#he tripped har har

[fishytehfeesh]

Made an attempt at dynamic posing

It looks

Fine

[bookrat]

Pretty sure my little man has a case of abundism affecting the marble tabby coat under all those white splotches

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[enigmaris]

DPxDC idea that has been floating around my head for a few months now:

Gotham, given its whole... thing with Lazurus Pools and general bad vibes, has a ghostly representative. Lady Gotham, when she bothers to be coporeal, looks like an influential lady from the 1920s, straight art deco elegance. A real classy girl.

Jazz is touring college campuses around the US. She has full ride offers from Gotham University, Metroplis College, and Star City State, to name a few. Danny, upon hearing that his sister is going to GOTHAM of all cities, decides he is going on this trip with her. He might be only 15, but his big sister isn't getting mugged while he has half an afterlife left to live!

Lady Gotham is all a flutter! Why the last ghost king was so frumpy! King Phantom is so handsome and powerful, and he is coming to her city. She absolutely has to show off her best side! She feels like a teenaged girl getting her home ready before a new beau comes to visit. She's flustered, she's nervous.

Meanwhile, John Constatine wakes up with cosmic alarm bells going off because something really, really bad is happening. He investigates to dicsover that for the past three days Gotham has not had a single crime.

No murders, muggings, hell not even a single jay walker!

Gotham the most cursed place on the North Or South American continent is suddenly more squeaky clean than whatever small farm town Superman grew up in.

No crimes, no smog in the air. Crime Lords seemingly gone in a puff of smoke, Assassins asleep in their beds.

Its so freaky. Even Batman is spooked and he is never spooked by anything.

Constantine is certain some demon or other nefarious being is harnessing Gothams cursed energy for some evil plot. Gathering the power to use it like a nuclear blast. Batman is concerned about mass mind control.

Lady Gotham is doing the metaphysical equivalent of hiding all of your stuff in a closet before a guest comes over because you dont have time to actually clean. She had to shoulder the thing closed! She just knows that when the lock fails there will be a huge mess.

Jazz and her family are just surprised about how nice Gotham U's campus is. She'd heard it was so dark and dangerous, but everyone is smiling and pleasant to her! Danny is just happy Jazz is safe from various villains.

So we have Batman investigating his rogues gallery for mind control plots, Constatine hunting for demons, Jazz and her family taking a walking tour of Gotham U, and Lady Gotham using every bit of her ghostly powers to make sure her damned, cursed city doesnt embarrass her in front of her crush!

[liliacamethyst]

Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

��You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

���Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 “Webs of Fate”

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

[quarterlifekitty]

hello!! love your writing so much 💗

which guys do you think are more gullible? like could be guilt tripped or manipulated into doing things? and most importantly, which ones are faking going along with it so that they can turn the tables on you later on?

ok so, obvious but

cw: manipulation (this time it's reader doing it lol)

Most gullible award goes to Soap. He's the most outwardly emotional and completely wears his heart on his sleeve. He's obedient to a fault and he loves to please, so while it might not always be called manipulation, it would be really easy to lead him on if you wanted to get him to do things for you. Would Ghost let you do that to him? Not in a million years.

König is also incredibly easy to manipulate and guilt trip. He feels naturally guilty, anxious, and insecure over your relationship. He has constant imposter syndrome and is not-so-secretly terrified that you'll realize what he's really like, and will leave him. You could very easily harness that fear and desperation to cling to you directly into control and get him to do things for you.

Ghost and Gaz both know when someone is tricking them. Gaz more or less always knows because he's an excellent reader of tone and intention. Ghost believes he always knows, but this isn't true. While it is much harder to manipulate him, he does have his own weaknesses, and if you know him well enough and have enough talent for acting sincere, you might be able to push just the right combination of buttons to get him to do what you want. But most of the time? Any "successful" manipulation of Gaz or Ghost will come back to bite you ten times as hard.

Nikolai, Price, and Rudy will do what you want, but it has nothing to do with manipulation-- you both know what's going on. It's an exchange. Nikolai's servitude is condescending, there's this sort of edge that implies he's doing this because you can't do it on your own, his competence somehow supersedes yours. Price likes to play the role of the "whipped" husband, it fits perfectly into his sort of nuclear-family-dynamic fantasy (@/pricegouge made a post about him preening when his wife calls him "well trained" in front of her friends and I believe in that 100%). Rudy is just plain worshiping you, and gets enough satisfaction from that on its own, really.

[lipglossanon]

April Showers

Real Dad!Leon S. Kennedy x real daughter!reader

A Little More Savory tier commission from @ao3-rex1223

Word Count: 2365 (I went over! 🫣)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE, father/daughter incest, nicknames, dirty talk, kissing, shower sex, grinding, nipple play, breeding kink, lactation kink (mentioned), unprotected sex, creampie

Proofread ✍️

The weather app on your phone is nothing but a filthy liar. 

“Sunny with a partly cloudy afternoon, my ass,” you mutter out loud. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” Your dad glances over to you, the downpour soaking his hair until the fringe lay flat on his forehead. 

You keep your eyes firmly above his neck, a Herculean feat since you wouldn’t mind following the water as it drips down his shirt—nearly opaque now and showcasing his mouth-watering pecs. It’s been a stupid, invasive thought that you can’t shake since moving closer to home after graduating. Your dad’s been helping you out around the house, fixing things up, and during one of those times, you accidentally stumbled on him half naked in your bathroom. 

It really wouldn’t have been a big deal; he got covered in some kinda gunk from cleaning the gutters and decided to take a shower before heading back home. Not thinking about it twice, you opened the door to hand him a towel, only to be met with his flexing back muscles and tight ass. He’s been haunting your dreams, whether you wanted him to or not. 

Since then, you’ve been keeping a catalog on what makes him so hot; suffice it to say, the brain rot hasn’t abated in the slightest. 

“Oh, nothing,” you sigh. “How much longer til we make it back to the cabin?”

He glances down at his smart watch, the small face bright in the gloom. “GPS says about another quarter mile.”

Groaning, you tip your head back, raindrops smattering across your face and down your neck. “Who’s bright idea was it to hike today?”

Leon grins, "Believe it was you this time, squirt.”

Trudging forward, you shake your head, “Yuck, you know I hate that nickname.”

“Come on,” your dad needles you, laughing at your sour face. “It’s cute.”

“Uh huh,” you roll your eyes, then gesture to the trail in front of you. “Following your lead here, pops.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand at you and steps out in front. “Make your old man slug it out first. I get it.”

Rolling your eyes again, you give his broad shoulders a light push, meaning it solely as a joke—something you’ve done a thousand times before—however, because of the sudden deluge of water, the trail is nothing but a slippery, muddy mess, and he loses his balance. 

He begins to fall backwards, and you try to catch him, but it’s a moot point; he just has too much weight on you. Both of you crash down onto the ground, Leon sprawled on top of you, leaving you both coated in mud. Wincing, you try to raise up at the same time Leon turns on his side, and you end up pinned underneath his body. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you valiantly stifle the whine in your throat. It’s unfair to have your hot dad pressing you into the ground, pelvis to pelvis, while mud and leaves are seeping into your clothes. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs a little deprecatingly as he finally hoists himself up, stretching a hand out toward you. “Guess we’ll need to clean up in the outdoor shower.”

Heart tripping over itself, you nod, “Sure.”

Turning his back to you, he curses under his breath, “Good thing it’s insulated, huh.”

Head dizzy at the thought of seeing your dad strip down in front of you, you can only cough out a strangled yep. Shooting a look over his shoulder, you smile tightly. 

“Must be a frog in my throat,” you joke weakly. 

It’s enough to make him grin and chuckle. 

“Well, Kermit, let’s get outta here.”

“Does that make you Miss Piggy?”

“Har, har, aren’t you funny?”

“Learned from the best.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, only broken up by the sound of rain and your trampling footsteps. Making it back to the cabin, you follow behind your dad as he walks to the lean-to built onto the side of the building. A shower stall’s setup alongside the house, protected from the elements by the sheltered roof. Glancing at it, it doesn’t seem like a lot, but it's fairly spacious inside with a little shower bench. 

“C’mon,” Leon nods his head at the stall, kicking his boots off and starting to unbutton his jeans. “We’ll both hop in in our undies and get clean in one go. Save time, so we can get started on dinner and warm up.”

You feel faint, blood surging hotly through your veins. “Um, s-sure. Quick and easy, right?”

He chuckles, “That’s the spirit, squirt.”

Arousal dampening a smidge from the silly nickname, it revs back up when he turns his back to you and bends over to take off his jeans and socks. Biting your lip, you press the dough of your thighs together, eyes drinking in his toned form. Once he’s down to his briefs, he steps into the shower stall, holding the door open as he cuts on the water. 

“Hurry it up, sweetheart, haven’t got all day,” he sing songs. 

In no time at all, you stand next to your dad wearing only a sports bra and boy shorts, brain overrun with thoughts of his half naked body. You bite back a gasp when his hand comes up to press between your shoulder blades, ushering you into the shower. He steps in behind you and shuts the door. 

It’s wide but not very deep due to the bench. As you both try to rinse off, you’re rubbing up against your dad in an almost obscene way. You really aren’t doing it on purpose, but he finally grabs you by the hips and stills your movement with a cut off groan. 

“Dad?”

“Sorry,” he mumbles behind you, fingers gripping you tightly as he lets out a breath. “I didn’t—it’s been a while and just—that’s no excuse, ‘m sorry.”

Your heart beats a staccato in your throat, and you rock yourself back, ass brushing against his stiff cock. 

“Oh, dad,” you whimper, and he inhales a sharp breath. “That’s so hot.”

He doesn’t stop you from pressing your ass fully against his chubbed cock, grinding back against him with a moan. His grip shifts, and he guides your hips into a rhythm that makes your toes curl, knowing your dad is getting off to this just as much as you are. 

“Daddy,” you whine, reaching one hand over your head to drape over his shoulder. “Touch me, please.”

His hands move from your hips to drag along your sides until he’s groping your breasts through your flimsy bra.

“Take it off,” he tells you, voice thick with lust. “Show daddy these tits of yours, baby.”

Slick floods the gusset of your panties while you eagerly strip your bra off, dropping it to the shower floor with a splat. His hands immediately grope and squeeze your breasts, fingers tweaking and tugging your hard nipples.

“Daaaad,” you moan, hips rocking back against his while he plays with your tits.

“Hang on,” he mutters, one hand disappearing, and you hear him shift behind you. Glancing down, you see him kick his underwear off to the side, making you whimper.

“There we go,” he sighs, slipping his cock between your thighs. “Mmm, so soft. And..”

He trails off, and you feel him guide his cock up to rub against the outline of your cunt. “So wet, baby. S’this all for me? What a dirty girl.”

He coos the last sentence in your ear and you melt against him, keening low in your throat. “Daddy, please.”

He pulls back and turns you around to face him; your dilated eyes rake down his body, taking in his thick, dripping cock. Leon yanks your panties down, and you step out of them. 

“Pretty pussy,” he groans, fingers skating along your slit, smearing slick along your cunt and his fingers. 

“Dad,” you tilt your head. “Kiss me.”

“Baby,” he rumbles in your ear, and your hands grip onto his biceps, pulling him into a wet kiss. 

He slips his tongue past your parted lips, groaning as he licks into your mouth. You’re so turned on, it feels like your brain is melting from your ears. Leon ruts between your thighs, cock dragging precum all over your pussy lips, parting your slick folds to nudge against your clit. 

“Want it,” you pant, pulling away. “Want your cock.”

“Yeah?” He drops his hand down to grip the base of his dick, guiding the tip until he’s pressing against your hole. “Want daddy to stuff your pretty pussy?”

“Please, please, please,” you chant under your breath, eyes wide as they watch him tease the tip in and out of your fluttering cunt. “Dad, please, I wanna fuck you.”

“God,” he groans, sinking halfway into your snug pussy. “Take it then, sweetheart, since you want it so bad.”

“Yes, yes, oh, fuck,” you moan and whine, hands gripping his shoulders but making sure to keep your nails from scratching him up. No need to give your mom any suspicions. 

Once he’s buried completely in your wet heat, he grabs your thighs and picks you up. Without pulling out, he walks you both back so he can sit down on the bench. Your knees settle on the outside of his thighs, letting you sink down on his cock until the tip kisses your cervix. 

“So deep,” you slur, that pinch of pain making you clamp down on his dick. “Daddy, no one’s ever been this deep.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, hips snapping up, making you squeal as he knocks against the opening to your womb. “This sweet pussy’s never had a dick this big?”

Shaking your head rapidly, you sling water everywhere, “Nooo.”

“Goddamn,” he bites out, pulling you into a spit filled kiss. “Gonna dick down my little girl like she deserves.”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, kissing him between all your little moans and pants. “Give it to me, daddy.”

“Gonna let daddy breed your little pussy, sweetheart? Hmm?” He teases against your lips, warm palm cupping your lower belly. “Put a baby right here if you let me cum in this soft pussy, cream you nice and deep.”

Shuddering, more slick leaks from your cunt, coating his cock, while your nails claw at his back, totally forgetting about not leaving any marks, “Dad, y-you can’t—we shouldn’t, it’s bad.”

“So bad,” he simpers, kissing your neck. “But doesn’t it feel good? C’mon you know you want it. Let daddy stuff your sweet cunt, baby.”

Nodding, you kiss him, sloppily making out underneath the shower spray. His fat tip drags against your g-spot on every thrust, fucking you better than your last boyfriend by far. It really shouldn’t be this good between father and daughter, but now that you know how sweet this forbidden fruit truly is, you never want to stop. 

He pulls away to mouth kisses across your jaw and down your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Drooling, you pant and gasp, knees digging into the tiled bench of the shower as Leon pounds into your clenching heat. 

“Fuck, pussy’s so much better than your moms,” he grunts, fingers digging into your hips. “Like this tight hole’s made for my cock.” 

“Daddy,” you whine, and he groans, biting down on the swell of your breast. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He slows his pace, dragging his cock in and out of your cunt in deep strokes until you’re writhing against him. 

“Want it fast,” you pout. “Please?”

“Don’t like being teased?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss on each of your nipples. “Let daddy play with you a little, sweetheart.”

Clit aching, you rock yourself against him. “But dad—“

“Shhh,” he nips at your stiff nipples, and you whine. “Just let me enjoy it. God, you’re so sexy.”

Pussy fluttering around his cock, you whimper, and he groans in satisfaction. “You like that? Yeah, best little pussy daddy’s ever had.”

He fucks you slow and deep, cock pumping in and out of your pussy while his mouth and tongue tease your nipples. 

“Just think, if you let daddy knock you up, these gorgeous tits will be full of milk.” He bites your nipple roughly, a sharp pleasure that makes your pussy flutter. “Then daddy would have to help milk these fat tits every day.”

You hump down on his cock, thighs burning as you fuck yourself faster and harder against him. “Oh, god, dad, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Fuck,” he groans, moving a hand between your bodies to strum across your senstive bundle of nerves. “Little clit’s so fat and slippery, baby.”

Keening, you thrash against him, arousal building higher and higher until it’s all white noise in your head. “‘M so close.”

“Cum for me, let daddy feel this little cunt squeeze his dick,” he coos. “Be a good girl and cream all over my cock.”

He pinches your clit a little harder, and it’s enough to snap that band wound tight in your lower belly. Your climax hits you hard, pussy squirting slick as your walls clench over and over while you shudder and writhe in his lap.

“Oh fuck,” he chuckles in disbelief. “Squirt’s more than just a nickname, huh?”

Thighs twitching, you slump against him, muscles too weak to keep you up. He wraps his thick arms around you and begins to pound up into your sopping wet pussy. 

“Gonna cum, oh fuck, gonna nut in your hot little pussy, oh, oh, yeah, take it, gonna knock my daughter’s fat pussy up, breed your sweet little cunt,” he babbles against your neck, cock throbbing in your fluttering walls. “Oh, fuuuck.”

He buries himself to the hilt, shooting rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside your puffy cunt, letting your snug pussy milk every drop. He doesn’t pull out when he leans back and takes your chin in hand. Leon tugs you into a soft kiss, the sweetest one that you’ve shared thus far. 

“Let’s go inside and continue this,” he nips your bottom lip. “We’ll worry about the consequences later. Daddy hasn’t had enough.”

He palms your belly, “Gotta make sure it sticks, too.”

A dull throb echoes through your cunt, “Okay, dad.”

[charliemwrites]

Woof, grrr, woof

No content warnings

Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…

“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.

The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.

It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.

The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.

“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.

You shift. “Thank you.”

“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”

“Raw diet?”

“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”

You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.

“Raw it is,” you muse.

He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.

You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.

“How do you feel about pink…?”

Snort.

“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”

A long whine.

“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”

The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.

“S’what you get, dummy.”

Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.

“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”

You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.

The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”

You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.

“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.

The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.

“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”

You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.

Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.

“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”

You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.

“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”

He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.

You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.

As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.

Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.

“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”

His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.

“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.

He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.

“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”

It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.

“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”

You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.

“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[celestialprincesse]

Ex bf!Simon pt.2 - nsfw 🖤✬

Simon keeps a hand on you the whole way home, in a far grumpier mood than he was when he picked you up at the beginning of the evening, his grip that little bit tighter around you.

"You're mad." You observe, pouting up at him once you've removed your helmet, crossing your arms as you wait for him to prop his bike up on the stand. "M' not mad, poppet." Simon reassures you, fingers brushing yours when you hand back the helmet, making a conscious effort to soften his features when he catches your wide eyed gaze.

As always, he walks you to the door of your flat with a hand on the small of your back, withdrawing your keys from his pocket where you'd put them for safekeeping.

He doesn't even think when he walks in behind you, closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes, just like he used to do back when you were still together.

"You look cold." He observes in that blunt way he always does, making you chuff. "Sorry?" You hum in response, turning to face him, rolling your eyes when you see his gaze locked unabashedly on your boobs, and the way your dress does a poor job of hiding the way your nipples have hardened on the windy trip home. "Perv." The insult rolls off your tongue easily, has him coming and grabbing you by the tops of your biceps, rubbing them with his own hands to warm you up. "Slut." He flings back just as easily. "You're making me horny." You deadpan, figuring you might as well make a joke of it. "You always were a little freak." Simon muses, distracting you as he noses at the base of your jaw, causing you to tip back your hear obediently.

You've barely even stumbled over the threshold of your bedroom when he's trying to navigate the complicated straps and clasps of your dress, grumbling to himself in the process. "You want some help there, Einstein?" You coo sarcastically as he practically herds you to your bed in the middle of the room. All it takes is a little taunting about how an experienced SAS Lieutenant can't work around some flimsy fabric and he's pushing you down under him, ripping it with his teeth. "Si!" You screech indignantly, all whilst he looks incredibly pleased with himself from where he's propped up on his forearms above you. "Y' look better with it off."

When he kisses down the dip between your boobs, one big hand coming up to knead at the doughey flesh, you're caught between a giggle and a moan, legs coming to wrap around his waist whilst he thumbs at the already damp crotch of your lacy underwear. "Already wet f'me?" He coos in that condescending way that has your thighs tightening around his broad hips. "Have been all night." You admit, feeling far less shame than you should at admitting that you still get horny from being in the same space as your ex. "Attagirl." He grunts lazily, giving you no warning when he slides a calloused hand into your panties, thumbing at your clit as though testing the waters. He can't help but grin as your back bows against the plushy mattress of your bed from the touch, the same as always.

You're already a whining mess from just his fingers alone, tummy coiled tight and face flushed in that way that he's missed so much. "Simon.." Your little needy mewls of his name have him kissing his way back up your stomach, loosely tangling his fingers with your own. "Want me to fuck you, baby?" He murmurs, genuinely wanting to make sure that you're comfortable.

He'd be perfectly happy to sit here for hours fingering and licking away at you without so much as freeing his painfully hard cock from the confines of his jeans.

"UhHuh." You babble pathetically, looking down at him with glassy eyes where he rests his chin on your hipbone, pressing appreciative little kisses there. "You sure?" He double checks, triple checks, even, just to be sure that you're happy, comfortable - always his priority. "Simon." You huff when he remains still at your waist. "Just checkin' poppet, don't want you getting all shy on me."

His dick is so hard it looks actually painful, and Simon smiles lazily as you gaze at him like the Adonis you've always seen him as. Beautiful in a way that you can't find the words to explain.

"I missed your dick." You mutter as he pumps his shaft a few times, not that he needs to considering how rock hard he is - just showing off, the cocky bastard. "Missed you too, baby." He teases back as he aligns his tip with your entrance, making you bite your lip in anticipation. He keeps one large hand at the curve of your waist as he pushes himself inside, stopping you from squirming away at the stretch, his thumb brushing soothing circles against the soft skin there. "Doin' so good. Look't you takin' me so well." He coos as you feel him bottom out, eyes squeezing shut, only opening after he sets a languorous pace with a few slow thrusts.

You only get whinier, more needy as he presses his nose below your ear, whispering praises of how perfect you are, how good you look under him.

He has you cumming at an almost embarrassing speed, needing no guidance when he hooks your knees over his shoulders, his tip rocking up against your g-spot repeatedly until he feels you squeeze around him with a little squeak that he remembers all too well.

He works you through it, getting closer to his own orgasm when you tighten around his length, gripping at the sheets and the hand he offers you as you tumble over the edge, missing the first time he asks you where you want him. "Need y' to tell me baby. Hm? Where'd you want it?" "Inside." You give a pathetically breathless whine, looking up at his furrowed brows and sweat glistened chest. "Y' sure? Need you to be sure." "M' on the pill." You murmur, eyes fluttering blissfully shut when he shoots ropes of thick cum up into you, watching adoringly as you take him.

He's oh so gentle when he pulls out, making his way to the bathroom to clean himself up, returning with a warm washcloth, peppering kisses on your thighs and lower belly as he wipes away the residue.

Simon sleeps with you tucked up against his chest that night, a hand settled protectively around your waist as he listens to the steady rise and fall of your breath, breathing in the smell of your shampoo.

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎��༻♱༉‧₊˚.

1.1k of filth😚

Tagging those who wanted to be mentioned in a part 2, here u are my loves 💕

@whos-fran @mishaglass

[lulunothulu]

“Talking to the moon”

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: After missing the flight meant to mend your relationship, Tyler is left with anxiety. Thinking you’re planning on breaking up with him, Tyler tries his best to reach you—even talking to the moon.

Inspired by this post and “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars 💗💗 @hunterthecharmer this one is for you.

He felt miserable.

Every time he tried to distract himself from that argument, he felt like the weight of the world was falling on his chest.

It’d been almost a few days since Tyler had last seen and spoken to you and he was absolutely dying to hear from you.

You must’ve been so angry at him. Especially after he’d accidentally missed the plane that was meant to take you both on vacation.

You’d both been arguing about anything and everything for the past couple of weeks before the actual day of the flight.

“Tyler,” you’d say. “Why can’t we just have a weekend? Just one, for ourselves?”

“You know I can’t baby,” he’d tell you, watching as your face grew hard. “There’s a huge tornado that’s supposed to hit and I have to be here to document it.”

“You don’t have to, you want to.” You spat.

He’d watch as you’d shake your head and walk away and then feel like he’s whole world was spinning.

Tyler knew you were right, but he couldn’t help himself. Chasing had become like a drug to him, addicting and overpowering.

That’s why he vowed to give you that weakened trip you’d been begging for. He’d booked a trip to Nashville for the weekend, thinking it would be a great way to get away from everything.

Except, when the day to catch the flight came along a beautiful F3 tornado decided to make its way into a town an hour away.

“Tyler I swear to god if you go,” you started. “I will leave and you’ll regret it.”

“Baby,” Tyler breathed. “It’s an F3! It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to—”

“You know what,” you interrupted. “Just go. If you’re not in the airport and on the plane by the time we have to leave, just know I will not be happy with you.”

Tyler kisses your forehead, smiling before promising he’ll be on the plane.

———

“Boone, get a shot of that!” Tyler yells, happily smiling up at the cyclone before them.

Boone points the camera toward the tornado, whooping loudly and excitedly. “Look at the beaut, folks!”

Tyler anchors the truck to the ground, smiling and then adjusting his harness. He turns to Boone and smiles before asking, “You ready to shoot some rockets, Boonie?”

Boone beans at Tyler before whooping again as the tornado passes over them, rockets flying up and swirling around along with the debris in the tornado.

“Whoooo! That was somethin’ wasn’t it?” Tyler says to the camera.

Boone smiles, “That was the best one yet, Ty!”

“Alright, Boone,” Tyler starts. “Let’s get back so I can finish packing.”

By the time Tyler got back to the house and then to the airport, he’d missed his flight.

“Fuck!” He muttered to himself. You were going to be pissed.

———

“Tyler, what the actual fuck?” You whisper-screamed.

You’d just landed in Nashville and were walking toward the rental car station, suitcase in tow and anger flaring.

You couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. You weren’t surprised, though. This wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten something important.

There was your third anniversary dinner that you’d spent all day preparing, his own birthday, when your parents came into town…you could list more, but your were pissed enough.

“Baby I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I’ll be on the next flight there, just give me a few hours.”

“No, Tyler. Don’t bother coming,” you tell him, tears pricking your eyes and anger turning into pure disappointment.

You felt like you were breaking. Every inch of your heart wanted to explode in hurt, eyes wanting to give in and cry—but you willed yourself not to.

You wouldn’t be the person crying in an airport.

“I’ll see you next Monday,” you tell him, hanging up and turning your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’.

Once in your rental car, you let the tears come. They spill down your cheeks, almost blinding your vision.

How could he do this? He was the one that set everything up!

You knew he’d never change and that’s what hurt you the most. You’d asked for three days. THREE DAYS. And he couldn’t even give you them.

Grief and pain washed over you and by the time you reached the hotel, you were exhausted and feeling the depression hit you hard.

You checked in, grabbed your hotel key, and then made your way upstairs.

The room was beautiful. A view of all of Nashville, the city lights started to illuminate into the room like the moon back home would.

You wished Tyler was there.

He could’ve been there had he not missed his flight.

Tears prick your eyes again but you blink them away.

Just because Tyler want there, didn’t mean you couldn’t attempt to have a good time.

Tomorrow, things would be better.

———

Tyler trudged back into y’all’s house, suitcase being thrown to the side as he angrily closed the front door.

How could he have forgotten? What kind of an asshole forgets he planned a romantic getaway and then not even show up to the airport?

Tyler wasn’t much of a crier, but right now he couldn’t help but cry.

He was so angry at himself. Angry that he let you down…again. He knew this wasn’t a first time thing. He knew this was grounds for a break up and by god did he deserve it.

He’d acted like an asshole and despite his lack of trying, he’d become the asshole of all assholes.

He wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands before walking to y’all’s room. Your side of the bed was strew with clothes you’d decided to leave, some makeup products scattered on top.

Tyler gently picked up one of your dresses, smiling down sadly at the material before pressing it to his face and sniffing the lingering scent your sweet perfume.

Tears pick up again as he holds the dress close to his body.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he cried softly. “Please don’t leave me.”

Tyler’s shoulders shook as he sobbed, holding your dress before grabbing one of your shirts from the bed and pressing it close to his body. He’d broken your heart and yet, he feels like the one who’s broken.

He should’ve payed attention to the time. He should’ve just stayed home in stead of going chasing today.

He should’ve tried harder.

Sniffling his tears away and then laying your clothes on the bed again, Tyler walks to the balcony door in the back of the room. He swings the door open and leans on the railing, sighing to himself.

“Maybe I should try to call her,” he thinks out loud.

Tyler pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing your number but frowning when you send him straight to voicemail. He tries again, frown growing when you send him to voicemail again.

“Hi you’ve reached…”

God damnit.

“Baby,” he whispers after the beep of your voicemail, looking up at the moon. “Please forgive me. Answer the phone.”

He takes a deep breath, still looking up at the white moon before him.

“The moon looks lonely tonight,” he continues. “It’s the same moon we always look up at but without you here, it feels different.”

He sighs, choking back a sob.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers again. “Please, please, call me back.”

That’s how Tyler ended his night for the next few days. By the time Monday rolled around, he knew he had to go get you from the airport.

To say he was scared was an understatement. Tyler was petrified. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into when you get off that plane.

You’d just texted him that you were waiting at baggage claim and Tyler’s hands were sweating as they gripped the steering wheel.

He’s brought a bouquet of flowers in hopes that it will soften the blow. But as soon as he walked into baggage claim and made eye contact with you, something in the air shifted. 

———

You texted Tyler you were getting your bags with a sigh. You’d ignored all of his texts and calls the past few days and now that you were home, all you wanted to do was hear Tyler’s voice.

You felt like shit. Hair in a messy bun at the nape of your neck and clothed in leggings and one of Tyler’s sweatshirts, you make your way through baggage claim and retrieve your bag before turning toward the exit to see a disheveled Tyler walking your way.

Tyler’s eyes were rimmed red, hair messy and face scruffier than usual. In one hand, he held a bouquet of flowers, the other was twiddling with the hem of his black shirt.

It felt almost like a movie. As soon as Tyler’s eyes met yours, all the anger you felt toward him disappeared. Nothing but worry and love remained in your heart as you quickly made your way toward him.

“Tyler,” you whisper when you finally reach him.

“Baby,” he chokes out.

He looks ready to cry any second so you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, brushing the soft part of his neck and burying your face into him.

When he wraps his arms around your waist, you feel his shoulders relax and then shake.

“I’m so sorry,” he quietly says, his tears trickling down your cheek.

You pull away enough to face him, brows knitted together and wipe his eyes.

“Please don’t cry, Tyler,” you tell him. “It was an honest mistake.”

“I’ve been terrible to you and I see that now,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have forgotten about the flight. I should’ve—”

You stop him with a kiss, deep and full of forgiveness and love. When you pull away, you smile up at him.

“Tyler, I know how you are,” you tell him. “Let’s just start fresh. Okay?”

Tyler eagerly nods, kissing you again before letting you go and grabbing your suitcase. “Let’s get home.”

“Wait,” you stop him, grabbing a snow globe you picked up from one of the Nashville shops. “I got you this.”

In the small globe sits a man playing a guitar while looking up at a moon.

“I talked to the moon,” you start. “It said I should forgive you so I figured this would be a nice gift to symbolize that.”

Tyler’s eyes tear up before he kisses your forehead and says, “I love it. And I love you.”

“Good, be use I love you too.”

This took me two days to write because I couldn’t work out how to end it and I STILL don’t truly like it so I’m sorry 😭 check out my Masterlist for more fics!!! 🫶🏼

[steddieas-shegoes]

bad idea right

for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from ‘bad idea right’ by olivia rodrigo

rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex

📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱

Eddie isn’t afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.

Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.

“Steve?” It’s been almost a year since he’s heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. “You okay?”

“Eddie! Oh my god. So I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.” Eddie’s listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. “You remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.”

Steve’s words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.

“I knew you were awake,” he gulps. Robin’s gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- “Is Robbie with you?”

“No.” Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. “She’s on a date with her girlfriend.”

Right. She’d mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.

Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steve’s platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasn’t Eddie’s fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.

“Are you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.” Eddie offers even though he’s sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.

“I can get my own Uber.”

“I know.”

“I missed your voice.”

Eddie is doing his fuckin’ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but it’s not going well. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows because he’s weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing it’ll only lead to more heartbreak.

“You should get home, Stevie.”

“Missed that, too.”

It’s quieter on Steve’s end now, like he’s stepped away from whatever club or bar he’s holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what he’s done so he hangs up.

“Steve…”

“Can I come over?”

Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.

-

When Steve arrives, he’s a beautiful mess.

He’s drunk, but the ride must’ve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.

Eddie’s waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesn’t belong. He’s trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didn’t belong.

Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddie’s third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if he’d never stopped, as if this last year wasn’t the worst of his life and he’s barely made it through.

“Sorry I called. I didn’t know where to go.”

And now Eddie’s confused. He’s confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.

And he’s sure that Steve’s been drunk in the last year and not called him.

“Why couldn’t you go home?”

“Too quiet.”

11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.

11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steve’s apartment for the last time.

11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because he’d been feeling overwhelmed and didn’t tell Eddie until it was too late.

Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.

“You wanna come in?” He asks, already knowing Steve’s answer.

“Please.”

-

Steve is tucked into Eddie’s bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.

Robin’s livid when she answers her phone.

“This better be good. I was two fingers-“

“Steve’s here.” Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. “Drunk.”

“He just showed up at your house?” Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though he’s not sure who she’s more concerned about.

“He called first.”

“And you answered.”

“Yeah. Well.” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets home tomorrow.”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I would’ve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.”

“It’s not your job to babysit him.” Eddie doesn’t like the way she said that, but he’s probably reading too much into it. “He’s an adult.”

“Yeah, no. He’s. I mean, he’s fine. It’s just that we all try to keep his mind busy since…ya know.” Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.

“Since he specifically told me I was too much for him?”

Robin’s silence speaks volumes.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is behind him and he’s quick to turn and make sure he’s okay. “Sleep?”

“I’ll text you,” he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. “You should go lay down. I’ll bring you some water.”

“You too?” Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddie’s living room.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie.”

“Is it because of what I said?”

It’s not the time for them to have this conversation, and it’s not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.

“You made it very clear how you felt. I’m just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.” Robin would be proud of how he’s handling this, he thinks. He’s at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesn’t see any.

Steve’s too tired and too buzzed to hide it.

“Then why did you say any of it?” Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. “Why did you make me think I was too much?”

“My dad came by that day,” Steve’s head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. “My dad had spent two hours telling me I wasn’t enough and that I’d done nothing but disappoint him and I’d never be what he wanted. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.”

Eddie’s staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.

“It’s no excuse. I shouldn’t’ve said any of it no matter what. Not when it’s not even true. I’ve never felt like you’re too much or too loud.” Steve’s stepping closer now. “I’ve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re more than I deserve without saying you’re too much for what I can offer.”

Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.

Damn Eddie’s inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.

He doesn’t know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steve’s and teeth knock together, and there’s a slight taste of blood on Eddie’s tongue.

There’s moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.

There’s Steve’s head hitting the pillow and Eddie’s mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.

There’s laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.

There’s love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and there’s hope when Steve cries out for more, and there’s passion that Eddie knows he’d never find with anyone else.

After, when there’s sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, there’s whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.

It may have been a bad idea answering Steve’s call, but Eddie’s happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.

[missmoonfrost]

Husband privilege - a jegulus microfic

@into-the-jeggyverse - January 30: Wait - Words: 238

Regulus heaves himself up over the edge of the cliff and panting lays down with his arms out and eyes closed. He never wants to see a cliffside again. He doesn’t even want to think about how high over the ground they are.

“Well done! That was -“

Regulus interrupts James' cheering and praising:

“Remind me why I agreed to do this for a honeymoon.”

James only chuckles.

The truth is that the two-week trip to Greece that James has arranged is great. Every morning they go on some kind of adventure. They spend the afternoons by the pool, where James alternates sunbathing and swimming while Regulus reads in the shade with drinks and fresh fruit brought out whenever he wishes. In the evenings they stroll through markets and among ancient ruins.

“Baby? Could you help me out of this climbing harness?”

“Do it yourself! Can’t you see I almost died?” Regulus continues to grouse, but he knows James will pick up on the smile in his voice.

“Oh, poor baby. I better leave you alone and seek my help somewhere else then.”

Regulus open one eye and peeks at James’ who is approaching the climbing instructor but turns and looks at him with one eyebrow raised.

“Wait!”

Regulus quickly gets on his feet and catches James with his arms around his waist from behind. “New rule. Only I can help you out of tight-fitting garments. Husband privilege.”

[sheep-from-rad]

[[Disclaimer]]: this fic is not meant to offend anyone who practices. Thank you. Also most headcanons I wrote here are the ones that I know. Lastly, in addition to the previous sentence, my knowledge might not be the same as what other people do. Not every practice is the same and thus should not be generalized. Thank you again :D dividers by: @adornedwithlight

. . . Okay but imagine a Witch! Yuu getting transported/isekai-d to Twisted Wonderland instead 

Witch! Yuu who spends breaks and vacant periods studying about the new world in the library. From time to time Professor Trein will join them for tea and discussions. I like to think that Professor Trein and maybe even Lilia will personally take Witch! Yuu into a mentorship. Yuu learns about the magic and history of Twisted Wonderland and they share knowledge about their own world. I can also see Malleus and Riddle joining this. Not every practitioner chooses to work with deities, angels, or infernals (because like I said, every practice is unique) but discussing them with these people will be really fun. Fun like eye opening and fun like existential crisis inducing. 

Witch! Yuu who was met by a raised eyebrow from Master Crewel when they started using moonwater on their potion. Master Crewel initially hesitated but their potion came out great and the effect is even greater. Soon enough after being told to remain after class, Crewel now makes and tests moonwater on other potions. Vil who learnt that moonwater is good for skin had also started using it on his routine, using it for morning and night face wash. Moonwater also became a debate to Octavinelle members especially by Azul and Jade. The idea of living inside a powerful source of magic and not harnessing it properly, Azul felt like he was cheated and felt like he just lost imaginary madols. 

Witch! Yuu who bonds a lot with Sam. The two can spend hours trying the decks and providing free readings to the customers (and pitching them to buy the deck). It started as a small gimmick due to the oversupply of cards but now it has become a permanent addition to the shop and Witch! Yuu gets at least 15% cut to each card sale and store discount. 

Witch! Yuu who aces their biology lessons because of their knowledge of herbs. They have traded notes with the other first years and were even approached by higher year students who have hard time memorizing. Ace jokingly tried Witch!Yuu to make those paid tutorial notes but Witch! Yuu doesn’t want to dethrone Azul’s business. The land around Ramshackle turned out to be rich enough to have herbs and vegetables buried around it. Ruggie gets his fair share of harvest too, in exchange for a watering job. Whenever there’s a leftover in the harvest, Witch!Yuu makes tea brews for their friends, personalized for their needs. 

Witch! Yuu who has Cater on their top contact because he provides them with the monthly moon phases and astrological phenomenon around Twisted Wonderland. Cater too had to ask permission from Riddle every week so him and the Witch! Yuu can meet at the NRC observatory for moon gazing and stargazing sessions. The weekly moon gazing and Witch! Yuu’s company made Cater’s self-talk kinder and he also gained more following because of the beautiful night sky pictures he posts every week. 

Witch! Yuu who tags along with Jade on his mountain hiking trips. Jade is mostly there to pick up new mushrooms while Witch! Yuu is out there to pick up bones and crystals. Sam has a sale of those in this shop but there’s a certain excitement in picking your own stuff, immersing yourself in nature, and it also helps them familiarize and map out places in Twisted wonderland. Jade may or may not have tried pursuing them to join the Octavinelle group. 

Witch! Yuu who buried a protection jar to places where overblot happened (minus dwarves’ mine). Witch! Yuu doesn’t know if Crowley ever looks back to the places where each incident happened so they took it upon themselves to make a move. Heartslabyul’s protection jar is buried under the rose hedge. Savanaclaw’s protection jar is buried under the benches (they can’t put it right on the field because it can break and that’s dangerous for the players). Octavinelle’s protection jar is hidden inside the vault, Witch! Yuu gave it to them after the incident. 

Scarabia’s jar is hidden inside the treasure room. No one really goes there so it’s safe. If ever someone tries to go there, the Magic carpet is tasked to either hide it or take it away and fly away. Pomefiore gets two jar: One for the overblot location (Coliseum) and one for Pomefiore dorm. The coliseum’s jar is hidden in some unknown location behind the stage and the Pomefiore’s jar is buried in the woods. It’s hard to slip back into Ignihyde’s dorm without alerting anyone which is why their jar is on Ortho’s safekeeping. Diasomnia gets two jars as well. One is buried in the castle basement and one is given to Lilia. 

Witch! Yuu created one for Ramshackle as well. They gave it to the ghosts for safekeeping. Witch! Yuu hopes that it keeps Grim safe even when they have already left Twisted Wonderland.

[fuctacles]

wereshifter au pt 3, but things get dumber

<<2 | 3 | 4>>

Eddie avoids the park on the next day, doesn't leave the house much at all, really, but he runs into the dog on his way out of a supermarket. He smiles involuntarily, reaching out to pet him.

"Hi, bud," he greets it, and they start the walk back to his van. But before he opens the passenger door to put the groceries there and let the dog hop in, he freezes. He looks down at his furry friend, staring at him so eagerly and with so much trust, and his heart breaks. But nevertheless, he drops his hand away from the door handle, and takes a step back. 

"Listen, man," he says, then sighs before dropping to his knees to address the dog properly and look a little bit less insane while doing it. "This is stupid," he murmurs to himself, before continuing. "I can't take you with me, okay? No more house visits. I'd love to play with you at the park, or something, but you can't come with me anymore." The dog's ears drop, like he can understand everything. Eddie continues. "Turns out, one of my friends is allergic to dog fur, so I can't have you over." He reaches out, hoping the ear scratches will be enough consolation. "I know you have a family somewhere, you should go to them."

The dog huffs almost angrily at that, but seems too happy with Eddie's petting to leave. So he indulges them both with some more scratches before he stands up, hoisting the grocery bag along with him.

"See you around?" he asks, rounding the car towards the driver seat. His dog friend follows, but sits on the sidewalk to watch him enter the van. Eddie can almost sense the betrayal behind his stare. "I know, buddy, I'm sad too," he says, closing the door. They stare at each other for another second before Eddie turns on the engine and peels off. 

After a week, he starts missing his little trips to the park, so he substitutes with reading a book on the porch. His free hand itches to scratch behind furry ears, so he gets some peanuts to keep it occupied instead. 

He hangs out with the boys like he always does, and he spots the kids on his way there, playing with his dog friend. When he hops over to say hi, it stops in it tracks, eyeing him warily. Eddie is lowkey afraid of losing a finger but approaches the dog anyway to give him a friendly (but not overly so) scratch.

"Hi, bud. Having fun?" he asks, and the dog presses more into his hand. "Okay, okay," he chuckles, giving into the silent ask for pets. When he looks up, everyone's looking at them weirdly.

Yes, Eddie Munson likes dogs, fuck off. 

He rolls his eyes and straightens up. 

"Everyone good for Hellfire on Friday?"

Looks like he's found new friends already, and Eddie doesn't have to worry. 

"Hello?" 

"Steve! Hi!" Eddie perks up to the voice in his receiver. It feels like years since the last time he's heard Steve. "I've scrubbed the place, and myself, clean, and washed all my clothes twice."

He hears his friend snort on the other line.

"Congrats?" Steve offers, and Eddie can feel a dry smile pulling on his lips. 

"Har, har, Harrington, I'm talking about your allergy. It should be safe to come over if you're still interested. Or, I could just..." He leans heavily on the wall, picking at his cuticles while he offers the less favorable option. "Home deliver you a few joints."

Sure, it would be nice to have a guy friend his age who went through the same horrors as him. But if said guy didn't feel the same, keeping a casual connection would be enough for Eddie. Maybe Steve had enough apocalypse-fighting friends of his own and didn't need one more, a loser super-super-senior trailer trash, too. 

"No, dude, it's alright. I've just been busy, and kinda not feeling like myself, you know?"

Eddie wants to scream. He does know. Who else would know better, who else had his flesh eaten by demonic bats from a hell dimension?

"Uh-huh," is all he offers, though. He feels weirdly similar to that time in middle school when Cindy McGee said she didn't want to dance with him. 

"I guess I just need some space?" Steve said uncertainly. "You're still invited to the end of summer pool party, of course."

Well, good to know that he could come to the party they've all promised each other as soon as both the Vecna thing and school year were over. 

"Yeah, cool, quick question though." Eddie licks his lips, his anger rising. He bumps away from the wall, ready to strike and throw the phone down. "And be honest with me, because I hate liars. Are you avoiding me?"

There's silence on the other side.

"Eddie..."

"Steve," Eddie interrupts him. "I don't want bullshit. I want to know if I should fuck off. It will suck but I will take it. Just say you don't want to hang out with me. That's fine. Not the first or the last time it happened."

Steve sighs on the other end of the line.

"I do want to hang out," he says. "But I have a lot to think about and I need some space. Is that okay?"

Eddie is close to folding down, but not close enough not to add: 

"Do you need space from everyone or just me?"

"Honestly? Everyone. But especially you."

That was such a stupid fucking answer Eddie had to bite his knuckle not to growl in frustration. 

"Okay," he spat out, proud of himself for not yeling. "Don't tell me. Reach out whenever you feel ready." He's less proud of how he slams the phone on the cradles. He feels like shit as he looks at the machine for any damage he might have caused. 

He has his answers, Steve confirmed he doesn't want to see him, and he told his dog off too. So aside from the younger members of the Party, he had only Nancy and Jonathan to talk to. Argyle too, if he was still in town. Robin was out of the question, because she would babble everything back to Steve immediately. And he wasn't ready to talk to parental figures like Joyce or Hopper yet.

Eddie takes a few calming breaths and dials another number from his list. 

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Eddie."

"Eddie!" Dustin's voice cheers up immediately and helps him brighten up as well. "What's up, how are you doing?"

"Eh, I'm managing." He shrugs. "Hey, do you think Steve is avoiding me?" he asks straight to the point. 

Dustin groans. 

"Yes!" he answers and Eddie's stomach sinks. "But he's been avoiding the rest of us too. And he's been weird for weeks now. But I promised I wouldn't tell anything." There's a frustrated groan on the other end followed by thuds, like someone was punching or kicking something close to the phone. "You have to ask him yourself. But I will grill him, and try coaxing it out of him. Give me a moment."

"No, Dustin-!" Eddie didn't want to make the situation ever more tense than it already was, but Dustin was already off with his own plan. He realizes far too late that he might not have been the best person to call. 

He has half a mind to call Steve again with a warning but he doesn't want to worsen his position even further. It will be bad enough when he finds out Eddie sent Dustin after him. Maybe the best course of action is to let it play out with minimal input and whatever happens, happens. In the worst-case scenario, he still has his Corroded Coffin guys.

Eventually, he holes himself up in his room, waiting for the storm to pass. 

see, and i forgot to tag, just like I said I would. Anyway: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie

[merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale]

my tags when I saw this scene giffed xD I love that all the McDanno shippers went, “....I’ve seen this before!”

This might be relevant to no one but me, but I need to point out the parallels:

Hawaii 5-0, 1x03 Grace: "[My Daddy] Talks about you a lot, too."

Ted Lasso, 3x10 Phoebe: "Well, you talk about him a lot and you spend everyday together."

The truth out of the mouth of children: same trope, same vibes, same surprised/pleased/smitten smile on Steve's and Jamie's faces.

[charliemwrites]

In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.

You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)

The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath

Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.

(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).

This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.

Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.

Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.

Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.

Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.

Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.

You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.

Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.

Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.

Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…

“Boys!”

You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.

Which is about the time you’ve had enough.

“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”

Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.

You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.

Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.

You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.

No way.

You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.

“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”

You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”

You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.

“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.

He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.

You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.

“Huh,” you say.

The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”

You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.

Main Story | Happy Birthday! | Price pt.2

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