#fringe fanfic

[franofgreengables]

Hey Fringe fanfic readers. It's been forever I know but there was a fic I loved that I haven't been able to find in a while. I'm pretty sure it got deleted off of AO3, but I thought I'd check just in case someone knows what it's called and if it's still out there somewhere.

The premise was that Peter went Universe hopping looking for Olivia and he kept running into different versions of her. There was one universe where she and Astrid were together, there was one where John was still alive and one that was basically set in the wild West. Finally her learned that Olivia was special because she was a constant, that she was in every universe. While he was special because there was only one universe in which he grew up because he had been pulled.

If anyone knows what this fic was call and if it still exists somewhere I'd greatly appreciate it!

[agent-troi]

I’ve set up an automated ao3 feed for polivia fics🤗 all fringe fans go follow @ao3feed-polivia pls

[elialys]

Peter x Olivia - Gravity

I've been busy these last few days, posted TWO new (short) chapters to my "alternate season 2 P/O story in which they are a liiittle horny but also soft because P/O" 🤣

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

[emilylawsons]

Fringe: The Alphabet (Peter & Olivia’s Version) [1-2/26]

Rated: E

Slowly sharing my fics here. A new Polivia anthology with prompts based on letters A-Z. A little smut. A little angst. Lots of fluff at points. Letters A and B are posted!

Apart (adverb): away from one another in space or time

They don’t spend their nights apart from each other if they can help it. Not since Etta was born. Olivia can count on one hand the number of times she and Peter haven’t slept in the same bed in six years. It’s not an easy task, either, considering the hours they work and balancing those with being present with their daughter. They do their best to make it work, though, and it’s almost a security blanket—the knowledge that they don’t have to be in their most vulnerable states away from each other. It’s the one certainty they have.

So, when she’s called to Washington for a week, leaving her husband at home to look after Etta, the sheer emptiness of her hotel bed is debilitating.

She and Peter talk every night, even if it’s only for five minutes. Peter gets Etta on FaceTime for Olivia to help “tuck her in,” and it’s wonderful hearing their voices and seeing their faces. But at the end of the day, her sheets are cold, and she misses his arms around her. She misses their little girl sandwiched between them because she had a bad dream or just wanted to be with them. She misses the safety and comfort of having someone next to her.

Continue on AO3

[thevulcanbobdylan]

For no reason whatsoever, I wrote a Peter/Olivia thing. This rewatch is going to end me and my poor little heart

[depressopax]

hiii! im not sure if you write for gus (brba/bcs) but if you do, could i request a few headcanons (sfw or nsfw) of him with a gender neutral partner if possible :0 maybe qualities he finds attractive/would like in a partner, physically or personality wise or whatever you have in mind:] tysm ! i hope youre having a good one ♡

Tysm for the request!! <3 I made it into some relationship headcanons but tried mentioning what he likes in a partner etc… It may have turned out a bit dark lol, sorry ‘bout that 😭 Anywaysss hope ya like it! Have a good day anon!! 🫶

Gus Fring relationship headcanons

Fandom - Breaking Bad/Better call Saul

Gus x gn!reader - (N)SFW headcanons

Pairing: Gus Fring x gender-neutral reader Genre: Fluff, smut, (kinda angst too??), headcanons Warning(s): Slightly possessive Gus, cuss words. Sexual content (marked further down as “NSFW”, MDNI! Dom/sub dynamic, degradation. Words: 1.4k Summary: Being in a relationship with Gus Fring would include…  English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||

SFW

First time Gus saw you was at Los Pollos Hermanos.

You were there with some friends and you immediately caught his eye.

Maybe it was your smile, your eyes or the way you talked to your friends that made his heart skip a beat

That, or the fact you and him made eye contact at least 4 times. 

But because of his dangerous life and past relationship traumas, he let you slip through his fingers, to not drag you into his chaos.

Or so he thought at least.

Truth is, you felt a spark, too. There was something dangerous about him, but also something charming.

Curious as you were, you went to LPH more often, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man - eventually learning he’s the manager. 

Gus of course noticed you being there more often. Ignoring you got harder.

One day you decided to shoot your shot - the same day he decided to strike a conversation with you. 

You learned his name is Gustavo Fring.

There was something about his smile and way of talking that charmed you.

But he also seemed very reserved and troubled. He seemed afraid to answer your flirting and got really flustered from it.

Just as you were about to give up your flirting attempts, he surprised you by asking you out on a date.

Of course, you said yes.

Gus enjoys good food and luxury, so it was no surprise he took you to a 5-star restaurant for the first date - his treat.

Not having been on a “real date” in over a decade, Gus was a nervous wreck lmao

Luckily he is good at handling stress. You barely noticed the emotions he kept under the surface. 

The date went really well. Gus is a good listener and listened to you in a way that was rare.

Even when you got a bit too nerdy about your interests, he listened with a smile. 

 But it did make you a bit concerned when he dodged questions about his own personal life. 

He realized himself how weird that must've come across, getting anxious that you wouldn’t contact him again.

Luckily, you did. 

Gus kept taking you on dates. 

The more he got to know you, the harder he fell in love. 

Actually - he figured he was in love already after the first kiss. 

Once getting clarity in what he felt, he knew what he had to do - Telling you the truth about who he is.

The fear of losing you was big. 

���But the fear of you staying, becoming part of his dangers - was bigger.

He explained to you how he had fallen in love with you, before dropping the bomb.

You were shocked, of course. 

After some days of thinking about what he’d told you, you made a decision.

Upon telling him; Gus felt a wave of emotions: Confusion, happiness, relief but also anxiety. But he put all that aside. 

Gus officially became your boyfriend and you couldn’t be more happy - neither could he.

All dangers aside - Gus does everything to be “boyfriend material” lol

His love language is touch, and words of affirmation.

He doesn’t let a day go by without telling you how much he loves you. 

He always wants you close - just holding your hand makes him feel good. 

He also likes spoiling you - expensive gifts, homemade dinners, road trips with him etc… 

He basically spends all his spare-time with you.

You spend a lot of time in his house, with or without him.

He has money, enough to provide you safety. 

Because of his enemies, and dangerous life, Gus gets very overprotective and a bit possessive.

Ngl he’d probably hire a bodyguard for you whenever you are away in another town with friends/family 😭 Or ask Mike to keep an eye on you lol

He’d be too paranoid to openly be in a relationship with you - but tell a few people he really trusted. If he could, he’d tell the whole world tho. He loves you and it frustrates him to not be able to tell people.

Gus is very good at reading people, so he often can see if something is wrong.

He’s a good listener and tries to always see things from your POV

He rarely gets mad at you either. 

Most of the time he’s calm and understanding.

He tries to always be there for you, if not with advice, at least with support and to offer you comfort. 

He also gives really good hugs 😌✨

Same goes for your interests/hobbies. He learns for example how to crochet, paint or whatever so you can make it a date.

He’ll let you talk about things you like for hours

Gus is not the type of person that likes indoor activities. Of course he appreciates movie nights, but I feel like he enjoys spending time outdoors.

Going hiking, walks in the forest, sightseeing etc etc

Weather doesn’t really matter to him. He’s def one of those that tells you to “Dress depending on the weather 🤪🤪” 

He enjoys cooking food for you, but also with you.

He’ll teach you some old family recipes 

When eating, he lits candles and makes it cozy so it feels like a restaurant. 

Gus appreciates movie nights too. Snacks, wine and cuddles whilst watching something.

Gus is cheesy in the way of envisioning his future with you.

He knows that one day, he wants to marry you.

As for starting a family, he’d like that - if you want to have kids too, ofc.

Otherwise he’ll just be happy to marry you and always have you by his side.

To summarize: Gus is very overprotective when it comes to you, but his criminal lifestyle aside - he loves you deeply and a relationship with him would be passionate.

NSFW

I feel like he’s definitely a dom

But more of a soft dom.

He’s on top, always. Convincing him otherwise is not easy.

He can get pretty rough, but would never hurt you or make you uncomfortable.

His sex drive isn’t that high, but he makes an exception for you.

Besides, you just happen to turn him on a lot 🤭

He prefers to do it at home and in bed

However… If you happen to tease him when in public, he’ll find a private spot and just take you there. “You couldn’t wait until we got home? Pathetic” …As he thrusts into you and muffles your moans with his palm

He prefers to take you at a fast pace, one that’ll leave you breathless.

He has a lot of pent up frustrations and releases all tension in the bedroom. 

He’ll have you laying under him, pinning your wrist over your head as he makes you into a moaning mess.

He has a lot of stamina and can go at it for hours.

If he’s feeling rude, he’ll have you beg for him and/or plead for him to slow down to give you a break.

Only for him to laugh and tease you for it “My poor baby… Look at me.” “I’m not done with you just yet.” “Be good for me, my love.”

When it comes to you, he likes both praising and degrading you - doing so equally.

He’ll have sweet nicknames for you as well as insulting ones.

After sex, you’ll be covered in hickeys, which he’ll praise you for.

He prefers giving oral, merely because he’s in full control of your pleasure. 

When going down on you, he’s a tease.

He’ll have you begging for him to use his mouth on you.

And he knows how to do it, too.

Gus likes using his hands too, to stimulate your area or other body parts.

He’ll grab your hips, thighs etc roughly, hard enough to leave marks.

When receiving, he likes being in control too.

He’ll hold your head still and move his hips to his own liking.

Gus prioritizes aftercare. He wouldn’t go to sleep without being reassured you’re ok after a rough session.

He’ll clean you and the bed up, run a bath for you, cuddle, give massage etc

Although he can be meanie during sex, he gives affection, praise and love afterwards, putting the dominant act away. 

He falls asleep after you. 

Since he’s rough in bed, you often end up falling asleep faster than usual - especially when he hugs you lovingly too. 

He likes seeing your sleeping figure and falling asleep knowing that you’re all his… 

[bowieandqueen11]

Jesse Pinkman Being Jealous Would Include...

Request: omg so glad you’re writing for breaking bad rn cause i literally just started watching it and i’m obsessed 😭 could you do jealous jesse pinkman please? (hcs or a fic whatever you want)

Oh my gosh yay I'm really glad you started watching it!! If you haven't already you 100% have to watch Better Call Saul afterwards it's one of my favourite shows of all time! :)

Warning: spoilers for later seasons of the show! Mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking/alcohol, mentions of burn injuries, light swearing, mentions of trauma!

(I do not own Breaking Bad or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @tilldeathdousart.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Baby boy, baby boy. meow meow cat man. its so hard writing you as jealous because i feel if anyone started flirting with your s/o you would just break down crying and honestly same we love an in touch with his emotions king loml honestly

Jesse has always been the jealous type. Hot headed. Easily wound up by bullies ten times his size and a thousand times more ferocious and cutthroat than he had ever tried to be. Almost as easily as he had slipped into that easy routine of being ass over heels, devastatingly in love with you. The kind where every night, he tosses and turns in his mildew spelling bed, plagued by thoughts of doing nothing all day but sloppily kissing your lips between blunts. The kind where he has to stare up at the sky after he's been caught staring, until his retinas burn the sunlight into the back of his skull, yet the pain is nowhere near as cataclysmic as the hurricane your smile brings to his heart.

He had far too many years to temper it, to try and smother his love, and yet over time he seemed to get worse and worse and worse at stopping it from choking at his throat. He wasn't so bad during high school: sure, you found him a little odd, the way he would brag to his friends in the corridor about how he'd never 'studied a day in my life, man!', and yet in Chemistry he would be chewing the edge of his pen and scribbling furiously down on his paper during the end of term quiz.

He was terrible at tempering it, and you were terrible at seeing it.

Little did you know, that all the words he scratched down with his shaking hand were either complete guesses, or absolute gibberish. He had no idea what the paper was even supposed to be on, but you were sitting beside him, and so he wanted to look as smart in front of you as he possibly could. Bless his heart, to everyone else he was so obvious: Mr White would just peer over his shoulder and shake his head, his mouth in a lined frown as he watched Jesse peer like a meerkat over the side of the desk to stare at you from behind his slipping down beanie.

Some of his friends, his 'gang' as he liked to call them, were snickering from a couple of benches behind at the way he was trying to look clever by placing his fist under his chin, but his elbow kept slipping off the edge thanks to his baggy hoody. Even Justin Treller, the guy sitting to your right, and the kid Jesse was getting more and more annoyed with every time he leant over to whisper something in your ear, was evidently enjoying the way the tips of Jesse's ears were beginning to burn with embarrassment.

Eventually, when you began giggling at the things Justin was leering further and further towards you to murmur, Jesse began to snap. That's when he began doing stupid shit to make you laugh, like plugging the tube in and flicking his hand through the Bunsen Burner flame to try and impress you with his pain tolerance. When Jesse inevitably ended up being sent to the nurse's office for such a dumbass idea, he was wincing so harshly at the pain that he nearly tore through his bottom lip, leaving a nice scar. You volunteered to bring him down, spending half of your lunch period taking care of him.

He sat caved in on himself, trying to make himself as small a target as possible on one of the fold out chairs. He was obviously embarrassed, by the way his voice kept cracking each time you tightened some of the new dressing over his fingers. Mainly he was talking to try and distract you from the way his hands were shaking, so desperate to reach out and brush over your cheek that he nearly sobs with the effort. He also doesn't want you to notice how pathetic he looks: how he so subconsciously prepares himself for the mental barrage from his mother, or the physical threats from the people he deals with out in the streets, that he looks like a meek kitten sitting there with his palms down on his knobbly kneecaps.

He had known then, of course. He had known, as you pressed your lips chastely against the back of his sore knuckles, and giggled at the way his cheeks immediately flushed like a blooming snapdragon, that you would always be the love of his life. The only thing, behind the emotional neglect, the gossip, the drugs, the constant damn pressure, that he truly had chosen to care about. Which is why, after he bought his parents house and asked if you'd want to live in it, free of rent, he was shocked that you said yes.

Good things don't usually happen to this boy. And seeing how you were the best of all, he had to swallow his heart and just smile at your words, terrified he was going to ruin you.

I mean, living there at first had been easy enough. You had been round (or smuggled in by Jesse) so many times since that day in the nurse's office, that it felt like a second home to you. His parents, while they had still been speaking to Jesse, had absolutely adored you. They would always be teasing their son during family dinners about how he had been saving up doing his *wink wink* 'paper rounds' late at night, just so he could save up for the big wedding he was planning. Blushing ferociously, Jesse would duck his head down until his forehead banged against the tablecloth, begging his mom with that tired drawl to 'please... just stop'.

Somehow, somehow you just... never saw it. Perhaps you were laughing too much at the way Jesse's father was pretending to elbow his son to notice. Maybe, you were trying to cover your own eyes in mortification. I'm not sure, but I do know that you never seemed to notice the gut-wrenching look of pure hope Jesse would throw your way, once he had mustered the strength to peek his head up again.

While he shook his head and bit at the corner of his fingernail, while he poked and prodded at his escaping garden peas, while he took an awkward sip of his water and pretended to glance around the table. He was always looking your way, as if you had tied his heart to a string, his compass pointing him north, directing him back to his true home. His eyes would just linger on you like a listless man possessed from between the prongs of his fork, stabbing harshly at the plate in time with his thudding heart.

His heart sure was beating now. So ferociously, he thought it was about to splinter and explode out of his chest, implanting the chards everywhere until they were all that was left in memory of him. He knew you were getting sick of the constant parties. Of him being dazed 24/7. Of not knowing why he lashed out all the time. He knew it wasn't fair, but every time he closed his eyes he just saw Gale's pleading eyes beginning to burn itself into the safe memories he kept in the back of his head. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't breathe from all the sobbing. He couldn't even think in peace. So he just bit the cap off another beer bottle and fell down heavily on the edge of his brand new thousand dollar sofa, imprisoning himself in self-isolation despite being lost amidst a sea of people.

It was right at that moment you decided to try and brave down the stairs, having to hold onto the bannister for dear life as you jumped down each step, the bass vibrating through the walls until they shook. As you peered over mountains of baggie hoodies and tripped over lumps of passed out people on the floor in your effort to try and find Jesse, you accidentally bumped into the back of one of Skinny Pete's friends. You apologised as he turned around, which would have been fine if he hadn't taken one look at you and decided you were his main entertainment for the night. The smell of stale weed and lukewarm beer radiated off his sour breath as he leant down to rasp against the shell of your ear, sending a chill rolling down your back. You tried to compress your shoulders and squeeze past him, but the guy would not stop trying to grab onto your waist and pull you back, staring very blatantly down at your chest.

You knew Jesse had been shoved into the deep end of some shady business recently, but the way he had been acting over the last while had been frightening you. So despondent. So careless. To come home every day and find him almost completely blazed out of his mind on the floor, seemingly not recognising you as he failed to respond to your greeting. Not realising that as soon as you wandered into the kitchen to put the groceries away, those desperate, love strung eyes were following your heels. He nearly cried out for you, voice hoarse and heavy in the back of his throat.

If he had mustered the energy, he would have gotten onto his hands and knees and crawled like a baby on the floor to follow after you. The way you would beg him at 2 a.m. to turn down the music, and he would just grab at your hands and try to get you to join in his terrible on the spot jump-dancing. You never discerned how heartbroken he seemed to be when you jolted back from him as if shot; his bottom lip would quiver and he would sink to his knees when your bedroom door finally slammed shut. 

He couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore. First it had been his parents. Then the drugs. Then Mr. White, Gus, Gale, Mike, Saul, the pressure just kept building up and up and up and he didn't know how to escape it. Too cowardly to run away, just as he had always been resigned into believing you could never love him back. Too submissive. Too easily used. And now, now there was barely anything left of him. Sometimes, sometimes that scared kid would try to crawl out of his throat when he was alone at night, but he would just choke on his tears in the darkness until he had drowned him again.

So what does he do? Gets off his face drunk, and throws another mind numbingly monotonous party until the walls start spinning and he doesn't even know who's coming through those doors anymore. Hell, he still half expects his mother to come busting through, chiding him for having drugs in the house. For having you in the house, with such company present. For being a coward.

Now he had just brought more trouble on himself. If the company he now decided to keep didn't get his hands off you in approximately ten seconds, you were going to knock him on his ass in front of all his little buddies.

Thankfully, Jesse seemed to have a sixth sense as to when you were in trouble, and he had been steadily keeping his beady eyes on you ever since you reached the top step. Before you could shove the guy back, Jesse's already doing it for you. As soon as he’s by your side you can tell he’s wound up: not by the way he comes striding over, shouting over the beat and lowering his head as if he’s about to headbutt the guy. Not from the way his hand flies in his face, or the swears, the long string of increasingly ridiculous ‘bitch’ related insults he calls him, but from the way he looks so, so tired. He looks on the verge of tears, his eyes bloodshot as he brushes gently past you to start shoving the guy out the front door, yelling above the music to shepherd everyone else out as well.

'Jesse... seriously, you need to tell me what's going on, right now.'

When the door finally slams shut, you know him well enough that the best thing to do is just let his head cool down for a minute. When he was younger, that used to involve ringing you up whenever his parents had threatened to kick him out again; you would come clambering over the picket fencing lining his immaculately manicured side-yard to see him sitting on the edge of his windowsill, smoke rings blowing out the side of his mouth as he waited in the dark for you to arrive. His hand would shake as he hefted you up from the piping by his bedroom wall, awkwardly landing you down half on his feet as he would just stay beside you all night. He would speak from time to time, asking you about what you wanted to do once you managed to escape from this dump ass town. But mainly, he just leaned his head back and listened to your voice, gazing up at the faraway stars as if it were the only place he could possibly be truly free.

But now, he was far worse off than you ever could have imagined. He hunched over, as if he had a spiked collar weighted around his neck as he lumbered past you, crawling down onto the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest as he sat back against his brand new surround sound speaker, ducking his head into the gap and clawing at the back of his neck until you worried he was about to draw blood.

It was horrifying, hearing how he gasped between retching sobs as you sunk down on the floor next to him.

You tentatively reached out to place a hand on his back, kicking an empty pizza box out of the way with your foot so you could sit with the side of your thigh touching his. As soon as you made contact, he leapt at you like a rabid dog, clawing and clenching and biting his teeth into his shirt as he fell onto your chest.

‘Please. Please don’t leave me’, he gasped out between heaving cries, looking up at you with eyes so dejected, it were as if someone had stifled out the blinding stars once in them with dark clouds. Bits of saliva stuck between his teeth as he screwed his eyes shut once again and began bawling even harder, falling like a broken bird as you held the back of his head and guided it down to rest just above your breast bone.

‘I love you’, he starts sobbing, fists bunching up the material at the back of your shirt. It was you. It always has been. And if you walked out that door with the rest of them, he had nothing left. He would willingly roll over, and let himself just rot away. 

You sure as hell saw it now.

Eventually, after you rock him back and forth against the floorboards for a while and just cradle him in a way he’s never experienced during his years on earth, he becomes more placid against you. It helps that at some point, you had absentmindedly begun to trace the silvery wisp of an outline that had been left on his bottom lip all those years ago, your pointer finger glancing back and forth as it quivered. He was almost entirely curled against you now, pretending to be asleep so you wouldn’t stop, but his breath froze when he heard you whisper ‘I love you too’ against the top of his hair.

He’ll feel really sheepish the next day when he finally wakes up, peering round the corner with his hand behind his head when he spots you trying to straighten out the crick in your neck after a night spent on the floor. He’ll come apologizing with his go to breakfast: a childhood favourite of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup; they were the kind his mom would make if she were in a good mood at the weekends. When he would sit at the table the morning after you slept over, watching stupid cartoons his brother had put on the small television, grinning to himself as some dripped down his chin. It had been the happiest he had been in his life.

Although he still has that boyish, soulful smile on his face as he sits criss-cross down beside you, you can tell that he’s still plagued by how wet his eyes are: how heavily he’s blinking.

‘I really do love you, you know that right?’, you whisper, taking the plate from him.

‘Yeah, I do.’

Suddenly your fork goes crashing to the floor, forgotten about as you lean forward to kiss him, nearly surprising the heck out of him as his teeth clash against yours. He’s quick to reach up and tenderly, oh god, so gently cradle the side of your cheeks, but that’s soon abandoned as he readily allows you to guide him until his back is against the floorboards. You clamber over until you’re almost straddling him, beginning to smile yourself as you feel him grin against your top lip, the soft peals of his giggles breaking out against the surface of your tongue as you dip down against him.

And suddenly, his life seemed like it was worth fighting for again. He was going to get out of this. He was going to escape. He was going to win. Not for himself, but for you.

[itfollows666-blog]

So I created this epic crossover of Jason Bourne, Fringe, and the DC universe (mostly Young Justice). does anyone wanna hear the details/read it? Interested?

The doc I have it on is literally 200pgs +. just in case you can’t tell, this is a result of all my hyper fixations colliding in a giant hadron collider and creating an abomination.

please like if you want to see it!

[likethe-month]

Greetings BrBa/BCS fandom I have some thoughts

Whenever my friend and I finished season 4 of Breaking Bad I really started to think... wouldn't Gustavo Fring make a terrifying and effective yandere? (was I even paying attention to seasons 2 and 3 smh...)

He has eyes everywhere and basically unlimited manpower. We saw just how ruthless and powerful he was throughout the show, so reader would basically be screwed.

Once involved in such a dangerous game, the only way out would probably be death.

You could try to disappear, but the moment before getting into the car to escape, you'd hear the cock of a handgun. You'd turn to see one of Gus's men with a hard look on his face. He wouldn't shoot, but if faced with no other choice, he might aim for a leg.

The guard would bring you to wherever Gus wanted through a silent and tense car ride. You would be sat down only to be face-to-face with the dangerous man who had been the object of your deepest fears as of recent. Forced to stare into his endlessly cold eyes, you would try your best not to tremble.

He would lay out his conditions and expect you to fully accept them. Say yes and you're treated like royalty, say no and you might be subjected to "further persuasion."

Trust me, you might want to consider saying yes.

[sageisdark]

sweet dreams (pt. 1)

↳ when he finally gets his hands on you.... (18+)

pairing: Gus Fring x reader

wordcount: 500+

warnings: reader has a vagina; hints of drugging, intox, somno, bondage, blindfold, dubcon, nipple play, teasing, reader has a bush & a big clit, petnames "darling" and "sweetheart" used, Gus refers to himself as "Papa"

“Shhh darling, I’ve got you now…"

Whispers echoed above you, the darkness covering your eyes may have clouded your sight but you could still feel. Your nude body was exposed to the cold air, goosebumps traveling across every inch of your skin. Your nipples were painfully erect, sensitive and throbbing for more sensation. You were spread apart, with your limbs tied to each of the corners of the bed. Deft fingers crawled over you, exploring, wandering, while he murmured sweet praises under his breath. The voice was unfamiliar, but he moved around your body as if he’d been here before, touching you in spots that only you knew of, causing you to wriggle and squirm underneath his grasp. 

You were still half-asleep, a heavy drowsiness seeping into your bones. Everything was fuzzy. Memory didn’t serve you here, it didn’t allow you to recall the time, the day, the last thing you did, who this was touching you….

“What is…?” Your question became lost in a gasp, your back immediately arching off the bed as you felt a wet, warm mouth latch onto your breast. A tongue skillfully swirled around your nipple before exploring the patterns written into your areolas. You cried out at the feeling, flashes of lightning striking inside from your nipple straight down to your cunt. 

It was as though he wanted you to beg, to plead for more. He didn’t dare to move to your other nipple, no matter how hard you writhed in his hold, eager to use your own fingers to pinch and pull at the tender nub. The stirring deep within your belly grew increasingly intense as time passed, your toes curled and bottom lip sore from biting it so hard. 

The mouth on your nipple loudly released itself, leaving your tit wet and marked with gooseflesh. Suddenly, you felt a gust of cold air directly hitting your breast, the wetness making the fire burn so much hotter in you. Your cunt throbbed in your panties, already so wet that you could feel the lace sticking to your swollen lips. Desperate hips jerked up, blindly searching for the source of relief above you, your clit poking a slight tent as it grew. 

A kiss on your clothed cunt had you nearly losing your mind, especially when he paused, taking a few moments to deeply take in your scent. A warm, musky smell emanated from your pussy and it seemed to be his favorite thing. With each inhale taken, you could feel the heat of his exhales against you, further warming and loosening you up. Fingers pulled your panties down your body, taking them off to reveal your bushy cunt, the thick, curly brown hair grown out as if you were one of those 70s dirty magazine vixens. Your big clit pulsed in the air, now unknowingly being ogled by the man kneeling in between your legs. Hands landed on your waist, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs

“Relax, sweetheart…Papa’s got you, I’ve got you.”

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[devilishcupid]

8 O'CLOCK | Gustavo Fring

☆ premise: you and gus confront each other after you call the cops on his dealers.

☆ pairing: gustavo fring x gn!spouse!reader

☆ warnings: angst, angry gus & reader, possessive!gus mention (sorta? idk)

☆ a/n: been thinking about that plot point where jesse found out that gus' men used a kid to deal and i just couldn't resist a "what if" scenario with gus' spouse.

7:50

Knowing your husband's line of work, you dreaded the day he might never come home. But tonight, this was the first time you wished he wasn't.

A part of you felt like an idiot. You knew Gus had eyes and ears on you 24/7. He had the latest security systems in place at home. He had Mike following you around when he wasn't doing cartel-related work. He made sure he knew your every move. So, of course, you knew he had your phone bugged.

7:55

But you weren't going to keep quiet. When you found out he was more than just a restaurant chain owner, you made him promise one thing—no children. He swore he had never and will never use children for his business. And you believed him.

You could've gone to the nearest phone booth. But you didn't. You called 911 on your phone. You wanted him to know—no, you needed him to know you did it.

8:00

On time, as always. You heard your husband's car pull up on the driveway just as you finished setting up the table for dinner. You approached the entryway, breath hitching as you wondered what he'll do. You knew not to mistake his calm demeanor for gentleness.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened. You expected Gus to come in and give you a look that could kill. You didn't expect him to smile and pull you in an embrace with one arm.

"How are you?" Gus asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"I—I'm fine," you stammered, confused by his demeanor.

"Good. I'll go freshen up, then I'll join you for dinner."

You watched in amazement as he headed for the bedroom. How was he acting as if nothing was wrong?

The night went on the way they usually did. The two of you ate the dinner you made while talking about the day you both had—minus the cartel business and the 911 call, of course. Afterwards, you washed the dishes while he cleaned up the table and put the leftovers in the fridge.

After cleaning the last of the utensils and leaving them on the rack to dry, you turned around to find Gus staring at you. Gone was the warmth he showed you tonight, replaced by a coldness that not even you had seen before.

"Why did you do it?"

When you didn't answer, he approached you until he had you pressed in between his body and the sink.

"I asked you a question—why did you do it?"

"You know why." You responded, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

His jaw clenched, and you could hear a hint of frustration in his voice as he said, "I didn't know they were using children."

Your lips formed a thin line. You didn't believe a word of it. For a man who was three steps ahead of everyone else, how could he not know?

"You keep tabs on your partner, but you don't keep tabs on your own men. You expect me to believe that?" You spat as you glared at him.

You started to walk away, not before Gus wrapped his hand around your forearm and pulled you back against the counter. You tried to pull your hand away from his grasp, but his fingers tightly gripped your wrist, nails digging into your skin.

"Do you truly believe I would deliberately use children in my operations?" He growled, anger dripping in every word. "You think that lowly of me?"

"That's the problem, Gustavo—I don't know!" You snapped, your voice so loud the neighbors would've heard you if it weren't for the soundproofing measures placed in your home. "I have no idea what happens in your line of work. I rely on your word because I trusted you. I thought you would never lie to me. But today, you did. Now I wonder what else you've been lying to me about."

He closed his eyes, his hand loosening its grip on your arm. After a few moments, Gus looked at you again. "You may not believe me, but it's the truth. I didn't know. But as soon as I found out, I dealt with the problem immediately. No more children, I made sure of it. This I promise you."

Finally letting go of your arm, he stepped back and started walking away from you. Before he could disappear into his office, you called out his name. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you.

"How did you deal with it?"

"Do you need to know?"

[agent-troi]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fringe (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Bishop/Olivia Dunham Characters: Peter Bishop, Olivia Dunham Additional Tags: Episode: s04e15 A Short Story About Love (Fringe), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Parenthood, Love Summary:

“He was your son, Peter. It’s okay to feel like you were robbed of something, because you were." Olivia paused. “In a way, we both were.”

Peter looked up at her then, his heart suddenly in his throat. “So, is… is that something you would’ve wanted? I mean, if it had really been you?”

 Peter tells Olivia about Henry.

[elialys]

Post-Bloodline story I wrote in 2011 and edited in 2023 just so I could post it on AO3. Don't look at me I'm just going insane at this point 😂

Olivia fears for her son more than she has ever feared for anyone else. She supposes it comes with loving him more than she has ever loved anyone else.

She thought she knew about love, a few months ago. All of her assumptions have been shaken, broken, reshaped, leaving her feeling raw and exposed.

She’d always loved others in a way that had been quite selfish, and she has no shame in admitting it. Loving others had brought something to her life. Some excitement, some warmth, a sense of stability. She cared deeply for people, and wanted to protect them, but in the end, she was also playing to win.

The love she feels for her son is terrifying, because it’s a selfless kind of love.

She fears for him, every second of every day. She fears for what has been, for what could have happened, and for what will happen to him in this crumbling world.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

"Get out of my room!" / "You're a bad liar"

@summer-of-bad-batch week 6 alt prompt/week 5 main prompt

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Shep, Lyana, Omega Set after season 3 when everyone is living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~310 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Teenage girl sleepovers should not be interrupted by well-meaning fathers.

When the shrieking from Lyana’s room increased in both volume and pitch, Shep rose from his armchair to go investigate.

“Girls?” he questioned by way of greeting, reaching out to push the door fully open. “Is everything okay!”

He had barely glanced into the room before his daughter was on her feet, planting both hands on his chest and shoving him backwards.

“Dad!” Lyana’s voice was tinged with expected teenage embarrassment. “Get out of my room!”

“Sorry!” Shep couldn’t help a chuckle as he backpedalled. As soon as he was clear of the threshold Lyana dropped her grip and quickly slammed the door in his face.

He waited a moment before leaning towards the now-shut portal, calling, “Is everything okay in there?”

Muffled shrieks of laughter. That wasn’t reassuring.

“Everything’s fine,” came Lyana’s voice in the end. “You can’t just barge in here! What if me and Omega were changing?”

Shep rolled his eyes. He was not reassured.

“Okay,” he said with trepidation. “Let me know if you need anything.”

*

Lyana and Omega sat with hands stuffed in their mouths, trying to control their laughter until they heard Lyana’s father retreat.

The moment they felt safe they fell into hysterical giggles on the floor once more, faces aching from laughter.

“I’m so sorry Omega!” said Lyana again. “I thought I could cut a straight line!”

Omega flopped onto her back, grabbing the mirror once more and holding it up, looking at herself this way and that.

“It’s not so bad,” she reassured her friend. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

Her reflection looked back at her, a slanting fringe skimming her eyebrow on one side but rising to reveal her forehead on the other.

“You’re a bad liar. It's awful.” Lyana pounced on her, reaching to grab the scissors. “Stay still… I’m sure I can get it even if I try…”

[moxley-master]

Moxley-Master Masterlist

Just a collection of all the fanfics I’ve written on this account! I am active on my secondary acc little-wicked10

🥵 - Smut (18+ only)

💔 - Angst

Little-Wicked10 Masterlist

Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley

Perks (Dean Ambrose x ofc) - 🥵When he’s not in the ring, he’s the lead guitarist in his band. Dean doesn’t exactly get to enjoy all the perks of being a rockstar until he meets a girl he plans getting back to his hotel and rocking her world.

Good Morning (John Shaw x ofc) -��💔 John Shaw promises his girlfriend he’ll always come home to her, but they both need some reassuring after he gets shot for the second time.

Slumber Party (Dean Ambrose x ofc) - 🥵Hadley and the guys plan a scary movie night, but Roman and Seth invite their girlfriends ruining friends ONLY night. That leaves Dean and Hadley to protect each other from the scary movies.

Mojo Rawley

Shut Up! (Mojo x ofc) - 🥵While Gronk and Mojo are downstairs in the gym getting hyped for another match, Mojo’s girl is upstairs trying to sleep. When she finally has enough, she goes downstairs in nothing but Mojo’s old football jersey and tells them to shut up. Mojo is surprised and oddly turned on by his angry girlfriend.

[dangerously-human]

I’ve seen your premise for the coparenting across the bridge fic but I don’t think I’ve seen a snippet, so if you’re willing to share👀💜. also skull office au and Lockwood in peacock mode. ^-^

Coparenting across the bridge: Ooh, yes, let me see if I can find any snippets of that one I haven't shared before! Little challenging just because I haven't actually worked on very much of it yet, but I do like what I have so far.

She throws herself onto the couch. It could be hours or days later when she pulls herself up and goes to the kitchen, but instead of grabbing something from the cupboard to tide her over till dinner like she intended - it takes so little to trigger the nausea still, and she’s been snacking more than ever before in her life - muscle memory forces a tumbler into her hands, brings her feet to the liquor cabinet before she catches herself and stands stock-still but for the glass twirling from side to side, catching the light when she holds it just so. She stares longingly at a bottle of whiskey, enough to start asking herself some questions she really doesn’t want to answer. She’s more surprised than satisfied at the sound of the glass shattering, having missed the impulse to fling it on the floor. Even her own body is out of her control these days. In decidedly un-Olivia-like fashion, she collapses back onto the couch and cries. That’s where Peter finds her once he’s finally able to leave and make his way home. [...] “Olivia,” Peter says, arm gently encircling her shoulders. The way he says her name alone could break her today. She thinks of the glass fragments on the kitchen floor and flinches. “Hey,” he says softly. “Olivia, talk to me.”

This one starts out really, really painful, because part of what I really want to fix is that our triangle of Peter and the Olivias can all be angry with one another, and Peter can also acknowledge how deeply messed up it was, what was done to him. The fluff comes later, and I haven't let myself write that yet.

Skull office menace AU: An office AU, where they're all working generic white collar jobs (different agencies are different teams within the organization), except for some unexplained reason the skull is still a skull in a jar - though in this 'verse, everyone can hear him. He is an incorrigible gossip, sometimes a creep, and an utter menace, and I love him dearly.

Lockwood in peacock mode: A drabble sequence of Lockwood trying to impress Lucy in the "shift era" between TCS and TEG. It opens thus:

One of the best things Lockwood has noticed since Lucy came home is just how much she notices. Lucy watches him, and Lockwood finds he quite likes being watched. He likes knowing she's looking, and what's more, he's increasingly certain she likes what she sees. So he keeps giving her reasons to look.