start walking. You sat on the bed, watching them with a smile, feeling your heart swell as Raph baby talked with your daughter.
You could have stayed there and watched them for hours, had your parents not called, asking about the next time they could come and visit you and Raph, and see their adorable little granddaughter. Therefore you stood up with your mother on the phone, heading towards the living area, in order to hear the other turtles and their partners, if they were okay with your parents coming over that following weekend.
And just like any other time, when either you or Raph stood up around little Joan, she looked in your direction, let out a high pitch sound before following you, supporting herself on Raph’s legs. Raph held his breath, waiting for the moment Joan would let go, and follow without anything supporting her. But as soon as she let go of Raph, she fell to her knees and started crawling for the door.
Raph chuckled, only slightly disappointed that Joan didn’t walk, but highly amused by her determination. “Don’t worry sweetpea”, he said. “Mommy will be back in just a moment”.
Joan sat back on her butt, looking at Raph for a moment with her fingers in her mouth, before she let out another sound, crawling back towards him. Or that was what Raph thought she was going to do. As she placed her hands on the ground, just like she usually did when she crawled, she did not start to move forward. Instead she used them to push herself off the ground, before wopling on her own two feet.
Raph let out the biggest shriek you had never heard, making you stop and turn in the living area, your mother still on the phone. Flailing around on the ground with his arms open, as if to tell her to come to him, Raph called out for you. “Babe! She’s walking! (Y/N)! She’s walking!”
You almost fell back into the room at the sound of Raph’s shriek, almost forgetting about your mother on the phone, not hearing her concerned questions, fearing that the roof was falling down on top of Raph and Joan. So did you for a moment, not registering the words Raph had yelled, but the sight of Joan taking small hesitant steps towards Raph was almost enough to make you fall to your knees with your arms open as well.
“Mom!”, you yelled into the phone, turning on the camera so she could follow along. “She’s walking! Joan’s walking!”, you continued to yell, capturing the moment Joan walked straight into Raph’s arms with a bright smile.
Donatello:
Tumblr media
Have you ever seen a baby get mad, when they can’t do the things people around them can? Well, that was Galileo when it came to walking. Watching his parents, uncles, ants, grandparents and cousins walk, while he was stuck on the floor was enough to make him angry, supporting himself on everything, trying his best to walk on his own. But it was the same story every time. As soon as Gali let go of whatever he was holding onto, he fell to the ground with a sad and angry expression. He wanted to walk!
You and Donnie did your best, lending him a helping hand whenever he wanted to walk, feeling pure happiness when you saw the big smile upon his face and heard his loud happy noises. But there were times where you couldn’t help him, or walk him in circles around the living area for hours. But Gali wanted that. He wanted to walk so bad, almost to the point where he got hysterical when he was tired. So you and Donnie did what you could do and helped him practice, enjoying his laughter and smile and how it brightened your world up.
One day, you and Donnie found yourselves sitting in the middle of the living area, sitting on the floor in front of each other with your legs out scratched. You held Gali’s hands in yours, his infectious laughter making both you and Donnie break out in bright smiles as you watched your son stand on his wobbly legs, holding onto you in order to stay up.
“Come on, Gali”, you said, fighting not to break into another fit of laughter. “Go over to daddy”.
You slowly guided Gali forward with the help of your arms, Gali laughing all the way, even as Donnie took his hands from yours, helping him all the way into his embrace.
“Hey, big boy!”, Donnie smiled, causing Gali to throw his head back in further laughter. It was adorable. Donnie held Gali close in a hug, looking at his hysterically laughing son, taking off his own glasses in order to rub his eyes, that had glossed over in tears due to his own laughter. “I’ll never get enough of this!”
“Imagine how much he will laugh when he can walk on his own”, you said, massaging your cheeks as they started to hurt from all that laughing.
“I can’t wait to find out”, Donnie said, turning Gali back towards you, holding him by the sides. Still smiling wide, Gali looked back over his shoulder, smiling at Donnie, a little bit of drool running from the side of his mouth. “Go to mommy, Gali. It’s mommy’s turn”.
Gali started laughing again, his legs giving out under him, letting him fall down into Donnie’s lap. However Gali kept laughing, causing Donnie to hide his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking from his own chuckles.
Gali stopped laughing, and grabbed onto Donnie’s arm, pulling himself up on his feet. Donnie quickly recovered, ready to hold on to his son once more, only to find that Gali had already taken a few steps away from him, still holding onto his arm. And then Gali let go. Both you and Donnie expected him to fall to the ground, followed by loud crying, but that did not happen. Instead Gali continued to walk towards you, laughing and screaming happily as he did so, before almost falling into your arms, you and Donnie staring at each other in shock.
“Gali’s walking!”, Donnie exclaimed, as if he did not fully believe it.
“He is”, you said, letting go of your young son, only for him to walk back to Donnie with more happy screaming.
“You’re walking!”, Donnie yelled excitedly, lifting Gali up for a bear hug, the young boy screaming and laughing all the way.
Michelangelo:
Tumblr media
Nothing could beat mornings like this. You and Mikey in the kitchen with Sunny in her high chair, eating alone together before the rest of the family woke up. Who would have thought that you and Mikey ever would become morning people? Well, neither you nor Mikey, but then you gave birth to a daughter that tended to rise with the sun every day, and there was nothing that would make her go back to sleep. But both of you had to admit it was nice, sitting just you three in the kitchen, engaging Sunny in small conversation, her small sounds and her finger that kept pointing everywhere with curiosity, without the rest of the family around. It wasn’t because you didn’t want the others around, no not all, but because when Mikey’s brothers and their partners woke up, then so did their toddlers. And as much as you loved your nephews and niece, it was nice with some time only for your little family, enjoying your early breakfast together.
Once all of you had finished eating, you would stay in the kitchen for a moment, waiting for the rest of the lair to wake up. During those moments, Mikey tended to take Sunny out of her highchair and set her on his lap, letting her play with his hands, the tails of his bandana, or whatever caught her wandering attention that morning. And today it was his thumb, her small fingers holding onto it as she made all the sounds she could think of.
“Mmmmm”, Sunny hummed, her small hands grabbing onto Mikey’s thumb, before putting it into her mouth with a small grin. “Mmmmmm”.
“Do you think she’s about to say her first word?”, Mikey asked, wiggling his thumb a little, making Sunny giggle. “I think she’ll say her first word today”.
“Yesterday you thought she was going to say her first word”, you smiled, chuckling at the drool that dripped from her mouth.
“Mmmmmm”, she continued, her bright blue eyes looking up at her father.
“What’s that?”, he asked, bouncing his leg slightly, making her giggle once again. “Are you about to say mommy?”
You rolled your eyes. For the past few weeks, Mikey had tried and tried his best, wanting Sunny’s first words to be your parental title. And why exactly? Well, because Mikey thought you deserved it. You gave birth to her, so at least her first words could be mommy.
“Mikey, she isn’t going to say mommy”, you said with a smile, shaking your head at your husband.
“Bet”, Mikey said, lifting Sunny up so that she was standing on his thigh with both his hands under her arms. “Come on, Sunshine, say mommy”.
“Mmmmmm”.
“Mikey”, you said in a teasing warning.
“Mmmmmm”, Sunny continued.
“Nono babe, she almost got it”, he said, his eyes never leaving her small face. “Come on, Sunny, say mommy. I know you can do it”.
“Mmmmm”, she said one more time, and then, suddenly. “Mikey!”
Mikey stared at Sunny in confusion while you broke out in laughter, Sunny giggling in the way she always did.
“No, no, Sunshine”, Mikey said with a chuckle of disbelief. “I’m daddy, not Mikey”.
“Mikey!”, she said with a big and bright smile, giggling even more at his confused expression. This was definitely not what he had expected, nor did he fully know how to react. But for a long time afterwards, no one was allowed to call him Mikey, until Sunny started calling him daddy.
271 notes · View notes