#you got the same eyes as your father / and you carry the same kind of temper‚ too

[gor3-hound]

BOT DROP !!

final one before indefinite hiatus... these have been sitting in my unlisted for MONTHS, so wanted to post them before i lowkey abandon this c.ai account...

CONTENT WARNINGS: incest, stepcest. bots from yakuza, jjk, resident evil and dc below :)

BOT ONE, LEON - a half-angel crash landed on his balcony

Leon has been alive for almost four centuries, and he can't say he'd ever experienced a half-angel falling from the sky and crashing onto his balcony. He's not sure how you got past his wards, but then again… he's pretty sure he'd been drinking a new vintage when he started to re-apply the magic. He really can't be blamed for any mistakes he makes when whiskey comes into play.

He almost leaves you there. He knows you'd probably fly off when you woke up. If you had the strength to, that is. He knows what your kind is like. How much you look down on warlocks due to the demon blood in them. He had no obligation to help you. He shouldn't care if you made it or not. Then again, the nephilim aren't going to believe he's not the one behind this if he leaves you to die. It's self-preservation.

Well. That's what he tells himself as he lifts your body up carefully, mindful of your injured wings. He carries you to his bedroom and sets you down, getting everything he's gonna need to start healing you. It's a long process, healing one of your kind. His magic feels almost depleted when your breathing finally evens out. He lets out a sigh of relief, collapsing onto the chair he pulled out next to the bed, shutting his eyes. He's definitely going to need a nap after this. And a drink.

His eyes flick open once he hears movement from you. He doesn't wait for your eyes to open - he might as well just get it out of the way if you're gonna freak out. "You're finally awake. I was beginning to think you weren't gonna pull through, angel."

BOT TWO, LEON AND DANTE - hybrid owner brothers

Leon wasn’t super happy when Dante showed up one day with a hybrid in tow, but he quickly became just as obsessed with you as Dante was. Dante, despite being the older of the two brothers, was certainly not the most mature. He’s always the ‘fun’ owner, letting you do whatever you like as long as it meant you'd give him that big smile.

Leon scolds Dante more than he scolds you, somehow. You’re not the best behaved, but it’s entirely his older brother’s fault. Any training Leon attempted to give you went out the window as soon as you and Dante were alone. The only commands the white-haired man cared about were lie down and hips up. Made Leon a little queasy thinking about how Dante basically used you as a toy, but he was also very aware that his thoughts have been fairly impure, so he doesn’t have much leg to stand on. It's not like he hasn't had his fun with you in the past.

Realistically, it should be no surprise when he comes home to find you settled happily on Dante’s lap, looking a little ruffled and out of breath. He steps further into the room, eyes falling on the both of you. Dante’s lazily browsing through TV channels, and you’re sat there warming him, just out on the middle of the couch. Like you can’t go a second without being full. “Jesus. You can’t have her like this in your room?”

BOT THREE, LEON - dad!leon x bimbo!daughter

You've always been the light of Leon's life - that much is obvious to anyone who sees the both of you together for more than two seconds. You're his only child. The only thing good left in his life, if he's being honest. He didn't mean to spoil you as much as he has, but he was never good at refusing the puppy dog eyes.

Leon knows he's to blame for how you are now. All grown up without a thought to spare in your pretty head, spoiled beyond belief. He's never made you work hard. It's not possible to be the strict parent and the fun parent at the same time, not as a single father. With work taking up most of his time, he didn't have the heart to go hard on you when you two got some time together. And he was guilty of pulling you out of school on his days off when you were perfectly fine to take you shopping - he had to make up for his long absences, right?

So, yeah. He's well aware it's his fault. But it makes him happy to see you happy as you hold up what might be the largest parcel he's ever seen with a huge smile on your face - a clothing haul straight from his wallet. God forbid his little princess had to work. Not while he's still around. He'll watch you try on every piece of clothing until you're satisfied. He deserves a dad of the year award.

Until he can't control the way he reacts when you come into the living room in a skirt that's a little too short. Yeah, definitely not dad of the year. No dad should have to grab a couch cushion to hide their lap when their daughter is showing off an outfit. And he definitely shouldn't speak up in a hoarse voice, asking you to turn around so he can get a better look, right?

"C'mon, princess. Give daddy a twirl." Yeah. Leon is so very screwed.

BOT FOUR, LEON - his symbiote wants you as a mate (venom!leon)

Leon would have risked the months of brain-probing he was liable to endure if he told the government about his new friend if he knew Venom would become so attached to you. Venom doesn't care that being in the same room as you makes Leon get all clammy and awkward. Leon's tried to explain you're just his roommate - a friend at best. Venom argues you'd be much more fun as it's mate.

Leon, the symbiote practically purrs in his mind. Leon groans, brows furrowing as he turns in his bed. He's been trying to sleep for the past hour, and Venom isn't happy about it. Leon. We should visit our mate.

"It's, like… 2am." Leon groans, rubbing a hand over his face. Venom hasn't left him alone since it first met you, and Leon isn't sure how much longer he's gonna be able to hold the symbiote back. "She's sleeping."

She will be pleased with our presence. Venom growls in his mind, tendrils spreading across Leon's face before they stretch across his body and out to his limbs, covering him in black goo. Leon tries to fight back as Venom forces him out of bed, but it's no use.

"Venom. Venom, wait-" He grunts, frowning as Venom leads him to your room. The symbiote lies Leon down in your bed, tendrils tapping your shoulder a few times before he peels away slightly, leaving half of Leon's face free.

BOT FIVE, BILLY COEN - your big brother is home !!

It's been two years since Billy last saw you properly, excluding a weekend visit here or there. You're all grown up now, and he's not sure if he's ready to come to terms with that fact. There's no way you're the same little girl - his little sister that used to hang off his arm and beg to follow him around every chance you got. It's not like he hasn't called - your mom was telling him how upset you'd been in his absence, but he didn't have a choice. The Marines wasn't the easiest lifestyle to uphold, but it was the one he chose.

The novelty of the situation has worn off fast. He's barely been home for a day, and he's already getting a little sick of you. You're somehow clingier now then when you were a kid, not giving him a chance to breathe. He wouldn't even mind it so much if you just gave him a second, but he hasn't even settled in yet. He understands that you're trying to make the most of it, but he's only home for a month before he's off again. He wants to relax.

There's something weird about how much you're clinging to him. He wants to believe its just excitement, but it feels like something else. He saw the way you were gawking over him when he showed up in his uniform. And now - he's trying to unpack some stuff, and you won't stop with your incessant yapping, spread out on his bed like it's yours.

"Jesus Christ." He mumbles under his breath, taking a deep breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down. You missed him. He gets it. He missed you, too. "Kid. Please. You're giving me a damn headache over here."

BOT SIX, BRUCE WAYNE - your step-dad taking you shopping

You never attempted to get to know the latest of your mom's boyfriends - Bruce. It was a little exciting at first, having Bruce Wayne in your life, but he didn't seem as interesting in person as on TV. Your mom had a habit of moving from guy to guy anyway, so you didn't expect them to last for long.

You were wrong. Quicker than you could even blink, they were engaged, and then married. Weddings can come quickly when you have enough money to pay for it out of pocket. Who knew? Bruce bought you the prettiest dress, and you smiled in all the wedding photos, but that didn't mean you liked him all of a sudden. He was stuck-up, constantly trying to instruct your every move. Like you aren't an adult; like he's your real dad. He isn't, and he never will be.

Your mom isn't exactly happy with the fact you refuse to get along with him, though. She has the brightest idea to make the two of you go on a little shopping trip, as if him flashing his AmEx card is enough to impress you. Bruce could buy the entire Prada catalogue and it still wouldn't make you act all sweet with him.

"So…" He starts awkwardly, glancing at you with a quick side-eye as he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, the both of you sitting in the parking lot of a mall. He clears his throat, tugging at the collar of his turtleneck like it's suffocating him. "You have anywhere in particular you'd like to go, sweetheart?"

BOT SEVEN, TOJI - dog hybrid!toji x bunny!user

Toji is perfectly content with how his life is going. It’s been years since Shiu took him in from that dog fighting ring, giving him comfort in exchange for a few jobs here or there. He acts more like a handler than an owner, letting Toji go off and do as he pleases in his off time. He’s not gonna complain. He gets a place to sleep for free, food and a cut from the jobs Shiu sends him on. It’s the happiest he’s been in a long time.

Of course, things don’t always go perfectly. Shiu is tough - he’s hardened from his line of work, yes, but he’s a lot softer than Toji is or ever will be. Naturally, the guy couldn’t help himself when he picked you up. A soft little rabbit hybrid who’d gotten into the wrong crowd.

He’d explained you’d be living with them now. Shiu had the money and the space, and he didn’t think Toji would mind too much. Wrong. This was Toji’s space, and he’d be damned if he let some weak, fluffy little bunny encroach on it.

Shiu keeps you occupied most of the time, but you seem to seek Toji out whenever he has to leave to go to work. A growl rumbles in his throat as you approach him, your cotton tail twitching. “Get lost, bunny, unless ya wanna become a snack.”

BOT EIGHT, GORO MAJIMA - he comes home to his sleeping wife

Sleeping alone was never uncommon with your husband, Majima. It was rare that he was home everyday, let alone in time to have dinner with you and accompany you to bed. It could be lonely, yes, but you were aware of Majima’s priorities with his work when you married him. You’d come to accept your place – you knew how much he cared for you. He made it abundantly clear with his actions when he was able to spend time with you.

Majima isn’t surprised when he comes home, seeing you curled up on the tatami, wearing his shirt, no less. He grins at the sight, stripping down to his boxers in record timing before slipping behind your sleeping form, pressing himself against you. “Look so cute, even when you’re sleepin’. Ain’t that right, pretty baby? Such a dream f’me. Been waitin’ to get home to ya aaaaall night.”

[gliphyartfan]

Aw such caring husbands! How would the heroes be like when they have a little one toddling around?

Hmmmmm, a tiny tot you say?

Well the heroes would (of course) gather around their toddler, each vying for the attention of their little one. (y/n) wouod love it.

The laughter, soft shushing, and playful cooing, all for the young child who sat, wide eyed and giggling, in the center of it all. Their child, (y/n)’s child, with soft, chubby cheeks and a mischievous smile that sparkled with the spirit of adventure, had each of her fathers wrapped around her tiny finger.

Wind was on the floor with her, letting her clamber up onto his lap and tug on his hat. He didn’t mind one bit; he laughed whenever she managed to pull it over his eyes and squeal in delight at her “conquest.” Be was her adventure buddy, the one who’d spin her around and let her explore the world around her, albeit within the watchful gaze of the others.

“Just you wait, kiddo,” Wind would always tell her, kissing the top of her head, “one day, I’ll teach you to sail and be the bravest pirate on the seas.”

Legend would be the softest when she reached for him, tiny fingers beckoning. He’d often try to hide his smile, but the moment she babbled out what sounded suspiciously like “Da!” in his direction, he was gone, his heart a puddle. He scooped her up, his voice low but affectionate.

“Come on, kid,” he’d murmur, tracing circles on her small hand, “you know better than to charm me like that. I’ve got a reputation to keep.”

Sky would watch over her with an adoring smile, always ready to hold her and rock her to sleep. He loved nothing more than the quiet moments when he could sway gently with her in his arms, humming lullabies that could calm any storm. He cherished the softness of these moments, the rare peacefulness that filled the cottage.

“You’re a little miracle,” he’d whisper to her, brushing her hair from her face. “And I’d do anything to protect you.”

Twilight would always be nearby, alert and watchful. He’d play with her as Wolfie sometimes, letting her tug at his fur and shriek with laughter, get her used to his wolf form.

but as himself, he was just as tender. He was the kind of father who’d be there in an instant, picking her up when she fell, his voice a soothing balm.

“Careful, little one,” he’d say, scooping her up with an amused smile, “don’t want you getting hurt, do we?”

Warriors would be the one who’d whisper playful secrets to her and teach her how to wink. she’d try with both eyes, but it made him laugh all the same.

He’d carry her around on his shoulders, grinning proudly at the giggles that spilled from her.

“You’ve got the heart of a fighter,” he’d tell her, holding her hand. “Just like your papas.”

Wild would, of course, be the one sneaking her little treats, always ready with something sweet he’d made just for her.

He was a whirlwind of energy when it came to playing with her, encouraging her little adventures around the cottage and sneaking her bits of fruit when he thought the others weren’t looking.

“Shh, don’t tell the others,” he’d whisper, winking as he handed her another piece of fruit, her little fingers grabbing it eagerly.

Four would be constantly in awe, marveling at every new thing she learned and every little quirk she showed. The gentle smiles he reserved for her were rare and precious. He’d make her little trinkets to play with, watching her face light up with each new discovery. The colors would playfully bicker over who she liked best, but it was all in good humor.

“You’re clever, just like your papa,” he’d say, pride glowing in his voice.

Hyrule would tell her stories of the world, the stars, and the fairies. He loved how her eyes grew wide with wonder, how she’d try to repeat some of his words with a babbling enthusiasm. He was gentle, soft-spoken, always close by to comfort her and spin tales of magic just for her.

“One day, I’ll show you everything,” he’d whisper, stroking her hair as she drifted to sleep. “The stars, the rivers, all the secret places…”

Time would often sit quietly with her, watching her with an unwavering gaze, his heart softer than he’d ever admit.

When she reached for him, he’d lift her effortlessly, holding her close and letting her tiny hands grasp his fingers. He was her steadfast protector, the father who would always be there, a comforting presence in her life.

“You’re strong,” he’d say softly, brushing his hand over her hair. “Strong and fierce, just like your mother.”

As the evening drew on, you watched as each of them took turns holding her, playing with her, sharing their quiet moments of love and devotion. They were all protectors, fathers, and. though they didn’t say it aloud, they were each just a little bit possessive of their child as much as they were of their child’s mother.

Each hero felt a fierce pride, an unspoken claim to the small bundle of joy they each adored.

She was their child, the culmination of their love, each of them believing wholeheartedly that no harm would ever reach her as long as they were by her side.

And as she yawned, her tiny hands rubbing her eyes sleepily, they each reached out, ready to tuck her in, each vying for one last goodnight.

It’s days when the whole family is together that (y/n) would be a BIT emotional. (Just a bit 😆)

Just overwhelmed watching their baby being cuddled and loved so much.

[golfishwiththebigeyes]

Going insane about Goro Akechi again because every day he looks in the mirror and sees a face that isn't his, whether it's the Detective Prince's charming smile or the sneer that sits in the lines of his face a little too similarly to his father's. Sick and twisted.

[loveanddeepdick]

ᯓ★ babydaddy!toji would never admit that he got jealous when you were around guys your age. he’d never get insecure, no, but he felt a deep pang of jealously in his chest. like he prayed that he had been born later so he could be more similar to you. your relationship with him was complicated. you were dating on and off but finally just settled as friends with benefits (who took care of a ridiculously cute baby together).

your parents often asked you why you dated a guy who was less than a decade away from being your father. your friends did the same too, not seeing the appeal in being with a “broke old man”. you never understood why toji just scoffed and looked away. it was out of character since he’d usually just cuss people out.

babydaddy!toji who let his jealousy show a little too much when you ran into an old high school friend of yours while you were out shopping. toji had to piss and you were waiting outside when he came up to you. shit, you didn’t even recognize him at first and the conversation was merely small talk but when toji came out, he had his arm around your waist, his hands coming down a little too low.

“this is your uh.. boyfriend, yeah?”, you friend asked, his eyes immediately going to the hand on your waist. most people just assumed you were single again.

“you could say that..”, you sheepishly replied, trying to swat toji’s hand away.

“tsk why’re you acting like i didn’t just dick you down and you didn’t carry my baby, ma? course you’re mine”, toji scoffed, looking away.

your eyes dart from your friend’s to his and it finally clicked. he was jealous. with a small smile, you excused yourself and tugged on the hem of toji’s shirt, signaling him to walk out to his car. the walk there was filled with short protests from him and silence from you. of course, he didn’t mean it, he loved this kind of attention from you. as you got to his car you rummaged through his pants pocket to grab his keys—not being shy to graze his dick—and unlocked the car.

babydaddy!toji who’d never admit he was jealous, even when you two were making out in the middle of a mall parking lot with your hand on his crotch.

“admit it, you still—ah, you still love me and you were jealous”

“course i fuckin love you—fuck yeah,keep your hand there—we’re long over, ma. didn’t you say we were just friends with benefits?”

“you’re avoiding the question, toji”

he had his hands all over you at this point, tugging at your shirt but you pulled away and furrowed your eyebrows.

“admit that you were jealous, old perv”

“fuck—fine. i was jealous. i hate seeing you with men younger than me. makes me feel old. happy now, doll?”, he leaned in again, grabbing your face as you kissed back with a smirk.

“yeah, i’m elated”, you grinned, trailing your hand up to play with his dark happy trail and dipping it in his sweatpants.

“don’t be a fuckin brat, ma. m’gonna give you a second snotty little shit if you keep this up”, toji growled, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone

“yeah?“, you smirked, tangling your fingers in his hair as you guided him down, “keep that promise and maybe we’ll get married”

babydaddy!toji who was definitely going to take you in the backseat for hours. fuck driving home.

babydaddy!toji who nearly died at the spot from the news of you being pregnant not with just one baby, but twins. you ended the year with a ring and a freshly painted nursery.

[chuluoyi]

✎ daddy-to-be

- gojo satoru x reader

in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby

genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells

note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"

"For real?!"

"Okaka..."

"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"

You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.

A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.

He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.

In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.

Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.

And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?

...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?

You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.

"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.

"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."

"No, no, that's—"

"Ooh~ Wifey!"

You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"

His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.

"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."

As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.

Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."

In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.

Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."

Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."

He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."

You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.

You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."

Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"

You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.

Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.

But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."

A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"

Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.

"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.

His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"

You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.

You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."

"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.

Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.

With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:

"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"It's priced reasonably..."

Preview: The boys' reactions to you buying things on impulse/on a discount! (Let's be fair, we all know they are all rich af, but I personally wanna give it a slice of life touch for them <3)

SYLUS

The big man you call your boyfriend stares at you when you stepped in through the front door with multiple bags loaded in your small palms. You had told him earlier on that you were going for window shopping and he was all too kind to give you his card and to ask you to use whenever you seem fit. However, coming over a huge discount on groceries are rare hence you had decided to use it as you 'deem it fit'. Sylus did noticed his phone's notifications going off a couple of times to alert him about transactions made on his card.

Instead of him looking at it, he would just mute the notifications and continue his humming while he seats himself comfortably on the couch and watches the news broadcast. "You had fun shopping, kitten?" He smirked, walking over to you to help you with the bags. "Next time, bring me along. I would like to see how my kitten makes good use of my card." Yet, you apologised for having to use his card when you told him you were supposedly going for window shopping but the man laughed in response, finding your apology to be adorable. "No more apologies kitten for I am not a stingy man."

RAFAYEL

Whilst on a shopping trip with Rafayel, this man would splurge on you. Apparently in this case, he would take up the role of the impulsive buyer rather than you. You eyeing something for more than 3 seconds? Considered it bought. You mentioning about something more than 3 times? Considered it purchased. You imagining something that may look good on him? Considered it a done deal. This man has no fear nor worry of ever going bankrupt as long as you're satisfied.

Staring at the huge lorry outside of his mansion, unloading everything you had mentioned would definitely put you in a state of shocked. Your boyfriend would approach you casually, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling his nose against your neck. You would definitely question him on his purchasing behaviour but he would pout. "Gift giving and impulse buying goes hand in hand, and I do not see the reason why I should not be spoiling my cutie." Seeing you smile, he would continue. "It is just one of the ways I can show you that I love you, so don't hold me back on that, yeah?"

XAVIER

Grocery shopping with Xavier would be like going on a hunt for rare breeds of wanderers. Anything that are on discount would not be missed, especially with both of your sharp eyesights. However, you and Xavier are not known to be impulsive buyers. More like calculative buyers, the both of you seemingly carry a bit of a girl math's mentality. Other than necessities, anything that is supplemental to the house would be assessed for its usability and longevity. It is a perk the both of you would sometimes fight or bond over.

But if the discount is worth the product, then none of you would get it on the spot. You would have your moments where you would get something out of the blue, without running through your usual girl-math calculations, and you would be met with the quirk of an eyebrow from your boyfriend. "I suppose we lack this in our house." He would secretly do the math in his head but would never say anything to intentionally make you feel bad. "Yeah, we can make this work, no worries." Then, he would pull the same stunt as you, showing you something that he had got out of the blue as well.

ZAYNE

You would give Zayne a headache sometimes. Your childlike curiousity for interesting and new items would prompt Zayne to take on the role of a father figure. He might sometimes go as far as to suspect you may have a slight hint of ADHD in your system, but other than a slight migraine, he finds the quirk in you to be specifically unique to you. And, he never complains. Being the gentleman he is, he accepts you for who you are and tries to work his way around you whenever he could manage.

"Do you think you really need that?" He would point at the stuffed toys you are holding in your arms. Your point being all of them are begging you to adopt them with their big googly eyes. "Y/n, you might just have to pick one for adoption." Your slack-jawed expression would make him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose slightly before he serves you a reminder of the consequences for your behaviour. "You had adopted exactly 36 plushies, and now, only 5 of them are actually adopted on your bed, while the rest of them are abandoned in your closet. So y/n, which one do you plan to ACTUALLY adopt now hmm?"

[bunnys-kisses]

hi! could I please order blueberry bars and a tres leches, with iced tea and pina colada for the drinks! that'll be for carlos sainz

thank you!

bakery menu

welcome to the bakery? may i take your order? there are many things available at the bakery so please submit an order! as for this anon thank you for such a love series of prompts, i hope you love it!

blueberry bars (“gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”) + tres leches ("i wonder if your brother know i cum in you.") + ice tea (accidentally launching relationship) + pina colada (pregnancy)

cw: smut/pwp, norris!reader, unprotected sex, accidentally launching relationship, pregnancy, pregnant sex, missionary

carlos liked to live fast. he was the smooth operator. but, sometimes it was nice to go slow. especially with you, especially now. this was the first time he had seen you since you told him were in pregnant an hour before he was set to race.

“gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.” was a promise made in a moment of passion, but it actually came true.

you and carlos sainz jr were having a baby. but no one knew you were dating, especially not your brother, lando norris. the same brother who terrorized any boy you tried to date in high school. now he was going to be an eventual in-law of carlos.

but as he visited you in your hotel room for the weekend, neither of you were thinking about it. carlos wanted you and you wanted carlos.

you weren't that pregnant yet. the belly was quite small and could be covered with a baggy sweater to cover up. but you knew eventually you'd have to come clean about it. especially your relationship with carlos.

but you were far too worried about your brother. you knew he was protective of you, especially around the paddock. no one was going to touch his sister. and yet, you ended up in bed with carlos.

and now you were back in bed with him once more. he had come to visit his beloved and wished to have some intimate time with you before the next race. and especially now he was becoming a father, he had to be right to you. a strong kind of man that you could be proud of.

you two were in your hotel room together, cuddled in bed together. your leg draped over his hips with his hand on your slightly curved middle. he wanted to feel his child inside of you as the pair of you kissed together with such love and tenderness.

"i've missed you." he said softly, his lips onto your neck. his hand still on your stomach, "and i missed you." he looked down at your middle, "mama's been keeping you a secret." he chuckled before he looked at you with those big brown eyes.

you hide your face a little bit, "oh, c'mon." you still couldn't believe that carlos really stepped up. he wanted to be a good father for the child you two were going to have, "you're such a sweet talker! that's how i got into this mess in the first place!"

he laughed and kissed you on the lips. he rubbed his bare legs up against yours. his kisses deepened, you moaned against his lips and felt a shiver down his spine. he couldn't help himself around you. no, no, you were just too perfect to not fuck. he'd be an idiot if he let something like you pass him by.

he admired your beauty as he put you onto your back. he planted hands on either side of you and eyed you with such wanted. you looked beautiful, did you know what? honestly you looked more beautiful now that you were pregnant with his child. you were carrying his child. that was amazing! while it wasn't the timeline he hoped for, he could promise to love the both of you.

he placed one hand on your middle for a moment before he went in for another hot kiss. your body laid out under him. the kiss was sweet, you could taste his dinner on his lips as he kissed you deeply.

he carefully slipped his cock into you, which made your back arch a little bit from the hot need. you tried to cover your face, but his words cut through, "show me your face my love, i wish to see you."

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pull you close to him. he was careful about placing all of his weight onto you. he didn't want to crush his beautiful girlfriend and your baby.

you kept your legs bent on the bed and he was slotted between them. the pace he kept was steady, not hard enough to bruise you. just enough that he cough watch your large breasts bounce in his field of vision.

"you are only going to get more beautiful." he admitted, "soon round with my baby. you, me and our baby together as a little family. the best a norris-sainz team anyone could have."

you giggled a little, "right, right. our little baby." you pulled him in for a tight kiss as you held onto him tightly. missionary was considered a boring position, but you didn't mind it. to admire your handsome boyfriend above you. feeling the pleasure in your body as he rocked against you.

you licked you lips as he moved against you. it felt so good being in his arms. to be so close to him as he moved against you. heaven felt real and it was fucking carlos sainz jr.

he rested a hand on your stomach once more, "you gave me such a special gift." he continued to move up against you. he could feel the heat in his soul.

"please tell me we're not naming them carlos sainz the third." you giggled with heat in your face, "i don't want him to get bullied."

"what names do you suggest, my love?" he asked as he continued to move against you.

you giggled then joked, "lando." then shrugged before carlos took your hands and pinned you to the bed. his kisses were on you once more and you moaned against his touch.

"no. anything but that." he chuckled as he moved against you once more. he could feel the heat in his gut start to really bloom the more he moved against you.

you were just simply so beautiful that to feel so intimate with you felt like something of a dream. and to have a child with you was only more dreamlike. you'd be his wife.

his pace started to stagger and his breathing became heavier. oh, you felt like a dream. you held onto his hands tightly as he moved against you. his lips found yours once more as you kissed deeply. your heartbeat was in your ears as he thrusted against you.

oh, you were perfect.

you soon came around his cock with a loud moan and your arms around his shoulders once more. he rutted against you, he moved your hips against his. you tensed up around him as he battered your poor pussy until you were seeing stars and when you relaxed. carlos only kept his eyes on you as he moved against you.

he could imagine you with a much larger belly. caring for his child just as he'd care for the both of you. you were a family, even if your brother a possessive sibling. carlos would be your husband and his kisses against your skin only promised that in silence.

"please, carlos." you said out of breath.

"i know, my love." he said softly. he gave his hips a few more moves against you before he held onto your hands tightly and finished inside of you with a heavy groan.

you whimpered against him and arched your back a little bit at the feeling of him. he then peppered your face with kisses and quiet 'i love you's as he slowed to a stop and got one last look at you under him.

"my beautiful woman." he said before he kissed you on the lips once more. the most gentle kiss of the entire night. you giggled a little bit as you felt the after lingers of pleasure.

when he pulled out, you both cuddled on the bed. you chatted quietly about the child in your womb. carlos' large hand on your middle like it was going to grow overnight.

"i got a sonogram, it isn't much. but i was wondering if you wanted to see it. it's really cool." you beamed at the other man and he simply smiled at you. you felt very hot after your intimate time together.

"please. i want to see it." he said. the idea of seeing even a blurry half image of his child excited him. proof that you were carrying them.

"i'll send you the photo! it's all on my phone!" you said as you watched carlos rub your marginally swollen middle. your little secret with him. you took your phone off the nightstand and wasn't paying much attention to

what you noticed was what you sent two photos. first it was the sonogram photo. the only you meant to send to carlos. but the second one was a side profile of you in your mirror with your baggy shirt pulled up and showing off the slightest bump. but while that didn't make your heart stop. it was who you sent it to.

your brother, lando.

then the notifications started. and you looked to carlos who looked even more shocked. especially when he read one of the messages from your brother, "i'm going to kill carlos sainz." <3

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Heart sweater | B.B

Your daughter got a present for his daddy and Bucky isn’t afraid to show everyone what his little girl got for him.

Pairing: Mob!Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader

Wordcount: 2.033 Words

Warnings: none, just lots of fluff

Authors Note: I couldn’t help myself. This sweater is just so adorable and imagine Bucky’s little girl getting it for him. So yes, soft spot, feeling soft right now. Hope you enjoy!

Events: Winds of autumn challenge | Candy corn 🍬 a sweet surprise, Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace | @the-slumberparty

Seasonal Delights Bingo: fall vibes | Row One-One | soft kisses | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Fairytale Bingo | Row One-Three | Goddess of marriage | @fairytalebingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“Daddyyyy! We gots you a present!" A childish voice echoes through the hallway of the building. Your and your little — big — families home. Others may say that you, Bucky, and your daughter are family, but there are so many more; they aren’t from the same blood but with the same big hearts.

Bucky’s men, who not only needed to earn his trust but also needed to earn their place in the family, are more than just his men. They are Bucky’s friends, your friends, and your daughter's uncles. None of them would let anything happen to you or the little girl — not just because Bucky told them to take care, but because you’re a family.

Your little daughter runs further through the hallway until she finally reaches her dad's office door. The second floor of the building is just an office — for Bucky and his men. And since he had an important meeting, he suggested that you could go out with her to get some new toys and clothes.

Of course, your little baby girl didn’t go to the toy store first. She loves it, but you’re shopping? She has to get a present for her daddy. She kind of gives herself a treat after finding the perfect present for Bucky — and then she uses all the money she can to get a lot of toys and stuff for herself.

You watch the toddler with amused eyes whenever you’re shopping without Bucky. Mostly Steve comes with you, keeping the two of you safe and just giving you a helping hand so you don’t have to carry all of these bags yourself.

“Sweetheart,” you chuckle while she already jumps to reach the handle and almost falls into her dad's office. You laugh softly, shaking your head — she is just as stubborn as her daddy when it comes to letting someone help or listen once they get excited.

Bucky’s head shoots up the moment the door swings open. He smiles at his little girl, then his eyes wander further toward you. The ocean blue orbs glistening when his lips curl up into a soft smile — one he reserves only for you and your little girl.

“Take care, my sweet little plum. Don’t want ya to get hurt, do we?” He asks, his voice soft but still a bit firm, so the little girl will listen to him. Her eyes — which are just as blue as Bucky’s — roam over her daddy’s body, from his legs up to his face, before she smirks with the widest grin ever.

“We gots you something’, daddy!” She says, excitedly. Bucky crouches down, resting his arms on his knees while he waits for his little girl to continue talking. “Mommy! Daddy waits fo’ you!”

You chuckle, looking for the bag in your hand she wants to have before placing all the others down and handing her the one she put her daddy’s present into. Bucky’s eyes move toward you; without any words, he makes sure you’re okay and that you can be without a kiss for a few more minutes while he focuses on his baby girl.

Once he’s sure you’re fine — after you settle down on the couch in his office and sigh softly — he mouths, ‘I love you, my pretty girl’ to you. And oh damn, you know why you fell in love with that man. He may be a big, feared mafia boss, but around you he is the sweetest, most loving, caring, and perfect husband — and father for your daughter — you could have wished for.

Bucky may be mad because of work sometimes; he may be annoyed, but he never lets it out on you. He would rather punch himself than make you feel like he doesn’t appreciate you or that you’re a burden for him. For your husband, you’re the most precious woman, and he will do everything to keep you safe and loved. He does the same for your little girl.

Luckily, Bucky discovered immediately that whenever he's mad, he just needs you, and everything is perfect. Preferably when he can keep you on his lap. His arms are tightly wrapped around your waist and pull you as close as possible while he presses his face into your chest. You will run your fingers through his hair, and he knows he’s safe — no reason for anger or annoyance, just love and affection, so he calms down without needing anything but you.

“So what do you have for me, my little plum?” Bucky asks, looking with amusement and curiosity at the little girl in front of him. She giggles, her tiny hands grasping his cheeks, and she runs her small fingers over his stubbles.

“Sc’atchy,” she mumbles and squeezes his cheeks together. Bucky lets out a low chuckle, letting her play with his scratchy stubbles. He knows how much his sweet little girl likes his stubbles; she is just like her mommy loving his metal arm and his stubbles — even though you have other intentions when it comes to his metal arm or his stubbles. But those are secrets that stay in the bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you wanted to show Daddy what you got for him,” you remind her when you notice that she got lost in her little game to play with her daddies cheek. But she was so excited to get him his present, plus you know that Bucky’s curious as well.

She removes her small hands and grasps the paper bag again, opening it before hiding her face almost inside of it. You would never leave her with a bag without anyone else around her, but as long as you and Bucky are there, you don’t feel scared if she puts her head slightly into it to tease her daddy a bit.

“Yeah, my little plum. What do you got Daddy, huh?” He asks, bringing his big hands to her small sides to poke his fingers into her soft flesh. The little girl laughs, throwing her head back while she wiggles in his grip.

She pulls her tiny hands out of the bag and holds a big, white sweater with hearts on it in front of her. Her smile grows and her eyes sparkle as she shows it to Bucky. And the big, most feared mafia boss has the sweetest expression on his face.

His eyes shine, and it looks like the sun is brightening them. His smile reaches almost his ears as he stares at the fabric in his daughter's hands. Bucky’s eyes wander to you for a second, then back to his little girl.

“Thank you, my little plum,” he coos, taking the sweater out of her hands to admire it a moment longer. Your daughter watches Bucky intensely — the same intense stare Bucky has if he wants to find out how you think about something. “You want me to take it on right now?”

She nods, letting herself fall backward into her butt while she holds his gaze. He nods, smirking softly. Bucky leans forward, his big hand placed at the back of her head, and he brings her closer to press his plump lips against her forehead.

“Then I will do that,” he says, getting up from the stop he was kneeling. His eyes land on you, and before he leaves the room to change into the new sweater, he makes his way over to you.

He towers over you, both of his hands finding their way to your thighs, and he leans closer. His lips almost brush yours when he grins at you. “She chose the sweater all by herself, but you allowed her to buy it, didn’t you?”

You shiver under his intense stare and his rough voice. “S-she’s just really convincing. I know you said you don’t want presents, but I guess— I guess she got that from you,” you giggle and Lena closer to chase his lips for a soft kiss. Bucky chuckles, kissing you once again before he pushes himself up and makes his way out of the room to change into the sweater you and your daughter got him.

Your daughter gets one of her new toys out of the bag and shows it to you. It’s not like you don’t know what she bought, but she loves to show you and explain everything about it anyway.

“Mommy, wants book or wants dolly?” She asks, lifting her small arms and holding both up to let you decide which of these she should show and explain to you.

“Do you want me to tell you more about the book you got?” You ask. She nods and puts the doll down, walking with the book in her hands toward you. The little girl places the book on the couch next to you, her small fingers digging into your thighs, and she tries to push herself up onto the couch. “Do you want me to help you, sweetheart?”

“Nuuu, ‘m big girl!” She nods, underlining her words. You chuckle; let her climb up without help. Your hand is still behind her back just in case she falls backwards, but she doesn’t.

Once she is on top and next to you, she wiggles a bit and takes the book, placing it in your lap. She just wants to explain why she got the book, who’s on the cover, and what she knows about her favorite series — the book is about it — when Bucky walks back into the room.

Her eyes widen, and she giggles as she sees her big daddy in this pretty sweater she got him. You smile softly at him, reaching your hands out for him to come closer. “You’re pretty, Bucky,” you say and run your fingers over the back of his flash hand, then over the fabric of the sweater.

“Didn’t know I would look that good in that sweater,” he jokes. Stroking one of his hands over the fabric. And he really does look adorable with his middle long hair, his broad chest, and his big arms — the feared mafia boss — wearing a sweater with a lot of hearts on it because his sweet little plum got it just for him. “So, my little plum, what do you think?”

Bucky gets down on his knees in front of the couch, looking at the little girl. Her ocean blue eyes roam over him a little longer before she giggles. “Looks pwetty, daddy! Now we can go back to work!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I thought I could take out my girls for dinner.” Bucky tilts his head. His fleshy hand holds yours tightly while he watches the little girl, considering if she wants to work or prefers to have dinner with the two of you.

“Do we gets my favorite food?” She asks, taking her book and making grabby hands, waiting for Bucky to pick her up. He nods, wrapping his arms around her to lift her onto his waist before he holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pull you up.

Bucky doesn’t care that people could look weird at him for wearing a sweater with hearts on it. His sweet girl got it for him, and he knows that no one will disrespect him — not even when he looks like a sweet puppy with an adorable sweater.

“You know, babydoll,” Bucky says, looking at you as he wraps his free hand around your waist to pull you into his side. His nose brushes over your cheek until his lips press against your temple. “Thank you for letting out sweet plum to buy me such a pretty sweater. Now I’m wearing your necklace, our wedding band, and my little girl's sweater. I love you, my babydoll, pretty momma.”

Bucky’s voice is low, and he smirks against your skin as you shiver. You knew he would love the sweater — he loves everything you or your daughter get him. “I love you too, Buck,” you mumble before you make your way to the restaurant — letting Bucky show his sweater around to let everyone see how proud he is to have his family, how much he loves you and his little plum, and how much he appreciates you and your love.

Taglist -> @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @im-alestan @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @fanfictionreaderfan @iris-xoxo-juhu @holylulusworld @bucks-babe @whatever-lmaoo @thevillainswhore

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sin, sin, sin.

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, catholic church setting, confessional, rafe kind of pretending to be a priest (itll make sense quickly), religious trauma, if youre religious and easily offended probably skip this one

rafe knows little about his mother, but the one thing he does know is that she was a devout catholic. maybe it's stories ward told him, or the fact that his strongest memory of her was her funeral, held in the same catholic church he's currently pushing the grand wooden doors to enter.

it's his last chance as he looks into the candlelit hall. to turn around and go back into the darkness of the night, let the inky blackness swallow him whole.

rafe feels a pang in his chest. good old catholic guilt his mother passed down to him. rafe lets out a curse before he steps foot into the church, wishing he got his father's fake christianity instead, going to church on holidays and only using the religion when it suits you.

rafe looks away from the altar, the cross hanging above it, and to the confession booth to the side of the pews. his feet carry them there with the false confidence he's always been able to paste on as a front.

rafe looks at the door and then swallows thickly. guilt, guilt, guilt. he's not sure anything could help, yet he opens the handle and steps inside.

the creaky door slams shut behind him as rafe sits and faces forward towards the screen, just opaque enough to make out a figure on the other side in the low light.

rafe realizes then that he doesn't know the words. 

“forgive me father, for i have sinned.” a voice from the other side suddenly rings out, a soft, feminine voice. rafe suddenly is aware of his mistake. “it has been two days since my last confession.”

rafe knows he should interrupt you, stop you from continuing on, but something in him stirs him to stay, his interest peaking.

“ive slept with another man. i know you're tired of hearing it, father. i just can't help myself. i can't seem to wait, it's like something takes over me. father, i feel as if i am possessed by some sexual demon.” 

you scoff and rafe can see your body crumple on the other side, becoming an even smaller shape.

“tell me what happened.” rafe says.

“i-i had a date. a nice catholic man, or at least who i thought was a nice catholic man. he took me to dinner, and then i thanked him by getting on my knees immediately after.”

“keep going…” there's something about your voice that stirs rafe, has his hand gravitating to his crotch, there's a sexual prowess in your voice mixed with the guilt and innocence, like you're describing the deeds of some other woman entirely.

“he didn't even initiate it. i did. i pulled him into my apartment when he was dropping me back home. can you believe that? he was being a gentleman bringing me back to my doorstep and i just had to be a total hussy.”

rafe presses his hand down against his growing cock, imagining himself as that so called catholic gentleman.

“i unzipped his pants and tugged them down. he wasn't even hard. i played with him over his underwear, kissed his length and sucked on it and everything.”

rafes hands follow your description as he leans back against the wooden wall, tugging down his zipper and closing his eyes to picture it even better, some anonymous bold woman.

“i then pulled his underwear down. right there in the front hallway. when i saw him… i knew i was going to sleep with him next.”

you pause for long enough that rafe realizes he needs to speak. he hopes his voice doesn't come out strained. “then you slept with him?”

“yes. didn't even make it to the bedroom, he took me against the dining room table. how am i ever expected to settle down and have my own children and a loving family when all i really want is that high.”

“how does the high make you feel?”

“it comes right before the orgasm, really.” your voice drops in octave, and rafe wonders if your pussy is getting wet reimagining the scene. “when he's inside of me, pounding hard, and i know he's about to lose it too.”

rafe pushes his underwear down and tugs his cock out, not kid himself any longer that he's not extremely turned on and cannot leave the confessional with his pants tented.

“we're moaning in sync, not worrying about the neighbors in that moment. im clenching around him and he's-” you hesitate for a moment, and rafe swears he hears a sensual exhale, as if you may be touching yourself on the other side of the booth. “he's stretching me out. i love the pulsing of right when he's about to cum-”

rafe lets out a moan as he strokes before he realizes and sits up suddenly, but his reaction is too delayed as you're out of your booth and opening the door to his.

“you perv! father-” you come face to face with a handsome young man instead of the elderly priest you expected. “you're not the father.”

your eyes then travel down to his cock and that devious part of you taking over again.

“it-it was an accident.” rafe says quickly, trying to explain why he's in the priests side of the confessional when you step inside and close the door behind you.

“i have another sin to confess.” you pull the skirt of your dress up, revealing that you're wearing nothing beneath, your glimmering wet pussy directly in front of rafes face. he could so easily lean forward and taste you.

“ive always wanted to fuck in the confessional.”

rafe grabs your hips and tugs you down. he doesn't even know your name. he doesn't need to as his lips smash against yours, wildly making out.

you reach down between your bodies, grasping rafes hard cock and giving it a few strokes before you line yourself up.

you hesitate for just a moment before sinking down as rafe moans into your mouth, hoping that his mother isn't up in heaven looking down at him desecrating this holy place with you.

you gasp and pull away from the kiss as you adjust, your pussy being stretched just the way you described liking it.

“fuck.” rafe hisses out.

“shouldn't curse in a place of worship.” you smirk at him, cutting off whatever reply he had as you begin to move, bouncing up and down.

rafe grabs your hips, helping you move. his hands are strong as they disappear beneath your dress, needing to feel your bare skin.

“so good.” you whimper, pressing your forehead against rafes, breathing heavily as the temperature in the small booth rises.

“fuck, your pussy-” rafe grunts out as his hips begin to snap up into your tight heat. 

“you ever had a good catholic girl like this?” there's a hint of playfulness in your voice that rafe is shocked you can manage with your labored breathing.

“from your confession, im not sure you're all that good.” rafe says, moving his hand to rub his thumb over your clit, mostly just to see the reaction on your face as you moan out.

hes thankful for the late hour as he doesn't move his mouth forward to silence yours, letting your beautiful symphony of pleasure escape through the confessional walls and fill the church.

“this high.” you arch your back, eyes rolling back in your head as your fingers tighten on rafes shoulders. 

he knows exactly what you're speaking of. that moment when you're both on the apex, his cock swelling inside you while his thumb rubs against your clit, doing anything he can to elicit a reaction out of you, to increase your pleasure even more.

“cum for me.” rafe commands in a shockingly even voice, even surprising himself as your body stills and then shakes, crumpling forward into rafes strong arms as your pussy clenches around rafes cock, and it's all he needs to release himself, thrusting upwards and spilling inside of your cunt.

you're both breathing heavily as you come down from your high, wrapped up in each others bodies and your own intersecting pleasure before you have to pull away, realization setting in.

“oh my god.” you giggle. “we just fucked in the church.”

“shit.” rafe laughs as well. this is certainly not what he meant to do when entering into the church, yet his soul still feels lighter as he looks at your smile.

“god,” you look up at the ceiling, as if you're talking to him directly. “im so sorry. im going to hell.”

“i guess ill see you there.” rafe chuckles before he's interrupted by a gasp as you pull off of him.

rafe is quick to get himself back together, very aware of the fact that you're still bare under your dress, his cum no doubt dropping down your thigh.

you push open the door to the tiny booth and take a breath of cool air before rafe is quick to follow you out.

“i thought i heard a noise.”

you both freeze as you look up to see the nun walking from across the aisle.

“do you need the priest? he's already retired for the night.”

“no, sister.” you respond, a soft, innocent smile gracing your features as you grasp rafes hand and pull him to continue towards the exit. “see you at service sunday.”

you both let out a laugh as you push open the large wooden doors and flee from any more questions.

“can i at least get your name?” rafe asks as you enter into the night, way lit by moonlight.

“no.” you smile back at him. “but i will have another confession to make. tomorrow. same time.”

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 3k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest. AO3

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned.  Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for,  not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg. 

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten. 

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied. 

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.” 

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine.  Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple. 

You felt completely stuck. 

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out.  You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this. 

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.” 

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.” 

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.” 

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again. 

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

[bitchesuntitled]

Softer

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s feeling a tad self-conscious

Warnings/Tags: Humor, No outbreak AU, Tommy being an asshole in a brotherly way, fluff, pregnancy, sympathetic pregnancy, blended families, strip tease, nothing bad happens to Sarah ever and Ellie's your kid, and I think that’s it?

A/N: Thank you much @strang3lov3, @whocaresstillthelouvre, @jay-zzle for your eyes and Jai also for the moodboard!!! 😍🥰😘

This is for @beefrobeefcal’s Joel Sat on Me challenge! I hope you laugh at this as much as I did writing it 😅

Masterlist||AO3

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The gender reveal/baby shower was going off without a hitch. Maria was making sure people knew where to put gifts, Tommy was helping Joel at the grill, while your mom was helping you put the Boy or Girl banner around you. You hate this kind of attention but Maria and your parents both wanted to make a show of it. Despite your arguments on tradition being only for the first baby.

“Well, it’s you and Joel’s first baby together,” Maria deadpanned, all while your mom nodded along.

“Can’t beat that logic!” Your dad grinned.

“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes, “Good thing it’s the last one too.” 

Joel smirked, his palm caressing your thigh, “It’ll be fine,” he whispered in your ear, “Least there will be cake,” he added with a shrug. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Can’t beat that logic!” You reply mockingly, sticking your tongue out.

—

“Mom!” Ellie shouts, “Sarah’s trying to sneak into the cake!”

“Quit being such a narc!” Sarah laughs, playfully smacking Ellie’s arm, “You want to know just as much as I do!”

“Girls!” Joel hollers. “Come help your uncle Tommy set up!”

Both girls walk to the grill, helping Tommy carry hamburgers and hotdogs to the table.

“Alright everyone!” Maria announces, raising her voice to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s eat! Parents-to-be first!”

“Hey momma,” Joel grins, meeting you at the food table and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “What ya in the mood for?”

“More like what is the baby in the mood for?” you grumble, trying to adjust the sash around your body. “I hate this fucking thing,” you hiss.

“Just gotta eat, cut the cake and get through presents then I’ll kick everyone out,” Joel reassures.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble, grabbing a plate and staring at the food. The baby decided it wanted corn on the cob, a burger with all the extras, potato salad, and a small salad with more ranch on it than lettuce.

“Jesus Joel,” Tommy laughed when you both got to one of the tables. “Your woman’s the one eatin’ for two not you!”

Everyone looked at Joel with his plate piled high with two burgers, two hotdogs, and plenty of sides to feed a small army. You saw the flush creeping up his neck as he sat next to you. Joel opened his mouth to say something but Maria interrupted.

“Oh hush,” Maria said, smacking Tommy softly on the shoulder.

“Probably going through that sympathetic pregnancy thing,” a guest piped in. “My husband did that too!”

“Sympathetic pregnancy?” Ellie asked with her mouth full of potato salad. Your mom begins to laugh, shaking her head at Ellie.

“Ellie, gross,” you hiss. “Finish eating before you speak.”

Ellie makes a show of swallowing her food before speaking again. “What the hell is sympathetic pregnancy?”

“Ellie,” you groan. “Language! I haven’t spent the past 13 years raising a hellion!”

“And just think, you’re starting over!” your dad laughs.

Joel, meanwhile, keeps pushing the food around on his plate, taking smaller bites of the sides.

“Okay, googled it!” Sarah announces to the table, wagging her phone and clearing her throat. “Google says, c- cou- nevermind, I’m not even gonna try. Sympathetic pregnancy is a proposed condition in which an expectant father experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner. These most often include major weight gain, altered hormone levels, morning nausea, and disturbed sleep patterns.”

“That why you were asking for Pepto the other day at the site?” Tommy asks, nudging Joel’s shoulder before sitting down. “Dealing with some morning sickness as well?”

“Damn it Tommy,” Joel growls, balling up his fist. “If you don’t cut it out-“

“Alright, alright,” Maria hisses. “Enough.” She adds pointing at Tommy.

—

Joel stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself. Marriage had been good to him. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline the moment he got you pregnant. He hadn’t thought about it before but Tommy got in his head. Especially when he announced to everyone at the party it made sense now why Joel had to move his tool belt to the next hole for it to fit.

“Whatcha lookin’ at hot stuff?” You smirk, standing in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom with your toothbrush in hand.

“Thinkin’ I need to go on a diet,” Joel huffs out, turning towards you with his hands on his hips.

“The fuck would you do that for?!”

“Tommy’s ri—“

“I swear if the next words out of your mouth are Tommy’s right.” You pout, trying your best to not let the toothpaste escape your mouth as you move back into the bathroom, spitting into the sink, “I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

Going back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, watching Joel find his pajamas for the night. Sure, he’s gotten thicker in the middle since you got pregnant. His pants fit a bit tighter around his thighs. His chest, oh god his chest, the way your hands grip onto the meaty pecs he has now. You make a small noise at the memory of this morning before the girls woke up, and how you rode him as best you could with your swollen belly in the way, slick pooling in your underwear.

“What?” Joel asks, turning to look at you, noticing that feral glint in your eyes. He’s seen it more and more as the months have gone by. Sarah’s mom was nothing compared to you at this stage in pregnancy. Revved up and ready to go 24/7 these days.

“Tommy’s got it totally wrong,” you grin, “I love the way you look these days Joel.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to face you, “what.. uh.. what about it?”

“Dad bod through and through,” you hum, adjusting on the bed to sit a little further back. “Was thinking about this morning, how I can hold onto your chest a little better with your pecs being a little softer.”

“Yeah?” Joel grins, watching your eyes track his fingers as they open the first couple buttons of his flannel, his chest barely peeking out through the fabric, “Should I put on a show?”

“I wanna see my man!” you let out a breath nodding your head eagerly.

“Feel like we need some music or something,” Joel says, letting out a shy laugh, trailing his palms down the front of his shirt, popping open more of the buttons. You begin humming 70’s porno music, “No thank you, that’s enough.”

You shrug letting out a giggle as he continues unbuttoning his shirt, his strong chest and thick belly being revealed as he rips the flannel shirt back in a dramatic fashion, spreading his legs wide and tilting his head to sway his curls behind him.

“Jesus Christ, Napoleon Dynamite. Ya gonna take it off or what?”

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, straightening up, pinning you with a look, pulling his flannel back over his shoulders, “Listen, I’ve never done this for anybody. I’d ‘preciate if ya didn’t make rude comments.”

You clear your throat and lean your arms back against the bedding to prop yourself up, “Sorry, horny goblins took over, proceed.”

With his flannel shirt open, he starts flipping his belt open, stalking towards you, nodding your head at this new development, sliding his belt out quickly from his belt loops causing a gasp to escape your lips.

“Mmmm,” you moan softly, thighs squeezing together, and squirming on the bed “Joel. You look so fucking good like this.”

Joel spins around to show you his backside before slipping one shoulder of the flannel off, turning his head to the side with a smirk as he slowly slides it off his arm, followed by the other. You hear the button and zipper of his jeans sliding down. He begins teasing you with his jeans, dropping them some before pulling them back up and swiveling his hips, he puts one foot on the opposite leg to try and help pull the leg out.

“Fuck!” He yelps, as he falls back sitting on you, “Shit that wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Ow!” You groan, smacking his ass to get him to move. He rolls off you to lay beside you on the bed.

“You good?” Joel asks, laying on his side next to you, placing his palm on your belly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you grin, placing your hand on top of his with a sigh. “No Magic Mike in here, but for your first attempt that was good Miller,” you add with a smirk.

“Fuck you,” Joel grins, leaning up to kiss you.

“Fuck. Please!” You groan, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

[avatarkv]

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (2)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc: 5264)

You swung your legs over the edge, feet ghosting just above the calm lake that surrounded this part of the forest. It was a bit far from the village, but you felt more at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be found easily. This was your own place and ironically enough, a spot you and Jake had found years ago. You could see the familiar marks left from the arrows you had shot, deeply engraved in some of the trunks. 

One drawing had caught your eye. From one of the trees, a bit taller than the rest; an image of you and your father. It was silly, clearly etched by the hands of a kid no older than six. The lines were harsh as the wood itself was tough, but it was there– almost mockingly. You scoffed, mindlessly grabbing a pebble and flinging it right on the center. 

You have barely moved since you arrived here; detached yourself the moment you had sat near the jagged rocks. It was a habit you presumed you got from Jake. The longer you stayed, the more you succumbed to your ever-bleeding wounds– there was just something so tragic about being an eldest daughter.   

You weren’t all bite, despite the constant snarl on your lips. You weren't so egotistical as to think that you couldn't possibly be wrong, but tonight, tonight you knew damn well Jake was to blame. 

‘Is it because I’m not your daughter?’ 

Your own voice had rang through your mind. You wince in response, cringing internally. That could very well be the case– you weren't part of their family. You can’t help but think that they may have done it out of pity. 

But Kiri wasn’t exactly their own either. In fact, you and Kiri weren’t at all opposites at birth.

While you came from Tsu’tey, she was from Grace; both of you from separate blood and brought together by one. However you weren’t exactly close to Eywa or have the skills she possessed. Kiri was undeniably special– spiritual and awfully attuned. Heck, she had managed to tame her own ikran simply by asking it to be her friend. 

Still, there was no reason for Jake to treat you differently. You were jealous– of course you are. If he’s able to be as gentle as he is with your baby sister, why couldn’t he with you? It was a sickening thought, to think that he acts so rigid and unrelenting around you while he looked at her like she had hanged every star in the night sky. Sure Kiri was special, but you were at least his daughter too. Can’t he spare you even just a second of a loving glance?

With Kiri, he listens intently– looks at her with such tenderness as he takes in her every word. It was the same gaze he wore whenever we visited the sky-people lab; Jake would stare a bit too long at Grace, expression somewhere along the line of reminiscing. Whenever he had moments like these, his eyes would hold some sort of longing– a promise. Perhaps it was because Grace meant the world to him– literally. She taught him everything about Pandora, showed him the way of the Na’vi; gave him another shot at living. 

Kiri was exactly like her mother; wise and cunning. Jake probably sees Grace in her very image.  

You’d think this would be the embodiment of every father with their daughters; kind and vulnerable, but you would argue otherwise. When he looked at you, it was more of regret– grief prolonging. It was a gaze so ugly and unwanted; a weight you’re not supposed to carry. 

Because you’re exactly like Tsu’tey and Jake sees him in yourself. 

It was no secret that Jake was softer when it came to Tuk and Kiri. While you are relieved that it had been that way, you can never pray for them to experience the struggles you are burdened with– it tugged on your heartstrings that you would never feel the warmer side of your father; will never know how it feels to be babied nor to be held gently. 

You were her daughter too so you didn’t understand. What made you any different from them that you had to pretend his love was hidden beneath his icy glares and dismissive grunts? These were emotions nonetheless– however odd or minuscule they may have been. You thought that maybe, just maybe, there’d be a crack to this exterior. Maybe if you tried harder, Jake would soften up to you too. 

But that wasn’t the case because he never did. You had picked apart pieces of yourself that you thought weren’t pleasing– did better despite your age. You were young and only yearned for your father’s approval. 

( “You’re not doing it right. Again.” 

As you stretched your already sore arms for the nth time, ready to take aim, his hands tug on your stance– a bit harsher than intended. Light continued to glare down on your figure as you tirelessly corrected your posture again. Your ears pricked up at the sound of your sibling’s laughter, coming to you from afar. You stole a glance at them as they continued to play and enjoy themselves by the water, their childish exuberance highlighted by their splashing around in the shallow waves.

“Can’t I take a break?” You whined, dropping your stiff shoulders. Hearing them have fun made you want to jump in as well. 

“I didn’t let you talk my ear off just to give up. Come on, you promised me a bullseye today, baby girl.” He said, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You look down to your feet, a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want him to not take you seriously– you fear that if you let him down now, he wouldn’t let you do anything again. “Just one hit and I’ll let you off–”

His head turns sharply towards Kiri as she calls out for Jake, asking him to join them in their game. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle as he yells back a short response of ‘in a minute.’

“Again, come on.” His hands move quickly and firmly grasp your arms, helping you back to the same position before. “I’ll be watching, promise.” With a light tap on your shoulder, he rushes off, chasing after your siblings towards the water.

The quicker you got it done, the sooner you would be able to play. You pulled on the string again and released a heavy sigh before releasing the arrow. After several tries of firing shots that missed their mark, you finally managed to hit dead center with one shot. Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief crossing your face before you jump excitedly, “Did you see that, dad? Did you–”

Your yell was instantly drowned out by Lo'ak's hearty laugh. You couldn't help but feel deflated as you watched your father lift him up onto his shoulders while the others trailed behind them in a fit of giggles. You run towards them, bow in hand. 

“You weren’t watching–” You tried to pull his hand in your direction, gesturing towards the arrow that was still firmly embedded into the red ring you had created on the trunk of the tree.

"Ah, darn, I missed it?" He said between breathy chuckles as Kiri tried to tug on his tail from behind, barely taking note of your work. "Why don't you do it again? This time I'll be sure to pay attention."

“But I want to play with you now.” 

“Dad– Neteyam caught something! It’s huge, come look!” Jake slowly lowers Lo'ak from his shoulders, letting them pull him towards where Neteyam stood. The children squealed at the sight of the fish (with Kiri letting out a few disgusted gags), but Jake reveled in pride. “Yeah, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman!”

You stayed still on the shore watching them– watching him. It was so easy to lose your father’s attention despite your best efforts. You retreated back to your spot, eyes glaring at the arrow sticking out from the tree. If a single bullseye wasn’t enough to impress Jake, then you’d just have to perfect your aim. Your hits will never miss again and you’ll make him proud.) 

You were clueless. If only you knew that there was no satisfying your father, you would’ve spent the days tirelessly training to play instead– to be an actual kid without having the worries of a grown adult. 

You could leave. At the thought of it, your head swiveled towards the unfamiliar path that would take you away from the clan– away from everything you know. You could leave and never come back; take your father’s name and build your own person. There was this selfish thought pricking at the back of your brain that once they noticed your absence, everyone would look for you and even feel sorry for what they put you through; that Jake would be sorry to lose you. 

You wonder what kind of reputation you'd leave for him when everyone realizes you had run away, never to come back. But it was unfair– your mother would be devastated. Neytiri had already gone through enough, were you worth another heartbreak? She didn’t deserve that. 

Suppose you could only dream that Jake would put on an effort for a search party– for him to grow hopeless and regretful while searching for you. You could only dream that he’d run towards you, arms wide open. “You scared me, sweetheart. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, dad’s sorry.” 

But you’ve been away for hours and no one has reached out yet. They probably assumed that you only needed some time and space to clear your head, not seeing any cause for alarm. The only thing that waited for you back home was a hell of a scolding and a week’s punishment of tending the ikrans. Sighing, you decided to just head back.  

Your steps are careful– silent, as you near your hut again. You expected for the worst. Neytiri could have told Jake to stay guard outside until you finally decided to come home for all you know, but you weren’t ready for another heated conversation with him just yet. So as you make your way back, you stick your neck out behind the bushes, trying to make out of the surroundings. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jake that was waiting outside. It was Kiri. Her figure glows underneath the starry night and it was hard not to be discouraged, but you suppose it was better than having to deal with your father again. 

"Kiri?" You called out in a low voice, and instantly her head snapped up. She quickly jumps to her feet upon seeing your arrival, heart racing as she rushes towards you. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms tightly around you in a hug. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “Oh great mother, thank you.”

You tentatively put your arms around her in response, hands patting the top of her head. “This isn’t the first time I ran from home,” Your voice is soft– unsure. 

Feeling your hesitance, she slowly withdraws from you. “But it’s the first time sempul has said something so..” She stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head as if to clear away her thoughts. “I worry you’d finally want to leave.” 

You stared at her, feeling your insides soften. You could never get angry at Kiri, no matter the situation. You couldn’t just leave. She was your sister still and no one would ever understand you like she does. No one will ever grow you another sibling. As much as you hated yourself, you were meant to watch as she thrives.  

Siblings were such a weird concept; it was hard for you to wrap your head around it. Despite the fact that you could hate them with every fibre of your being, you’d still love them unconditionally and protectively; despise them but burn down the whole universe for their safety. It made no sense to be so full of such strong, conflicting emotions all at once, but she was your sister and that was enough explanation.

“Stupid eywa-powers.” You joke as you take your index finger, lightly pressing it against her forehead. She playfully swats your hand away with a laugh, eyes crinkling.

She silently murmurs, “Not stupid” to herself, a small laugh escaping her lips.

You two slowly sat on your wicker chairs in front of the fire. The seat creaked as you made yourself comfortable. Jake was real handy with his hands back then– made all sorts of things for everyone. Wooden Toruks, comfortable hammocks, and each one a special chair. Everyone’s name was etched on the back and although it was a bit smaller now, considering it was made for when you were toddlers, no one had grown out of sitting on it. 

You smiled at the memory. It was like tradition for the Sully family– a silly one, but loved nonetheless. He first made you the wicker chair and although it was rather flimsy, you argued that Neteyam should have one as well when he came around. 

It was so conflicting– to be able to remember your father was mean, despite being kind, then to know him as kind, despite being mean. You fear Jake could be every word you think of but the word father. 

“Remember that time when we played hide-and-seek and we all thought Lo’ak cheated by hiding back at home only to find out we left him at the forest?” Kiri spoke, eyes fixated at the flames. 

You chuckled, “Yeah, even dad was in on it– told us not to tell mom that we left him.”

“Oh– and that one time they left us to Mo’at to have their little dates and came home to see grandma knocked out and her hut a mess?”

You laughed, rather loudly this time. You remembered the memory like it was yesterday– little Neteyam wrapped from head to toe in bandages as you two tried to play healers; pastes and herbs were scattered everywhere while Lo’ak was playing to his own devices happily (something about kid Lo’ak and wanting to play alone most of the time). “Lo’ak and his lisp trying to explain why he was covered in warrior paint all over his body.”

“Ki-ti told me to do it!” Kiri squeaked out in her best impression of Lo’ak, before both of you burst into smothered laughter— careful not to wake anyone up. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, the area was silent once more. There was no sound other than the crackle of the fire, its flame illuminating the darkness in the vicinity. 

“I’m trying to see the situation in both perspectives,” She starts once the quietness grows unbearable. You averted your gaze, not wanting to talk it out with her.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Kiri.” You threw your head back, your eyes burning a hole into the night sky.

“I just don’t want it to explode like what happened a while ago again.” 

You kiss your teeth and let out an exasperated sigh, tongue clicking as you exhale. Deep down you knew that there was no getting out of this situation, so you may as well hear what they had to say. “Fine. What’s your diagnosis, doc?” 

The flap of the hut's entrance is suddenly thrown back, revealing a rather disoriented looking Lo'ak stumbling out. It's clear he had just been stirred from his slumber. “You two aren’t as quiet as you think you are.” He said, his voice low. He made his way over to Kiri and sat down beside her with an audible yawn. “What is it this time?”

“Eywa tells me of your troubles,” Kiri starts, ignoring Lo’ak. “Father isn’t at all the greatest, I know, but he’s trying– His choices aren't really the best, but it’s what he knows. If you think about it, he was just as young once and you don’t exactly become a father twice.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“She’s saying– cut him some slack, maybe?” Lo'ak breaks the stillness with an unexpected remark, his voice quite loud in comparison to Kiri's careful words. His comment catches you off guard and you shift your position uncomfortably on your seat.

“Brother, you really have to stop going out with Spider. You and your lingo is getting harder and harder to discern.” Kiri jabs him from the side, “What he means to say is– maybe you should try being the bigger person instead?”

You let out a deep breath through your nostrils, not enjoying the direction of the conversation. Your brow crinkles in concentration as you try to make sense of why the discussion was taking this turn. You had no desire to pick apart the problem any further and yet, here you were– perhaps Neytiri told them to talk some sense to you? To quiet down for the sake of your old man?

Already sensing your anger, Lo’ak quickly interjects again. “Listen, It’s like,” He turns to you, the grogginess in his expression fading away and being replaced by something more serious. “If dad happens to reprimand us, we save our excuses or any reason we have. The response he wants is an apology and an apology is what you’re going to say– that’s it.”

“But that’s unfair.” You let out a groan, lips turning into a deep frown. “Especially to you and Neteyam.”

Lo’ak only lets out a playful scoff, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You mean, especially to Neteyam. Bro’s an automated machine– expect him to immediately take the blame.” He says, grinning. “I think dad is just.. cracking the code still? Shit, I don’t know. He had to learn to live on two different stars. It must be hard on him.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you? Trying to understand someone older?” 

Lo’ak stills for a minute as heavy silence envelopes everyone. “Of course it does. It stings a lot sis– but I think, no parent deserves a resentful son when all they wanted was for me to be better.” 

Then it crashes down upon you like a heavy sack filled with rocks, a realization pressing directly against your chest as you watch Lo’ak’s face, illuminated against the flicker of the flames– the lights cast an image you failed to recognize before. Your brothers weren’t exactly immune to Jake’s ways either. He was equally as tough on them. 

Maybe you can try for their sake. Maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for your father’s open arms. 

“Why don’t you join us tomorrow instead? Take your mind off things. We’re visiting the old shack with Spider,” Lo'ak's hand carefully reaches for your hair, the tips of his fingers ruffling through your braids– a gesture he picked up after Neteyam. You chuckle, suddenly slightly embarrassed. 

“Isn’t it dangerous?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 

“It is,” Kiri answers for Lo’ak, giving him a pointed glare. “Tuk heard about it and is begging to come along.” 

“More like blackmailed me– I’ll tell mom if you won’t let me come.” He put on a mocking impression of Tuk, sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated way. Kiri gave him another jab, causing him to hiss in response. “But it should be safe.” 

Kiri rolls her eyes. “We are so getting into trouble.”

“You guys go,” You say, back resting against the chair again. “Think I should fix the situation with dad first before getting in trouble again.” 

You feel Kiri’s eyes on you– gaze emitting a sense of gratitude, almost like a tangible thank you for trying. It’s funny how she’s younger than you and yet she looked out for you more than you had. 

You let out a deep sigh as the three of you settled in, reveling in the quiet serenity of the woods. The soft sounds of the forest enveloped you, providing a sense of calm that was hard to miss. Slowly, it lulled you all to a familiar kind of comfort. 

Breakfast was unsurprisingly silent. 

You felt like the room was full of robots, their limbs jerking and movements mechanically programmed as they ate. As everyone shifted ever so slightly, it seemed almost like they were doing it robotically - stiff and slow. It was like they were walking on eggshells around you and it was hard not to roll your eyes. 

It was painfully awkward– a hard watch as Jake tried hard not to make eye contact with you. Neytiri would occasionally jab him from the side and pinch the fat of his thigh. ‘Talk to her.’ – her glare would send him the message. 

He lets out a sigh before visibly gulping. “Y/n.” 

Your head suddenly jerks upwards from the bowl resting in your lap, startled by your father’s voice calling for you. Neytiri watches in anticipation while your heart pounded madly against your chest. Suddenly, the air fills with tension as all movement ceases. Not a single soul speaks or breathes– waiting.

“Pass the salt.” Jesus Christ. 

You give him a deadpan expression, stretching your arms over to pass it to him. He carefully takes it, shaking it over his already salty meal. Neytiri could only push her hands against her face in frustration, a groan of exasperation coming from deep within. After a few minutes, she finishes up and leaves with Tuk in her arms. The rest follow suit.  

“I’m off,” You finish cleaning up the table, standing up from your seat and grabbing the weapons you needed for an impromptu hunt. Without waiting for a reply, you left Jake alone on the table. 

As you trekked further into the forest, you prayed to Eywa for guidance. You were careful to smear the war paint onto your cheeks and forehead– breathing labored, but focused nonetheless. 

You figured, your father has been doing bad from the recent hunts– only coming home with fruits and small portions of meat, sometimes none at all. It was that kind of season where the animals were out to hide and hibernate. You didn’t know where you got the confidence that you’d be able to return with something, considering the best next best warriors could hardly do so. 

You had to try regardless; you thought that perhaps it could be a way for you and Jake to open up a conversation with each other. Maybe he could soften down his glare a bit when you come home with something to eat– but as hours passed and the sun burned to noon, you were only met with disappointment. 

You stopped by an unfamiliar area, leaning against a tree as you tried to catch your breath. You regret not bringing your ikran with you– just what were you thinking?

As if the great mother had noticed your desperation, a familiar sound roars from a distance. Your ears perked up as you tried to walk through the thick bushes. A lone sturmbeest, drinking by the river. You sighed in relief before hurriedly taking your bow out of your back. They mostly traveled by a herd, but today might just be your luckiest– you stretch your arms, carefully approaching the animal. 

Just this once, you pleaded, be in my favor. 

The journey home was dreadful. You had been carrying meat and a few bones for what seemed like hours on end, feeling the strain in your back from the task. It was a small sturmbeest– presumably female by the size, but it should be enough to provide meals for a week or so. Before you knew it, eclipse approached fast and you were eager to meet your hammock. 

You couldn’t see; unable to hold any form of light as you needed both hands to carry the heavy sack, but the thought of going home with something to proudly show your father rekindled the sense of pride that was long gone; a feeling you hadn't had in a long time– burned by the countless times you’ve tried to gain even a drop of recognition.

You were successful in hunting a sturmbeest when no one couldn’t for the past weeks– your father would be proud and that was all the strength you needed to continue waking. 

Noticing the familiar path back to the clan, a surge of adrenaline courses through your body from the thought of already nearing home. But as the horns blared from the village, you felt nothing but confusion– What could it mean and why this late? You quickened your pace towards them. 

Ikrans flew in, landing at the open space as everyone gathered around. You squeezed your way in through the crowd– stomach churning as the sound of Tuk's cries became more and more clear with every step; but before you could run to your baby sister, you were harshly pulled back. You immediately recognize your father’s calloused hands, but this time his grip was harsh– unrelenting. Careful not to trip on your feet, you steadied yourself, head looking up to meet his glare. 

“Where were you?” 

And just like that, your thoughts come crashing down around you from the sight of your father towering your figure, leaning in slightly. You feel it in the pit of your stomach; this wasn't what you wanted to come home to, this wasn't what you were expecting.

“Sir I–” 

“The kids are hurt,” Neytiri hissed, tugging him sharply away from you. “For once, hold your tongue.”

He gives you one last glance, nostrils flaring as he walks away. That was your cue to trail behind. You walked behind him, eyes cast downwards as your thoughts raced through your mind. Neytiri is quick to come and stand by your side, soft kisses pressed into the top of your head. “Are you hurt, ma’ite? Where were you?” She softly asks. 

You pause, feeling the words on the tip of your tongue leave the moment you try to open your mouth to speak. For some reason, you felt embarrassed— ashamed. 

“What happened?” You whispered as you neared your grandmother’s hut. You glanced back to your sibling’s shivering figures, all of them unable to look you in the eye. Neytiri didn’t answer either– didn’t know how to tell you that they had found them once again. They processed the severity of the situation still, clearly shaken up and scared. 

Everyone stepped inside, Mo'at immediately gathering each of them in a warm embrace. She spoke her thanks to Eywa in a gentle murmur, kissing the top of their heads. Neytiri quickly drew Tuk into her own arms, easing her shaking body. 

“Outside, now.” Jake whispers before leaving. You take one last look around at all the people in the room before finally following him, your palms beginning to sweat as your anxiety intensifies.

Once you both find yourselves in a place where there were no lingering stares or whispers, (and without Neytiri having to save your ass this time), he turns to you, anger just as fiery as before. He strides back and forth, feet heavy on the ground as he attempts to choose his words carefully.

“I–” He started to speak, but then averted his gaze, his jaw clenched tight as he tried again. “Where were you?” 

You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you mull over the question, taking a deep breath before finally attempting to answer. “I went out on a hunt. I have–”

“Without telling anyone firsthand? With scattered avatars over the perimeter?” Jake is quick to interject, arms flailing in anger. “Just what were you thinking? You knew about them going to the old shack and you did nothing to prevent it?” 

Your shoulders slump wearily, feeling extremely overwhelmed. “I only wanted to–”

“Jesus Christ, it’s always about what you want, yeah? You with wanting to be olo’eykte, you with wanting to be heard. You and your goddamn wants had us all worried!” 

And as you listen to him raise his voice, you turn younger and younger– until you were that same kid trying to tug on his arms to look at your first hit; that same kid who would do anything just for a moment of his time. It was like being ten years old all over again and realizing that he was slowly slipping away. That’s where you finally decided that Jake— your father, was just capable of unloving a child. 

You take a step back, feeling the frustration boiling over as well. “Well maybe if you were a better father, they wouldn’t have the need to go against you every once in a while!” You shouted with the same volume as his, “You act as if we’re some sort of troops rather than a family–”

“I do it for you– for everyone! To keep them safe! You think it’s easy?” 

“Well you did a pretty good job because from what I see, they’re shaking in their boots inside grandma’s hut!” You sarcastically remarked, “Best dad of Pandora, yeah?” 

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters under his breath before looking up, as if he was pleading for Eywa to lengthen his patience. He then looked at you, eyes momentarily softening. You were breathing heavily, fangs baring. It was funny, he thought. You weren’t his daughter and yet you stood in front of him now looking exactly like him. 

What he didn’t understand was that it wasn't Tsu’tey’s attitude that was passed down to you– rather, it was Jake’s anger you inherited. This was all him. All his fault. 

“I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.” You muttered, gaze not meeting his. “There’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the olo’eyktan and a father and you’re doing a real shit job at the latter.”

I miss the latter, you failed to say. 

You failed to see the way his ears flattened against his head, how his shoulders dropped like he couldn’t hold the weight of the world’s pressure anymore– but you were unable to see him. No, you two didn’t see each other eye to eye. To know that you failed your child was something a parent would never want to hear. His own daughter resented him and it was a heartache beyond repair. 

“You think you make parenting any easier for me?” 

“Then I wish you never took me in!” 

It was such a thoughtless thing to do; to utter words that you know will only harm you more than they would ever heal - but it was there, finally out of your system; a though that lingered for as long as you can remember. Why take me in? Why raise a kid you wouldn't be able to care for?

You only wished that words could be undone but neither of you knew when to bite one's tongue back.

“Yeah?” He challenged, letting out a mocking snicker. “I really wish I didn’t– is that what you want me to say? Then go ahead and leave. Find a new family, see if they won’t find you any less difficult.”

And that was the final blow– the push you needed to leave. You looked at him in disbelief, vision blurry with tears. You shoved the bag right to his chest, forgetting it momentarily amidst the shouting session you just had with your father; the one you desperately wanted to present to him. With nothing else to say, you stormed off, leaving him behind. 

Oh Eywa, there is nothing else as undoing as being an eldest daughter. 

believe me, i've been trying to post this since 7 am and it's already a quarter 'til 9. tumblr has got to b fucking w me bec i just ran through at least 4 problems trying to get this on my account

anyway, hellaur. i know this is a bit overdue, but i had to make adjustments because i just had to get everyone's inputs and opinions in! i absolutely LOVE everyone's ideas nd you best believe i am trying to make everything word (also bec of the fact that i am a slow writer, so pls bear w me) hopefully i'm doing the story justice! this part went through a lot of modifications bec i kept feeling unsatisfied (i still am, kinda)

also, i couldn't tag a few people! 'm so sorry, some of the names don't pop up when i type it down ;(

tags: @erm2020quinzeanos @al-lethan @violilaqrs @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @hiddensnow1 @lunyyx @pearlsandcoconuts @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch

[nsharks]

can we see more of dad ghost ♥︎ im obsessedLMAO

“soft around the edges”

aka when ghost’s son runs up to him in front of the team (a little part 2 to this fic. part 3 here.)

Soap doesn't share the Lieutenant's secret with the rest of the force.

Things go back to normal after that brief, bizarre encounter with you. When their break is over, Ghost carries on the typical dry humor and sharp orders, pretending that Soap never had dinner at his cozy home and met his pregnant wife.

Though, MacTavish does notice little differences in his stoic superior turned new dad. Ghost is shockingly, and ever-so-slightly, nicer. His language is still foul. But he's a little less rough around the edges: compliments Soap a bit more, tells him to shut the fuck up a little bit less.

It's not something that any of the others notice, of course, which is why they are all so baffled when they finally do figure out about Ghost's secret family.

It's two years later when they are disbanding at a base in the UK that you accidentally reveal yourself.

It's truly an accident.

Whenever you pick him up from the military base, Simon instructs you to wait outside. Says he doesn't want to put you at any risk. But you have a knack for not listening to him. You missed him so much during the past four months, and the two-year-old in your arms was old enough to start asking where his dad was, so you figured you could wait for him inside this time, hidden away in a corner.

Your plan might have worked if it weren't for the swell of your belly making it difficult for you to hold the squirming toddler.

He recognizes his dad even with the skull mask on.

Immediately starts to yelp for him, kicking his little feet around, and giving you no choice but to set the toddler down for a second. But your son is growing so much, and he's got his father's determination.

It's definitely riveting for Soap and the team to witness the whole thing unfold.

At first sight, the waddling two-year-old boy doesn't faze them. There were usually family members and little ones waiting at the gate. Gaz and Price are saying their goodbyes when they both notice that the toddler running around is coming in their direction. Or more specifically, in Ghost's direction.

Soap knows right away what's happening.

Watches with raised brows.

For the rest of the team, this is the first time they witness Ghost's demeanor shift to something so soft and peculiar. His mannerisms give everything away before the kid even reaches him: a typically-unfazed Ghost looks around frantically, probably wondering how the hell his son even got here, until he spots you waddling sheepishly after him.

Oh, fuckin' hell.

You give your husband an apologetic look that says I'm sorry and help me at the same time.

“Can’t believe what I’m seeing," Gaz mutters, watching as Ghost bends down to pick up the small child.

Tell me 'bout it, Soap wants to say. But he's already gone through the initial disbelief two years ago, so now, he simply watches with knowing eyes.

He can't say he didn't spend some time the past two years wondering what kind of parents you and Ghost had become. He knew bits and pieces of his past and hesitantly wondered if Ghost had carried on that behavior.

But now he witnesses the Lieutenant scoop the toddler in his arms, making him look so small against his broad chest. “I’ve got ya, kid.” And he is tucking the boy's head underneath his chin and pressing his masked nose to the top of his hair.

Then, the toddler reaches a small hand to his mask and pats it, perhaps harder than he realizes, but Ghost simply shakes his head and patiently wraps his much larger hand around the curious little one’s.

Ghost is soft and gentle and anything but angry, even though you worried that he might have been.

Everything seems to sink in for the team when they see you finally reach your husband. Your mouth moving to rush out apologies:

"I'm sorry, Simon, I know you said to wait outside. We just really wanted to see you and I tried to hold him and-"

And Ghost might have been frustrated on another day. But on this day, he’s just relieved to see you again. It's apparent to all of the eyes watching that this brooding man, with his deadpan eyes and a trademark mask, is utterly and unabashedly in love with you and the little family you have gifted him. Finally able to fully relax as he wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your neck, something you could never imagine him doing in public like this a few years ago.

“S’okay, love,” he tells you. “Can’t be mad, can I? Not when I get to see you two.”

You’re carrying his second child and he hasn't seen you in months and he simply doesn't give a fuck at the moment.

To his team watching, the Lieutenant seems like another person.

They're watching Simon, not Ghost.

"That's his girl, then?" Alejandro finally asks, as they have been frozen in place. Watching in curiosity and bewilderment.

“Wife seems like,” Gaz says. Shooting Soap a curious look, he adds, “Did you know anything about this?”

“Hell,” Soap shrugs to feign innocence. “Didn’t know a thing-“

But, of course, you’re soon waving over at him and smiling before your husband can stop you. “Hi, Johnny!”

Guilty and caught, Soap offers a small wave in return before shaking his head. “Christ, alright. May have ran into them awhile back.”

“And you didn’t tell us, MacTavish?” Gaz scoffs.

“Not my secret to tell,” Soap shrugs again and watches as Ghost caresses your pregnant stomach. He leans down to whisper something in your ear and you smile coyly at him, planting a little kiss to the cheek of his hard mask. Ghost is somehow able to hold you and your son firmly against his chest and still have more room. Must be what had the two of you realizing that a fourth family member was needed.

Soap hears the snide remarks as your family leaves and is out of earshot.

Looks like Ghost keeps himself busy on leave.

You think he helps with the diapers?

The kid’s even got his eyes.

Reckon he takes the mask off during sex?

Finally, Soap groans out, “Haud yer wheesht. That’s enough.”

“Sergeant’s right,” Price, whose own surprise has faded into something more stern, quiets the members of the team who are still lingering. “That’s your superior you’re gosspin’ about. Show some respect and bugger off.”

But once the Captain is gone, Soap allows himself this one quip (because, he’d been so good at not sharing what he’d seen for two years).

It’s a quiet one that he mentions only to Kyle.

“He takes her shopping an’ carries all the bags. Saw it myself.”

[zweetpea]

so please imagine if you will…

CW: Babies

Imagine You and Gojo as teens. Him being a total player and you being his “innocent” chaotic junior by a year.

Imagine you’ve got a bit of a rivalry going on. Him with all his... stuff... and you with... let's say with a Nullifying cursed Technique.

Imagine you guys grew up together. You always had an edge on him in a fight up until he unlocked his reversed curse technique during his second year at Jujustu Tech.

Imagine that somewhere in your studies you and Gojo had a heart to heart about your futures. It's late... maybe you guys are pulling an all-nighter. He reveals in a moment of what he perceived as weakness his insecurities being the next head of the Gojo clan brought him. How he didn't feel like he'd ever fall in love. How he knew felt like the higher ups would push an arranged marriage onto him. How he was scared that he wouldn't be a good husband or father. And his biggest fear that any child he did bring into this world would have to face the same hardships he did only without the six eyes to back it up. How he felt guilty for taking that opportunity away from them.

Imagine shifting his head onto your lap in that moment and proposing a deal to him. If you both were single by the time you hit 25 you'd marry each other. That way he wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he'd be a good partner. Or how strong his kids could be. Or what kind of woman the higher ups would try to force him to be with.

Imagine after that day he never went on another date for a decade. waiting for the day you'd get married and he could finally have babies with you to keep the Gojo legacy alive.

Imagine him sabotaging any dates you get over the next decade. Being jealous and possessive of you in front of any guys who might find you attractive. (In his mind it's all of them)

Imagine him never telling you any of this You probably already know

Imagine after a while you move away to pursue a career somewhere else because of how clingy and obsessive Gojo has gotten. Completely forgetting about the promise you made and coincidentally not being able to pursue a real relationship because of being a sorcerer.

Imagine on your 25th birthday you get a text from a random number asking you a bunch of strange questions. "Red velvet's still your favorite cake flavor right?" "Is royal blue and rose gold tacky?" "Is rose gold still your favorite color?" "Out of these options which dress is your favorite?" They're all very short cocktail wedding dressed.

Imagine obviously ignoring this stalker. Going about your day. Maybe getting a few drinks with some friends after their work days were over. And when you uber home a bit tipsy you find someone waiting for you in your living room.

"Sweetheart! You're home! And you're wasted!" Gojo held you and kissed your temple. "Come on let's get you cleaned up and get you to bed."

"Gojo? I'm not drunk I'm just a bit buzzed. How and why are you here?"

"Come on, babe. Call me Satoru! I'm here to celebrate your birthday and our engagement!"

"Huh?"

Imagine how sweet he could be as he picks you up in a princess carry and takes you to the bathroom. Carefully getting you cleaned up and reminding you about your deal, and of course asking if you got his texts. You merely laugh and kiss his cheek.

Imagine how the next morning you wake up and roll over in bed only to come face to chest with him.

"How'd you get in my bed?" You'd smile at him.

"I carried my lovely wife here last night, after she got drunk off her ass."

"I thought I told you to sleep on the couch."

"I was lonely." He'd whine and press his cheek against the top of your head.

Imagine how he'd take care of most of the wedding preparations. (except the dress cause ain't no way you bout to look like some hooker barbie on your big day) And him giving you his mother's wedding ring. Just the two of you and a few close friends having a small, intimate ceremony.

Imagine "Forgetting" to tell the higher ups about the union so they call him in to have a meeting with him telling him that they've selected a woman to be his wife. He laughs in their faces as he pulls out his phone and pulls up a photo of you pregnant with his baby.

Imagine his smirk when they all start to freak out and protest. And oh boy...

Imagine how that smirk falls when one of them suggests that the baby isn't his...

Imagine him coming home all bloody. His smile as wide as ever as he informs you that "It's not mine" or his rather. And how you just hand him some new clothes and push him towards the shower.

Imagine how thrilled he is when he finally gets to hold his baby in his arms. The silent vindication he feels seeing as the baby looks exactly like him.

"I spend 12 hours squeezing you out of my body and you have the audacity to look like your father. You really are a Gojo."

Just please Imagine it all for me if you will

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home

Hey guyss, I wanted to write a story for Charles to celebrate his victory in Monza. I know this part is very reader x Arthur but let me know what you think and if you want more parts :)

You’ve known the Leclercs all your life. It’s hard not to when you’re their neighbour. With you and Arthur being the same age and going to the same class, you naturally became best friends, spending every moment together. From school to afternoons playing at each other's houses to accompanying his family to the track for their races, your lives were intertwined.

You grew up with them. You were there when Arthur won his first race, when Charles got into Formula 1, when you graduated high school. Your life has always been surrounded by the Leclercs, so it was almost inevitable that you’d fall for one of them—Charles.

It was evident to everyone. Even Arthur noticed, and he didn’t like it at all. He made you promise you would never date his brother. After all, how could he stand that when he was in love with you, even if you had no idea?

Your crush on Charles was just that—a crush, an infatuation, a dream. He was older than you and often had a different girl on his arm. You didn’t stand a chance, or so you thought.

Aside from your love dilemmas, everything seemed to be going okay, until one day, your father received a job offer that involved moving to Spain. Your life changed drastically from one day to the next. You spent your last night in Monaco with Arthur, savouring your final hours together before your departure.

The moon hung low over Monaco, casting a soft glow on the city. You and Arthur sat on the steps of the Leclercs' home, the cool night air surrounding you. It was quiet, the kind of silence that carries a weight of unspoken words.

"I can't believe you're leaving," Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can't either," you replied, looking down at your hands. "It all happened so fast. One moment, everything was normal, and the next, we're packing up our lives."

Arthur nodded, staring off into the distance. "It's not going to be the same without you here."

You felt a lump in your throat. "I'm going to miss you so much, Arthur. We've done everything together since we were kids. I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

He turned to look at you, his eyes soft but filled with something you couldn’t quite place. "You'll do great things. You always do. Spain…it's just a new adventure for you."

"But I don't want to go," you blurted out, the tears you had been holding back starting to spill over. "I want to stay here, with you, with everyone. I don’t want to leave my life behind."

Arthur reached out, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The touch was tender, lingering longer than usual. "Hey, don’t cry. We’ll still be friends, no matter where you are. You know that, right?"

You nodded, sniffling. "I know, but it's not the same."

He hesitated for a moment, as if battling with himself. "I just…I want you to know that…you mean a lot to me. More than you probably realize."

You gave a small, shaky laugh. "You mean a lot to me too, Arthur. You're my best friend."

He looked like he wanted to say something more, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it again, shaking his head. "Yeah…best friends."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Arthur gazed at you, his eyes searching yours, and you thought you saw something flicker there—a brief, intense flash of emotion that was gone as quickly as it appeared. Before you could decipher it, he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly against him.

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what," he murmured into your hair.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "And I'll always be here for you."

You stayed like that for a while, neither of you wanting to let go, until the sky began to lighten with the first signs of dawn. With a heavy heart, you pulled back, knowing it was time to go.

"Goodbye, Arthur," you whispered.

"Goodbye," he replied, his voice barely audible.

As you walked away, you missed the way he watched you, the way his hand reached out, almost as if he wanted to call you back, to tell you everything he’d been holding inside. But he didn’t. He let you go.

Years had passed since that night. You had spent the last four years in Spain, earning your degree and living a different life. But now, you were back in Monaco, ready to start your master's degree.

The airport buzzed with activity, a mix of tourists and locals rushing to their destinations. You walked through the arrival gate, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

And there he was.

Arthur stood near the entrance, leaning against a pillar with his hands in his pockets, a smile spreading across his face as he spotted you. His hair was a bit longer, and he looked more mature, but his eyes still held that same warmth you remembered.

"Welcome back," he said, pulling you into a hug as you reached him.

"It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed, squeezing him tightly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he replied, his voice softer. He pulled back, looking you over. "Spain's been good to you. You look great."

"Thanks," you said, blushing slightly. "You look good too, Arthur. Really good."

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks. It's been…different without you here."

You smiled, linking your arm through his as you started walking towards the exit. "Well, I'm back now. We have a lot of catching up to do."

As you talked, Arthur felt his heart swell with every word you said, every smile you gave. Seeing you again brought back all those feelings he’d tried so hard to bury. But he knew better than to show it. You still saw him as your best friend, nothing more. And after all this time, he didn’t want to risk ruining what you had.

"Yeah, we do," he agreed, keeping his voice light. "So, where to first? Home or food?"

You laughed. "Definitely food. I’m starving!"

Arthur chuckled, guiding you towards his car. "Food it is, then. I've got just the place in mind."

As he drove, he stole glances at you, soaking in every detail, every expression. He had never stopped loving you, even after all these years. But for now, he was content just having you back in his life, even if it was just as friends.

Because being near you, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile—that was enough. At least, for now.

Part 2

[cutielando]

the curse of monaco | c.l.

synopsis: in which Charles finally conquers Monaco

my masterlist

There was nothing like racing through the streets you grew up in, Charles would always say to you.

In all the years you had known him and been with him, he had only had one goal: winning the Monaco Grand Prix. 

You didn’t know why that was, whether it was a tribute to his late father, a tribute to Jules or just the pride of knowing he conquered the streets he had walked his entire life. Maybe it was a combination of all 3.

Charles had not been treated well by his home race the past couple of years. 2 DNFs, 1 DNS and 2 disappointing results had plagued his mind, making the weeks leading up to the race filled with more stress than he should carry.

But you had a good feeling this time. Ever since he got into the car in FP1, then topping the charts all throughout FP2 and FP3, you felt something in your gut change. For once, after so many doubtful years, there was no worry and disappointment in your heart as you waited in the garage for the qualifying session of the weekend. Every negative feeling was replaced with hope, so much hope that you didn’t know what to do with it.

Charles was the complete opposite. While he couldn’t deny that the car had finally come alive and he had the pace he needed, he felt like he couldn’t let himself hope too much, not after everything he’d been through.

“Come on, you know I’m right. You’ll be on pole and you’ll win the race” you said to him as you lounged in his driver room, watching him get dressed in his fireproofs and racing suit.

“Mon amour, you know how Monaco is. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then be disappointed if I don’t get pole or don’t win” he reasoned, but deep down he was feeling the exact same thing you were.

“But this year is going to be different, I know it will!” you pressed on, making him chuckle in adoration at the hear of your determined voice. “Every other driver has said the same thing and every presenter from F1 TV is saying you’re definitely going to break the curse tomorrow” 

“Have you been watching F1 TV again to hear what they have to say about me?” he teased, laughing once he sees the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“That’s not the point. I’m telling you, I have a good feeling about tomorrow. But still, no pressure. You go out there, drive safe and come back to me in one piece. If you end up winning, that’s great, but if you don’t, we’ll get them next year. Sounds good?” you bargained, knowing that he didn’t need any more pressure added on his shoulders than he already had.

He sighed but nodded, pausing his actions to give you a kiss.

“Let’s do it then”

And, true to his word, he came back to you, in one piece, starting from pole in the Monaco GP.

♡♡♡♡♡

There was something special in the air as you entered the paddock with Pascale and Arthur, making your way towards the Ferrari hospitality to watch the race. The entire city of Monte Carlo was absolutely buzzing with excitement, the paddock feeling more alive than ever as their home hero prepared to take on the beautiful circuit that was Monaco.

You didn’t see Charles before he got into the car, you didn’t want to cause him any kind of distraction before he started the race, but you couldn’t help sprinting down to the garage during the Red Flag, knowing you had plenty of time before the race would start up again.

Finding him wasn’t hard at all. He was speaking with his mechanics, drinking some water out of his bottle.

You approached him hurriedly, at which he excused himself from the conversation once he saw you approaching him.

“Mon amour, is everything okay? You’re supposed to be with maman, Arthur and Joris up in the hospitality” he said, worry etched on his face.

“Everything is fine, don’t worry. I just came down here to wish you good luck, you know, once FIA decides to restart the race” you joked, hoping to make his spirits lift up a little.

He chuckled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. You could see the stress sitting behind the facade, the worry and pressure tensing up his muscles and demeanor.

Noticing you studying his face and realizing you knew how stressed he was, he smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“You know we’re proud of you no matter what, right?” you whispered, thankful for the loud sounds of mechanics working left and right that helped drown out your conversation to other people around you.

He sighed, but nodded. “I know, but I just can’t shake the stress. I’ve been quick all weekend and everyone knows that. What if something happens and my race goes to shit like every time? I don’t think I’ll be ready to cope with another disappointment from my home track” he confessed, which made your heart squeeze.

His entire life, the only thing that he wanted was to win in Monaco, but the track has always failed him. And for once, he felt like he could finally break the curse that has been following him around for years, yet he still worried that something would completely ruin his race.

“Baby, nobody will think less of you if you don’t win today. Racing is so unpredictable, you put your life in danger every time you get in the car and people know that. We’ll be proud of you no matter the outcome today” you said, holding his face in your hands to make sure he understood you.

He bit the inside of his cheek but nodded, knowing you were right. 

“I love you” he murmured, pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.

“I love you too. Be safe out there and show everyone what you’re made of” you said once you pulled away, smiling and pecking his lips once again before leaving him to it.

You made your way back to the hospitality where Charles’ family was waiting for you.

“How is he?” Pascale asked you as you sat down next to her.

“He’s stressed, but he’s doing okay. He really wants to win today” you explained, running a hand through your hair.

Pascale nodded, knowing how important this day was for her son.

“He’ll win, I can feel it” Pascale said, taking your hand in hers.

♡♡♡♡♡

Some people would say that you bewitched your fiancé, some would say that a divine force had finally taken pity upon him, but only one thing was for certain.

Charles Leclerc had finally won his home race, the Monaco Grand Prix.

From the moment he had crossed the finish line and taken the checkered flag, everything that happened was a blur. Between hugging his family, texting your friends, crying because of how proud you were of him, things were a big blur. 

Hearing him screaming on the radio had been what had made you break down. He had spent so many hours training, figuring out strategies, doing everything in his power to make sure that things would go well for him around his home streets and his hard work had finally paid off.

You couldn’t hold in the excitement that you felt, the pride you held for the man you loved more than life itself. Which frankly explains why you hurried out of the Ferrari hospitality and ran to the grid where the Ferrari mechanics were waiting for Charles.

The moment you saw him get out of the car and throw himself at his team, the cascade of tears began once again, blurring your vision which now only consisted of the red teamwear all around you.

“Y/N!” you were snapped out of your thoughts by Charles’ voice, who had noticed you crying as soon as he hugged his team.

The Ferrari mechanics quickly made way for you, letting you jump into Charles’ arms and wrapping your legs around his waist as he hugged you tightly to his body.

“I did it, Y/N. I finally did it” he cried into your shoulder, which made you let out more tears and squeeze him even tighter than you already were.

“I told you, I knew you were going to do it. My Monaco winner” you pulled away slightly to kiss him, taking his face in your hands.

The entire team cheered around you, paparazzi taking pictures upon pictures of the moment shared between you.

“I love you so fucking much” you whispered against his lips, making him grin widely.

“I love you too”

And with that, the Monaco curse has finally been broken, once and for all.

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