#he’d be wild 🥲

[borderlinemediocre]

New dad

[littlelamy]

drew and reader getting into a fight and reader decides to punish him by not letting him touch her and he goes absolutely crazy and keep apologizing and maybe even sheds a tear 🥲

a/n: thank you for sending a request! 🤭🐇 i hope you like it 💗

the tension thickened in the room while the weight of drew’s words hung heavy between you. the argument had escalated quickly—too quickly—and now, neither of you could seem to remember how it started.

"you're so damn stubborn!" drew snapped, pacing across the living room with frustrated energy. his hands dragged through his hair, those wild blue eyes of his flashing with pure annoyance.

"and you’re impossible," you fired back, arms crossed over your chest, which unintentionally pushed your boobs together making drew look down before looking back up at your eyes. your voice was raised, but it didn’t feel good. none of this did. the argument had spiraled out of control. and now, the silence that followed was louder than anything you could have said.

drew stopped pacing, standing on the other side of the room. his jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might say something to defuse the situation. but no, he just stood there, looking at you with that dangerous mixture of hurt and anger in his eyes.

your heart pounded, but you were not about to back down. not this time. he needed to know that you wouldn’t tolerate his attitude any longer.

"don’t even think about touching me tonight," you warned, voice low and steady. it was a punishment you knew would cut deep, because touch was his love language. you could see it in his eyes, the way he froze at your words.

his jaw tensed, “wait , what?”

“you heard me,” you replied, already backing away from him. “no touching.”

drew blinked, as if he couldn’t quite process it. “baby, c’mon. we don’t need to do this.”

but you stood your ground. this wasn’t about denying yourself or him pleasure—it was about sending a message. if he wanted to act like he could get away with anything, he needed to understand the consequences.

“you don’t get to brush off my feelings, drew,” you said softly, but firmly. “you don’t get to say whatever you want and expect me to just touch all over you like nothing happened.”

the sincerity in your voice seemed to hit him. drew’s posture changed, his shoulders dropping slightly, and the anger in his eyes dimmed. he looked away, swallowing hard as if searching for the right words to take back everything he’d said earlier. but there weren’t any.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping toward you hesitantly.

you raised an eyebrow, but didn’t move, “not good enough.”

drew’s frustration came again, not at you, but at himself. he ran his hands over his face, letting out a shaky breath. “what do you want me to do? i can’t—” he stopped himself, exhaling deeply. “i’m so damn sorry, okay? i shouldn’t have said what I did. you mean too much to me for this to happen. please, baby, don’t do this,” he begs.

but you stood firm, “you can’t just apologize and think everything’s fine.”

drew’s face fell. desperation clawed at his expression, the realization that you were serious finally hitting him. “i messed up,” he admitted, his voice strained. he took another step closer, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach out to you, but he didn’t dare. he was scared to be rejected by you.

your stubbornness wavered for a split second, seeing him like this—so vulnerable, so unlike the cocky, confident drew you knew. but you reminded yourself of the argument, of how he’d pushed you too far. you wouldn’t let this slide.

“why do you care so much, drew?” you asked, your tone challenging. “it’s just one night.”

his eyes snapped to yours, sharp and full of emotion. “it’s not just one night. you’re everything to me.” he practically moans in angst, catching you off guard. “i can’t stand the idea of you pulling away from me, mentally and physically.”

you saw the flicker of something deep in his gaze, fear, maybe. fear of losing you.

before you could respond, drew was right in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. he didn’t touch you, he respected the boundary you’d set, but the need in his eyes was palpable.

“i can’t handle this,” he said, his voice almost breaking. “not being able to touch you, not being able to hold you.” his hand hovered near your waist, but he let it fall back to his side, clenching his fist. “please, i’m sorry, baby. i’ll do anything to make it right.”

the apology felt genuine this time, and your heart softened at his vulnerability. his usually cool demeanor had crumbled, leaving him exposed in a certain way you’d never seen before.

drew’s eyes shined with tears, and that’s what did it. you’d never seen him cry, not like this. it wasn’t for effect, wasn’t to manipulate you. he was at his breaking point.

you sighed, the anger that had fueled you before slipping away. “drew…baby”

his eyes met yours, wide and hopeful.

“you really hurt me,” you admitted softly, your voice catching in your throat.

“i know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with regret. “i swear, i’ll never let it happen again. just…just don’t pull away from me, please.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything. then, with a sigh, you reached out and took his hand into yours pulling him onto your body. his breath hitched as your fingers intertwined with his, relief flooding his face.

“i’m still mad at you,” you murmured, your voice softening despite yourself. "we still need to have a discussion about earlier.

“i know,” drew said, stepping closer until his chest was inches from yours. “but at least now I can hold you while you’re mad.”

you gave him a half-smile, shaking your head, “you’re impossible.”

“and you love me for it,” he teased, though his voice was still filled with emotion.

you rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the truth. you did love him, stubbornness and all. as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth, the fight that had seemed so important just minutes ago started to fade into the background.

for now, at least, you would let him touch you, because even though he’d driven you crazy, you couldn’t deny how much you needed him, too.

[thehighladywrites]

need you so bad baby, please...

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ PAIRING: Azriel x fem!reader, wc: 2,9k , Inner circle mentioned

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ SUMMARY: brattaming, mentions of pregnancy, breeding, fingering, creampies, praise, daddy kink, a hint of degradation, mentions of ovulation, oral ( f. receiving ), edging, admiring Azriel ( me fr ), just some nasty smut and some fluff thrown in there 😈

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ AUTHOR'S NOTE: i was so hesitant to post this, omg, is this a cry for help? i’ll just go sit in the corner and cry🥲

Sweet, heavenly mother.

He was looking absolutely delectable. Fuck, it was kind off pissing you off. Like, who looks that good whilst sleeping.

You had woken up all warm with an ache between your thighs, knowing, if you took of your panties, there would be a big, fat, damp stain there. You turned your head to the side, as you admired your handsome, beautiful mate. Whenever Azriel was asleep, his beauty took on a serene and peaceful quality. His features, often intense and striking while awake, appeared softer and more relaxed. His dark hair was slightly tousled and hung over his eyes. His long, dark eyelashes rested gently on his cheeks. Even in slumber, his overall ability to look that attractive and stunning was wild.

You carefully inched closer to him, pondering over how grateful and content you were that he trusted you enough to sleep next to you without having his guard up. Azriel had previously voiced that he had never trusted anyone enough to truly sleep next to them completely relaxed. He was always alert in some way.

But never with you. Never his love, his mate, his heart.

The thought itself was enough to make your eyes burn slightly with a wave of fresh tears. Gods he trusted and loved you so much. As did you.

You were hit by this feeling, this instinct to be as close to him as possible. You slid under his blanket and put your head on his pillow, being so close to him that you were sharing the same breath.

You lifted your fingers to trail his cheekbones, jaw, lips, nose.

Gods, this male. Your love. Your mate. Your heart.

“ You’re staring at me, angel.” Of course he’d be aware, despite his eyes being closed. The corners of his mouth lifted as he slowly opened his eyes, gazing right back at you with heavenly hazel eyes.

“ I’m not staring, love. I’m simply admiring the view.” You smiled back at him as you lifted the covers ever so slightly, allowing you enough room to sit on his hard abs. He immediately brought his warm hands to the backs of your thighs, running his rough fingers over the soft skin as he supported your weight . You rested your hands on his bare chest as you leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his lips. You angled your head to further deepen the kiss, nails digging into his chest as his hands moved up to your hips, giving them a slight squeeze.

You wanted more. You needed more.

You found it impossible to ignore the desire for your husband's intimate caresses, wanting hungrier kisses and firmer grips. Being turned on by your mate was a common feeling, but today, your attraction to him felt stronger than ever. It's as if...

You felt your body temperature rise as that syrupy feeling between your thighs had come back, making you realize what was going on.

The emotional rollercoaster. Doorknob snagged your shirt? Annoyed. Makeup malfunction? Furious. Favorite shirt in the laundry? Pure rage. The neediness and urge to be close to your mate?

You were ovulating.

Of course you were. Fae ovulations were no joke. They lasted longer than human ones and were twice as effective. The last time, Azriel nearly successfully got you pregnant. Not that you were complaining, you really wanted kids with Azriel, as you and him were the only ones without any babes yet.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” You hadn’t noticed that you had moved away from him. If his deep, timber voice hadn’t already been driving you insane, then his touch would have, the action sending your heart skipping. Azriel’s hands gripped your hips roughly before his fingers were gliding up the back of your shirt, before releaving you your clothing.

Your mate stared tracing soothing circles along your bare skin when he noticed you looking more fidgety than usual. You shyly looked away from his intense gaze, adding a layer of timidity. You turned your eyes back to his when he gave your hips a subtle squeeze. A hint of concern flickered in his eyes when you hesitated before responding to him.

“ Az, I- uhm I'm ovulating. I’m fine but I wanted to let you know.” You were both honest about everything, but you were kind of nervous telling him. You had discussed having your own kids one day, and that it was something you both wanted eventually. But now, you wanted nothing more than for your mate to pump you full of cum until his seed was spilling out of you.

He gave you a panty-dropping smirk, dark gaze causing you to falter slightly as you wondered if he could hear your dirty thoughts, his eyes telling you he wanted nothing more than to devour you on the spot. “I know. You’re rubbing all over me, love.” You hadn’t realized that you were subconsciously grinding against him, too lost in your admiration of his attentiveness.

But you didn’t stop grinding against him as you smirked and leaned forward again, licking a stripe from his collarbone up to his jaw. He let out a groan as his hand tightened on your hips, the sound of his pleasure sending a jolt of electricity down your spine.

“ M’gonna need you to fuck me now, Az.” The words dripping with neediness were borderline pornopgraphic, ripped a dark chuckle from within his chest.

Shit.

You knew you forgot to ask nicely but before you could add a ‘please’ , Azriel already beat you to it.

“Yeah? You just demand something and I’m supposed to just give it to you? No please or thank you?” You let out a whine knowing that he’d drag this out until you were begging before him. If there was one thing Azriel couldn't stand, it was bratty behaviour and no manners, especially from you. He had made sure several times to correct you over the years. It seems that he’d have to correct you again. What a shame.

He looked at you unimpressed with a faint smirk that sent shivers down your spine.

“ You think whining like a child will help? That’s not how I’ve taught you to ask for things. C’mon sweet girl, use your words. Ask properly.”

You looked up at him as you dropped your slight pout, knowing it wouldn’t help, as you gave your most heartfelt apology and asked as nicely as you possibly could.

Let’s face it, you were ass-kissing at this point but who cares? You wouldn’t dare risk Azriel withholding any of your pleasure, especially not tonight. The mere thought of him leaving you unfinished almost brought you to tears. “M’sorry daddy, but I really, really love it when you touch me. Could I please have some more?” He looked at you for a moment, face unreadable and nodded, “Lean back.”

You were honestly shocked that pathetic excuse of an apology actually worked. Usually, he made you beg properly if you didn’t ask him nicely. Maybe he let it slide this time. Well, whatever. You didn’t have the patience to ponder over it now. Ovulation made you a million times needier, so you’d take anything he’d give you.

He palmed your breasts roughly and pinched your stiffened nipples. His hands then trailed down your stomach until he reached your hips. Your soft moans had his cock hardening instantly. You giggled and tried to pull away, shrieking when Azriel flipped you over, his body falling over yours. He kissed his way down to your stomach, and back up again, diluted eyes following the way he spread your legs, exposing your mess to him. He ran a thumb up your clit and you shivered, biting your lip so hard you thought you’d draw blood.

“What a pretty pussy”, he whispered to himself, running his thumb along your wet folds. Finally, Azriel leaned in and started to lick your throbbing clit. Arching your back, you pressed his face further into your cunt. “ A-ah fuck, daddy. You make me feel so so so good, ahh.” You felt yourself being stretched by his two fingers as they curled, hitting that delicious, spongy spot that made you feel euphoric. He pumped his fingers in and out while sucking on your clit.

You whined at the lost of contact when he suddenly pulled away, leaving you feeling hollow.

Maybe he was changing positions? Ah, yes, that must be it.

Relief flooded your veins as he came back up to eye level again. It could only mean one thing.

You were at last getting filled by his delicious cock.

The thought alone made your mouth water.

You kept biting your lips again to prevent a moan to escape. He saw you holding back and didn’t accept any of it, simply kissing and leaving you breathless as you became putty in his strong arms. “ No holding back now, baby. Let me hear you" he mumbled into your mouth kissing you as he lined his hard cock up with your entrance and pushed in his tip. You matched his groan as you felt him slowly pull out before pushing back into you.

At first his pace was slow and steady, kissing your neck and leaving little bruises all over. Only after feeling your arms tighten around his neck did he speed up a little. “ M’not made of glass. Move faster and harder. I can’t come like this otherwise.” You knew you absolutely shouldn’t talk to him like that, especially now that you were desperate. But pleasure had clearly clouded your sanity.

He raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes at you but you didn’t see it as you threw your head back in pleasure, feeling every ridge of his cock slide against your sensitive walls. Soon enough his grip was tight on your hips and he was roughly thrusting against you. His groans only making you wetter.

“ F-fuck m’gonna cum-! I need to come, daddy please!” He brought down his fingers and rubbed tight circles against your clit making you let out a wanton moan.

Soon. So soon and you’d feel euphoria.

Closing your eyes, you began to writhe against his fingers. One more stroke and you’d finally release.

He kissed your lips slowly and completely halted all his movements. He had completely ruined your pleasure. Your eyes shot open only to find him looking down at you smugly.

“D-daddy, wait, no- please, what’s going on?”

“ Gods, you’re fucking cute. Why are you confused? Did you think I missed the way you talked to me? You really thought I'd let you cum after commanding me? Seems a bit of cock is all it takes for you to get stupid, huh? Honestly, I thought I had taught you how to behave and ask for things nicely, how to use your manners properly but I guess not. That’s my fault really.”

You wanted to scream. This was not happening , not right now.

“ I won’t do it again,m’so sorry daddy. Just please let me cum, please. M’gonna be good, I swear.” He caressed your cheek lovingly making you think he’d finally give in.

But you know what they say, “hope breeds eternal misery.”

“Hm, too late for that now, sweetheart. Only good girls get to come, and you weren't being very good now, were you?”

Fucking hell. You weren’t finishing anytime soon. What the hell were you thinking, trying to command him of all people?

-------

He edged you for hours. Pushing you to the brink only to rip away sweet release at the very last second. “Huh, where did that attitude go?” Your face was covered in tears that were beginning to blur your vision as yet another orgasm ebbed away. He had driven you stupid from his touch. You put in all your efforts to properly answer his questions this time.

“Now let’s try this one more time, baby. How do you address me?”

“I will address you accordingly.”

“ What will you not do?”

“Speak with no manners, be demanding or be rude, daddy.”

“Good job, love. Now why are you being punished?”

“ Because I addressed you wrong, I was being mouthy and I wasn’t using proper manners when I asked for what I wanted, daddy.”

He leaned in and gave your neck a gentle kiss. “That’s my girl. My perfect girl. My sweet baby.”

“ May I ask a question? ” He smiled and nodded. “ Of course you can, love.”

“ Do you want to have a baby with me? ”

Azriel froze as he looked down at you. He was silently staring for so long with an unreadable expression that it made you wonder if you should've asked him at all.

“ Az- ” Azriel’s stomach flipped as he heard your question. A baby. His dreams of starting a family with you were on the verge of becoming a reality. “ Want me to make you a mommy? D’you want me to put a baby in you, huh baby?” , he confirmed and you once again nodded frantically in agreement.

He spread your legs apart before settling himself in between them. Looking down at your flushed face, Azriel gave you a reassuring smile and put his hand on your cheek. “You look so beautiful.” You gave him a bashful smile and kissed his palm. “ You look so beautiful too, daddy.” He glanced down at you, holding your heated stare while he positioned himself between your legs. Your body slightly tensed, hands grabbing handfuls of the sheets below you, as Azriel stretched you open. Your head fell back as you let out a content groan in unison.

Before he could ask if he could move, you choked out an “m'good, please daddy. It feels so good, please move.” Azriel's eyes darken a fraction as he grabbed your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip “Yeah? You're so fucking good for me baby.”

Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him shattered as you tightened around him, pleasure raging inside you.

“F-fuckk, right there. Azzie, m'gonna cum.” You gasped as he leaned down, burying his head in your tits, latching onto your left nipple as he teased the other. The headbord creaked, as his cock left you mumbling and pleading while tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes. The combination of him sucking on your breasts and the push and pull of his dick inside of you, made you dizzy. He unlatched from your nipple with half-lidded eyes, making you flush.

“ Need to see you filled up with my cum, baby. ” Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, biting your lip as you tried to contain the moan that was escaping you. Fuck, he really loved the way you clenched around him, bringing his fingers down to play with your neglected clit. You loved how vocal he was about what he wanted today, he usually wasn't.

I'm gonna give you my babes. Wanna see you nice and round, baby. Fuck, baby I'll take care of you don't worry.

The words erupted a primal need inside of you. You wanted babes with your mate, and he was willing to give you some.

He kept giving you deep strokes, rubbing tight circles on your clit as he sucked bruises on your neck. You kept moaning his name over, and over until you felt that familiar pressure build inside you. Tightening around his cock, you came while chanting his name, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure buzzed through you.

“ Ah, fuckk, this sweet cunt's milking me so fucking good. I'm gonna make you a mommy by tonight.” he chuckled, biting his lip as he saw you play with your nipple and clit. Azriel's thrusts were starting to get sloppy, indicating how close he was to the edge. Your husband kept muttering how much he needed to breed you and it made your realize just how turned on the idea made him.

So, of course, you gave him a final push.

“Let me make you a daddy. Cum inside me, please.” You encouraged him with an exhausted smile.

You felt his cum filling you up when he gave you a few final thrusts, putting his head in the crevice of your neck.

You both laid like that for a while before he carefully pulled out, making you whine a bit. His cum rushed out of you and he tsked with furrowed brows. He pushed his cum back in with two fingers. “What a waste that would've been.”

Azriel loves creampies, he'd never let one go to waste. Nothing makes him happier knowing that you're stuffed with him. His possessive side, felt satisfaction knowing that no other male would ever father your kids, making you his forever.

“You okay, baby? You did so well for me, sweet girl,” he softly mumbled, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. When you nodded, he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, lowering you into the already filled tub. You were on the brink of sleep when you felt him slip in behind you. Leaning your head on his chest, he brought you closer, kissing the back of your neck. “I'm so proud of you. I can't wait for you to get pregnant and start our family. I can't thank you enough for this, love. You have no idea how much I adore you.”

Another kiss. Gods, you were blushing.

“ Thank you, baby, I love you too. I'm just a bit tired, but I'll be okay. Probably won't be able to walk for a while, but at least you're here to pick me up and carry me around.” You felt his chest rumble with a comforting chuckle. “ I'll carry you anytime, baby. ”

After going for two more rounds in the tub, you were both utterly exhausted. He carried you back to bed after brushing and braiding your hair before putting you in one of his comfy, oversized shirts.

“Night night , Azzie, I love you s’much.” You whispered in affection, accompanied by a sweet kiss. Your legs entwined and your head nestled in the gentle curve of his neck. As sleep embraces, he tenderly said , “Sweet dreams, my dear. I love you too. ”

[keeryhours]

please don’t go, i love you so - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby daddy! Rafe

Summary:

When you get in a serious accident, Rafe’s true feelings are left staring him in the face.

Requested

Warnings:

Lots of drama and angst, language, serious car accident, medical stuff, talk of TBIs, broken bones, and other injuries

Word Count: 4k

A/N:

Had to do research for this one, but I’m definitely no expert on medical stuff so forgive me if I get something wrong 🥲 Requests are open! BD Rafe requests can be anywhere in the timeline, past, future, smut, fluff, or angst :) Other OBX (or ST) requests also very welcome. I hope you enjoy this one!

let me know if you want to be on any tag lists :)

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

—

“Iris, please, baby, we’ve got to get your shoes on.”

“No!” the toddler yelled back, running circles around the living room.

You were out of energy. You sat on the couch, your face in your hands, as she continued to run and you tried to clear your head and just breathe.

It had been a long day. A bad day. Iris had been absolutely wild, endless energy and more attitude in her nearly 2 year old self than you thought possible. And it didn’t help that JJ was out with the pogues, so you didn’t even have any backup. It was 7pm, nearing her bedtime, and this had been your whole day. You were over it.

Everything had been a fight with her all day, but the current one was getting her dressed for pickup. It was Rafe’s weekend, and he’d be pulling up any second. You didn’t feel too thrilled about seeing Rafe right now, either.

Things had been complicated with Rafe. You felt like it was a constant back and forth with him, especially recently. Not about co-parenting, never about Iris - you knew you were lucky that the two of you got along so well when it came to parenting your daughter. It was feelings that got tricky.

You didn’t even know how you felt about Rafe yourself. On one hand, you knew you loved him. You’d always love him. But just because you loved him didn’t mean you should be together. You could never forget the toxic situation your relationship had been. Constant fighting, endless tears, trust issues and anger problems.

That’s not even to mention the way he would act around you lately. He was hot and cold. Sometimes he acted all affectionate, kissing and touching you, fucking you, like you’d never broken up in the first place. Other times he was cold and withdrawn. It left you feeling confused, like emotional whiplash, and you were honestly tired of it.

You debated on letting yourself have a quick cry, but quickly wrote that off as you thought of how humiliating it would be to answer the door to Rafe with your face all red and puffy from crying. You took a second to collect yourself, before putting the Mom pants back on.

“Iris Elaine Cameron,” you said sternly, standing from the couch.

The little girl came to a stop, looking up at you with a big grin on her face, totally oblivious to your frustration. The sight of her angelic face softens you immediately, of course. She had her light brown hair up in tiny pigtails, dressed in one of the many outfits Rafe had bought her. Some designer brand dress, not that you had any idea about that or thought it made much sense to dress a toddler in such expensive clothes. She looked cute, though.

You held up her Mary Jane shoes. “Are you gonna let Mommy put your shoes on so Daddy can come pick you up?” you asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Her little face lit up with joy. “Dada! Dada!”

Your heart clenched in your chest. Iris had been a total Daddy’s Girl since day 1 - and Rafe was completely wrapped around her little finger - but sometimes the reminder of him hit you especially hard.

At the promise of seeing her dad soon, Iris happily hopped over to you. You smiled as you lifted her onto your lap and slid her shoes on, buckling them. “There. See? All done,” you said. Iris held her palms out and twisted them, baby sign language for all done, which made you giggle. When you had read the articles and brought it up to Rafe, he had thought teaching her sign language as an infant was dumb. But it actually ended up being extremely helpful since she couldn’t communicate with words yet.

“Book?” she asked you, and you knew exactly what she wanted - her favorite book, Where the Wild Things Are. She’d have you read it 50 times a day if you’d do it. You smiled as you reached over to unzip the diaper bag, pulling the book out. She broke into a huge grin just at the sight of it.

You opened the beloved book and began to read to her, making her giggle with the different voices you’d do for the monsters. Her favorite part was always when you or Rafe would read the line “Oh please don’t go - we’ll eat you up - we love you so!” while attacking her with kisses and tickles. She laughed so hard every time.

When the book was finished, you closed it and slipped it back in the bag to go to her dad’s. She pouted like she was about to throw a fit if you didn’t read it again. “Uh uh. You’re gonna have to wait until Daddy reads it tonight.” You leaned in, rubbing your nose against hers, making her giggle.

You sat Iris down on the ground at the exact time you heard the front door opening. You raised your eyebrows knowingly at Iris, who’s eyes went wide in the direction of the hallway. You both knew perfectly well who it was.

Rafe sauntered into the living room, sunglasses sitting on his face despite the sun already beginning to set. His bored expression was immediately replaced by a huge grin as he saw his daughter.

“Hey, baby girl,” he said, lifting her into his arms as she squealed with delight.

You avoided eye contact with Rafe, busying yourself around the living room as you made sure everything Iris needed that he didn’t already have at his place was packed in her diaper bag. Once you were satisfied, you approached Rafe with the bag, handing it over. He took it from you with a curious expression.

“You’re being weird,” he said, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head.

You ignored him, leaning over to give Iris a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, baby. I’ll see you Sunday night, okay?”

Rafe doesn’t take his eyes off you, like he’s examining you inside and out. “What’s your deal?”

You sighed - you already felt defeated and exhausted going into this encounter, you didn’t really want to do this tonight. “Nothing. Everything is fine.”

But Rafe knows you better than anyone.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at you. “This is because I took Briana on another date, isn’t it?”

You felt your skin turn ice cold at the accusation, your defenses building themselves high. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

The slightest smirk dances across his lips as he sits a wiggling Iris back on the ground, his eyes never leaving yours. “That is why you’re mad.”

You huffed an incredulous laugh as you crossed your arms and looked away from him, watching Iris start dragging everything you’d just cleaned up out of the toy box again, paying no mind to the two of you. “I’m not mad. And if I was, I have much better things to be upset about than who you choose to stick your dick into,” you hissed back at him.

Rafe barked out a laugh, looking up at the ceiling as he did like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. “You are so full of shit.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Get out, Rafe. I’ll see you Sunday.”

He watched you for a minute longer as you both stood there in silence. Finally he let out a big sigh, running a hand over his face. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?”

You didn’t acknowledge the comment as he moved to lift Iris into his arms again, her bag slung over his shoulder. You followed him to the front door, ready to shut him out as soon as possible, but as soon as he stepped over the threshold, he turned back to you.

“You know, it’s none of your business who I see. We’re not together. You’re not my girl.”

You just looked at him, his words cutting far deeper and harder than you wanted to admit. “Same goes for you too, Rafe,” you said, thinking of the multiple times Rafe’s temper and jealousy had ruined one of your dates. Half the island was scared to even look at you because of him. It was fucking annoying.

Rafe scoffed. He shook his head one more time with that stupid grin on his face. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he said, and then he was walking off towards his truck.

You didn’t linger. You shut the door as soon as he stepped away, leaning against the wood as you took a deep, shaky breath. God, you hated that arrogant asshole sometimes.

You wallowed in your despair on the couch for a while that night, switching between various shows, none of them catching your interest. Eventually you think what’s the point, and decide to just go to bed early. You might as well take advantage of the sleep without having to worry about getting up early.

—

You hoped you would feel better the next day.

You didn’t.

You made breakfast for you and JJ, not something you typically do when Iris was at Rafe’s, but you felt like pancakes. And JJ certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“You look depressed,” JJ pointed out helpfully through a mouthful of pancake as you sat at the small dining table across from him.

You glared at him over your plate before eating a bite of your own breakfast. JJ held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Touchy subject this morning, I see.”

As much as you loved your twin brother, you were relieved when he picked up his surf board after breakfast and told you he was going out. You didn’t exactly feel up to company.

With JJ gone, you attempted to stay busy around the house, but once everything was cleaned to perfection, you found yourself standing in the silent living room, feeling like you had no idea what to do with yourself. What was wrong with you, you thought. The place was always too quiet without Iris.

You needed a drive to clear your head.

You snatched your keys from the side table and left the house, still dressed in the tank top and athletic shorts you’d been cleaning the house in. You just wanted to drive around the island for a while, you weren’t really going anywhere, so you didn’t care how you looked.

You turned on your favorite sad playlist and sang at the top of your lungs to songs about love and broken hearts and pain. You felt pretty silly, but this was your time, your coping mechanism, and you weren’t going to feel bad about it.

Fuck Rafe Cameron. And not in the way you usually did.

You drove with the windows down, the salty breeze whipping through your hair, cooling your skin. You felt yourself starting to feel lighter.

You didn’t see the truck barreling faster than the speed limit around the corner. No one even had time to lay on the horn. You didn’t see or feel anything except a brief flash of pain and then - nothing.

—

“Wow! That’s beautiful, baby.”

Rafe lifted up the piece of paper covered in crayon scribbles, examining it like it was on display at The Louvre. It was the fifth one he’d been given since he sat on the floor with Iris, crayons and paper spread out all around them. Each piece of art went in a stack to be displayed somewhere in the house.

He watched his daughter as she picked up the green jumbo crayon and began roughly scribbling it across another blank page. The same big smile he always had around Iris was spread across his face. Nothing made him happier than spending time with her.

Rafe was caught off guard by the sound of his phone ringing loudly in his pocket. He sighed as he pulled it out, expecting to see either Topper or Kelce forgetting it was his weekend with Iris. But his eyebrows furrowed as he saw it was JJ calling him. JJ never called or texted him. They only had each other’s numbers in case of emergency.

Rafe felt a jolt of pure fear deep in his chest.

He answered the call, tentatively bringing the phone to his ear. “Maybank?” he answered.

He felt the nausea spread over him like a tidal wave when JJ spoke your name in his panicked voice. It was you. God, something bad had happened to you.

“S-slow down,” Rafe said, holding his shaking hand out in front of him as if JJ could see. Pure panic was spreading and growing through every vein in his body. “What…what happened?”

JJ’s voice was shaking too as he spoke. Rafe could tell he was pacing, probably pulling at his messy blonde hair as he did. “She- it was a truck. Guy was speeding and hit her head-on. Her car is totaled, they��they haven’t even let me see her yet. I don’t even know if she’s okay. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left this morning. Fuck!”

Rafe couldn’t even process JJ blaming himself for something that definitely wasn’t his fault, because he was doing the same thing. He had been a total asshole to you last night. The idea that that could possibly have been the last conversation he’ll ever have with you has him feeling like he’s going to be sick on the floor.

“I’m on my way,” Rafe said simply, and then he was hanging up the call, shoving his phone in his pocket and climbing to his feet.

Sarah was happy to watch Iris as Rafe grabbed his keys and sprinted to his truck, with promises to text her about your condition as soon as he knew anything at all. He probably would have been driving 15 over the speed limit if he wasn’t so disgustingly reminded of the dangers of the road. Instead he drove as fast as he safely could, a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he clenched his jaw tightly.

His head was spinning as he rushed into the hospital, looking around the waiting room for any sign of JJ. He didn’t see the blonde boy anywhere. He approached the receptionist desk instead, urgently giving your name to the tired looking receptionist.

“She’s in the Neuro ICU, room 5,” the receptionist said. Rafe felt his breath hitch - the fucking ICU? “We only allow two visitors at a time, and it’s immediate family only,” she continued. “You are…?”

Rafe hesitated. “Uh…I’m her boyfriend,” he said the first thing that came to mind. “But we have a child together. Please.”

The receptionist eyed him for a moment, before nodding, giving him a sympathetic look. She printed a visitor’s badge for him and handed it over. He thinks she said something about wishing you the best, but all he could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears as he mindlessly walked towards the elevators.

The last time Rafe had been in a hospital was for Iris’ birth, decidedly a much happier occasion. He felt out of place and awkward as he walked through the quiet, sterile halls, following signs pointing him where he wanted to go.

When he reached the ICU and approached room 5, he froze. He had never felt so scared in his life, he thought. He didn’t know if he could do this.

But you needed him.

He slid the glass door open, a flash of blonde hair peeking from around the privacy curtain where JJ was sitting. Rafe mustered all the strength he had to walk forward into the room. JJ looked up at him as he entered, but his eyes were immediately drawn to you as his heart shattered in his chest.

He clasped his hands behind his head as he took in the scene in front of him. He was holding off a panic attack as tears welled in his eyes. You were there on the bed, and you looked so utterly broken that it made Rafe feel like he couldn’t breathe. You were hooked up to an IV, about a million monitors mostly over your chest and head, a cast on an arm and one on a leg, a ventilator.

Rafe’s shaky legs practically gave out then, his body collapsing in the empty chair by your bedside. He was terrified to look at you, knowing he was going to start crying harder if he did. He looked at JJ instead, who looked equally wrecked, his eyes red from crying.

JJ gave Rafe the rundown the doctor had just given him. Traumatic brain injury, broken bones in your left arm and leg. You hadn’t regained consciousness at all since the accident. Things were still up in the air, nothing the doctors would say brought Rafe any comfort. They didn’t know about surgery yet, they didn’t know how long it would take you to recover, hell, they couldn’t even say if you’d be the same when you woke up.

When Rafe finally worked up the courage to be close to you, to actually look at you - he didn’t know his heart could break like this. Your normally smooth, perfect skin that he loved to trace his fingertips over because of the way you’d react to his touch, was now covered in deep bruises. Your face - that beautiful face he always adored so much, the one he fell in love with back in junior high - bruised and lacerated. He couldn’t even tell himself you were just peacefully napping. You looked like hell.

The next weeks were long and difficult. Iris stayed with the Cameron’s, and while Rafe spent every second he could drag himself away from your bedside spending it with her, he didn’t leave the hospital much at all. He grew used to sleeping in the world’s most uncomfortable chair.

Your recovery was truly a miracle. You didn’t end up needing brain surgery, but they kept you monitored for weeks. You did suffer a pretty bad TBI, and you had surgery to repair the broken bones in your arm and leg. The ventilator was removed first, which Rafe was the most relieved about, because that terrified him more than anything else.

When you finally woke up, Rafe was the first thing you saw.

The second he noticed your eyes fluttering open, Rafe was bolting up straight in his chair, his hand gently cupping your cheek with a barely-there touch as he whispered your name.

“R…Rafe?” you had croaked, voice raspy and dry from disuse and the ventilator tube being down your throat. Rafe called the nurses immediately, and multiple examinations, a plastic hospital jug of ice water, and some heavy pain meds later, you were feeling…okay.

JJ was there for most of the day like he was every day he didn’t have work. He actually cried when he showed up and saw you awake, which surprised Rafe because he didn’t even seem embarrassed about it. He just embraced you as gently as possible so as not to hurt you, and it was clear you were equally as happy to see him. There was that twin bond, something Rafe found a little weird (especially when the two of you would communicate without even talking) but also…endearing.

Recovery was a long road, and it was a lot of hard work, but the doctors were confident in your ability to return to normal in time. You had to work on your memory, your speech. Physical therapy took up most of your days. But Rafe knew you were strong, and you showed him every day. Even Iris got to visit as often as she could, but you didn’t want her in a hospital for too long so she wouldn’t get sick.

Rafe sat by your side late at night, gently brushing his fingers through your hair as you laid with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling. Your hospital stay was finally almost over. You’d be coming home tomorrow, staying with the Camerons so you had the help.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. You were happy, but his behavior was confusing to you at the same time. “You’re being weirdly sweet,” you said with a teasing smile.

Rafe looked away from your eyes. “Yeah…well.”

The two of you sat with that silence for a while. You knew there was plenty he wasn’t saying, and you wondered if he would.

Rafe reached forward and traced a finger along your cheek, over your jaw line. The cuts and bruises on your face were mostly healed now, and you were endlessly grateful when they told you they didn’t expect any lasting scarring. His light touch sent a shiver through your body.

When Rafe finally spoke again, he sounded different than you had ever heard him. His voice was weak, broken. “Don’t do that to me again.”

Your face fell as you looked at him - really looked at him - and saw the pain hidden deep behind his blue eyes. Obviously you knew none of this was your fault, but you felt terrible for what you’d put your loved ones through all the same.

“I’m sorry-“ you began to say, but Rafe shook his head.

“Do you understand that I love you?” he said, his voice choked up as tears welled in those deep eyes. The words hit you like a physical blow, you felt yourself moving back as you looked him in the face. “I don’t give a fuck about Briana, or any other girl on this island compared to you. And it’s not just ‘we were together for a while and you’re the mother of my daughter so I’ll always love you’,” he continued, like the words were spilling out of his mouth faster than he could control. “No, like, I love you.”

He was looking you so intensely in the eyes that it took your breath away. You felt tears in your own eyes, falling down your cheeks before you could do anything about it. “Rafe…” you breathed out, you didn’t know what else to say. You weren’t even sure this wasn’t a dream.

“Maybe we could…maybe we could try again,” he said, the hope audible in his voice. “A…relationship?”

You let out a long shaky exhale. “I…” You searched your brain for the right words to say, searched your chest for how you really felt. “We…it’s never worked, Rafe, we never-“

“Do you love me?”

The question caught you completely off guard. “What?”

“Do you love me?” he repeated simply. “I told you how I felt. I need to know how you really feel.”

You swallowed. “I love you, Rafe,” you said, your voice small. “I’ve always loved you. But it’s still never worked for us.”

Rafe clasped both your smaller hands in his, being gentle with your cast. “I’m serious this time, baby. This is…things are different.” He held intense eye contact with you as he spoke, and you could see the genuine emotion swirling behind his eyes. “I’ve had a taste of what life would be like without you, and I don’t wanna go through that again.”

You had no control whatsoever as the tears started to fall down your face faster, a sob escaping from your throat. Rafe pulled you into the tightest gentle hug he could manage, his large hand combing through your smooth hair as you cried into his chest. He was a little panicked, he didn’t know if he had said something wrong to upset you. He didn’t want to make you sad anymore.

When you pulled back, Rafe wiped the tears from your face. He traced his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. His gaze flicked up to your eyes, back to your mouth, and then he was leaning in to press the softest kiss to your lips. When he broke the kiss and looked into your eyes again, he could see the mix of emotions swirling behind them. He wished he could read what you were thinking.

He grabbed your good hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. “You don’t have to decide anything now. You have plenty else to worry about. Just…think about it for me?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand in yours, which gave him some reassurance. You didn’t know what your decision would be, but you wanted to make sure you made the right one. For you, for Rafe, and for Iris.

“I love you,” you whispered to him.

His lips turned up in a smile. “I love you too.”

[diejager]

Hi! I'm not sure if you're still doing/taking requests for the monster!141 au anymore so feel free to just ignore this if you aren't! 😊

But if u are can I request a drabble/headcanon about venom!hunter? I'm curious about the dynamic between them (venom & hunter) and how they got along and worked together (i don't really know how to phrase it🥲) when they first met.

Also how did they first met? How does venom get along with 141? I'm not sure if u already wrote about it.

Venom!reader headcanon

Cw: blood, gore, cannibalism?, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 898

Your meeting with Venom was an accident, a coincidence culminated from horrible events, you weren’t supposed to separate from your squad and he wasn’t supposed to die in the body of an incompatible vessel. It was a moment of shame and disgrace, making the simplest mistake one could do in your positions, but everything had a reason, no? Because you found Venom and he found you, he was your way back and you were his compatible vessel.

It was… difficult at first, sharing one mind and body with someone else took some time. A lot of time. It was a struggle of push and pull, your calm waters and his violent storm. While you preferred to stray from trouble, Venom loved it, actively seeking it out whenever he had control of your body. There was a lot of fighting, internal struggles and bickering back and forth, but you eventually came to an understanding —common ground. 

If he let you live your life - a dangerous one filled with blood and violence, still a young private in the army without any achievements and with big dreams - have monopoly over your body whenever you were off the field, you’d relinquish your key on his cage whenever he was hungry while you were fighting, letting his loose to run his rampage and fill his stomach with the heads of enemies. 

It was a relationship built on mutual respect, you for his determination and him for you strength. You understood one another, so your occasional disagreement grew rarer and rarer. You didn’t fight about feeding him only chocolate because you couldn’t stomach the sight of bitten heads. You didn’t fight about wanting excitement when times were too quiet. You didn’t fight when you wanted a few moments of silence in your mind. And you didn’t fight whenever you felt him poke his head out of your sleeve.

This symbiotic relationship only meant that you;d grow closer to each other, he got to know you on a fundamental level and you got to discover more and more about his past and dreams —he had a few wild ones, but all attainable. You shared your fears, your secrets and your pains, you laughed when he stammered after your promise to protect him, his blubbering words and growls sent your way when he said that he would be the one to do the protecting. His reasoning being that he was bigger, stronger and more dangerous than you and your little explosive weapons. 

It was from then on that he called you Little One, a slip of his tongue while you laughed and kicked your legs at his flustered face, his head reaching from your shoulder to glare at you. He acted like a love sick puppy afterwards, often calling out to you when he was bored, nudging your arm while you worked, wanting pets and kisses, or would shower you with loud and boisterous affection. Though he always proclaimed it to be him providing for you, it wasn’t affection - no - it was him watching over you like a guardian —or so he mumbled. 

He would step in if he deemed a situation too dangerous for your fragile, fleshy body. He’d warn you, let you know where and who was coming for you, be it a sniper from a mile away or a group of armed soldiers sneaking around you. If you couldn’t deal with it in time, Venom would forcefully push his way out of you, covering you in a protective layer of his body, the mass of muscle and sinewy cords building a protective shell. And fortunately, it’s only happened when you were hidden away, the knowledge of Venom’s existence would bring unwanted attention to both you and him, none of which were good. 

You met Venom before your study and test for the rank of combat medic, getting his support and mind to help you through it all, his photogenic memory, his talented hands and strength. It was only after earning you new rank, did Laswell contact you for the position on the Task Force 141 since your record held no sign of hateful acts towards monsters and hybrids, and your high success score. 

You both vowed to keep Venom a secret from anyone, he was off the record in every sense, unknown and a mystery, a variant that you were adamant to keep a secret. Venom didn’t… hate the men, he might’ve had a small dislike for their attraction and affection towards you, he was a possessive and protective symbiote, but seeing how you were a permanent fixture in the TF, he was forced to tolerate them. He would let you know what he heard and sensed from them, small secrets he caught or fun, little pranks that he wanted to do, and occasionally protect them. Only because you cared for them, he’d hate to see you sad and worried, Venom preferred seeing you smile and laugh. 

And following these events, Venom could openly interact with the hybrids, unafraid since it wasn’t a secret anymore. He was a bit reluctant, but slipped from your collar whenever someone mentioned something he liked: chocolate, human meat, you or violence, grinning maniacally and flashing his big, white teeth. Despite his apprehension, Venom was a menace, to them as much as he was with you, and yet you still loved him so much. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-nooraa @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.  

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by commenting!

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part seven.

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yourusername had to take these pictures myself bc apparently angles are “too hard”

view all 1,972 comments

landonorris maybe you should’ve just asked me 🙄

↳ yourusername as much as i love your results you turn what should be a quick 5 mins into a 20 min photoshoot

↳ landonorris yes and?? i’m not seeing what the downside is 🤨

user HOW MANY LETTERS IN SARGEANT???

user literally who needs boys when girls like y/n exist

↳ user REAL

logansargeant i know about angles

↳ yourusername yes logie and your future girlfriends will thank me for it 🫶

user that dress is stunning and i want it but i know it costs more than a month’s worth of my pay 🥲🥲🥲

user ferrari spotted = y/n for ferrari 2024

↳ user get that girl in a formula car and leT HER DRIVE

oscarpiastri in my defense your heels make you as tall as me 🫤

↳ yourusername methinks it’s just bc you only know how to take one type of picture and it’s the awkward dad kind 🫤

user OSCAR??? HAS OUR HUSBAND RETURNED FROM THE WAR???

↳ user mama y papa

user OP81 IS BACK IN THESE COMMENTS WAR IS OVER

With Oscar by your side, time passes quickly. You don’t bring up that the first night you shared a bed, you’d woken up in the morning with his arm wrapped around your waist and his breath tickling the back of your neck, and you certainly don’t mention that he’d practically whined in his sleep when you’d slipped out of his grasp. It doesn’t happen again, but there’s a part of you hoping that it does.

The days blend together into a haze of happiness, laughter, and exploring the beauty of Monaco. Lando shows you the best spots— a garden just off the Monte Carlo marina, a famous nightclub that takes your breath away, and a small cafe at the edge of the city that overlooks it all.

Things are good, great even, but you can’t help but feel like there’s still some distance between you and Oscar despite his reassurance that everything is fine.

When New Year’s Eve— and subsequently your birthday— arrives, you’re awoken to a flurry of texts. Your parents have both sent sweet messages wishing you the best, Sophia has left a voice message with sounds of traffic in the background telling you she’s planning to get wasted and if you do too then you can just pretend you’re wasted together, and Dalton has made a group chat with you and Logan and has spammed you both with pictures of yourselves from across the years.

Oscar’s already gone, and his side of the bed is cold, so you take your time responding to them all and then shoot off a message of your own to Logan before getting up. It’s your first time not celebrating with your brother, and it feels strange knowing that you won’t get to see him today, but you’re excited nonetheless for the plans Lando and the other drivers in Monaco have organized for New Year’s Eve.

The day passes by lazily. Lando and Oscar both greet you with birthday wishes when you make your way down to the living room and then they present to you a feast for breakfast, which you realize is the reason Oscar was awake so much earlier than you. It’s the best breakfast you’ve ever had, mostly because they make fools of themselves retelling how many times they had to scrap the failed waffles until they got it right. You spend lunch at a place close by, joined by Alex and Lily who have flown in for the New Year, and then the rest of the afternoon you wait around at Lando’s place passing the time watching the boys play games on the TV and helping either of them cheat when asked.

You’re happy.

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tagged: yourusername

logansargeant people say twins are like built-in best friends, and if that’s the case then i’m glad i got you as mine. i can’t imagine having anyone else stick by my side throughout all the crazy and wild shit we’ve been through in our lives. it feels like just yesterday we were 13 and acting as each other's lifelines in a place we barely knew, and now we’re 23 and somehow doing the same thing. you’re my best friend forever.

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yourusername love you to the moon and back again logie 🫶 (but omg these pictures are so OLD)

↳ logansargeant love you to the stars and beyond 🫶 (yea well when else am i gonna post them?)

user i thought the only reason i’d be crying today is bc i don’t have a nye kiss but here we are aND THE BABY HANDS OMG

user I CAN’T DO THIS 😭😭😭

user sobbing over a birthday post was not on my 2023 bingo but i’ll be sure to add it to 2024 if this is gonna be a yearly thing

↳ user birthdays are a yearly thing so yea 💀

user i can’t stop thinking about the fact that each other was all they had when logan pursued racing in europe and now logan’s made it to f1 and they’re still all they have 😭

↳ user the sargeant twins are genuinely gonna be the death of me one of these days

user Y/N HAS BEEN THERE FOR HIM SINCE THE BEGINNING OMG

williamsracing Happiest of birthdays to Y/N! We look forward to seeing you out on the paddock more in 2024, and can’t wait to see what the new year has in store for you! 💙

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tagged: logansargeant

yourusername 23 + 23 = 46. 4 + 6 = 10. 10 - 2 = 8 and that’s what we’ve done for the last 23 years 😎 but real talk, i’m genuinely so honored to get to be your sister, and to share so much with you. when you win i share that joy, and when you lose i share that grief, and even though we’re an ocean away, i’m with you today and always for the rest of our lives. you’re my best friend, and even if i don’t have anything or anyone else, i know i have you and that makes me the luckiest girl in the world ❤️.

view all 934 comments

user ATE ATE ATE

logansargeant went through all the stages of grief as i read that caption

↳ yourusername i do try

↳ logansargeant i know

user HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARGEANT TWINS

user these pictures of logan are SENDING ME

↳ user y/n always feeds the ppl the low qual pics

alex_albon adding these to my folder of embarrassing pictures to blackmail logan with

↳ yourusername happy doing business with you sir 🤝

user SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

user my mental health is dependent on the friendship between y/n and logan and it is STRUGGLING today lads

user can’t wait to see more of them in 2024!!

Lando finds you as you’re getting ready, putting the final touches on your makeup. He enters when you tell him to, and then leans against the bathroom counter for a moment just staring at you before you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“How are things going between you and Oscar?”

You lower the mascara wand and shrug, “I mean, it’s good.”

“But?” He prompts.

“But I feel like he’s still… being weird?” You slip the wand back into the mascara tube and then tuck it back into your bag. “I don’t know. Maybe we were a bit too realistic with the whole ‘making him jealous’ thing, and now he believes you’ve stuck your claim and he’s distancing himself because he doesn’t want to step on your toes or something.”

Lando snorts, “As if. I made him share a room with you, how does that in any way imply that I’m trying to stake my claim on you?”

You run a hand through your hair because you can’t run it down your face without ruining your freshly done makeup, and heave a sigh. “Then maybe he just isn’t actually interested in me at all, and I was right about him wanting to pretend the kiss never happened.”

He hums, then nods once, twice, a third time, and finally leaves the bathroom without another word.

When you finally follow him down, a number of people have already arrived— Alex and Lily are among them, and you greet them again with smiles and hugs. You’re introduced to Max Fewtrell, one of Lando’s close friends, and then you’re dragged away by Lily to hang out in the corner of the living room as the house begins to fill with current and former drivers alike.

“It’s a sausage fest,” she jokes, and you laugh beside her.

You both make conversation for a while, catching up on her and Alex’s holiday spent in California with her family and then talking about your own in Florida with yours. She asks how Logan’s doing, and you tell her that he’s well, but he’s really motivated and wants the chance to prove himself in the 2024 season already.

“I think the online discourse about whether or not he deserved a seat got to him a bit,” you admit. “But I know he can show them that there’s a reason he was chosen.”

Lily nods. “Me and Alex have faith in him too. It was his rookie year and he was in a Williams of all things. Like you said, there was a reason he was chosen, he just needs the opportunity to show the world that.”

You jump from topic to topic for a little while longer, until you excuse yourself to go find where Lando and Oscar have run off to. The guests have all arrived from the looks of it, and while a number of them all know each other already and have split off into groups to stay entertained, you’re not sure exactly how you’re meant to handle things on your own when it isn’t even your house—

“I mean, it’s fine, yeah? It’s just awkward with her, I guess.” You pause. The door to you and Oscar’s shared room is ajar and Oscar’s voice is just barely audible over the sound of music and chatter filtering up from downstairs.

“Why d’you say that? It’s just Y/N.” Lando’s voice follows.

You press yourself up against the wall, heart pounding in your chest at the sound of your name. You can’t see anything, and that almost makes it worse— imagining what their faces look like as they talk about you.

“Just that it’s weird sleeping next to her, and I feel like I’m always having to walk on glass around her. I’m trying to make things normal again, but I don’t think I can. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep being friends with her. How can I look her in the face, knowing what happened?”

You can physically feel the dread settle into your stomach. Your heart clenches painfully in your chest and it’s like your blood has turned to ice in your veins. Your face feels warm, but the rest of your body feels cold, and suddenly it’s as though your ribcage has become too small for your lungs.

As quietly as you can, you scurry away from the door, across the distance of the hallway, and then down the stairs. Instead of turning into the living room where everyone else has gathered, their laughter and conversations a jumbled bubble of noise that makes your chest feel even tighter, you leave through the front door just as you feel tears begin to fall.

It’s worrying how frequently this has become an occurrence for you— crying because of Oscar.

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel

━━ a/n: ahhhh i'm sorry i cannot let them be happy!! also, wrote this really fast and struggled a bit because i genuinely couldn't decide if it was just too fast paced or not, so i apologize if it seems rushed or if there are any mistakes editing wise that i missed!

[thatdeadaquarius]

GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)

Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-

The almighty all powerful wise creator isss

✨️A literal child✨️

Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️

Baby you taking on the world aw

DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/

Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,

Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-

I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲

☆

Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short Headcanons

Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment any I missed. /gen

Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.

You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀

Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child

if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you

and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)

(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)

You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes

it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest

(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)

Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food

She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3

They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you

(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)

Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol

Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…

Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you

Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out

Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol

she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her

(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)

SPEAKING OF BARBATOS

ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)

if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol

takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go

tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)

anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want

(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)

(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)

☆

srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)

and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭

I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)

hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[coco-loco-nut]

Actress

Pairing: Logan x Reader

Summary: A former F2 driver gets the chance to star on the big screen.

A/n: I am so sorry this took so long. August was the busiest month of my internship and 60 hour work weeks are tough, plus an hour commute 🥲

masterlist requests open

———————

Filming in the Formula One paddock was something else. Sure, you have been here before, but this was something different. You were fulfilling your childhood dream of being a Formula One driver, kinda.

“We will start filming in 15,” your producer says at the end of their tangent. The race suit hangs at your hips as you stand, watching other drivers go by.

“Why does she look familiar?” Lando asks Oscar, both ready to collapse in their drivers rooms after a long qualifying session.

“She drove in Formula Two with Trident a few years ago,” Oscar quietly observes you, mentally debating whether it would be weird to approach you.

“She seems to be doing well for herself,” Lando hums, feeling ready to take a nap. Oscar steps away, deciding it’s more awkward to say nothing than to at least say hello.

“Hi, y/n, right? I’m Oscar, we used to race against each in F2,” Oscar extends his hand, unsure if you remember him. A bit silly, seeing as how you hung out a good amount.

“Of course, I remember. Too many adventures to forget. I considered copying your tweet to announce my contract wasn’t getting extended,” you smile, showing you aren’t upset.

“I’m sorry, you were a good driver,” Oscar offers, but you shake your head. You won a couple races in F2, but that was a lot of luck.

“I hit my ceiling, and there wasn’t going to be a seat waiting for me since I wasn’t in an F1 driver academy. I still drive occasionally in Indycar to keep my license,” you push down the little bit of longing, watching drivers walk through the paddock.

“How did you get into acting?” Oscar asks, genuinely curious at how you got involved in the movie.

“It was a bit of a wild experience. I applied to stunt drive for the film, but they liked my look and I guess I act well enough. So I ended up with one of the leads, a racing prodigy. Some tips on being one would be greatly appreciated,” Oscar’s cheeks flame when you call him a prodigy. He’s too humble for that.

“I wouldn’t say that. You know racing better than most, if not all, the people working on the movie, so I know you will be okay,” Oscar reassures you.

“Y/n, come to the garage. We film in ten,” an assistant comes to get you. You hesitate, not quite wanting to end your conversation.

“I’ll walk with you?” Oscar suggests, knowing you must feel a little out of place despite looking like you are meant to be here.

“Thanks. I can’t tell you the last time I was in a Formula One garage,” you say, letting out a sigh of relief. You would normally insist that he goes to his post-race meetings, but the accompaniment is needed.

“Anything for an old friend and rival,” Oscar jokes causing you both to chuckle, easing what’s left of the awkward tension.

“Is Logan still your bestie? I know you both were close,” you ask, your helmet feeling heavy in your hand.

“We are still close. I’m sure he’d love to see you again. He used to have a crush on you,” Oscar reveals as you get close to the garage the production team set up, you think it might actually be functional too.

“Aww, maybe we should get dinner sometime. Are you still with Lily?” you ask, feeling pre-race jitters even though you are only doing a few laps. There needs good film for both you and Pitt, so you are taking the track at different Grand Prix races this year.

“Yeah, it’s going well. Text me when you have a free weekend, I’ll get McLaren to invite you as a guest,” Oscar smiles, observing you. “You’ve been doing this all your life, it’s just you, the car, and the track,” he reminds you, sensing the nerves.

“Thanks, Oscar. It was nice to see a familiar face,” you say before heading into the garage. You thought it would be a standard F2 car, but you were wrong, they modified it to look like an F1 car.

You inspect your car, mentally noting what they changed and how it might affect your drive. After a quick conversation with Mercedes engineers, you get into the car, testing your radio and doing some final checks. Once the FIA clears you, you exit into pit lane, careful not to speed.

You keep your breathing steady, focusing on the feel of the car. You’ve raced at Silverstone before, this is no different. You did your track walk, you’ve sim raced, you warmed up and have kept up with your race training. After a lap to warm up your tires, you drive like you are racing. Each turn feels natural, your muscle memory kicking in and the car responding nicely. Oscar was right, you’ve been driving all your life, it’s just you and the car. You don’t waste the opportunity, pushing the car to its limits, driving on the edge. You prove why you belonged in F2. Indycar is great, but it isn’t the same.

“Two more laps then bring it in,” you hear over the radio, and you can’t help but wish you could drive more. There will be other filming opportunities, but you won’t lie and say that you didn’t miss racing regularly.

When you bring the car in, you feel like you are on cloud nine.

“It drives great, I hope those laps were good enough,” you smile, pulling off your helmet and balaclava.

“Spectacular drive, I knew having you in the car was a good choice,” Lewis says, appearing beside you. He’s working as a consultant on the movie, but you haven’t actually met him yet.

“Sir Hamilton, wow, I, um, thank you so much. It means a lot coming from you,” you stumble over your words, almost dropping your helmet.

“You raced in F2, without the support of an academy, and won a couple races. You are a good driver,” Lewis further compliments you. If you were to die right now, you would have no objections.

“I am literally at a loss for words, you have no idea how much that means coming from you. You inspired me to keep racing,” you are torn between crying and melting into the ground out of happiness.

“I look forward to watching your other drives, you have talent. It’s disappointing that you didn’t get another contract,” Lewis says a little offhandedly before heading back to Mercedes.

“We are going to get shots of you in the garage,” you are informed, before being requested to go back to hair and makeup.

“This is what it looks like to be a driver. We all aren’t Carlos, we don’t look flawless right after a race,” you joke as you push back again the request, pulling your balaclava back on.

You spend the next hour filming, and a part of you misses when you would be meeting with your team instead after driving laps. As you wrap up and change into something that isn’t your racing suit, aka sweat pants and an old team hoodie, you cannot wait to get back to the hotel.

“Y/n!” you quickly recognize the American accent. Logan jogs to catch up with you.

“Hey, Logan. Sorry about qualifying, tough luck,” you smile sympathetically as he shrugs.

“Can’t do much when the car is slow. Congrats on the role, I’m glad you were able to find footing after not getting resigned,” he says, clearly aware of his uncertain future.

“There is still tomorrow,” you offer, hoping to reassure him a little.

“It was nice to see you drive again, you did some great laps. Was that an F1 car?” Logan asks, changing the topic.

“Modified F2 car. It was great, the car felt amazing,” you smile as Logan walks beside you. A small part of you hopes that a team will watch your drive and sign you.

“Well maybe one day you will get to drive one for real. After the race tomorrow we should go out for drinks,” Logan says, quickly adding on “you, me, and Oscar,” to the end.

“Sounds great, I missed you guys,” your car is parked in the opposite direction of Logan’s. You start walking away and Logan watches as you approach your car. As he is about to turn away, you turn back towards him. “Maybe we could grab drinks without Oscar sometime?” you yell, hoping you aren’t shooting the wrong shot and Oscar was right.

“I’d like that,” Logan calls back, his cheeks flushed. With a smile you turn back to your car, looking forward to the date.

You arrive to the Paddock early the next day, wanting to catch the F2 race. Trident invited you go visit, and you can’t deny you wanted to take the opportunity to network. It is also nice to catch up with your former team.

“Great drive, yesterday. You posted some pretty good times,” Maurizio compliments. You haven’t spoken much to your former team principal since you left F2.

“Thank you, it was nice to be behind the wheel again,” you take it gracefully, knowing there’s a fine line between demonstrating skill and boasting.

“Perhaps we can discuss a contract sometime,” he leaves you with those parting words and you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement. You make sure to take your exit as soon as the race ends, not wanting to make anything awkward.

Earlier you received a text from someone at Mercedes telling you how to pick your paddock and hospitality pass. Lewis apparently asked them to invite you to watch from the Mercedes hospitality after your drive yesterday. So now you are on the hunt to find the hospitality.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you notice someone start walking beside you.

“Hey, Logan,” you don’t know why, but you can feel the heat of a blush creeping over your fac. “Don’t you have a race to prepare for?” You question, an attempt to distract him.

“I have time before the driver’s parade and I saw you out here,” Logan throws his arm around your shoulder.

“Lucky me, then. I was just on my way to Mercedes, want to show me where I’m going?” you smoothly ask, feeling your stomach flip in anticipation.

“That I can do,” he smiles down at you, happy to show you around. You make small talk as he points things out on your walk, and you don’t know any better so he takes you the long way.

“Hey, you are the girl in that F1 movie, the prodigy,” you instantly recognize Daniel Ricciardo. Logan is a little confused, not having many run-in’s with the VCARB driver, but he rolls with it.

“Yeah,” you nod, blushing from embarrassment. These guys are the best in the world and you are just imitating them.

“We drove in F2 together,” Logan interjects, causing Daniel to look at the two of you in surprise.

“Ah, sick! That’s so cool. Good to know there is a real driver in it. I gotta go but it was nice meeting you!” With that, the Honey Badger left, wearing his iconic smile.

“He is an interesting guy,” you can’t help but smile in amusement as you reflect on the interaction.

“You got that right. Have you met Alex and Lily? I’ll have to invite you to a race soon, give you a reason to hang around,” Logan says, turning up his flirting. He never got over his crush for you.

“I haven’t, and I hate to break the news, but Oscar called dibs on inviting me to the next race. Maybe you two can share custody,” you joke as you pass McLaren, only making it funnier.

The drop off at Mercedes was a bit rushed. Turns out, Logan lied about having plenty of time before the Driver’s Parade, but in his defense, he didn’t really look at a clock before stopping you. That was also how you met George Russell.

Unfortunately for Oscar and Logan, you had to cancel on post-race drinks. You got called back to the studio for an early shoot, meaning you left after the race and caught the next plane back to America.

The bright side is that there wasn’t a race the next week, so Logan took advantage and caught a flight to surprise you. He may be a guy, but he was able to pick up on the flirting the both of you were doing. Logan arrived at your hotel soon after you were done filming for the day, and knocked on the door. The only reason he knew your hotel room number is because he said he was going to doordash you food after the long few days.

“Thanks for bringing it to my room, here’s an extra-“ you stop mid sentence when you realize it isn’t a dasher at your hotel room door.

“I hope McDonald’s is okay? I’ve been craving fries,” he smiles, amused by your stunned reaction.

“I don’t know whether I want to cry or hug you,” you open the door wider so he can enter the room.

“This isn’t how I pictured our first date,” you comment after a few minutes of eating food that you probably shouldn’t be and watching comfort movies. Logan almost chokes on his fry.

“I’ll make it up to you then, take you out on a proper date,” he vows.

“I like this, though. Our lives are so crazy anyway,” you smile to yourself as he wraps an arm around you, letting you get closer to him. The both of you enjoy small talk throughout the movie, your head ending up on his shoulder, fighting off the sleep that threatens to creep in.

Logan hears your soft snores as the movie ends and quietly watches you. He ponders just falling asleep too, claiming you both dozed off during the movie, but it feels too soon. So, he carefully wakes you up so it seems like you didn’t doze off.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” you comment, unsure if you fell asleep or not.

“I didn’t either. I should go, early flight and all that,” Logan grimaces, not ready to leave.

“Do you have a hotel room? You can stay here if needed,” you offer.

“No, no, it’s okay. I got a room for the night. I wouldn’t want to impose,”

“Well, I had a great time. I look forward to our next,” you smile, face close to Logan’s. He strongly debates kissing you, but he doesn’t want to screw this up, so he slowly pulls away.

“I do too. Sleep well,” with a boyish smile, he quietly exits. You lay back in the bed with a content sigh.

You and Logan dated quietly, not wanting to make a big deal out of things. The fans loved it when you hung out with him, Oscar, and some other drivers from your F2 days. They especially loved it when Trident announced you would be rejoining the team next season, right after filming finishes.

The best part about driving F2 was that you could skip a lot of the press tour stuff, but you did try. Somehow, you got Logan to agree to attend the London premiere with you. It was a big deal, all of the grid is expected to attend.

He is the first out of the car once you reach the red carpet, quickly making his way to your door so he can assist you out.

“Are you ready?” he asks with a slightly nervous smile. It’s your first public outing as a couple, despite your soft launching.

“With you? Always,” you confidently take the red carpet, answering questions and posing for cameras. At some point, Oscar and Lily join you both, happy to take group pictures.

“There is our star,” Oscar says when they arrive.

“Thank you for being here! I’m excited for everyone to see it,” you smile, a little on edge around so many Formula One legends. You swear you even saw Guenther Steiner walk past you.

“I didn’t know you two were dating,” George says once you make it inside where everyone is mingling.

“I convinced her somehow,” Logan smiles at you, clearly enamored.

“Well, you two look great together. Let’s get coffee sometime,” George says before walking away. Logan just signed with Mercedes, and you were so proud. He tried to play it down, but you made sure to celebrate it.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asks, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“A little nervous, it’s a great movie, but I’m nervous. There’s been some recent negativity because I’m a driver and starred in the movie. Something to do with pushing the female driver agenda,” you shift your weight back and forth. Logan pulls you close to him, providing a support as you take the moment to relax before starting your rounds again.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n, let me introduce you to some friends of mine,” Brad Pitt says as you walk past him with Logan. You stay for a minute before Logan provides an exit plan.

“I think we should head to our seats, don’t want to miss the movie,” he says, smoothly allowing you to leave and go into the theater. You are seated beside Lewis, who has mentored and coached you this season.

Before you know it, the movie is starting. The scene pans down from the sunset to your car flying on the track. As you turn the corner, an engineer is shown analyzing your data with a headset on. Silently, other motion to screens, nodding along with a comment. All you can hear is the roar of the engine on track as the engineer activates his radio.

“Box box,”

[darylsdelts]

What about angst with Daryl??? I have a bot I made for myself following this thought 💀

Like an argument where things get said, causing silence for a couple of days and then boom! Next time you see him, it’s at the lineup…and then he gets taken…and then we see him again in Hilltop 🥲🥲🥲

(i actually broke my own heart with this one, my bot is so realistic it hurts 😭)

Anon! Drop the link RIGHT NOW!!!

This made my heart drop, I just know my poor boy would be blaming himself for everything.

Immediately after the argument, all Daryl wanted to do was come back to you and apologise in his own way. He wanted to hug you and tell you he didn’t mean what he said… but he didn’t.

He gave you some space, knowing it was probably best for both of you. The next few days were close to hell. Every time he’d see you on the streets of Alexandria he’d stare, hoping for atleast a bit of eye contact to know you were okay but you would just pretend you hadn’t seen him.

Daryl didn’t know that he could feel that sort of pain in his chest, like he was being physically crushed.

Christ, is this what women can do?

From then on he’d assume the worst.

You didn’t love him anymore.

So he’d pretend nothing ever happened, he’d talk to you if it were necessary but otherwise acted like the old Daryl, the one you had met before the spark grew.

Little did Daryl know how badly that hurt you… you were in the same position, you wanted to give him space and assumed he’d come back when he was ready but he never did.

So you assumed the worst.

He didn’t love you anymore.

You went along with Daryl’s act, assuming that’s what he had wanted you to do… but you missed him, you missed your Daryl. The one you had finally managed to break the defences of, the one who was starting to be more open with you but now all of that was gone, it disappeared like it never happened.

It was getting harder to monitor when Daryl was out and when he was within the walls since now he didn’t leave notes for you, but you’d seen him ride out today, seemingly angry about something but you could also tell he was hurting. You weren’t sure what had happened, no one had told you as of yet but some hours later you were sure that Daryl’s absence was something to worry about.

But you never thought it would be this.

You were pushed to your knees, your family lined up either side of you in a small clearing. The back doors of a van opened up, you couldn’t see what or who was in there but there was some commotion… and then loud panting.

You knew… god you fucking knew something happened, you should have spoken up earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be getting dragged out of a van right now, his shoulder leaking blood onto some sort of blanket that had been draped around him.

Fuck, did he get shot?

You lean forward, trying to look down the line of your family to catch Daryl’s gaze.

And after all those weeks, you finally did.

Daryl looked at you through his sweaty locks, his eyes dark and watery with frustration, his eyebrows twitch downwards when he saw you, he saw the fear and concern on your face and all of it was too much, he had to look away or he was gonna throw up from anxiety.

It was torture for Daryl, knowing you were frightened, knowing all of this before him was his fault.

When that asshole, Negan, stuck that damn bat in your face is when he lost all control of himself. Daryl jumped up and smashed his fist into Negan’s jaw, then trying to take further steps to tackle him but he was grabbed and pushed to the ground like a wild fucking animal.

He grunted and squirmed as his hair was pulled, he could hear you crying for them to stop.

“Get off of him! Get off! Daryl, get up!”

Fuck, he was trying to.

Eventually he was dragged back to his place in the line.

He wanted to look over to you but he was so fucking scared now, his heart was beating way too fast and his head was spinning.

He stole a short glance your way and he saw your hands covering your face, palms pushing into your eyes as you choked on your sobs.

He’d done this to you.

You would never forgive him for this.

Daryl just had to sit there, bleeding out from his shoulder as Negan battered members of his family before his eyes, he was sure he’d been the cause for the second death, Glenn. Maybe if he’d just stay put, he could’ve stopped that, he should’ve listened.

“No exceptions”

But he didn’t and it was his fault, he’d have to leave his family, they would never allow for someone like him to live with them now.

Turns out, that was the one thing he didn’t need to worry about, as he was stuffed straight back into the van, apparently Negan wanted to keep him.

Daryl doesn’t know how long he was in that cell for, it felt like years and all he could do was think of you. He was so fucking sorry and he knew he’d never get the chance to make it up to you and even if he did, you wouldn’t want to hear it. Rick wouldn’t want him back in the group but Daryl couldn’t stay here, he’d have to get out and survive on his own, completely.

With some help from one of ‘Negan’s wives’, Daryl escaped, however, his plan of escaping and surviving alone dissipated once he saw Jesus stood in front of him.

He’d come to get him out.

They wanted him back?

Back home?

Surely not.

The journey to hilltop was a fever dream, Daryl was unbelievably anxious, his breaths short, causing Jesus to keep checking on him to which Daryl didn’t reply to. In fact Daryl hadn’t opened his mouth the entire time.

As soon as they arrived at the gates, he could feel his throat closing up.

Were you here? Did you even want to see him? Probably not.

As the gates opened, Daryl kept his head down, following behind Jesus toward one of the medical trailers.

But then he heard his name.

“Daryl?… Daryl?!”

Daryl’s head slowly lifted to the direction of the voice, your voice. You were speed walking, no, now you were running toward him. You slung your arms around him, burying your face into his neck as you cried with… relief.

“You’re here, you’re back, you’re safe… safe now… I’m sorry, I love you so much, Daryl”

Daryl stood as still as stone. You were sorry? He should be the one apologising. You’re glad he’s back? You love him? You still love him.

His heart clenches at the thought.

He feels you pull away, your soft hands holding the sides of his face as your beautiful sparkly eyes look into his own. God he doesn’t deserve this.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Suddenly it all seems to sink in and tears are blurring his vision as he shakes his head slightly, no.

“It’s gonna be okay now, you’re here with me now”

He could feel the life flooding back into him, pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he completely breaks down, hiding his face from the world as he lets out loud, uncontrolled sobs into the fabric of your shirt.

“M-M’s-sorry…. M’so-orry… L-love you so m-much…”

You gently rub his back to soothe him, now realising that your sweet man had blamed himself for everything that had happened.

“Ssshh it’s not your fault… let’s get you inside”

You feel him nod ever so slightly and then you lead him towards barrington house, all whilst trying to stay away from prying eyes of the community.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Daryl”

He didn’t reply with words but agreed internally, however, he meant it differently. It didn’t matter where he was, wherever you were was home and he’s so relieved to still have that.

This is so badly written, I’m sorry! But Tysm for the prompt! This was pretty fun to write.

[charliedawn]

Hannibal Family x vegetarian reader, how they would react?

Love your account btw 

(Aww. Thanks, dearie. And I am sorry. I unfortunately misread your request and did the slashers. If you want the Hannibals, please send the request again. 🥲)

Penny and Pennywise:

"…No meat ?"

Penny would be stunned. He lives on meat. He wouldn’t understand how somebody could eat rabbit food and feel content. He’d just stare at you for a moment before grimacing in disgust. But, he would eventually get used to it and summon you popcorn at random moments.

While Pennywise would laugh.

"A vegetarian ? Seriously ? And you chose to work with slashers ?"

Let’s be honest, slashers are NOT vegetarian. Especially not the Penny Brothers. They love meat. They live on meat. They thrive on it. They like blood. They like tearing through flesh and devouring corpses. So really ? Having a vegetarian nurse would make them laugh.

Patrick Bateman:

Patrick Bateman would understand.

Health is everything to him and to stay healthy, you need to eat vegetables and fruits. He does have a balanced diet, so he would probably still eat meat. But he doesn’t particularly enjoy it. He doesn’t particularly enjoy anything really.

Jason Voorhees:

Jason does eat a lot of vegetables and fruits compared to other slashers. But, he also enjoys cooking steak and meat in general. He enjoys nature, but also enjoys the thrill of the hunt. And he believes that what nature gives, he has the right and the duty to take. Actually, Jason hates to eat anything that isn’t natural. This is why he likes searching for his own food. (blueberries, strawberries, wild boars, deers…)

Bo Sinclair:

"…You a what ?"

Bo would smirk. He is a hunter. He has a rifle. He basically goes every Sunday hunting in the woods. He wouldn’t understand your choice, but he would accept it eventually. But for food ? You would rather ask Lester or Vincent. They would have a better diet than Bo who, if there is not meat on the table, would probably cause a scene.

Jade:

Jade is a vegetarian.

She would cook for you and share recipes with you. Her favourite thing in the world is soup. She awaits winter just to have some lovely soup that she happily slurps on during dinner while the other slashers stare weirdly at her. Because none of them understand the joy of warm soup.

Norman Bates:

Norman would adapt quickly to your diet.

He would prepare different meals for you than the other guests of the motel he runs. He would also try it himself. He is a rather open-minded individual and enjoys trying new things on a regular basis. He could even get used to it himself.

Michael Myers:

Michael is…a man of habit.

And in his many habits, there is ‘eat what you can and don’t be picky’. Because let’s be honest, that man is a survivalist. He survived years and years by eating whatever he could whenever he could. And whatever food he finds, he eats. So he wouldn’t be a vegetarian, but he IS an excellent cook. So he would make your meals and believe it or not, they would be pretty damn delicious !

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms is a vegetarian.

…

..

.

He only eats sweets, cakes and fries.

He eats like a kid and the only meat he may not refuse is chicken nuggets. Because chicken nuggets.

He keeps in shape because he burns calories faster than a running cheetah.

Freddy:

Freddy *sees vegetables on his plate* : "…What’s that shit ?"

Yup. Freddy is not a vegetarian.

Never will be.

He wants his burgers, pepperoni pizzas and hotdogs. Everything else is just rubbish in his plate.

[coltermorning]

Of Love and Loss Ch. 21 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: In the small town of Ogallala, you and Arthur nurture feelings for each other that become increasingly hard to deny with each passing day and each word spoken.

Author’s Notes: Sorry this one took me so long. I couldn’t get it quite right for weeks, and part of me hates to part with it anyway because I’m getting so close to the end 🥲 Sexual content in this chapter. Chapter twenty-one of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

~

Of Love and Loss

Twenty-One: Love

Word count: 3726

This room was unlike the others. That airy barn had the memory of your childhood home and Beth on it, the last hotel room the sharpness of fear. You’d thought that that room would be the one to stay with you, but you tried to forget it now. Now, there was only this room, the safety in it, and Arthur. Maybe the latter two went hand in hand.

Your eyes found said safety in the growing darkness, watching him reverently in the low light. He’d lit a lamp earlier, and its golden glow reflected in his shining hair, his exposed skin, his gemstone eyes. You would never tire of that gaze. Normally, you found a smirk beneath it, but now his mouth matched his heavy stare—thoughtful and filled with something very close to desperation. It wasn’t difficult to guess why. Love did that to a person.

You had thought there would never be a feeling stronger than grief, stronger than the helpless agony that came with it. But love was the one thing to outweigh it. Rather, requited love was. Feeling wanted again was all your heart needed to stitch itself back together. To be loved was to be needed. And that triumphed grief every time.

You weren’t only thinking of yourself as you studied the man beside you. You thought of him and of how unlikely a match he was for you. But it was beginning to make sense. He, like you, was all wild animal, untamed, worth more than mankind could give. He wasn’t defined by the constructs of a normal personhood just as you weren’t. Neither of you were made for fleeting little relationships, if any at all. And perhaps that’s why it worked so well to be together, the feeling as natural as breathing. Because there were no expectations. He made sure of that, and you were too inexperienced and fond of him to form them. Being with a man emotionally or physically scared you before because it had always seemed confining. But you knew without a doubt that if you chose to go alone to the next town and never look back at this trip and all it brought between you, Arthur would let you. He wouldn’t hesitate. And because of that, he was freeing in a way no one had ever been to you. Not even your parents.

You were so caught up in his gaze and your thoughts that you were startled by the sudden sound of bootsteps opposite the door, flinching in his grasp as deputy badges and blood flashed across your vision.

“Easy,” he said lowly, pulling you in closer on the bed as the sound faded.

“Just…jumpy over the last time that happened.”

“Ain’t no law here to worry about,” Arthur said, stroking your hair.

He was right. And you were again reminded that this hotel room was very different from the last.

“I know,” you replied, though you couldn’t quite convince yourself after having lived through the hell that was the last town. That ringing gunshot that would never leave you be sounded again.

“Hey.” He lifted your chin so you would meet his eyes. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.”

Those words hit you like a physical blow. His protectiveness made you feel loved, but it was the truth of it that drove his point home. Because you had no doubt he would tear apart the world to keep you safe. Just as you had. You’d broken every moral you had just to keep him from harm. But you would do it all again. And, knowing Arthur, you bet he felt the same thing tenfold.

You smiled against his hand. “I know.” This time, you meant it.

After a moment and a smile so sure you wanted to keep it there forever, Arthur shifted. “Sit up.”

You did as he asked, watching as he reached for his journal. Thinking he meant to draw you again, you blushed. Especially as there was no coat this time, just bare skin between you only partially covered by a blanket at your hips. But to your surprise, he reached for your hair and tugged on that horsehair braid he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of, flattening it so that he could see the contrasting colors better.

“What is it with you and this braid?”

He shifted again so that he was far enough away to get the general picture of you sitting there, though that wasn’t saying much in the tiny bed. He was still close, and you watched his eyes focus in on your braid as he flipped to a blank page and readied his pencil, ignoring your question completely.

Wanting to know what it meant to him, you pushed. “Hard of hearing?”

“I heard you,” he said, still focusing hard on your hair. A few seconds passed as he began drawing. You didn’t think he would answer you until he shook his head, continuing to look down at his journal as he spoke. “I draw things so I don’t forget ‘em. There are a few moments I’ll never forget when it comes to you, but that braid, I want to remember even after it’s gone.”

You were warmed by the sincerity in this, but your curiosity got the better of you. “What moments will you never forget?”

Again, he took a beat to answer. “Looking at your side all bruised and bloody and my shitty attempt at stitches holding it all together. When you said ‘how could you’.”

You’d forgotten that. It had been months, and somehow his words had you remembering how the wagon you’d woken up in after he had stitched you up made your skin crawl. He went on, dispelling any further thought about it.

“The first time you let me touch you. The way you said ‘don’t stop’.”

This one made your heart race. He still pushed on.

“When I killed those wolves and came back in the tent to find you with that look on your face, like you were ready to die. The way you pulled me to you.” He stopped drawing and looked up at you. “That was the first time I felt like you really cared whether I was there or not. The first time you wanted my comfort.”

It was true. It was the first time you’d relied on him in your brokenness, the first time clinging to him felt like healing.

You smiled at him.

He went back to penciling in his journal. “And,” he said, drawing the word out in that drawl of his. “You asked me for that horsehair like it was the last gift you could give that horse. I knew it right then, the kind of woman you was. Thoughtful and tough as hell.”

You’d thought nothing of the act at the time, at least not in the way it would be viewed by Arthur. It was natural. Maybe that was why he admired you for it.

He went on. “I didn’t realize I enjoyed getting to know the woman you was before all this mess until then. Until I thought you would slip away again. But then you came out of that tent with this braid in your hair…”

He stopped and admired it, a smile turning his lips. “And you was still with me. And I was…relieved. Happy, even. That braid shows that strength of yours.”

For the first time since arriving in this town, you felt like crying. But not over any sadness. He had a way with words that surprised you. Your eyes fell to the page, to the way he had drawn part of your braid with such tenderness. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind he meant every word.

Unable to voice your thoughts, or perhaps wanting to hold what he’d said in your heart a little longer, you teased him instead. “So, when you drew me in that barn, what were you trying to remember then?”

His smile turned into a smirk, one you were all too familiar with. “How good you looked in my coat.”

His gaze was hot on your skin, growing wanting as he watched you. And in seconds, his journal was pushed aside and forgotten, traded for his want of you, his need to touch you, his desire. To be that desire meant so much to you that your heart pounded a heavy beat in your chest, like it wanted to be loved by him too, craving that closeness.

Falling into him, you granted your heart exactly what it asked for.

~

The days bled together, and Arthur had no intention of moving on to the next town. As long as you wanted to stay here, he would stay with you. The only bit of business he attended to in the meantime was sending a letter back to the gang, thinking it was likely they’d made it to Denver a while back and would stay until they heard from him. The thought made Arthur smile—that wild bunch on the edges of town, restless and ready to bound out of there at a moment’s notice. They weren’t meant for staying in a big town like that just as he weren’t.

The only trouble with the letter had been what to put in it. Arthur hadn’t known what to say to the group he considered family. He was torn between staying with you and going back to them, knowing either would serve him well. But he was leaning toward staying, starting a life he had only ever dreamed of. Every time he considered it though, it felt too good to be true. It always was when he was younger, and who was he to deserve it now? Had he really changed at all? The truth to that was no, he hadn’t. Maybe he could be decent, but he still had a past on him that he didn’t want catching up to you. But so did you now, killing that deputy. All things considered, he was left feeling even more confused every time he pondered it. So, his letter had been short and nondescript, stating where he was and to write back when and where the gang inevitably moved. He posted the letter and left all thought of it behind him, knowing going in circles about it all wouldn’t do him any good. Instead, he returned to you and vowed to keep his mind on you, on this time you shared together and how right it felt. No matter that, like always, the town and its memories would soon be behind you both.

It wasn’t difficult to keep you in the front of Arthur’s mind. You were a gift, something he didn’t deserve. And all this time spent with you kept him sated like he never had been, his restless heart daring to settle for the first time since he was a boy.

The day had reached its end with the two of you still in bed. Arthur had done exactly what you’d asked of him those days ago, teaching you all the ways he knew how to pleasure a woman. But this was perhaps different, as there never was any meaning behind it until he met you.

Even worse was your blunt curiosity and the things you asked that got him so hard he could hardly see straight. He figured the worst of it was when you’d asked him to teach you how to pleasure him. He was wrong. It was moments ago, when you’d turned to him with a blush on your face and asked if you could ride him. Well, those hadn’t been your exact words, but that was all Arthur could come up with now as you made to do the very thing.

His hands found your hips in seconds upon you climbing on top of him. It took everything in him to be gentle.

“Tell me if I do something wrong,” you said in a voice close to a whisper.

He found a lazy grin sneaking its way across his face, for the way your shyness showed, for the way you climbed on top of him anyway. Sure as ever.

“What?” you said upon seeing his smile.

“I like you on top of me,” he said honestly. Because he did. Nothing turned him on more. But he couldn’t go on without teasing you at least a little. “I like you wantin’ to ride me.” He squeezed your hips with his fingers, tugging you closer. Your face went bright red at those words.

“What’s the matter?” he teased.

You kept looking from his eyes to his mouth like you couldn’t decide if you wanted to slap him or kiss him. The smile on your face was timid, but it was blatant as the day was long that he’d called you out and you wouldn’t well deny it.

You wouldn’t meet his eye as you said, “I like it too.”

Arthur’s grin went wide, and he bucked his hips underneath you for good measure. Pure pleasure met him as he did, the movement against your slick like heaven.

You let out a little moan, bracing your hands on his chest as you made to line yourself up with him. He would never tire of the distracted look you got on your face, like his body and what he was doing to yours was all you could think about. It made a pride he could hardly contain take hold.

You reached your hand down and fisted him so gently he couldn’t stand it. That is, until the head of his cock slid into you, and you met his eye and sat completely, making him suck in a sharp breath. He still held your hips with gripping fingers, but it was all he could do not to focus solely on how deep he was buried in you, on moving fast and hard. Instead, he let you set your own pace as you watched him with a heavy gaze, your lips parting when you began to move up and down on him.

It was downright sinful, the feeling it brought him. He pulled you in tighter, moving his hands with your hips. Ignoring all else. He didn’t give a shit what he looked or sounded like, so long as you didn’t stop.

“Arthur?”

He met your eye, only able to do so since your tone had the hint of a question in it. You kept riding him, grating and slow, as you spoke. “I want to- oh…”

You drug the word out, your head falling back in your pleasured state. It was so goddamn arousing Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He held you down against him and bucked upward, hard, making you moan for him as your breasts started bouncing with how fast he moved. Fuck, that did it.

“Want to what?” he gritted out.

You looked downright erotic, your heavy eyes falling over him like sex given form as you answered, “Want to feel your release inside of me.”

Arthur slowed his pace, your words hitting him so hard he knew he would spill inside you anyway if he weren’t careful.

“Ain’t too smart, darlin’.”

“I don’t care.”

In this moment, he didn’t either. He didn’t care about the consequences, even though it would normally bother him after Isaac. If anything, he was in a place to be with you, to raise a child with you if it came to that. So to hell with all his usual fear and regret.

“You sure?” he grimaced, still pumping his cock into you as deep as he could.

“Yes. If you are.”

Surprising himself, he was.

Arthur lifted you up and off of him, needing to do what he’d been wanting to for some time now. Of all the pleasure the two of you had wrought from each other, there was one remaining untried thing Arthur felt was a bit selfish but knew you would get just as much enjoyment out of as he would. And he did that now, turning you so that you remained facing the bed as he crawled behind you.

“This okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please…”

“Please what?” Arthur pushed your shoulders down to the bed gently, the head of his cock meeting your slick again. He nearly shook in anticipation.

“Please take me. Hard.”

If that weren’t encouragement enough, Arthur slid into you so deep you tightened around him. “Christ,” he grimaced. Then he moved. And he had to close his eyes and focus hard to keep his release at bay.

Arthur rocked his hips fast, knowing the second he watched how perfectly your bodies met, this would be over. So he focused on you first, on the sounds you made and what you seemed to like best. You moaned the loudest when he gripped your hips again and fucked you harder, so he kept on, letting you feel just how much you affected him as he drove deep.

“Arthur,” you whined, his name so needy on your tongue he almost lost it.

“That’s it,” he said lowly, taking one hand away and moving it around you, his finger coming down on those nerves that made you buck against him.

That really made you cry out. And Arthur felt a pride like none other, a protectiveness and a possessiveness that made him want to spend inside you, make you his. His grip on you tightened as his finger swirled against you.

In seconds, your pleasure rocked through you, making those inner muscles of yours flutter and work against Arthur’s cock. His eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure took over. Then it was all feeling, all you at his mercy, pleading his name like he was actually worthy of this.

For once in his life, Arthur let go of all the control, all the responsibility and sense he held so close. He released it like a breath and took you like a man should take a woman, for the sheer purpose of desire and need and maybe even love. He shuddered then slid home one last time with your name on his lips, spilling inside of you as you continued to come down around him. It was comforting and fitting and so incredibly right that his chest caught at the feeling.

“Yes,” you breathed. “God, yes.”

He wanted to repeat it back to you. But he stayed there silent, finally daring to look down at where you were met. And Christ, was it a sight, almost like he was meant to be there. He rolled his hips, unable to resist wanting to keep his spend deep inside you. It was primal and perhaps idiotic of him, but he couldn’t help it. He already wanted to do it all over again.

You both breathed heavy and refused to separate, caught there in this moment that, if you were lucky, would never have to reach its end.

But end it did, only because your body was giving out. He hadn’t realized how hard he took you until then, until your muscles protested enough to make you begin to fall to the bed. He slid out of you and caught you, letting you down slowly. He rolled you onto your back, meeting your satisfied gaze. “You okay? I didn’t mean to-”

“That’s all I ever wanted. And all I’ll ever want again.”

A smile turned his lips, catching him off guard. He never expected to smile after doing something so reckless, hope filling him where regret normally would.

“Good,” he replied. And you smiled back, the sight a tired thing. He leaned down and kissed you. When he broke away, the look you gave him hit him just as hard as all his arousal had. It was a look of complete trust. Like you’d found a home in him. He never thought he’d see the day a woman looked at him like that.

“Don’t know about you,” you said laboredly, “but I’m spent.”

He chuckled at just how spent he was, not bothering to reply as he wrapped you up in his arms to sleep. Nothing more than a man and the woman he loved, as normal a life as he could have ever imagined.

~

You and Arthur very much overstayed your welcome in the small town of Ogallala. Both of you mentioned leaving a time or two but could never quite convince yourselves to saddle up and do it. So you stayed, carving out a little life for yourselves filled with the ease of routine.

Eventually though, you could tell money was getting tight when Arthur began choosing dried meat over his preferred canned goods from the general store. It made you guilty enough to know it was time to move on. Maybe your end destination would be as kind to you as this town had been, and you wouldn’t have to worry about ending this precious time together. You hadn’t talked about it, but you were beginning to believe that Arthur would stay with you. So, holding onto that hope, you finally gave in to leaving.

“What, tired of my company?” he’d teased when you brought it up, both of you already at the stables visiting your mounts.

You shot him a look that warned of a swat to the arm but said, “Not even a little.”

That earned you one of those genuine smiles he rarely gave, like your words were healing him stitch by stitch. But he agreed, and the pair of you gathered up and mounted.

You watched the town slowly fall away into the distance as you left it, turning to look at it so many times Arthur laughed at you. “It ain’t going nowhere, you know.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s true.”

“That’s what you’re always saying.”

He shot you a smirk that could tear down the world and every forlorn woman in it. How lucky you were that he was yours. You thought of telling him so, of telling him how much you cared for him, but your heart began racing, and the words died on your lips. Instead, you opted to tease him right back—his and your form of endearment. And his resulting happiness made you know that it was just as special to him as saying those three precious words.

_________

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[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#3: The Getting Back To You (1.01)

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Let me just start this one by saying - we been knew. 👌🏽 We knew Rick’s sole focus would be getting back to his wife and daughter, even when some incessantly begged to differ. But in case anyone didn’t believe it back then - something I’ve always applauded and will always appreciate about the character of Rick Grimes is that he too is gonna let everyone know that Michonne is his everything and the one who's been fueling him to get home. She is home, so it makes sense. And in these next few scenes, Rick’s letter voice-over makes that sentiment loud and clear...

So Rick wakes up from his dream and just has a quiet lonely moment to himself in his room. And then we hear him speak and I love that he’s speaking to Michonne. As he’ll say later, this is the only way he’s able to feel something in the CRM, by reaching out and speaking to his wife. 🥺

And as he’s forced to endure another day in the CRM, he lays in bed and even sorta holds himself in a way that reminds me of when Michonne held herself on their bed after putting on his shirt.

These soulmates and even their subtlest parallels move me. We know from the main show Rick and Michonne are so used to waking up in each other's arms and it’s almost like now they both hold themselves in the way the other would have had they not been separated. 🥲

It’s also sweet and heartbreaking that both Michonne and Rick still talked to each other like they were still in every way partners while they were apart. Michonne did so by talking aloud to him in their bedroom and Rick did so in the abundance of letters he’d write to her. 

Episode 1 really showed that Rick has stayed as deeply and loyally in love with Michonne as she was in love with him while apart. Like they both acted as though they were taken and fully married to each other still.

So with helicopters in the background, the voiceover starts with Rick saying, “I always thought I would wait to tell you everything when we were finally back together.” 

This is definitely the saddest of the TOWL episodes and hearing Rick say he thought he’d be able to tell Michonne all these things in person when they were back together but now he’s realized he just has to tell her now in a letter he knows she likely won’t receive. 😢

One; I just know Rick is so aware of how much he and Michonne both long to be together. Like during season 9, their union was the most solid and flourishing thing in their life and then it was abruptly taken away and all they want is to get back to that.

Two; I also love how in these letters Rick was basically like 'I don’t care how much the CRM loves their secrets, I’m spilling all their tea to my wife. She gets to know everything y’all got going on because...

#DirectQuoteFromRicksMind 😋 (and that’s how we know it’s always an unhealthy Rick whenever he’s keeping things from her.)

And then he says, “That it’d just be a story on the porch after the sun went down when we could barely see each other.” So sweet and sad. 🥲 He was so convinced that this wild experience would be swiftly handled and he’d be home to her, likely never expecting it would take years and years.

I also love what he says here because I had hoped that TOWL would give us some little insights into aspects and memories of Richonne’s relationship we didn’t get to see on screen and I love learning one of their things was sitting on the porch just talking with each other into the late hours of the night. It reminds me of their canon ep and how they clearly always enjoy ending their day talking and decompressing together. 

Rick says, “But I have to tell you now. Not everything. I can’t face everything.” as he takes out several letters and phones of Michonne and a younger and older Judith from the couch cushion. My heart. ❤️‍🩹 I love that he has so many phone drawings of his wife and daughter and their images are so accurate. Rick remembers his girls so vividly and clearly describes them well considering the artist even got the details right of how Michonne would wear her hair in different styles. 😊

gif cred: @kris-lulu

After being plucked from his home, these phone images are the only things really tethering Rick to who he is. 😢 He never made himself at home with the Civic Republic all these years and you see it through his barren apartment.

It’s not until he opens the couch cushion, where he essentially hides himself, that we see there is any true traces of Rick Grimes in this place, and of course, those traces are through illustrations of his wife and daughter and the letters he writes to Michonne.

It’s sad that he’s had to hide that part of himself to protect them. The hidden phones and letters feel symbolic of all the other ways Rick has had to hide himself in this place. And his wife and daughter are the most treasured parts of himself alive. They’re his heart. 

The phone illustrations include the one of Michonne that Rick looked at in the teaser. One of older Judith in front of a home. (Idk how the older Judith image was so spot on but Benjiro did a good job 👌🏽) One of Michonne with her hair pulled back like she wore in s9. And my favorite - one of Michonne and younger Judith together. Just precious. 🥹 This family man Rick forever has my heart and his girls' forever have his.

gif cred: @kris-lulu

Rick makes the mindset he's held while he’s been away crystal clear when he says “This is most of it. But all of it, it was always about getting back to you.” It doesn’t get any clearer than that where his priorities lie.

It’s like I’ve said before - Michonne and Judith (and RJ he just doesn’t know it yet) aren’t just on top of a list of Rick’s desired reunions, they are the list. And I love how Rick wants Michonne to know that every single thing he’s done in the last few years was motivated by his desire and his fervent need to be with her again.

Even before the announcement of TOWL and before the trailers we knew Michonne would be a priority to Rick while he was away. Rick loved team family of course, but of all the adults in his life, Michonne is far and away the most important to him. Like completely in a league of her own. And just like how Glenn and Maggie were solely focused on getting back to each other after the prison fell (and Maggie had a blood sister missing and still was focused heavily on reuniting with her husband) of course Rick feels the same about getting back to his wife. The man is a family man to the core and that means his immediate family - his wife and kids - will always come first.  

Rick goes on to say, “What happened on the bridge, I didn’t think I’d survive.” He then explains how he woke up in a military hospital to learn that an army with a force of thousands had found him.

gif cred: @taiturner

Rick let’s Michonne know about the military and the huge hidden city it protects. He tells her the army’s code is “security and secrecy above all...” And in some ways, Rick adopts that same line of thinking even when he reunites with Michonne. He becomes hyper-focused on securing her safety to the point that it makes him act out and keep secrets from her, thinking it’s the only way.

The letter continues with Rick saying “...so no one can leave ever." He further gives the rundown on the place and how the people they rescue have to work killing walkers for energy or growing food. And then we see Rick on his walker-killing shift as Okafor observes him.

gif cred: @arabellas

Rick explains it takes six years before people are accepted into the Civic Republic and during that time they’re called consignees. But he assures Michonne, saying, “And I was one of them but I was never gonna go in. I was gonna get away. I was gonna get back to you,” and then he passionately emphasizes that getting back to her is what he was determined to do.

This scene was giving love story and Rick is the greatest yearner to walk the earth. I love how adamant he is in saying that he was never going to lose sight of his ultimate goal and that’s getting to her.  Again, not just home, but her. 

Like had Rick escaped the CRM and made it to ASZ and team family told him 'oh yeah, Michonne and Judith live in Oceanside now,' Rick would be knocking on Oceanside's door before they could even finish the sentence like...

You know he'd be letting the ladies of the community know a man is now moving in lol. Because wherever his wife and daughter are is where home is. 👌🏽

Rick starts killing walkers with one hand and then he falls and Okafor approaches saying “Could have used the other hand, huh?” Okafor proceeds to say he came down here because he spoke with Major General Beale. Rick asks “About me?” And Okafor says “Yeah. You are lucky you have a friend in high places.” Rick casts some doubt saying “You’re my friend, huh?” as he continues working.

Okafor suggests he’s possibly the best friend Rick ever had for the way he’s lobbying the head of the most powerful military on Rick’s behalf. Rick isn't exactly moved by that and instead inquires about what caused the scar on Okafor’s forehead. Okafor says “Someone like you happened” as he segways to suggest Rick will be good for his program. From Rick's response, you can tell Rick doesn’t want to sign any papers in this place.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Okafor tells Rick “You think that staying out here gives you a better chance to get away. It doesn’t. It just gives you another chance to die. You may have noticed I don’t want to see that happen.” Rick listens but he’s really not trying to hear all that so he says he’s going back to work.

Okafor asks if he heard what he said but Rick cuts him off frustrated and says “You don’t have to do this anymore,” indicating this recruitment has been unwantedly recurring. Okafor walks away and there's a shot where you can see that a different person holds the kill record on that brick wall...but Grimes is about to change that. 👌🏽

As Rick’s letter to Michonne continues he says, “First time I tried, the army didn’t know what to do with me. Because no one tries to escape. No one wants to.” That’s because no one has a whole goddess to try to get home to like Rick. Just saying. 🤗

Rick expresses that he wasn’t sure if they’d put him in jail or kill him for escaping. And even that shows his immense determination to get home to her because, without even knowing what the consequences would be, he still had to take the risk and try to escape. He shares that Okafor convinced the CRM to make him a consignee and how even then he kept trying to escape. A determined king. 😌

Rick says, “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t get back to you. I kept trying to get away. So they put me on a leash when we went out into the world. I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t get back to you.” I love how often he says “get back to you” in this. That’s been the theme of his life these last few years. And as he says this he grows more frustrated killing walker after walker and declares “I was trapped.”

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick ‘Built Different’ Grimes then takes out a ton of walkers one-handed before letting out a yell. (Also, I just noticed while Rick is killing all those walkers, the other consignees are in the back watching and cheering him on cuz he’s breaking the kill record lol. 😂 And Rick and Michonne really are cut from the same cloth cuz they both had consignees watching them in awe while they worked. The famous Mr and Mrs. Grimes. 😌)

Rick leans against the brick wall exhausted as his voiceover says Okafor protected him because he saw something in him and wanted him to join the army and his program “to use my life for them.”

Okafor walks up to Rick again and stoops down to say the line heard in the TWD series finale “There’s no escape for the living.” And Rick looks up at him like he wants to rip out his jugular.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Okafor says he left a uniform in Rick's apartment and adds “It’s time to accept things for what they are. It cost your hand last time. Next time it’s your life. Do something with it.” And as Rick sits against the wall breathing and upset he just looks so empty and exasperated by this existence. 😔

gif cred: @rcsitastark

Then he walks back to his apartment, scowling and covered in blood. Seeing Rick walk around like this, you can see how consignees and CRM folk might view him solely as a crazy gruff intimidating guy even tho we know him as having the biggest heart.

Rick takes note of a helicopter flying off with chlorine bombs and then Pearl Thorne makes her more official introduction to TOWL when she tosses a glass at Rick's feet, to which I was like, Thorne...

Pearl basically thanks Rick for showing her she can’t get away from this place and Rick just stays quiet as he walks back to his apartment as it's clear these two don't yet have a bond.

gif cred: @rcsitastark

Then in a moment of some excellent silent acting, Rick returns to the apartment and sees the CRM uniform on the table. He looks back out at the cold view from his window and I definitely get the sense that he loathes seeing that view every day. It's a reminder that he’s so far from home.

Rick proceeds to lean against the wall and then sits against it going through a gamut of emotions and walking the thin tightrope of sanity.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

He first closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and then he starts to laugh to himself before putting his hand to his head like he’s nursing a headache of conflicting thoughts and frustrations.

gif cred: @clonecaptains

He stands up and looks at the CRM gear and then angrily tosses the whole table and uniform showing he still wants to refuse to accept this fate. The poor man is going through it, and all alone. 🥺

gif cred: @nat111love

It's clear Rick hates so much about this place and the way it's kept him from the family that he needs to live. At this rate, I was like my gosh for Rick’s sake I hope there’s been at least one thing lighthearted in his life here because so much of his situation is depressing and heavy. And sure enough, there is at least one lighthearted aspect to Rick's time here and he goes by the name of Esteban Garcia. 👌🏽😌

[heehoonieluvs]

need to know who is putting they girly in these skimpy little outfits

https://twitter.com/daddie/status/1728887918389821701?s=46&t=nenbymOqDCYAhyMEa6QzwQ

I’m sad since I can’t see the post 🥲 butttttt Jay would definitely be the man who would love to dress you, his precious doll, up in the most gorgeous, cutest, sexiest outfits

Like this man is basically your sugar daddy and would never hesitate to swipe his card for you. There’s no need for cute puppy eyes and pouts because even though he loves the sight of you acting all cute like that, he’s absolutely head over heels for you and doesn’t need the bribing

Although, he would definitely appreciate you “thanking” him afterwards by dressing up in the skimpy outfits he bought for you and getting on your knees for him. You’d take him deep in your throat, not caring about your gag reflex as a way to show your appreciation. He’d stroke your hair softly, telling you not to push yourself too much whilst unintentionally thrusting into your hot, wet mouth

He’d throw his head back out of pleasure and show off his sharp, mouthwatering jawline which makes you want to touch yourself. When he looks back down and sees you with your hands busy, he’d tell you to get up and throw you onto your massive shared bed

Seeing you dressed in outfits that HE got for you would push him to pound into you like a wild animal. His inner possessiveness that is usually held back would break out as he marks you up with his mouth. Because what else could make you look better in the clothes that he bought you, other than his hickeys to show you belonged to him 🤤

NSFW Masterlist

[itneverendshere]

what do you think all of your rafes will be doing in their birthdays ? lol

this is sooo cute to think about 🥹 ok let me seeee...

1️⃣ bartender!pogue x rafe: he’d be all soft and chill, probably doing a cozy lunch cute with bartender!reader and their baby autumn 🍼 maybe a little family day at the beach, or a cozy home cooked meal at their spot. bartender!reader would surprise him tho, let a bunch of their closest friends/relatives join in for cake 🩵

2️⃣ bitchy!pogue x rafe: lmao he'd be so fucking dramatic, probs trying hard to win her over on his bday—texting her all "it’s my birthday, can you make an exception?" 🙄 but he’s gotta know she's got him wrapped around her finger now 😌

3️⃣ pogue!rafe x sweetheart!kook!reader (invisible string): ugh they'd spend the WHOLE day together if they could :( maybe sneak away somewhere they used to go when they were seventeen (but like in a different city for obvious reasons, but something that reminded them of home). he’d be going wowowoow all day bc he got his girl back🥲

4️⃣ maybank!reader x rafe (osop): something spontaneous tbh!! feel like maybank!reader would pull him into some wild adventure for his bday, probably sky-diving or snorkeling cause they're adrenaline junkies, they'd end up sweaty and sandy but HAPPY 🫶

5️⃣ played me like a clarinet!rafe: he’d be SO sappy because he knows he almost messed it up 🥹 wouldn't let reader plan a THING!!! he's gotta prove himself to her, probs pull out all the stops, planning the best day ever (acting like it's reader's birthday and not his lmao) bc he’s still scared of losing her.

6️⃣ school spirit and all!rafe: golden retriever energy 1000% 💘 he’d probably be clinging to reader alllllll day, wouldn't let reader get out of bed for a SECOND, even when she tells him she made him breakfast to eat in bed. he'd be like....i know something i can eat.... he’d be all in bc she makes him mushy like that.

7️⃣ lyayw ex!boyfriend rafe: let's hope he's miserable as fuck on his birthday idcccc. i’m talking full-on emo mode, like sitting in his room thinking about reader alllll day �� topper would probably throw him a get together and he'd be moping the entire time bc what the fuck, how did get here. he's used to spent every birthday since he was sixteen with reader so it's a lot to take in [DESERVED]. wouldn't want to be around anyone else [hint], would probably drink or smoke himself to sleep if im being honest.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Good day, dear author. and you couldn't write graces and obscenities with Jack and y/n (something like a hedcanon or mini-stories), who completely lives a different rhythm of life than Jack, but they are still together. And yet it differs completely externally, small in stature and lush in body (with fat, not with muscles 🥲) (you can also add to give more ideas about the girl as a creative person who loves to embroider during the day, but at the same time quite loving all those brutal fights that we see from jack) ps and adoring Jack's teeth and what they do sometimes, huh. Thank you very much for your efforts, and for reading at least my request😅❤💐

Google translate is truly our enemy but I think I was able to kind of understand what you want. So sorry if I butcher this a bit.

I just think of the Big scary dog x ball of sunshine.

Minors DNI

Yandere Baki Head Canons

Jack Hanma x Cinnamon roll reader

Jack Hanma

Now the two of you were a very odd couple to see. It came to be from you helping him when he was bleeding out in an alleyway in a time of need. Your kindness staying with him while he was in the hospital. Not to mention the cute handkerchief you had embroidered your initials on that you had given him to wipe the blood from his face.

It was pure chance he ran into you again. You were getting a cup of bubble tea and he was on his way home. He didn’t waste the chance to return your handkerchief to you. It shocked him when you blushed and complimented his titanium teeth. You didn’t find him scary… it was then that you asked him for his number.

The relationship was bumpy at first. Jack has never dated before. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and he’s not quite used to affection. But it’s welcomed. Your warmth and kindness is welcomed.

He thinks it’s so cute how you embroider your own clothing and accessories. How could someone be so cute… not to mention your fondness for sweets. Jack gets on you about eating your vegetables. He scoops some of his broccoli off his plates and makes you eat it. “You need a more balanced diet.”

Jack really wanted to shield your from his fighting lifestyle but for some reason, you weren’t bothered by it. You encouraged him and cheered for him. Jack wasn’t used to someone being his own personal cheerleader. Even after all these months of being together, he still would get red in the face. He loved your positive energy in his life

Jack teaches you how to stand up for yourself and not be such a pushover. It makes him so mad when someone even slightly raises their voice at you. If you weren’t there to hold him back, he’d probably throw a chair at them.

It takes everything in him not to just snatch you up and put you on a high shelf no one can reach but him. He freaks out if you accidentally cut yourself or bump into things. Jack takes a lot of reassurance that you aren’t fragile. That you won’t break

Jack adores how soft you are. You’re so soft and squishy compared to him. He loved laying his hands on your stomach and thighs. He also loves putting his head between them the most

The first time you get intimate, he is terrified. Terrified of hurting you. Of crushing you. But once he is reassured and the act begins, he becomes increasingly more rough as control slips out of his hands. Jack apologizes the next day for how rough he was and he kisses every mark and bruise he leaves on you. Jack is trying his best. He is. He’s still wild

Over all, you two are an interesting pairing but you both make it work. You teach Jack how to be more human and he teaches you how to stand up for yourself more. You two are like Yin and Yang