Tumgik
#but every child should be allowed to say damn
snoweylily · 1 month
Text
petition to change "adult language" to words such as "mortgage" and "economy" and "overdraft"
1 note · View note
definitelynotnia · 3 months
Text
im sorry i have to rant im so fucking pissed
my exams end on 19th and I have to get rid of some books and buy some books which are quite pricy online so I had planned on going to college street on 20th and selling my books and buying the new ones at a cheap price and i was frankly really excited about it because all I get is a one day break to relax bcz i have to start studying for entrances from 21st so all I have is 20th and i wanted to spend it at college street and then get some food and basically have like a solo date kind of thing.
and i was so so excited about it i told my boyfriend about it like 500 times bcz i kept forgetting i've already mentioned it and it was literally on my mind a lott so i kept bringing it up and ik it seems like not a big deal cz i can just sit at home and chill too but i literally do not get to go outside my house. like- the last time i went out was new years eve and after that the only time i've gone out is to school or to give my boards that is it. my mother has some weird like problem wiht me going out like even if i tell her that i just want to go to our terrace for 5 minutes just to get some fresh air she won't even allow that she'll be all suspicious and like sTaNd In ThE bAlCOnY aNd TaKe FrEsH aIr like she herself doesnt leave the house (and blames it on me and my brother ???? when have we ever stopped you bro, she said I HaVe To Be HeRe To KeEp An EyE like im 18 i dont need to be watched 24/7 stop blaming me for choices you put upon yourself) and i just feel so suffocated ALL THE TIME i feel so overstimulated and im so sick of rotting on my bed and i dont want to wait for some birthday party or friends meet up to be able to leave my goddamn house i just wanted to go and have a fun day and get me some books thats it.
anyway so initially the plan was that my mom would go along but something came up so she wanted to postpone it to 21st and i didn't want to bcz i'd already be missing 3 days bcz of my boyfriends birthday, holi and my brothers birthday (all of which are important and i dont want to miss which makes me the villain apparently bcz i should "adjust" and cancel my "parties" instead of trying to stick to my plan bcz that makes me too demanding and selfish apparently) so i suggested that ukw why dont u go do ur thing which came up and i'll go to college street by myself...which is when the solo date idea came which i had really wanted all along but didnt bring up bcz i knew she'd say no but now there's a valid reason for me to go alone so like, its a pretty easy fix i can just go alone but noooo. First of all,
I've been to college street multiple times before so its not like its an unknown area to me
im going by metro which is quite safe
im going when there is stark daylight and i will return home much much before it gets dark and im literally 18
she never lets me go anywhere alone, not even take ubers alone if i want to get back from somewhere my bf has to come drop me everytime and then go backwards to his house which is so so so stupid and i never get to go out alone unless accompanied by family or by a male friend, so obv when i said i'll go to college street alone she refused to let that happen and started screaming about how 'if its so important to go on 20th bcz u dont want to miss a day of studying then cancel ur 'parties' and study then' and i was like no its not about missing a day its just that there's a very easy and logical fix to this problem which is i go alone and its not inconveniencing anyone so why cant i just do that but she will not listen to that bcz im 'adamant' and 'everything has to be according to me' bcz i found a viable solution to the problem. so instead of letting me just go she was literally ready to pay much more money and buy the books online, like.....why cant i just go bro??? (and she keeps telling me im a waste of her money bcz i will amount to nothing in life and my education was a failed investment or wtv so like now why are u wasting more money??? im literally trying to save the money that u 'waste' on me so just let me ???)
anyway i called my dad last night and told him and he was super ok with the idea he said its a good idea that i go alone and that he would speak to her but then today when i asked her if dad spoke to her she said yes, we'll go on 20th and i was like .....we? so apparently she CANCELLED her previously immovable thing for which she wanted me to cancel my 'parties', she cancelled that and agreed to go with me on 20th just so that i dont get to go alone- like ???????????????? what is ur problemmmm
so obv i was super annoyed and i went on a whole ass rant about how i literally struggle to even cross roads bcz i dont know shit about basic travelling bcz all my life ive been in a car and its a running joke with all my guy friends that i 'cannot navigate' and 'dont know any places' and obv??? if im never allowed to go anywhere then how tf will i know the places- the only places i know is bcz recently i've been paying a lot of attention and asking my dad stuff about what roads to take to reach certain places and when i go out with my friends i kind of try and learn a bit but thats it i've only ever gone alone completely alone to two places which is my beauty parlour thats 5 minutes away from my house and one bazaar one time that was 2 bus stops away, thats it. thats my extent of public travelling alone. and now im supposed to go to a whole new STATE for college and i cant even call myself an auto without struggling. and like- is this not a basic life skill??? like ok yeah its not rocket science and i will probably figure it out even if i start later in life but why not now? most of my guy friends literally go everywhere alone, why not me? and my dad agreed with all of this but my mom was just like "you'll be in the hostel only, no need to go out of the campus" like ARE YOU FOR REAL????????? and she's like "if u want to learn skills learn how to cook" like ok yes i will also learn how to cook for sure but i wont have a fucking kitchen in the hostel but somehow cooking is an urgent skill i should learn but going places by myself is unimportant bcz i should just never? leave? the? hostel?
anyway after much screaming and shouting my dad gave up and just cut the call bcz he doesnt want to get into an argument with my mother and my mother was being all suspicious like why do u hAvE tO gO aLoNe AlL oF a SuDdEn even though i literally explained why i want to do this alone but she doesnt think thats valid. so she refuses to let me go and i asked her for one reason why i shouldnt cz usuallt its always "no u have exam what if smthn happens" but now i literally dont even have exam so whats ur excuse now? streets will always be unsafe forever so "what if smthn happens" is not a reason to never let me go out without a man so just gimme one reason and she couldnt give me a single reason she just said "i said no, thats it".
and now she's gone off about how im useless and blah blah and "high maintainance" bcz i want books and "everyone else (some pishi's son) just studies online" and so the whole option of college street is apparently now cancelled and she's trying to set up a whole ass kindle account (half the books i need arent even available as ebooks) just because i wanted to go by myself.
#in our house kids dont stay outside past 6:30pm'' but now all of a sudden its fine for my brother to play#till 10:30 at night#she literally stopped me permanently from going down in the evenings since i was in class 7-8#this is why ive never had any friends outside of school bcz she wouldnt let me leave ths fucking house#and now that my brother is in class 7#he's allowed to be out playing with his friends till 10 freaking 30#he comes home an hour late sometimes...45 minutes and almost always at least 30 minutes late at NIGHT and she says nothing except like#one sentence#yeah im only the villain i only keep u locke#up in the house its all my fault#this is just so damn unfair#like literally insulting#im not a child what is her problem#what sort of fucking solution is 'never leave the hostel' like ok even if i do that what happens then??? after i graduate?#i'll be a 24 year old who doesnt know shit about going from one place to another without a man present]#and then this woman preaches how she 'always raises her son and daughter equally' like srsly shut the fuck up#my whole life i've been told abar late?''#and for me bcz i would come home 5-10 minutes late nd i did it maybe once or twice she made me completely stop going down to play#5-10 minutes late from 6:30 wherein he comes an hour late from 9 fucking 30#and this sounds so stupid bcz im an 18 year old now and i dont give a fuck abt how long i got to play but its just unfair dude#with me it was always smthn or the other either exams or she gets miraculously sick every time i want to go out to play#im not even kidding she did a whole “i have fever and ur going to leave me like this and go play?” on me one time bcz i was adamant abt goi#after months of not being able to go bcz of exam or smthn or the other#she did not have any fever it was fucking bullshit#and how am i supposed to help with ur imaginary fever anyway im literally 12#its so fucking annoying man and then if i say anything at all she'll go on a tirade about how#like YOU DO THOUGH??????? im sorry ur feelings are hurt bcz i said you do smthn that u LITERALLY DO#istg not even 2 days ago she was having a fight with my dad abt how he should teach my brother to learn how to cycle so that he can go buy#groceries#i can cycle
17 notes · View notes
freebooter4ever · 1 year
Text
The tech guys are hanging out in my office again and chatting about $10,000 week long vacations like this is normal.
#Journal shit#Ah yes the life i gave up to be a grunt 3D generalist working on the lowest of the low entertainment \o/#A lot of my friends here get mad at my dad for not being supportive#And i myself get frustrated at him for being insulting about my general life failure#But like....he has a point#I dont think he needed to treat me like yesterdays trash over it but#He was right i probably should have taken a programming job#But poor dad he got saddled with a child who is stubborn and tragically not financially motivated like at all#I mean he is the exact same damn way i feel like my dad forgets that it was just me and him for four years there#I saw how he lived without certain influences and he did not give a crap about status or money or fancy things#It wasnt until the rich bitch came along and started making him like...update his furniture every few years because *style*#and making him buy new designer coats every year so he doesn't embarrass himself in front of the other volleyball parents#Im just saying prior to the introduction of Steves Wife to our family these things just didnt exist to us#It does greatly entertain me that Steves Wife is not allowed to come to the ohio farm because everybody agreed that she just...#Could Not Handle The Poor#Anyway thats my dads idea of a vacation going to visit grandma on the farm this summer#And two guesses he and grandma will just sit around reading and doing puzzles and watching tennis#Pretty much exactly what i did when i went on vacation to visit her#I want to ask my dad if you think i am a failure what do you think of yourself i am exactly fucking like you for better or worse#Well i mean except i also did a lot of drawing of hockey players and grandma would lean over my shoulder#Saying things like *he looks like a nice young man*#yes grandma and he also racks up the penalty minutes like you wouldnt believe
10 notes · View notes
dumplingsjinson · 7 months
Text
List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 3)
“Truth be told? I miss the times — the me — before I fell in love with you.” 
“You know, I can see myself in, on top of, or under you. What do you say?” “I can see you buried six feet under my very feet if you don’t stop joking about this shit with me.” 
“Was there a point when you fell out of love with me?” “There was a point when I fell in love with you, but never out.”
“When did you fall out of love with me?” “That’s the thing: I never fell out of love with you. You’re the one who fell out of love with me.”
“Right person, wrong time… What if this is the right time? We’re just the wrong people for each other.”
“You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.” 
“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.” 
“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed.” 
“Don’t give me that look.”
“You okay?” “No. I need hugs. From you. I need you to hug me.” 
“I just wanna fucking get over you so I can be okay again.” 
“Stop trying to remind me that you’re still in my life. I’m trying to not think about you, for God’s sake.”
“I wanna kiss you so badly right now but we’re in public and I know you hate public display of affection—“ “I’ll allow you to do it this time.” “Wait… Really?” 
“I make shitty decisions and you’re a testament to that matter.”
“I have things to do, and most of them include me trying not to think about you.”
“I’ve never cried because of someone, you know? I didn’t have anyone to cry over. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so God help me through this embarrassment.” 
“Breaking up with me does not mean you had to kick me off your Spotify playlist, you know? Because damn. As much as I’m upset, your list had some bangers.” 
“You don’t get to do decide my feelings for you.” 
“I’m not bitchless, you fucking dickhead. Take that back!” 
“Every little thing reminds me of you, which sucks because you’re not in my life anymore.”
“It’s kinda weird not seeing your name on my phone when I wake up. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to this.”
“I think I knew this wasn’t going to last when I realised it’s not that I trust you. It’s that I don’t care what you do, and who you might be fucking around with.”
“One text from you has me happier than a child whose mother bought them their favourite candy. It’s not okay.” 
“I don’t share my Spotify playlist with just anyone. It’s like a secret love language of mine, reserved for those I want to let in. You’re one of them, yet you’re here thinking I don’t feel the same way about you?”
“I dunno, I just… Kinda fell for you.”
“You’re the reason why I fell in love with you. You, as a whole.” 
“There are some songs that I can’t listen to anymore, because they remind me of you; of all the times we’ve had together. And it sucks because some of them are great songs. And you fucking ruined them, you asshole.”
“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.” 
“One thing you should know about me is that I suck at letting go.”
“So you’re telling me I’m supposed to sit here and give a fuck? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. I have places to be and things to do.” 
“You need to stop being such a dramatic bitch.” “It’s the only way I can entertain myself, okay? Now piss off and leave me be.” 
“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“You deserve someone better than me—” “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“You ever think about how good we could have been together?” “Yeah. I think about it all the time, and then I remember how badly you fumbled. So yeah, good job.”
“You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” “…Then I guess I’ll have to give you something to blush over.”
“I lost myself while trying to find the good in you.”
“I think it’s comforting that they’re somewhere out there… Even if we never speak again, you know? They were a part of my life, even if it was only for a little while. They made me feel good, even if it was only for a short amount of time.” 
“Remember when you said you’d catch me when I fell? Well, you’re a fucking liar. Figuratively and literally. Now I’m hospitalised and also emotionally scarred. I hope you’re fucking happy about that.” 
“If we break up, I’d look for you in other people and be reminded that they are not you, and that I’d never find someone like you again. And… I don’t think I can bear the thought of that.”
“I give you permission to break my heart.” “And I give you permission to end me if I ever do break your heart.” 
“I have things to do—“ “And I’m one of them.”
“You’re only saying sorry because you want to make yourself feel better, so you can go shove that sweet apology up your ass because it doesn’t mean shit. I hope you continue to feel like shit over what you did, because I’m never forgiving you.”
“I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”
“You? Breaking my heart? It’s funny how you think you even have that power over me.”
“You were like a routine that I loved and it felt… comfortable. But I guess that’s not the case anymore.” 
“You fell in love with the idea of someone that wasn’t even real. You fell in love with your own projections. How are you so foolish to think that it would have worked out?”
“I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.” “Everything about this interaction is telling me you’re not fine — not even close.”
“The idea of us was perfect. Blame me for thinking it would turn out into something good and as fantastical as what I made it out to be in my head.”
“Because no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s about to drive me to the very brink of insanity, so if you’ll excuse me for not wanting to be near you, that would great.”
“I would not be who I am today if not for you.” 
(pt 1.) | (pt. 2)
1K notes · View notes
suiana · 5 months
Note
Would love more Yandere prison Warden! He is such a silly guy fr fr !!!!!!
Tumblr media
(yandere! prison warden x gn! inmate reader) (kinda nsfw, talking about ass and boobs)
there's two things that always annoys you with this man.
his ass.
like why is it so big? why is it so voluptuous? and why the hell does he of all people have it?
he has no right to have such a sexy ass. he's a crazy, delusional, and annoying man-baby. he shouldn't be allowed to have a plump, round, and voluptuous ass that jiggles if you slap it.
his tits are annoying too.
why on earth are they so big? why are they so squishy? why the hell does it feel so good to sleep on them?
it literally makes zero sense for him to have not only a sexy ass, but also the sexiest boobs ever. like yeah, he trains and goes to the gym and stuff but he shouldn't have such a sexy body! not when he's just a loser that desperately wants your love and attention!
he should be in jail for how his good his ass and tits look. they're absolutely distracting and it annoys you to an incredible extent. especially because it makes you look like a big old pervert with how your eyes are always staring straight at his tits and ass.
it also doesn't help that the prison warden uniform is tight.
"oi, can you change your outfit?"
you grunt to your personal prison warden, looking up at him as you squat on the ground. he turns around, humming at you before grinning slightly.
"babe! this is the first time you've talked to me first! and all willingly too?! you sound a little annoyed though-"
"quit rambling ugh. just... just wanted to tell you that your uniform is too tight. how do you even work in it huh? when all of that is exposed?"
you feel your cheeks heat up with each and every word. shit, why was this so embarrassing to say? you used to flirt shamelessly with others! so why on earth does saying this make your heart race like a child with a first crush?! you're not even saying anything bad! just pointing out how his assets are on display for the whole world to see!
"huh? exposed? what do you mean? did my pants tear?"
he questions you, feeling around his pants with a slight frown. you chew on your bottom lip at this, feeling your annoyance and embarrassment soar through the roof. god damn it, you don't know whether he's dumb or just likes to tease you. is he seriously not aware that he has a fat dumpy?!
"god do you seriously not know?! your ass! it's so big! and your tits too! ugh!"
you mumble flusteredly, cheeks a furious red as you cough slightly. damn, he was not going to let you live this down. you should've just kept quiet about this little observation you made-
"my... ass? and tits?"
he pauses for a second before his grin widens.
"baby you've been staring at me, huh? aw that's so sweet!"
he gushes happily, cheeks pink as he grips the bars to your prison cell tightly. his joyous giggles fill the room as he starts rambling about how you're going to fall for him next and agree to run away with him.
you shake your head in response, feeling your embarrassment fie down as regret and embarrassment settles in. dang, you knew this would feed his delusions. you really would have been better off keeping your observations a secret.
811 notes · View notes
coryosbaby · 12 days
Text
Tumblr media
18+, MDNI !!
Family friend! Billy The Kid teaching you how to kiss and it leading to much more <3 pulling him into your pretty pink room, pushing him onto the frilly sheets in the dark hours of the night. It’s a sleepless one— you and Billy had been up all night and your parents are sleeping soundly in their beds, clueless to their daughter’s secret pact with their beloved acquaintance.
You make sure to lock your door just in case.
The cowboy in front of you sprawls out on your mattress, foot grazing your ankle as you tell him a story about your friend Camille’s adultery.
“And she… she slipped her tongue in his mouth!” You exclaim, wide eyed and innocent. Billy mouth quirks up into a smile, his eyes moving to your pretty, plump lips. “I don’t know if I’d like that, Billy, not one bit.”
“How’dya know if you haven’t tried it?”
“I…” you blanch for a moment. “I dunno. I guess I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t do that anyway. ‘S bad.”
He gives you an amused smile. Your parents, of course, have spewed this narrative to you since you were a child. “No sex before marriage, no datin’ or kissin’ or huggin’” — Billy’s always been on his own, making his own decisions, and he thinks you should be able to do that too. He can’t deny the way your innocence gets his cock hard and bulging through his pants, though, and how badly he wants to corrupt every single part of you. Parents be damned, you’re one of a kind. Sweet and gentle, soft in all the right places, homely. Billy loves that about you. He’d marry you if he could, but even so, your parents would never allow it. They’d know right from the start what he was up to if he asked for their blessing.
His hand makes its way to your knee. He rests it there and massages the soft skin that’s exposed due to your nightgown riding up. You can’t help the flush that makes its way up to your cheeks.
“We could try it,” he suggests gently. “If you want to, darlin’.”
Your eyes widen as you look at him, and your fingers move up to the ribbon in your hair and twirl it around.
“I dunno, Billy..”
“‘M not gonna force you,” he replies. “Just a suggestion, that’s all.”
It’s silent for a moment, Billy awkwardly looking away. What if he fucked up? What if you told your parents?
“Okay.”
It surprises him when you say it so timidly.
“Alright,” Billy replies, then clears his throat and pats his thigh. “C’mere, sweetheart. Get in my lap.”
A smile spreads across your face, and you shyly crawl over to him on all fours before you press yourself down into his lap. Your thighs move to either side of his hips.
“Like this?”
“Just like that.”
Billy has to restrain himself as he sees your light blue cotton underwear peek out from underneath your nightgown. His hand splays across your lower back, pulling you closer. His other hand moves to your cheek.
You close your eyes, waiting for the moment when Billy leans in. His lips hit yours in a small peck, thumb grazing your jaw. You reciprocate as best as you can, and your lashes flutter open when he pulls away, your brows furrowing.
“That’s it?”
Billy can’t help the laugh that spills out of his mouth, loud enough that your hand slaps over his mouth.
“It ain’t funny!” You whine. “Be quiet, you’re gonna get us in trouble!”
He pulls your hand off of his mouth, a grin splaying across his face.
“Sorry.”
When it quiets once again, you lean into him.
“Can we do it again?”
He nods. Both of his hands wrap around your waist this time, and he presses his now smiling lips to yours again. This time it’s more desperate— Billy got one taste and now he can’t bring himself to stop. You let out a tiny whine, pulling away when you feel his tongue press against your lower lip.
“Billy, we can’t do that.”
“Says who?” He leans up against your ear, hands travelling lower, lower. He’s hungry for you, practically starving. “I won’t tell.”
The way he says it, raspy and deep, sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t help the way your thighs clench together, a moan leaving you when the hem of your nightgown is flipped up and Billy grips your ass in his palms. His mouth slots against yours again, leaving your head spinning as you allow his tongue to slip into the warm canal of your mouth. Your own tongue slides against his, the strangely pleasant taste of his saliva making you dizzy. A throbbing overtakes that special spot between your legs, and you grind down against Billy’s fabric clad thigh. He groans, wrapping a hand around your hair so he can pull off of your lips and move to your neck instead.
“Billy,” you whimper out, when you feel his fingers graze the inside of your thigh. “Billy, I feel all tingly.”
“It’s because you need me,” his fingers reach the crotch of your underwear, and his thumb presses against your clit through the fabric. You gasp, mouth falling open as he rubs it in slow circles. “See, sweetheart? Right here.”
“I-It.. it feels…”
“Good?” Of course it does, you’re practically soaked through your panties. “I know. You can make me feel good, too.”
“I can?” Your eyes brighten, and he nods, removing his fingers so he can begin to unbutton his pants instead.
“Mhm. You got me all tingly here, too.”
You look down as he pulls out his hard cock, dripping with arousal and ready for you. A dark thatch of hair sits at the base of him, a vein running up the middle and leading to a pretty pink tip. He gives it a few harsh strokes, pumping it up and down in his fist.
“Lay on your back for me, honey.”
You obey instantly, excitement curling in your gut as your head hits your pillow. Billy hooks his fingers into your panties and drags them down your legs. You blush when he pushes your legs apart, and the boy in front of you curses under his breath when he catches sight of your cunt all swollen and needy.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs. “Such a sweet little thing….”
He slides his cock between your folds, and you let out a tiny cry. It feels so different from before, so much better, if possible. You look down to see his cock’s aroused head moving in and out between your cunt lips, your thighs becoming slick with your arousal.
“That’s it..” Billy breathes, and he looks almost angry as he uses your slippery cunt. “Good girl, all wet ‘n warm for me.“
You moan at the sight of his muscled arms on either side of your hips as he touches you, your fingernails scraping against his shoulders. Billy leans down to give you another kiss. You return it, your teeth nipping his lower lip. It’s hard to think straight with the way he’s rubbing up against you so prettily.
He grinds against your cunny, using it like a soft pillow for his length, his breath heavy as he watches your little clit swell with arousal. He looks down at your hole, teeny tiny against his big, fat cock, and wants to stretch it so bad that it almost hurts.
But that’ll have to wait— right now, he needs to get you nice and ready, used to these new feelings and sensations. To help you become comfortable.
After a moment, sweat collecting on his brow, Billy pulls away from your lips and moves close to your ear.
“How’s it feel, darlin’?”
“I love it,” you reply to him, almost instantly. “You’re— you’re so handsome. You’re making me feel so..”
You trail off with a whine when his tip accidentally catches on your needy hole. He groans, letting out a string of swears. You clench around nothing, your instincts kicking in as your brain becoming fuzzy and empty.
“I need it— need it there, Billy. I want it inside.”
“Not there, baby. Not yet.”
You want to cry at his words, but not before an unknown feeling is building up in your core. The friction applied to your clit and the thought of Billy sinking into your gummy walls has you biting back a sob. He notices your changed expression, watches the way your legs suddenly tighten up and clamp down around his hips.
“Nghhh.. why does it feel like that?” Your eyes clench shut, confusion and desperation taking over you. “S-Somethin’s happenin’, Billy…”
He smiles, gripping his length in his hand so he can press it harder onto your clit, sliding against it and watching his cock become coated in your juices.
“Let it happen. It’s a good thing, baby— gonna feel so good.”
Your orgasm overtakes you faster than lightening. You arch your back as wave after wave of pleasure takes over you, colors flashing behind to eyelids. It’s the greatest you’ve ever felt, the greatest you ever thought you could feel, and Billy follows soon after with a moan against your neck. His warm cum squirts out onto your mound, glazing it in sticky white, and he desperately slides against your slit until you’ve milked him completely dry. You look down at the mess you’ve both made, his spend dripping onto the sheets. With his face against your breast, Billy chuckles.
“I bet Camilla’s gonna hear a hell of a story tomorrow, isn’t she?”
Tumblr media
:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz
379 notes · View notes
ghost-bxrd · 5 months
Note
okay so this is an idea I’ve seen brought up maybe once before, but maybe Jason (before the Bats find out who he is) accidentally lets something slip that makes them realize that he’s literally, like, a child (seventeen, sixteen, I’m not sure how old he is at that point exactly, but either works)
and Bruce “adoption addiction” Wayne promptly looks at this obviously traumatized teenager and decides that he should adopt Red Hood.
I just think Jason would be so confused (maybe a little pissed too)
I’ve touched on that a little bit in What you’re longing for (you claim to abhor)!
I think this trope is wayyy underrated. Like, Jason is still so, so young. Basically a child. Even if he died at sixteen and then spent two years with the league (even if we’re counting the time he spent dead as aging). He’s barely even legal when he returns to Gotham. Or if we’re being generous let’s say he’s nineteen.
Doesn’t matter, he’s barely out of his teens (maybe he’s still IN his teens if you bend the timeline of your fic a little) and he’s experienced horrors that would have most people become utterly unable to function. But Jason? That boy takes his trauma and channels it into anger. Which, not exactly healthy, but well.
Anyway, getting off topic:
YES. Jason is still basically a kid when he debuts as the Red Hood, and you know what else he is? A good boy who’s not gonna touch any alcohol until he’s officially 21.
“But why would he do that? He grew up in Crime Alley! Ain’t nobody got time for age limitations!”
Hear me out! Let’s assume he grew up in a household where his father, Willis Todd, drank quite a lot on the regular in addition to his mom’s addiction. Jason experienced the aftermath of this (perhaps domestic violence?) every time his dad returned from a job/jail and he grew to loathe any and all substances, including alcohol. Knowing Jason and his convictions it wouldn’t be too far fetched to assume he’d never touch a single drop of alcohol at all.
So that’s one way he could slip up while taking to his goons (and having the bats overhear) or even straight up talking to one of them where maybe Dick banters a bit and goes “Hey, perhaps you should chill out a bit. Have a drink maybe” and Jason just instinctively goes “Fuck you Dickwing, I’m seventeen/eighteen/nineteen! I’m not allowed to drink!”
And Dick just— bluescreens. And immediately goes to tell Bruce, obviously.
OR
The Bats assume Jason is this old guy (Bruce’s or Drathstroke’s age maybe) and consequently they keep alluding to things that happened way before Jason was ever even born and at first he’s so? Confused??? But eventually it just gets really annoying and eventually he just— snaps.
“How the fuck would I know which Nokia gen hit the market that year? I was born in fuckin’ XXXX, I’m an iPhone kid!”
“Stop referencing the Cold War dipshit, I’m fucking seventeen! I’m glad I remember my own damn birthday!”
“I don’t know, I was like— two back then.”
Bruce, obviously, would take .1 seconds to realize:
“Omg. That’s- that’s a whole child. That’s a whole damn TRAUMATIZED child, killing people and sawing off heads. Omg someone must have hurt him so bad. Don’t worry tho, son, Batman’s got you. You won’t have to hurt anybody ever again. We’re here for you. Would you like the room next to Tim’s or Dick’s?”
Meanwhile Jason: “what the fuck”
1K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 4 months
Text
A Man With a Plan (prologue)
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
A/N: Hello! I've been stuck in my head about the idea of a whimsical reader (think Luna Lovegood) after reading the many sweet writings of other writers on Tumblr (specifically @ moonstruckme)! I totally ship a character like this with Remus because I feel like Remus has a tendency to overthink and get stuck in his own head and a character like this would be a breath of fresh air for him and balance him really well. Please note: whimsical does not = stupid! Rather, quite smart but people find her odd and reduce this to lack of intelligence. This is my little prologue, a sort of soulmate-esque AU - what do we think? Do we like this idea? Would we read it???
CW: swearing (cuz it's Remus 'Werewolf McSwearWolf' Lupin's POV, duh)
Tumblr media
If there was one thing people ought to know about Remus John Lupin, it was that Remus was a planner. At any given point, it would be safe to assume that Remus had a plan.
As would be typical of Remus Lupin’s luck, however, most of his plans got fucked to shit.
Example A:
As a child, Remus planned to grow up to be a wizard like his da, or a nurse like his mum. That plan was fucked to bits just before his 5th birthday when Fenrir Greyback damned him to a life of lycanthropy and a side serving of prejudice. 
Example B:
Remus Lupin planned to never be accepted to Hogwarts on account of his previously stated damnation. That plan also went sideways when an owl dropped a letter into his porridge on the morning of his 11th birthday, containing an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Remus’ da told Remus it was likely a mistake and they would rescind the offer once they learnt of his lycanthropy. Once again, plans were nullified when headmaster Dumbledore himself showed up on the doorstep of the Lupin Cottage after not receiving a response from them.
Example C:
Once he confirmed his acceptance to Hogwarts, Remus Lupin planned to be completely invisible throughout his time at school. This meant: no embarrassing himself, no bringing attention to himself, and absolutely, under no circumstances, would he make friends.
Of course, as should have been expected, this plan was fucked upside down and backwards seven ways to Sunday when the likes of James Fleamont Potter and Sirius Orion Black set their sights upon him.
Though Remus Lupin did have a plan, he was still just a boy. He’d been homeschooled his entire life due to being unable to explain his absences to muggle teachers as well as his scars/injuries from every full moon, and the village kids were quite fearful of the scarred boy. All this to say; he’d never had friends before.
So, sue him for relishing in the interest these boys seemed to have in him.
No matter: Remus could handle this. “How?” You may be wondering. By a plan, of course! 
Remus Lupin would allow these two (and Peter who went about befriending the boy in a much gentler way, so let’s make it three) friends, and planned to ensure that they never learned of his lycanthropy. He’d only just made friends; he wasn’t about to lose them. 
Of course, Sirius being the nosey fucker he is, James being the doting mother hen he is, and Peter being far too perceptive for anyone’s good – that plan was fucked to shit as well.
Remus, then, planned then to never let anyone else ever learn his secret again.
That plan was once again fucked by none other than Sirius Black and his unfortunate ‘prank’ on Severus Snape that could have cost Remus and Severus both of their lives, or at the very least, their lives as they knew it.
Remus Lupin then planned to never forgive Sirius Black for that horrible, thoughtless prank. 
Remus was admittedly not all that sad to say that this particular plan was shot too, though he ensured Sirius suffered at least a little during the process of his forgiveness. 
So, as he sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall in September of his 7th year listening to his friend’s wax poetic about their different love interests or conquests that they had made over the summer (i.e., James’ love for Lily, Sirius’ many hook-ups, and Peter’s enthusiastic support of them both), Remus made yet another plan.
Remus John Lupin planned to never, ever, fall in love. 
Moony, it would seem, had other plans. 
Tumblr media
Continue to the first chapter here.
527 notes · View notes
thebadboyfanclub · 11 months
Text
Welcome To Our Family (Daemon x Reader)
Tumblr media
Hey everyone, so as I mentioned before I wanted to write a throuple thing with Rhaenyra and Daemon although even on this request there was some drama involved but it was interesting to write nonetheless. Also I don’t know why but this song inspired me the most especially the part “where you go I go, what you see I see” that was the vibe I was trying to pass for our reader with daemon
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Most would say that the war in the stepstones had no place for love to blossom, the reeking stench of death had overtaken and most men had no life in their eyes, the majority prayed in gratitude that they were alive while others cursed the gods for keeping them on this forsaken realm when their friend of even their kin had been killed.
That did not even grace Daemon, who was lucky enough to spend every night in the arms of his beloved (y/n), the sister of one of his soldiers that had been wounded, (y/n) had marched in and demanded that her brother will come home.
“I will be damned if I allow you to give more than an arm for this, you are coming with me”
Her brother had obeyed her, she was as fragile as a rose but her thorns stung more than anything, right then and then Daemon had become a mere slave to his emotions, something that had never occurred before.
“I wish I could stay in your arms forever”
“That would be a dream, my love, however, we are counting the days until you depart, your wife probably awaits you”
Daemon was deeply offended by the jab his lover had thrown at him, slowly he rose up and away from her arm reach to look her straight in the eyes, the fireplace burned bright and the light shined against her glistening skin.
“You are questioning my feelings for you”
“I am questioning how strong they are, you are a prince, a husband, your life seems to hold no room for me”
“Is that how you think of this? That I just wanted to bed you?”
“Do you truly wish for me to answer that?”
Silence took over them while the only sound came from the crackles of the fire, Daemon was aware of how badly this could look, she was a commoner, a mere lady, and the realm would never accept her even if Daemon had not wed another.
“You and our daughter mean everything to me”
“But nothing to the king, he will ask for my head once he finds out I am carrying your child”
“I would never put your lives at risk”
“How do you plan on keeping us safe my love?”
“Do not worry about that, I will take care of everything”
(Y/n)s belly was starting to show, it wouldn’t take long for the king and his little whisperers to demand answers, the easy route was to declare his kin a bastard but Daemon was flying on cloud nine when (y/n) announced that she was with child, no he must do right by her.
He flew with her to Pentos, far away from Viserys and people that cared most about titles and crowns than love and compassion.
“Twins, my prince, two sons, praise the mother”
“What about (y/n)”
“The lady is a warrior, she is tired but healthy”
Daemon did not speak another word to the maester, he simply passed by him and into the room to find his beloved laying in bed, a faint smile on her face as she held one of her children while the other was being held by a midwife.
“You owe me 3 dragon coins”
“It is a bet I will happily pay, how are you feeling?”
“Sore and gross but happy, why don’t you hold him?”
“I-“
“Come on love it is merely a babe, like… so”
Slowly (y/n) passed one of her sons to her lover, instructing him to hold it carefully but securely, then she reached for the midwife so she can have her other son in her arms, both of the babes were quiet in their parent's arms.
“What should we name them?”
“I was thinking of Orryn, and mayhaps… Baelon?”
“Baelon and Orryn, the two princes”
Daemon and (y/n) had grown inseparable much to his brother's dislike Daemon had scoffed at his previous marriage and took his place next to his most endearing (y/n) that had blessed him with not just two children, but with passion, and comfort, she created a home for him, without her there was no warmth, no color.
Viserys was only finding out the milestones his brother was achieving with his mistress via ravens that Daemon dared to send, the birth of his sons had scratched a wound in Viserys that was not quite healed yet, so naturally when Rhea had passed due to fever, Daemon had even dared to invite Viserys to his wedding that took place in Pentos.
(Y/n) had just given birth to another set of siblings, Alyssa and Arren, two silver-haired princesses that slept peacefully through the night and would only stay quiet if (y/n) or Daemon held them, (y/n)s parents and brother had traveled to Pentos to finally meet the children and also attend the wedding.
“You look dashing sweetling, I see the prince has taken good care of you”
“How could I not? What is more important than the happiness of my lady wife?”
“We must admit we had conflicting thoughts over you my prince, I am happy that you proved us wrong”
“I do not hold it against you, she is your daughter you want what is best for her, also you were not the only one, (y/n) was also very skeptical over my intentions”
“I had every reason to do so”
“I have made peace with the fact that you will never admit you were wrong my love, you do not have to find excuses for it”
Daemon and (y/n) were wed in Valyrian traditions, something that infuriated Viserys, how dare he wed a commoner with the sacred paths of old Valyria, it was distasteful and utterly disrespectful, Viserys had only sent a one-sentence raven scroll back
“You disgust me, never come back”
Daemon had only rolled his eyes at it and threw it in the fire, he couldn’t care less about Kings Landing, they could eat each other for all he cared, (y/n) and their children were all that mattered ever since he met with the beautiful hues of hers, he treasured everything about her and worshipped the ground she walked on, he would always hold her close and shower her with gifts.
“We received a raven, I have taken the liberty to open it”
“What is it?”
“Laenor Velaryon has passed, and your niece is requesting our presence, well yours to be specific, she said “I need you, uncle”
“You are jealous, I have never seen you get jealous”
“Is this the one you told me about, that “spur of the moment” girl?”
“Indeed, we do not have to go, besides, my brother banished me”
“No, it is the first time our presence is requested”
“My dear, you are with child and the flight is long”
“I will be fine, I know it”
Daemon was certain he could not sway her, once something was on her mind there was nothing that could turn it around, he was also aware that the reason she was so adamant was a side of hers that felt threatened, there was a ghost of his past that was requesting attention and (y/n) was not willing to walk away from this without putting up a fair fight.
At a day (y/n) and her 8 children stood next to her and her husband all dressed in black, everyone rubbed their eyes at the sight of such numerous children, (y/n) always knew she was meant to be a mother and that fact that she had Daemon as her husband made it so much easier.
Until it didn’t, they were summoned by the king after the ceremony, (y/n) felt her stomach drop as soon as she walked in the room, instinctively her one hand went over her growing belly, yet she mastered the strength to place a smile and curtsy before the king.
“What is the meaning of this brother?”
“I was hoping we could agree to some sort”
“Over what?”
“I wish for you to come back, I… will legitimize your children and wife as she has proven worthy, bringing forward 8 children with another on the way is no easy task”
“The gods have been generous to us that is correct, we are grateful for this offer but forgive me to ask, since you mentioned an agreement it seems you want something in return”
“Correct, there is no smooth way to say this but as a parent, I hope you understand that I would do anything to protect my daughter”
“No”
“Daemon”
“If you are asking us to wed Rhaenyra then you have lost your mind, I will not involve my wife and children in your scandals”
“Pardon my husband, I think you can understand the reason behind his outburst”
Daemon was left confused over (y/n)s composure that attempted to cover for his utter refusal to hide his brother's plans, he turned to observe his wife, she was calm, and her hand went to find his as their fingers intertwined (y/n) gave him a slight squeeze of comfort.
“The legitimacy of our children and our marriage is something that we are interested in, however, you can see why we might have some objections over accepting Rhaenyra in our marriage”
“You are trying to negotiate?”
“Yes”
“What else would you like to accept, please speak freely”
“I want my children to be given dragon eggs as well as meet any unclaimed dragons, they are Targaryens, they should have the pick of their dragons as well”
“Done”
“I shall also be considered Rhaenyras wife, if we were to wed I shall have the same rights as my husband”
“You are suggesting the realm accept you as the future queen's consort?”
“As you mentioned I brought forward 8 children and another on the way, the crown shall accept them as future princes and princesses, if not then there is nothing for us here”
Daemon chose to observe his lady wife than speak up, she took initiative and strived for the best option, something he admired in her but he had never really witnessed how far she was willing to go to secure the future of her family, now she was sacrificing a spot in their marriage for a seat at the table, Viserys had been outsmarted by what he used to frown upon.
“Very well, we accept your conditions”
“Well then… welcome to our family Princess Rhaenyra”
-
(Y/n) and Daemon wed Rhaenyra as they had once done while their children and the rest of their family watched, Rhaenyra had underestimated the lady, (y/n) and might not be as assertive or rebellious as Daemon but her wits and calculated movements showed a woman that walked with her head held high and every step was thought after.
The days turned to seasons and then years, everyone was holding their breaths as they took a front-row seat to one of the most important marriages and alliances within the Targaryen Dynasty.
(Y/n) was held in the best light by the small folk, “the realms mother”, and “the Alyssane reborn” as her fertility kept thriving, blessing Daemon with another set of twins soon after Rhaenyra was wed, the two beautiful baby girls were named Megaera and Valera, the first of their family to receive dragon eggs on their cradles a gift by Rhaenyra who picked them herself then came Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya, overall (y/n) had the castle of Dragonstone filled with children, 13 to be precise.
Rhaenyra was painfully aware of how those babies came to fruition, Daemon's thirst for his wife was evident and he did not even consider giving Rhaenyra the courtesy of hiding, Rhaenyra had lost count of the times she had walked in on (y/n), and Daemon lusting after one another at all hours of the day and any room that was close to them, she sometimes wondered if the legends of Rhaenys being the favorite wife of Aegon made Visenya go through what Rhaenyra was also experiencing, is that mayhaps the reason behind Rhaenyra identifying with the warrior queen?
As (y/n) and Daemon stood by Rhaenyra at court, defending her and consulting her on important matters, painting the picture of a happy marriage with two spouses that supported her revolutionary claim, the realm expected Rhaenyra to bare a child as well, (y/n) was producing heirs one after the other, Rhaenyras womb laid empty since Daemon did not spend not even one night in her chambers.
It was the first time in years that the three of them had stepped foot in kings landing, Vaemond had called the court to usurp Lucerys from his claim at the driftwood throne, naturally, all 13 of their children were present along with the three boys from Rhaenyras previous marriage, (y/n) insisted that it would show how United they are and having that strong of a number on their side would scare off any other accusations.
A solid plan, until Ser Vaemond decided to protest against the king affirming young Lucerys as the successor for the driftwood throne.
“You run your house as you see fit, but I would rather die than let that boy take over my family’s name, parading around because you are too blind to see the truth”
“You dare question the decision of a king?”
“Look at them, all thirteen of them hold the characteristics of old Valyrian, true born heirs that I would happily accept as mine even though they came from a womb of a commoner, and you ask me to accept these three boys as Velaryons? It is blasphemy”
“You are certainly bold Ser Vaemond, you have the nerve to call me a commoner when I hold the future queen and the brother of the king as my spouses, my children are not thirteen, but sixteen, and all of them hold their names with pride, it saddens my heart to see that the thirst for recognition has turned you to this low of antics”
“Her children are BASTARDS! and she. Is. A. Whore”
“Pity, you had such great potential”
As (y/n) finished her sentence Daemon had taken the liberty to end Ser Vaemonds life, a clean cut through his head right above his tongue with the great sword dark sister, causing most people to gasp while (y/n) smirked and watched the body fall on the well-polished floor.
“No one disrespects our family”
“Disarm him!”
“No need, my love”
Daemon stretched his hand to his beloved (y/n) who only turned to pinch Lucerys cheek before she took her husband's hand to walk away, only to halt and turn around again, looking back to the rest of her family members.
“Rhaenyra”
Rhaenyra was grateful for (y/n)s graciousness, there was nothing that she could hold against her, she was loving and caring to her three boys, she would listen to Rhaenyra about any concerns for hours and even now she defended and included her in front of everyone.
She should be satisfied with such, still a thorn stuck in her heart and pride making Rhaenyra feel second best when it came to Daemon's heart, it has always been (y/n), (y/n) carried his offspring’s, he gave up everything for her, took her away and gave her a life full of gifts and love, the finest of any kind was reserved for (y/n).
“Pardon my intrusion, the princess is requesting Prince Daemon in her chamber”
“It is late, can it not wait?”
“Sweetling, the poor girl cannot know, go to her, I will be waiting for you”
“Fine, take your nightgown off for me, I want us to get straight to it when I get back”
Daemon whispered deviously before he planted a passionate kiss on the lips he most adored, reluctantly pulled away with an audible gruff and followed the servant girl silently, wondering what was so important that he had to leave his precious bed and his lustful wife right in the heat of the moment.
Rhaenyra paced back and forth with impatience written all over her demeanor and face, Daemon always had an influence over her, making her feel like a little girl again, though this was a different type of anxiety, once Daemon entered the room and the servant gave them their privacy Rhaenyra took a deep inhale through the nose to ease her nerves.
“I hoped to confront you over our marriage”
“What of it?”
“Do you truly think everything is fine or are you just blind?”
“I and my wife have honored our vows”
“That is the problem, you and your wife, it has never been just your vows”
“When you wed us you were to understand your place when it came to me and (y/n), I never used her as a surprise, you called for our aid and we generously offered it”
He was right, Rhaenyra had never been blindsided by them, (y/n) was a staple of their marriage, (y/n)s strive for the legitimacy of her children was the only reason Daemon allowed their wedding to happen, (y/n) had drank for Rhaenyras cup just as daemon had, binding their hands together and swore loyalty and devotion to their future queen.
As a woman Rhaenyra felt cast aside, this marriage was an insult to her pride, and having to bare through a birth of a child one after the other with a smile on her face was a twist of a knife in her wound, while her womb lay empty.
“You refuse to spend time with me, alone, you only show up with your children-“
“Our children, (y/n) and I call your sons our sons”
“At court yes”
“Are you questioning our actions? I did not have you to be as dim-witted as you seem right now, (y/n) called Lucerys her trueborn son in front of everyone, I took a man’s head for insulting you and our house and yet you stand before me and claim it is not enough for your liking?”
“I stand here to remind you that we have yet to produce a child, you can kill as many men as you wish, and (y/n) can scream it at the top of her lungs but that does not change that everyone sees her parading her belly and call her the realms mother while my womb rottenness under this wedlock”
“Rotten? Alright then, let us entertain this and say you bare my child, a silver-haired beauty that the realm will welcome, has it crossed that brilliant mind of yours that this will be more of a scandal for your three boys?”
“My sons are Targaryens”
“No doubt about it, but certainly they do not look like the part, in comparison to their brothers and sisters they look more like (y/n) than you”
“You are not refusing to lay with me to hush the rumors, you simply do not have the urge for it, I remember a time that you did, mayhaps it was the image of a gullible girl that kept you going”
“Listen and listen well, wife, (y/n) is my eternal love, the woman that took me in her arms and showed me life, you are my blood, I protected you, I defended you, I offered you sanctuary just so you can once again have something to complain about, well that is it, if you dare to summon me again for such idiotic matters I will grab my brother by the neck and force him to annul the marriage do you understand?”
Daemon was furious, as he spoke he started taking steps towards her, to the point that her back found the wall and Daemon was inches away from her face, hissing out the threat of annulment like a snake that released poison to its prey.
Rhaenyra had never experienced such hostility from Daemon, to say she was shocked was an understatement as her eyes frantically tried to find focus on his, daemons eyes were filled with fury, Rhaenyra had crossed the line in his mind, (y/n) had been kind and honorable to the princess, doing her duty like a proper lady wife and Rhaenyra scoffed at her, at his (y/n).
“Alright”
“Wonderful, now you must excuse me, I have some urgent matters that need my attention”
Requests are open!
1K notes · View notes
disillusioneddanny · 7 months
Text
Postcards and Polaroids
Bruce Wayne sighed as he walked through the streets of San Francisco, his shoulders hunched in on himself. He had been dreading this business trip for days now, and had been doing everything he could to get out of it but Lucius had put his foot down and all but demanded that he go.
Yes, Bruce’s friend knew what going to San Francisco meant to Bruce, knew how hard being in this damned city was but he didn’t particularly care. Not when he still blamed Bruce for what had happened in the first place. The Fox family in general had treated the Waynes differently ever since the event had happened.
Ever since Tim Drake had taken his own life.
Nearly two years later, Bruce still didn’t know how he didn’t notice the signs. Now looking back on it, it was so ridiculously obvious just how badly his middle son had been hurting and Bruce had done nothing for him, had not been there for support, and hadn’t given Tim the love he so desperately needed.
Instead, he had put the Mission first. He had been so consumed in catching up on what he had issued during his time last in the time steam that he had started to treat Tim more like a soldier than a son. Looking back now he knew what he should have done differently.
It was so glaringly obvious to him now how he should have handled things, how he should have handled Tim.
Tim had managed to pull him out of the timestream and Bruce had not thought too much on the lengths that Tim had gone to do it. If he was being honest, he still was not sure how Tim had done it. All Bruce remembered was there was a bright green portal that had opened up before him, Tim had walked out in a suit that was definitely not the Robin suit that Bruce remembered and had taken Bruce’s hand.
He remembered he didn’t even hug Tim as he stepped out to the other side. He just remembered being led to the med bay for Alfred to check him over, remembered that Tim had quietly left the Batcave without a word to a single person in the family and Bruce hadn’t seen him again. At least, not his Tim, he should say.
He had seen Tim’s new vigilante persona Red Robin at least once every two weeks when Red Robin would check in with Batman on how his patrols were going. He would see Tim Drake-Wayne when Bruce was forced by Alfred and Lucius to check in on the going ons of Wayne Enterprises. But he had never tried to take the CEO role back from Tim. In his mind at the time, the seventeen-year-old had been doing so well, he had taken to the job like Bruce had never been able to do and he was thriving.
Or at least, that’s how Bruce had seen it at the time.
He hadn’t noticed the bags that covered the skin under Tim’s eyes, and hadn’t heard the sheer exhaustion that was in his voice. He hadn’t noticed that Tim was slowly killing himself under the pressure of trying to do everything.
He never questioned why Tim stopped coming to family meals. He never questioned why Dick and Damian both refused to talk about him. He never asked why Jason had pulled away from the family again when he had just gotten Jason back before the entire time situation had started.
He had never questioned how Damian had become Robin.
There were a lot of things that Bruce had simply allowed to continue on without investigation and looking back on it now, he didn’t understand why he did. It was never in Bruce’s nature to not question things. He had always been a curious person, even as a child before the deaths of his parents. He had always wanted to know why, when, and how on every single thing.
But for some reason when it came to Tim, it had never even occurred to him to ask.
Jason had been the one to explain why.
Tim had proven himself to be so unbelievably independent, so similar to Bruce in a way that none of Bruce’s other children seemed to be able to do. Bruce saw so much of himself in Tim that he had never thought to ask Tim how he was doing, he had automatically assumed that Tim would say something if there was a problem and that had been where Bruce had screwed up. Considering even now as an adult Bruce struggled with sharing his feelings or letting others know when the world was starting to get too heavy on his shoulders, he should have known that Tim would be the same way.
He had just never expected that Tim would crack under the pressure.
Strong, capable, intelligent Tim who had singlehandedly brought Bruce back when no one else knew how.
Independent, determined, amazing Tim who at just seventeen years old was smarter than Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Ra’s Al Ghul combined.
Tim Jackson Drake-Wayne who had been Bruce’s pride and joy, his son had been crumbling under the weight of the world and no one had noticed.
It was Tam who had found the body.
None of the bats thought twice about the fact that they hadn’t seen or heard from Tim in days. It was usual for him to go days without checking in. Even as Red Robin he only checked in every two weeks and it hadn’t been that long yet.
Tam had noticed the day it had happened but she had investigated with Bruce and his family first to find out what was going on. When they didn’t have answers she went to find Tim.
She had gone into Tim’s house, a house that none of the bats even knew about, and found Tim sprawled on the floor of his living room, a single gunshot wound to the head.
There was something symbolic about Tim using a gun to kill himself. Bruce wasn’t sure what the symbolism was, had never really let himself look into it more but he knew it had to do with him and he couldn’t bear to try to understand why Tim thought it the best way to take his own life. Why Tim had thought it necessary for him to take his own life in the first place?
They had done all the tests they could, Bruce had turned down an autopsy on the very slim chance of Tim coming back to life but they had proven it was Tim and not a body double or a clone of some sort.
It was upon the family learning about Tim’s death that each member of Bruce’s family had broken down, and had started to blame themselves for Tim’s suicide.
It had started with Alfred the night they had taken Tim’s body to the mortician’s office. In a moment of what Alfred would consider weakness, he had broken down to Bruce. Had admitted how he had not done enough, how he had not tried hard enough to keep Tim in the family. He had quietly admitted to Bruce that he had talked to Dick about admitting Tim to Arkham Asylum while they had been under the belief that Bruce was dead.
He had quietly admitted to not believing Tim, to even going so far as to raise his voice at the teenager and told him to cease with his crusade. Bruce had listened in horror as Alfred explained his role in taking Robin from Tim and supporting Dick into giving the role to Damian. He had accused himself of driving Tim away from the family.
The next had been Dick.
He had been inconsolable from the moment he had learned of Tim’s death. Had been unable to keep himself together long enough to form coherent words much less sentences. It wasn’t until a week after Tim’s funeral that he had finally come to Bruce about it and he had just sobbed. He had explained through broken words and a quivering voice how he had treated Tim worse than any of his brothers. How he had failed the promise that he had made after Jason’s death to be a better big brother.
Dick had been the one to say what Bruce had been numbly thinking himself.
Tim was just so utterly reliable and independent that he had forgotten at times that Tim was still just a seventeen-year-old kid. Not only was he just a kid, he was a kid with trauma, with secrets that none of them had ever known about.
At that point, Bruce had already been slowly unraveling the secrets that Tim had kept close to his chest or only allowed certain people in his life to know about. He had learned about the loss of Tim’s spleen, the strange relationship he had with Ra’s al Ghul and so much more. It was horrifying to know just how much Tim had been carrying on his own but it was all there in Tim’s files, the meticulous reports he kept for himself painted a picture that Bruce had no idea about.
There were just so many different sides of Tim and for being his father, Bruce felt like a lousy human being.
After Dick had finally calmed down to explain how he failed Tim, failed him in so many ways, in the same ways that Bruce had. Bruce had no words for him. How could he tell him that it was okay when they were all still in the aftershocks of Tim’s death, of his suicide?
He had taken his own life and hadn’t even bothered to leave a letter explaining why he had done it. All they had been able to find was a post-it note with the scribbled words “I’m sorry” written upon it so hard that each letter was indented into the pages of the post-it pad.
Instead, he had told Dick that they would both work to be better for the future, for the rest of their family so that no one else in their family would ever experience the kind of pain that Tim had gone through.
The next had surprised Bruce the most.
He hadn’t expected for the silent tears that had streamed from Damian’s face as he crawled into Bruce’s bed one night. He never said a word, never breathed out a single utterance of how he had wronged Tim. They all knew. They had all known the harmful words that Damian had thrown Tim’s way, and knew of each attempt to kill the older boy. Bruce had never said a word about them further than scolding Damian when it had happened in front of him.
He should have done more. He should have punished Damian for his treatment of Tim, and should have done what he could to make sure that Tim knew just how loved and treasured he was. How important he was to Bruce and their family and instead he had allowed the abuse from his youngest son to continue and called it brotherly bonding, assuming that it was just how siblings treated one another.
But he knew that night that he would never allow for another child of his to treat another one the way Damian had treated Tim. He also knew that Damian would never continue to treat others the way he had treated Tim. Knew that the pre-teen saw the way he had assisted in pushing Tim over the age and knew he would never do it again.
Jason had been the quietest in his grief.
He had cut himself from the family once again upon Tim’s death as if the only reason he had rejoined in the first place was because of Tim. It had been a quiet resignation with Jason, no more taunting, no arguments. If a member of the bats did contact the crime lord the conversations were short and sweet with none of the barbs that the family had come to expect from Jason.
It wasn’t until he had found some discarded polaroids in one of Tim’s safe houses that he realized that the two were mending the bond between them. The resigned smirk on Jason’s face besides a beaming Tim spoke volumes to Bruce as he looked at the picture of the two.
The others had all grieved quietly as well, none of them ready or able to talk about Tim, about why he would have taken his own life when he had so much to live for. The Titans had been inconsolable upon learning of Tim’s death, Bart and Conner going as far as to blame Bruce and the others for Tim’s death, accusing them of driving Tim to suicide of all things.
Reflecting now, they were right.
The Wayne family had caused the death of one of their own.
It made times like now even more difficult.
He was in San Francisco for a business meeting, yet he couldn’t help but look out to Titan’s Tower and even two years later briefly wonder if Tim was there. He knew, at his deepest core he knew that Tim wasn’t there yet his heart always hoped.
It had been two years, Bruce had seen Tim’s body with his own eyes and he knew, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Tim was dead. Yet there was a small, hopeful part of him that wanted it to all be an intense mission that required Tim to erase himself from the world. That Tim was just in an intense undercover ops mission.
Being in San Francisco always made him think about Tim, though. Of his adventures with the Teen Titans, of the way he would gush about how the best pizza was found here. How he would always look to the West as though that was where his heart truly was.
Losing a son caused Bruce to be more introspective, to look more back on things and analyze them in ways he didn’t used to.
With Tim he would look back and realize that Tim was never actually happy in Gotham. That the only reason he was even still living in Gotham was for the Mission. He had felt an obligation to stay. Jason had been the one to finally explain to the rest of the family that Tim never saw himself as a member of the family.
That he only saw himself as a necessary cog in the machine. That he was simply there to make sure that the rest of the team was a functioning machine, that he was only there to assist them and nothing more. He had never really seen himself as a part of the family, never imagined himself as Bruce’s son. Hell, he had even gotten himself emancipated when Bruce had gone missing. Bruce could see it now, could see how Tim carefully cut each of his bonds to the family one by one without any of them ever noticing he had done so.
The vigilante shook his head, trying to forcefully clear his mind of the thoughts that were currently plaguing his mind. He couldn’t think about Tim right now. He had things to do, he needed to get lunch, needed to prepare for this damned meeting and then fly back to Gotham as soon as he could so that he would no longer be haunted by the ghost of his son.
He tiredly looked at the others passing by him on the street, the bright and happy faces of people who would never understand what it was like to know that they had driven their son to suicide. Bright happy couples who looked like they knew what it was like to cherish their loved ones.
Bruce did a double take, though, at one man who walked alone on the sidewalk. His dark black hair was covered in a beanie and he wore sunglasses reminiscent of the ones that Tim used to wear religiously. That wasn’t what stopped Bruce in his tracks, though. It was the jacket that adorned the young man’s shoulders. It was a jacket that Bruce had seen Tim wear like a second skin when he wasn’t wearing any of his suits. A gray denim jacket with a few worn patches upon it. One of the Flash logo and one of the Superman logo. But they were never for either of those heroes, they had always been for Impulse and Superboy. He knew that if he looked at the back of the jacket there was a black patch sewn in from where Damian had ripped the jacket after one of his murder attempts.
His legs took control of his body and made their way towards the young man who had stopped to type on his phone.
“Tim,” Bruce breathed out and the man looked up and frowned and Bruce knew he had made a mistake. It wasn’t Tim. He had likely bought the jacket from a thrift store. Bruce knew that they had donated nearly all of Tim’s things after they were certain that he wouldn’t come back from the dead.
The young man looked Bruce up and down for a moment before he gave him a small smile. “No Sir, I’m sorry. I’m Danny,” he said, giving Bruce a crooked smile.
“My apologies,” Bruce nearly stammered out, still unable to tear his eyes from the jacket that adorned his arms. “You uh, you look like my son. He passed away two years ago and sometimes I see him in others.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the young man said and gave him a sad look. “I hope that wherever he is now he’s a lot happier.”
Bruce just gave him a small, sad smile of his own. “It’s quite alright, it’s been two years. Everyone says that grief will fade with time but I don’t think that’s true,” he said before he shook his head. “I apologize, it seems that this old man is a little more emotional than usual today.”
“It’s quite alright,” Danny said with a laugh, repeating the same phrase Bruce had just given him. “Someone very close told me that grief is love everlasting, it means that even though the person you love is gone, you still love them. You still hold their memory tight to your chest and you treasure them.” Danny furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. “I think that grief gives us a reason to keep moving forward in life. Because we are no longer living our lives for ourselves, we’re also living life for the ones that we lost in the hopes that they’re proud of us.”
Bruce paused and looked at the man in front of him searching for something, he didn’t know what. “Have you already eaten?”
Danny shook his head. “No sir, I was just headed to a little shop for lunch. Would you like to join me?”
“If it isn’t an inconvenience,” Bruce said hesitantly and Danny just beamed.
“Not at all! My husband just canceled our lunch plans on me so I’d be more than happy to have you join me,” he said. “There’s this pizza shop down the street that has some of the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life.”
“That’s where I was headed, actually,” Bruce said and followed the younger man down the sidewalk, opening the door for his new young friend before the two were seated.
“What was your son like?” Danny asked as they waited for their orders to arrive to the table.
Bruce gave him a brilliant smile, he had never felt so thankful to be asked to talk about his son. “He was amazing,” he said breathlessly. “One of the most brilliant minds I had ever encountered. I remember when he was just a tiny thing and he would come with his parents to galas that I was at and I just remember being so amazed at this little boy and his bright mind. And then I adopted him years later and he just never ceased to amaze me. He was so strong and determined. And he cared so much about the people around him. I failed to realize until after he passed on that the same love for others he did not have for himself.” Bruce was quiet for a moment as he stirred his straw around in his cup for a moment. “He killed himself.”
Danny let out a breath. “I’m sure he sees now, knows just how much you love him,” he said, still giving Bruce that sorrowful look.
“It should have never gotten to that point. I should have made sure he knew when he was alive just how much I love him. But Tim, Tim was always my strong kid. He was the one I never thought I had to worry about because he was just so capable. He was so sure in himself, I mean the things he did, they were amazing. I would have never felt so confident in myself at just seventeen years old, not the way he was,” Bruce snorted. “I’m well into my fifties now and I still struggle with self doubt and I never took a minute to realize that Tim did. I never felt like I had to worry about him and that was my mistake. Because no matter how sure I was in my love for him, no matter how I felt about Tim, that’s not how he felt. And he deserved to get the love and support from his family and not just know that we loved him, you understand?”
The young man nodded his head sagely. “I understand. My parents were similar, they had just assumed that I knew that they loved me, assumed that I knew their jokes were lighthearted and in jest but for me they never were. They were harmful and mean and my parents were neglectful and never cared about my feelings. I don’t talk to them anymore,” he said with a sad twist of his lips. “They don’t reach out either. I-I would have loved for a dad like you, Bruce. But I don’t think my parents will ever realize that it was their fault I left or that I never felt welcome. Wherever Tim is, he’s very lucky to have you as a father. Because even if you realized too late, you still realized it. I doubt mine ever will.”
Bruce gave him a soft smile and leaned across the table to grab Danny’s forearm in a comforting grip. “Your parents are missing out,” he said with a kind smile. “If you ever need anything, call me,” he said quietly before he slipped Danny his card with his personal number on it.
Danny took it and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”
The waitress soon brought their pizza by and the two fell into a comfortable silence.
“What do you do for work?” Bruce asked and Danny chuckled.
“I’m a mechanic,” he said simply. “I own a shop here in town with my husband. He actually ditched our lunch plans because our supplies truck came in and he wanted to get it done.”
“Oh? Well, if you ever find yourself in Gotham, we would love a mechanic like you at Wayne Enterprises,” he said with a small smile. Danny let out a soft chuckle.
“I appreciate it, Mr. Wayne,” he said and Bruce raised an eyebrow, remembering that he had never introduced himself to the boy. Danny flipped the card to show Bruce’s full name on the card and laughed. “I recognized you the moment I saw you,” he admitted and Bruce chuckled.
“I’m not surprised,” he admitted. “I’m unfortunately a recognizable face.”
“I can imagine,” he said before he stood. “I had a lovely time, Mr. Wayne but I have to get back to the shop before my husband goes insane. I can’t trust him alone in the shop for too long before he gets another hair-brained idea,” he said, chuckling at what was likely an inside joke between him and his husband.
“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Danny, you were a wonderful lunch companion, and thank you for listening,” he said with a kind smile.
Danny smiled and nodded before he made his way out of the pizza shop.
Bruce smiled and sat back in his seat, shoving his hands in his suit pocket as he stared at the spot where Danny had previously been sitting when he felt the sharp edges of something in his pocket. He furrowed his brow and pulled out two pieces of stiff paper. One looked to be a Polaroid picture, the other a postcard.
The postcard read Greetings from San Francisco. It also had a folded-up piece of paper taped to the back that Bruce carefully unfolded.
Hi Bruce,
I’ve written and rewritten this a thousand times. I never knew how to write it. I guess I should say surprise! I’m not dead! I’m sorry for making you and the others think I am. But it was for the best, it was for the sake of my mental health and it was the only way I could get away from Ra’s al Ghul and live my life. Someone I love once asked me if I could do anything in the world without the Mission hanging over my head what would it be? And I realized that I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know who I was outside of being Tim Drake Wayne, CEO and Vigilante and I realized I wasn’t happy. Maybe one day I’ll somehow reappear in your lives, maybe I’ll be able to share my joy with you and the others, maybe you’ll get to actually get to know my husband. I’m not sure when that will be, but maybe one day I’ll come back. I’ve obviously contemplated it enough considering I even made a point to reach out to you at all rather than let you continue to think I was dead. Which, I’m sorry about. It was the only thing I could think of to get out and I was drowning. If I hadn’t faked it, I would have actually gone through with it, I would have killed myself and been done with it. Danny saved my life when he helped me fake my death. I know you’re angry, I know you’re hurt. But I need you to understand just how badly I was hurting for years. This is not meant to make you feel guilty, I honestly never wanted any of you to blame yourselves for my death. But it’s simply for you to understand that I had my reasons and I don’t regret them. The last two years with Danny have been some of the best times of my life and I’m immeasurably happy.
Please don’t look for me. Don’t look for Danny either no matter how much you want to. I’m happy. I’ll reach out when I’m ready.
Tim.
Bruce wiped the back of his hand against the tears that threatened to spill over as he read over the note once, twice, three times before he finally managed to look at the polaroid picture. On the film showed two men, one holding the other in a bridal position, the two of them wearing wedding bands that they happily showed off to the camera. Tim looked beyond happy cradled in Danny’s arms as they smiled at the camera and Bruce felt some of the heaviness lift.
He wiped at the tear that managed to escape his eyes and looked around, carefully to see if anyone noticed him when he saw two figures standing outside on the sidewalk across the street.
Danny just gave him an awkward smile as the man next to him threw his arm around Danny’s shoulders and from beneath his black sunglasses and ball cap gave Bruce a tiny smile and a peace sign before the two started walking down the sidewalk together.
629 notes · View notes
babushkatty · 6 months
Text
Tranquil SAGAU - Part 1
-> Part 2
Your isekai trip (or descension, as others called it) into Teyvat was as abrupt as it was underwhelming.
There were no midnight showers of gold and purple, reminescent of the wishing screen you would religiously open every hour or so, hoping to miraculously have 160 primogems to make another pull. No sudden change in weather as Teyvat welcomed you with the eagerness of a golden lab puppy. No sudden meetings of significant and powerful people (vision holders, archons, adepti or otherwise) that would either scorn you or worship you with the zeal of a fanatic either.
No, it was a very quiet and peaceful affair.
You went to sleep in your bed after another mundane day that was more a blur than a memory, only to wake up in the ruins of Old Mondstadt, on the back of a peacefully sleeping Dvalin -- feeling well rested for what seemed like the first time in years, free of the pain poor sleeping positions and even worse body posture developed into.
Old Mondstadt is so much more beautiful than you remember it being in the game, but it was understandable -- it wasn't a game anymore.
The wind sings the haunting melody of Stormterror's Lair as you simply sit on Dvalin's back for hours, at peace with the world and yourself. You forget entirely about the stress of assignments, of deadlines, of examinations stacked unto one another like a house of cards, of trying to fit expectations of your friends and family that you were never made to fit and simply let yourself be.
You breathe.
It was nice.
"All-Mother." Dvalin rumbles from underneath you and it breaks the blissfull trance. He turns his head to look at you, seemingly not minding you being completely sprawled out on his back like roadkill.
"I'm sorry, Dvalin, I think you mistook me for someone." You smile sheppishly.
He huffs, but instead of sounding annoyed he just seemed... Indulgent. It was a good sign to you, who were pretty much at his mercy -- if he wanted to, he could use you as his personal toothpick and you wouldn't be able to do anything against it at all, so it's for the best that the situation doesn't escalate like that.
Then again, Venti did say Dvalin was a gentle child. You didn't see any blood clot crystals on his neck or back, so you were probably in the clear. Worst case scenario, he'd dump you on the ground and you'd have a bruised tailbone.
He made a damn good bed though, you wouldn't mind lounging on him some more if he allowed it.
"You are the All-Mother, there is no mistake. But it is only natural to deny, you do not remember."
He brings his head back and nuzzles you. You quietly melt into a puddle of happiness as he purrs and rubs against you like an overgrown cat.
He was so soft it was criminal. It was like the 'if evil why hot' trend all over again, except this time it was 'if scary why soft' instead.
"Teyvat will remember for you, even when you do not. Your kindness, your warmth, your care - all shall be paid back in full and more, for you are the All-Mother and like any mother, mortal or otherwise, you deserve to be taken care of by your children."
You don't argue, if only because dragons are known for being stubborn. The atmosphere was too nice to waste on a petty argument.
"Do you know how I got here?" you ask instead.
You don't ask about the way back quite yet. You're not sure you ever would, if you were being honest. It just... Felt right to be here, in Teyvat, instead of back home.
In the back of your mind, you quietly wonder if you should feel guilty about not being attached to your old world, to your friends and family, all that much, but you dismiss the notion quickly. Feeling different than what you were taught was normal wasn't wrong, people were different from one another and trying to hold yourself to an impossible standard just because it was the average would only make you miserable.
Your world was slowly growing more accepting towards differences, perhaps in a few decades your emotional stance would be validated as well.
"Teyvat brough you here, that is all I know."
Dvalin huffs against you and you chuckle, a little ticklish.
You both fall silent after that and simple enjoy each other's presence and the ambience of Old Mondstadt.
Dvalin's willingness to simply be, without chatter or interaction, only made your resolve to stay stronger. No one back home understood your need to simply be in a room with another presence, both people doing their own things, everyone called you odd for it.
It was really nice.
"Call me (Name)."
☆(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ* ✨ Author Note✨
I'm bad at naming things and I'm bad at tumblr - perfect combination!
It's a gender-neutral post/series (if I write more), I promise! (Or at least I'm trying my best to write it as gender-neutral, you have full permission to yell at me if I slip up so that I can fix it!)
The term "All-Morher" is not meant to assign a gender, it's meant to compare the Creator of Teyvat to a mother (as I tried to clarify with Dvalin), because mothers bring life into the world and the Creator brought life to Teyvat.
You know, like a mother.
Besides, gods are above something as silly as gender or race *gesturing wildly to Loki giving birth to an 8-legged horse*
I am aiming for a very soft and gentle AU, the terms Creator or Your Grace didn't fit into it at all! Teyvat knows its' All-Mother is an utter softie that doesn't care for religious worship and would rather chill, so its' adjusting to fulfill those preferences -- hence, no grand entrance, no throwing its' All-Mother into the deep end by parking their ass in front of Mondstadt gates and no scrambling to survive.
Just a nice, quiet day chilling with Dvalin.
Fun fact, I have never done the Sumeru Quest and I don't have the space for Fontaine, so that's gonna remain a thing for a long, long while yet.
I don't read the manga either.
We D'ballin, ✨who needs lore accuracy anyways✨
That being said, I am slowly going insane because of the windows in-between subjects at Uni. Who made that a thing? I just want to talk, I promise.
Yell at my bad english, I'm an english major so all yelling is appreciated.
629 notes · View notes
manszen · 4 months
Text
valentine’s day
Tumblr media
pairing. fem!reader x trafalgar law.
summary. law wonders how he can make it up to you.
contains. fluff, established relationship.
word count. 1.2k.
note. i may or may not have word vomited with this one.
Tumblr media
anyone could tell from the first impression that law isn’t someone you would consider a romantic.
his usually tight expression says so. he’s dry and blunt, gets easily irritated when something is out of his control — well, that’s just the way he is. but for whatever reason, you admire him for it.
he’s aware of where your relationship with him stands. it’s right there on the edge of a precipice, bound to tip over to the side that burdens the other. a beautiful disaster awaiting, so to speak.
his reason? you’re kind and he’s not. you’re gentle. he’s ruthless. you’re radiant. he’s gloomy.
polar opposites in every aspect. yet somehow, it works.
the two of you work.
it’s a bit unusual for him to be immersed in the thoughts of you. not that he doesn’t think of you — he does. but most of the time his mind is already preoccupied with his responsibilities as a captain, and as a doctor next.
he’s carrying multiple lives in his hands, after all.
but once he realizes there’s no one else in the rented inn that he shares with the rest of the crew, he allows himself to wonder about you just a little bit more.
you care for him, that much is obvious. when he forgets to do it for himself, you’re already there. gingerly reminding him that he’s the expert and he should know better. that even doctors need their rest and help from other people. all the while donning a cheeky smile on your face.
you take care of him all the more when no one else can reach him. sometimes at night, when the memories of his tormenting childhood come back to haunt him, you’re there — stroking the anxious creases between his brows, the frown curling on his lips; and the only thing helping him to calm down is your hushed whispers of ‘i’m here, you’re safe’, your tender embrace that soothes his inner child.
you’re that loving. and you never once complained at his own lack of sympathy, or at least, the little amount thereof.
the fact that you’re even used to his little episodes of isolation, his sudden avoidance from people that have nothing to do with you, you never kicked up a fuss.
it’s why he finds you disarming and beguiling at the same time.
and it makes him mad — so, so mad — that he’s difficult the way he is.
you don’t complain nor demand anything from him. as far as he can recall, it’s always you that gives, never takes anything for yourself.
it’s as if you already know he cares for you in a strange but honest way, and that is enough on its own.
law distractedly closes the medical book in his hand that’s long forgotten since he started thinking of you. suddenly, he feels worthless, trapped in his own body.
there’s a high chance you would feel unappreciated if this slack behavior of his goes on. he’s aware that most couples often express their affection — either by corny declarations or expensive gifts, whichever works — and that exactly where his dilemma lies.
he doesn’t do any of those.
he doesn’t feel the need to do any of those.
but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t do any of those.
he groans. he can feel a headache coming from miles away. when he closes his eyes for a quick rest, he imagines you playfully scowling and ready to berate him for overworking his brain yet again.
“damn it,” he shakes his head. this is why he tries not to delve into his feelings. you make him feel warm all over and giddy.
he glances at the scenery past the open windows, watching the gentle wind breeze through the row of bushes outside. he sees something that piques his interest, and upon confirmation, unintentionally uses his powers to check it a tiny bit closer.
“room,” he commands, and the pale blue sphere immediately covers the area with him at its center. he unsheathes kikoku from her scabbard, and expertly severs the object he has his eyes on.
once he thinks he got it, he snatches a random napkin on the table and directs again, “shambles.”
whatever is exchanged in the center of his palm brings out a soft smile to his lips.
“hey, captain.”
in his haste, law hides his flustered hands beneath the table. “hey, you’re back early,” he coughs, seeing you so picturesque at the inn’s entry way.
“my feet are tired.” yawning, you saunter over to him. “did you have fun?”
“more or less. want to retire for the night?”
you nod.
he collects his things before leading you back to his room. he makes sure to not show his hands to you, but even if he does, you’re more fixated on the trinkets that are scattered around in the hallway.
“i think i like this inn better than the last one,” you muse.
he grunts as a reply, but then remembers about his earlier agenda — his newfound agenda of becoming a better boyfriend. “same here,” he says in between his teeth, earning him a puzzled look and an even more amused smile from you.
you don’t comment on his behavior. it’s silent for a while, only the sounds of your footsteps could be heard across the floor. he opens the door to his room, side-stepping to let you in first, which again, earned him a skeptical glance.
“ladies first,” he tries to be smooth, but heaven knows it sounds incredibly hoarse.
still, he’s grateful you don’t make a jab at him. you obediently enter his room and he follows after you. he watches your expression change from being wide-eyed to droopy, and there’s a silly little smile on your face as you sigh, “alone finally.”
you’re not alone, technically speaking. he’s with you inside the room. but law bites his tongue, refraining from letting his crude mouth run loose. instead, he observes you like a hawk as you stretch your arms above your head, yawning ungracefully as you do.
you’re saying something unintelligible. maybe asking what his plans are after dinner, or maybe when is the right time to go back sailing the seas. but he couldn’t care less about any of that.
right now, he’s deeply and immensely attracted, and he finds himself walking closer to you.
god damn it. how could someone look so beautiful and unguarded at the same time?
“law?”
“hmm?”
“are you alright?”
he’s now a few inches away from you, and with the height difference, you have nothing else to do but to look up at him. it makes him smirk, “never been better.”
you bite your lip.
“i missed you,” law admits after a moment, becoming serious all of a sudden.
he watches your eyes go wide, before lifting up one tattooed hand to brush your hair behind your ear, sneaking something through the strands of your hair.
a subtle fragrance drifts in the space between, and you reach out to touch where his hand has just been, “what’s this?”
“it’s hydrangea,” he mumbles, taking a long look at you then deciding that it suits you. it suits you very well, much to his relief. “it means gratitude and apology.”
you giggle. although, bewilderment is still apparent in your eyes, “what did you do this time, law?”
he shrugs. he’s not particularly asking for forgiveness, simply that he feels the need to do something — to give you something since he’s usually the one on the receiving end.
“already forgiven.”
law rolls his eyes, the grin you're wearing is too infectious. “you’re so easy to please.”
you chuckle, appreciating the flower — his flower — that he sneakily placed by your ear.
“and you’re a bit of a romantic when you want to be.”
Tumblr media
stealing, modifying, translating, or reposting this work on other platforms is strictly discouraged.
246 notes · View notes
yinyangswings · 1 year
Text
If Ace had a child
Tumblr media
Is absolutely terrified when he finds out. It’s not that he hadn’t thought about it, he had. Having a baby with you seems like a dream. But he had always shot that idea down. And it’s not because he’s a pirate but because who he is, because who his father is.
Does he even deserve to have a child??
You know the answer and gently hold him as he tells you his fears and worries, assuring him over and over again that he will be a wonderful father. He doesn’t completely believe you, but a faint smile appears nonetheless. 
Whitebeard and the crew are ecstatic. A new member for their nakama. They’re going to be aunts and uncles! And the idea of being a grandpa? Oh, Whitebeard is ecstatic
Luffy and Sabo? Oh, they are excited. They’re going to be uncles!!! How could they not be excited!?
And he is happy, he truly is. But Ace wonders if he should be allowed to be excited. If he deserves to be happy. No matter what his crew or his brothers tell him he can’t help but think he doesn’t deserve this.
He struggles between excitement and dread until you're four months along and one day hurry over to him, excitement across your face. He looks at you confused as you hold his hand over the soft swell of your stomach. A few moments later he feels a soft tap against his hand. A kick.
The baby is kicking.
And suddenly all those worries, those fears that had been plaguing his mind vanish in the instant he feels the baby kick. A look of awe appears on his face. That soft fluttering from your stomach is answer enough. Your hand wraps around his, looking at him with a smile. 
“Looks like they’re saying hi to Papa.”
He swallows and pulls you close, his hand pressed against your stomach. Seconds later the moment between the two of you is interrupted by the crew, all wanting to feel the baby kick.
After that first kick, Ace’s attitude changes towards the baby and the pregnancy. 
He was already protective of you (especially after Marineford where you nearly died to save him), but now it’s magnified 100 times more. Forget trying to do anything remotely lifting. Ace is like a Velcro monkey to you and is always within throwing distance so you can barely pick up a box and he’s taking it out of your hands. 
Not to mention that at night when he thinks you're asleep he starts talking to the baby bump, soft and gentle, as to not wake you. He tells them about his day, something one of the crewmen did, about his brothers. Occasionally he’ll talk about his fears and that he hopes he doesn’t fuck everything up with them. You can’t help but intervene at that point telling him he won’t. And even if he makes a mistake, he’s not alone.
He may or may not have nearly shit himself at that point.
You become all too aware that wherever you go, if Ace isn’t there, a commander or crewmate is never far behind you. 
Ace had asked them, though it hadn’t taken much to convince them. After all this their crewmate and their niece or nephew too. How could they not make sure that both are safe?
You sigh but just accept your fate. You won’t be convincing your family to not follow you around like ducklings anytime soon
There’s a bet going around the crew as to when the baby will be born and whether it will be a boy or a girl.
They try very hard for you to not find out. They don’t have a death wish
If Marco knows during the examinations he does for you, he’s not telling the crew. He doesn’t even tell Ace (‘the damn bird’ Ace mutters angrily all while you laugh)
The food cravings and morning sickness you honestly could do without. Especially the morning sickness as Ace now wakes up nearly every morning to you puking. The ever dutiful lover he is, he holds your hair back and tries to help you out the best he can.
You want to be angry with him, but one look at that face and it dies on the tip of your tongue. Though your glare of annoyance is still there.
Then the moment finally arrives and you go into labor. And Ace is a nervous wreck, but is trying to be strong for you. He lets you grip his hand, lets you scream and curse at him. Making him promise to never put you through this again
He can’t tell if you’re being serious about the last comment, but wisely (for once, Marco would later tease) keeps his mouth shut
And after who knows how long, you finally deliver that precious little child into this world.
A little girl. You and Ace have a little girl.
The first time he holds his daughter, he just stares at her for the longest time, taking in every inch of her. She’s wrinkly and pink, and so tiny (how can a baby be that small), and wailing so loudly. There’s a tuft of black hair on top of her head and her one little hand doesn’t even wrap around his index finger
But he falls in love in an instant and is crying his eyes out. He doesn’t care if anyone makes fun of him for being a crybaby, his daughter is in his arms. Healthy and alive.
The moment Whitebeard and his crew meet the little girl, it’s love at first sight for the entire crew. She’s only been alive for no more than an hour but she is so tiny and so precious to them already. 
Sabo and Luffy drop everything to go and meet their niece when they get word of her birth. It’s actually a race to get there before the other. 
Because Sabo knows if he doesn’t get there before Luffy, he’ll never get to hold her. 
Ace proves to be the ever doting father. He loves watching every little new thing she does. Every giggle and smile is precious to him. The way she reaches and clutches the red beads of his necklace or plays peek-a-boo with his hat makes him smile. He watches her sleep, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath and he thanks whatever higher power that he gets to meet her. 
For Sabo and Luffy that little girl can do no wrong in their eyes and she thoroughly enjoys it when they come to visit. She’s one of the only ones that can touch Luffy’s hat
Though her Papa’s hat is her favorite, much to Ace’s joy and his brother’s annoyance.
And if someone threatens his daughter? Or even attempts to harm her?
There won’t even be a body left to be buried. A well placed Fire Fist and they are nothing but ash.
Likewise if they think that Whitebeard’s crew won’t quickly annihilate anyone who goes after their niece/granddaughter they are sadly mistaken. 
That’s not even mentioning if Sabo or Luffy get wind of someone threatening their niece. 
It will be a bad day for anyone; marine, bandit, another pirate? Doesn’t matter. Go after her and be prepared to meet your maker. 
Sometimes Ace worries he’ll be no better than his father. That one day his daughter will hate him as much as he hates his own father. But then he holds the little girl late at night, watching as she curls up in his arms and to his warmth, a tiny fist wrapped around his index finger and knows one thing:
He loves this little girl and nothing will change his mind. 
1K notes · View notes
yawnderu · 8 months
Text
Parenthood — Miguel O'Hara x Reader
I love putting this man in situations.
Content: You kidnap a wombat and force Miguel to play house with you.
fluff, idiots in love, mutual pining.
Tumblr media
"You brought a living wombat into my office." Miguel notes bluntly, staring at you dead in the eyes with an unreadable expression as his slow-moving platform lowers.
"I wanted you to see it." You retort, shooting him a playful smile as you put the heavy creature on the floor, trying not to cringe at the pain on your back from carrying it. You crouch down next to it, petting it like it was a domestic pet, and it lets you.
"You could have sent a picture." Miguel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mutters in Spanish, not knowing what to make of the situation. Why was it always up to him to handle all this nonsense? He deals with timelines and the multiverse, what the hell does he know about wombats?
"Why on earth did you think you should bring this to my office?" He asks, jumping down from the platform and staring down at you and the not-so-tiny creature, hands on his hips.
"He was so miserable at the zoo! Now he's smiling and laughing— well, not really, but you get what I mean. He looks happier." You retort, looking up at Miguel to give him a sheepish grin.
"You're telling me you kidnapped a wombat just for this?" He looks between you and the wombat, who is now chasing you around. He's... both impressed and amused now. Impressed because you actually managed to do something like that, and amused because you would do something like that.
"What's his name?" He internally punches himself for falling for the bait. He knows he should have sent you away, maybe even have you arrested for stealing a zoo animal, but... you kidnapped the animal to show it to him, and it's playing with you, looking happy. It's... kind of endearing.
"I was thinking about naming him Miguel O'Hara." You answer teasingly as you lay down on the floor of his office, allowing the wombat to climb on top of you as your hands cover your face, feeling its tiny and gentle scratches on them.
"No— that's my name." Miguel says. This is adorable in the most unhinged sort of way, and he can't help but ignore the way the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly.
"Fine, then he'll be... Miggy." You poke your tongue out at him, sitting up as the wombat stays on your lap, being surprisingly calm. You made him tired by running around and letting it chase you.
"You call me that." He answered with a raised eyebrow, glancing between the wombat and you. He can feel his brain leaking out of his ears.
"Are you too selfish to share a nickname with a wombat?" You grin up at him, enjoying teasing him, just like every single time you're together. His reactions are the best, and he's so funny without even realizing, like a grumpy cat.
Miguel simply rolls his eyes, walking over and crouching down in front of you. He stares at you dead in the eye before disengaging his suit on his hand, reaching down to gently pet the wombat. His hands easily dwarfing the head of the animal, yet he's surprisingly gentle.
"Tell you what— this is my child, I'm its mother, and you'll be the father." Yes, you're trying to play house with the damn animal and Miguel. No, Miguel will not stop you, despite the way he rolls his eyes.
"I didn't sign up for this." He replies, yet he keeps petting the animal, scratching behind its ear. This girl could probably kidnap an entire herd of these if she so pleased... and he'd probably join in on it.
"You're insane." He tells her casually, though his words lack the usual bite they carry. "Actually insane." He loves her.
"You still have a huge crush on me, though." You retort teasingly, ignoring the way he's blankly staring at you, burning a hole through your head. He's probably making your head explode in his imagination.
"I don't." Miguel is a horrible liar and he knows it, yet that doesn't mean he won't defend himself against your horrible— but true accusations.
"You totally do." Your smug tone only makes things worse, forcing Miguel to try his best not to roll his eyes so far he could see his own brain. He simply sighs, ignoring you as he starts petting the wombat's tummy.
"Don't speak when I'm petting the baby. Cállate." It seems Miguel is getting a chance at parenthood with you, even when the "baby" is a 30kg marsupial. The thought of it makes the corners of his mouth slightly tilt up, looking down at the animal to hide it, yet you can still see it. The image of it puts a smile on your own face, yet this time, you keep quiet about it.
457 notes · View notes
enaelyork · 27 days
Note
Howdy!
I just discovered your blog and I am excited to read your Cooper Howard stuff.
I have a (18+) request for Cooper Howard as The Ghoul. Could I have him, the reader, and Lucy, traveling to New Vegas together and the reader and Cooper can't get a moment alone togther. Like Lucy accidently keeps interrupting or won't take the hint to leave, so Cooper at one point just says to her to leave so he can fuck the reader. Lucy feels so bad and leaves, and then the reader and Cooper go at it lol.
No worries if you can't do the request, I just want to say your an awesome writer!
Thanks❤️
Hey Anon ! Thx you so much for this request !
I reeeaaaaalllllly like this awkward plot. Here we go ! You u enjoy it.
Pls be cool, english is not my first langage.
Tumblr media
+ 18 DNI / Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul x Reader / P in V/ Fingering/ Piece of violence/ Unprotect sex.
Banners by @saradika
Word : +/-2.6 k
My ask for Cooper Howard is Open
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You wanted him.
There was nothing consistent with this need. Firstly because your first altercation wasn't anything like a love affair (unless hand-to-hand combat fell into that category), then because...Damn, he's more irradiated than a hundred power plants nuclear weapons combined.
But it was eating you up.
Eating away at every bit of your mind and reason. Every movement he made, every word that escaped his mouth made your stomach twist. It seduced you in all its horror, in all its brutality and you loved to consume yourself in this deep obsession.
And him too.
Oh yes. Him too.
You didn’t immediately notice what was happening until that evening. At the end of a grueling journey through the wastelands, you decided to take a break to spend the night in a less dangerous place. And through the flames of the pyre lit in the center of the small makeshift camp, you had seen his eyes. The look he gave you struck you to the core. You had not given in to his gaze, to the devouring glow that it contained in the shadow of his hat. He abused you psychologically, so much so that his mere presence next to you tortured you. The fascination that he skillfully distilled in your veins was no longer enough to contain the attraction you felt for him, and he played on it. As for who would be trapped first in these torments, you had no intention of giving up ground easily.
- There's a reserve there. You say, pointing to the cabin on the top of the hill. I'm going to look for something to burn.
No one had refuted the idea, not even Lucy who sat on a stone cuddling Dogmeat without even seeing what was happening before her eyes. This child was so innocent that she did not recognize a predator when he cohabited with her, much less the issues that were taking place under her nose. The shelter had provided a rare moment of peace during which you allowed yourself to breathe. On the table you were facing was a pile of old paper and some dry wooden rulers, enough to burn. It was a bargain to grab and you quickly put the whole thing together in your hands.
-I want to hear it.
The cold of his breath caressed your neck and made what you were carrying fall at arm's length. Without turning around, your eyes rolled towards the shadow that towered over you in all its height. He was so close to you that one movement would have been enough for him to grab you by the hip and flip you onto the table and, damn, that idea was more interesting than it should be.
Him. There. Behind you. Probably way too close.
-Hear what ?
- What you want. I want to hear you beg me to do it.
The laughter that left your mouth spread throughout the room, surprising even you with its brutality. It was the smartest thing to do, the healthiest reaction, and probably the best option you had left to not give in to him. Without a word, you turned around to lock your eyes with his, your hands firmly anchored in the old wood of this crumbling table to keep them at a safe distance from what they coveted.
-I never do that. To beg. Yet your eyes screamed otherwise and you sincerely hoped he was too blinded by his pride to understand it. Your irises lowered to scan it up and down as if it were an impregnable vestige.
-You can use your guns, a rope, or even your teeth. You will never hear me do such a thing, especially to you. I know how much pleasure it gives you.
- Oh, believe me, there are a lot of things that would give me pleasure right now.
There was nothing worse than this precise moment, suspended in the storm that has been brewing above you for too long. The storm swirled with your every glance, every moment his body was near yours, but nothing had yet managed to trigger the lightning.
Leave.
Your instincts proclaimed. Leave before you die in his arms. And probably that was what you wanted most in the world.
- Only in fairy tales do monsters and princesses love each other. And this world is not one.
However, your arms were already too close to his neck, his radiating your hips and pulling you to him without you putting up the slightest resistance.
It wasn't a fairy tale.
His burning scent consumed your nostrils and your heart was about to give in for good.
- In this world, monsters like to destroy pretty things.
A nervous laugh escaped your lips which you tried to keep away from his, but your butt was already hitting the wood of the table behind you when, suddenly, a noise made you jump.
- You are there ?
-Holy shit! He cursed, leaping away from you before propelling himself towards the door, a bloodthirsty impulse waving his hands as he opened the door to reveal your traveling companion.
Lucy.
Her eyes were full of innocence from long years in a shelter. Her smile and the sigh of relief she heaved when she discovered you in the shed made you want to laugh. She had no idea what had just happened.
- Oh damn! I was terribly afraid of never finding you again.
She exclaimed, putting an end to any possible attempt at approach. While Cooper nervously contained his desire to strangle her, you advanced towards him, a perfidious smile on your lips.
- I never liked spectators…
This is how the little game began.
-------------------
There are worse things than fear. Worse than impatience There is frustration. The one that itches, that annoys, the one that deflates the ardor that takes hold of you as the days pass. A frustration answering to the sweet name of Lucy. It is difficult for you to express to your friend the desire to see her leave. Not forever. Just a few moments, the space that would allow you to put an end to this duel between him and you.
To the looks. To provocations.
And his growing rage for your teammate. You were angry with him, with the way he spoke to her, his resentment which constantly burned his lips whenever he spoke to her. Lucy had taken the team's instructions literally without giving anyone a break.
She had only followed an order that came from him. But in a sense, this charade amused you, allowed you to understand that you were not the only one to be a slave to your impulses. He wasn't so scary after all. So weak in his humanity, at least in what remained of it. In a way, this fact reassured you that you were attracted, and it was pure madness. Then came this famous day. The route had taken an unexpected turn. An ambush set up in a ruined housing estate had seriously delayed you. Worse, while trying to hide, you had fallen into a hole, scraping your neck and abs against an iron rod.
- Are you injured? Oh, god, you're hurt !
Lucy had torn a section of her suit to quickly wrap the bleeding wound on her neck before arriving to safety. Once away from the danger zone and inside a building whose structure had reasonably withstood the disaster, she invited you to sit down as if you were about to die.
- I'm fine, I assure you.
- I really have to check.
Cooper hadn't said a word. It was a silence heavier than the chaos itself. A heavy silence, from which one could expect to see the worst horrors ensue. He had taken the chair away from the one you were sitting in and hadn't even laid eyes on you. An unpleasant tingling was felt in your neck when Lucy applied a treatment there, then tied the fabric again at the height of the wound. Tearing you away from the strange worry that was emerging within you. - You need to take off your top.
He was there. He had done nothing, not even for a moment had he tried to watch over you.
But that’s what a team does, right? Cannon fodder and fuck fodder, that's all you meant to him. And now that he had to slow down, that he had to take care of you, he seemed immersed in deep thought, probably looking for a way to get rid of you.
- There is nothing. I assure you.
- Do not joke. Do what I tell you. The space between those few seconds seemed eternal.
Not with him. Not when he's in this room.
This is what you should have answered, instead you saw yourself witnessing disaster. Your hands tugging at your t-shirt before taking it off, letting it fall to the floor, eyes focused on him.
Free fall.
A few seconds, his eyes on yours, his gaze wandering over your bare skin, the tingling of the scratch on your stomach blending into something else entirely. And a shot fired into the void, startling Lucy.
- Do you see that gun, Mclane? Lucy nodded, lips quivering.
- If you don't leave this room immediately, the next bul' that comes out of his barrel will end up in your skull.
- But…but…I didn’t… She paused for a moment, glancing over at you before turning back to Cooper, horrified.
- Don't worry about that, I'll take care of it.
- Oh my God. Oh my God, I,.. I,…
- Come out now, Lucy, please hurry up.
There was no need to give the blush time to flood her cheeks. She was too pure, too carefree to witness this. Because war was declared now, and nothing would stop it.
A second later, his hand closed around your aching neck, pushing you against the table.
- Say it.
- Bastard.
His burning hands ran over your skin, incandescent, they transformed your blood into magma. It was pure madness, but nothing was delicious than the violence with which he held you in this position, his hips firmly fitted to your ass.
- Oh, stop, someone had to tell her, right?
- I almost died.
-And whoever tried to do that ended up with their skull exploded. This is how it works and if you want to know… You could feel his breath on his neck, his hand searching for the opening of your pants. You could have easily pushed him away, but it was just to contradict him. Because you wanted him, almost as much as he did and for far too long.
- I wouldn't have hesitated to shoot her, too, if she had continued to bother us.
- Liar.
Your words died in a hot breath, his fingers already making their way through your panties, sliding along your warm pussy. You guessed the smile that distorted his mouth as you discovered the extent of what he provoked in you.
- I need to fuck you. He whispers in a harsh, trembling voice into the crook of your neck. I only think about this. Only you and it messes up my priorities.
- Do it, then.
- Before, I want you to be at my mercy.
You giggled. It was out of the question to give him anything, yet his fingers caressing you made you less certain of your convictions. Your hips rocked to his rhythm and he was heavily satisfied with what he felt.
- So wet. So impatient. How long has it been, huh? How many times have you been touched while waiting for this moment.
- Too much.
Your hands moved to your back, reaching for the buckle of his belt, stroking the obvious erection in the seat of his pants. He wasn't going to bring you to your knees, at his mercy, without paying the consequences. You needed it, anyway.
Need to feel him inside you. Need it to make you forget the horror of the world in which you were moving. Because you didn't like reality, it was unbearable for you to think about the future that this disgusting world had in store for you. The waves his fingers sent through your body were so violent that you looked for support to stay upright. But he didn't see it that way: you had no right to stop petting him without asking his opinion. So, holding you firmly with one hand, he grabbed the second to invite you to continue.
-You can't just collapse like that, sugar. Not now, not after what you promise me.
The orgasm he provoked in you tore your soul apart. There was no way Lucy could have missed the sound of your voice, no matter where she had taken refuge to escape it. She heard it and it would probably haunt her for the rest of her life.
For a brief moment, he pulled away from you to turn you around to face him, taking off your pants, probably tearing a few sections of them in the process. Then, lifting you up to allow you to wrap your feverish legs around his waist, he pinned you firmly against the table.
His mouth crashed onto yours, devouring all of the air that tried to escape your lips. You bit him almost to blood, desperately, greedily. It was like your life depended on his mouth and what he was going to do to you. He devours you without respite, crushing my lips in a destructive kiss, then kissing your face, your neck, your jaw and your closed eyelids. His erect penis tickled the entrance to your vagina and this sensation made you lose the little reason you had left.
- Please. Please…
- Please what? He slowly rocked his hips to let his cock slide down the length of your sex.
-Please fuck me.
He laughed nervously. He had managed to get what he wanted. Like always. He had you and all your passion. You had never had to beg anyone in your life, but the world had changed and you had met Cooper Howard, two parameters which alone had transformed you greatly.
- I won't be delicate.
- Go ahead, I won't be the one begging you to spare me.
You felt dizzy because your body was calling for it. His hand came to rest against your throat as he stood up in front of you, dominant and impatient. You knew this was going to be exactly how you both wanted it to be, like animals, in a dingy old shed while some poor girl waited for you outside. Your bodies finally collided with rare violence, extracting a grunt of satisfaction and pain from you. His hips pounded against yours like his life depended on it, his fingers still firmly placed on your clit.
It was too much, too much.
Him, his gaze which never stopped contemplating your pleasure.
What he provoked in you. The expression he wore. You could no longer contain the slightest sound emanating from your mouth, so as if to save what was left of you, you brought a fist to your lips, muffling every cry that tried to escape you. But that wasn't how he saw things. Still pounding into you, he removed his fingers to grab your wrist, pulling it away from your mouth to pin it firmly to the table.
- Let it be heard. I want her to understand that she must never interfere between us again, understand?
You no longer had enough strength to speak, but your head was bobbing up and down frantically. You didn't care anymore if she heard anything, at this point in the situation the desire that was swelling throughout was so depraved that you were ready for him to fuck you in front of his eyes.
He was close, you could feel it in the way his hips met yours. It was painful and delicious at the same time, but there was no way you were going to cum without him. Not without seeing the orgasm distort the features of his face. And he didn't resist much longer, exploding in a deep, throaty pleasure, propelling you with him away from all this mess.
Then silence.
A moment of floating in which you slowly let yourself be drawn into. He had gotten what he wanted.
You too.
He stepped aside, giving you the chance to stand up before adjusting his hat on his head again. You glance at each other before guessing the satisfied smile that appears on his lips, the situation made you want to laugh.
Nothing was less certain than the fact that Lucy was still able to look you in the eyes now.
148 notes · View notes
Text
The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Knackered & Insatiable
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes warning: MDNI, mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood, SMUT Note: I cannot believe how much you guys LOVED Part 1!!! I've written three pieces in my life (check out my Ao3 for my other works lol) and none of them have ever gotten this much of a response. Thank you so much for your praise and overwhelming support, it really means a lot to me as a first-time writer :) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
Ghost swirled the drink in his glass before lifting his mask up just enough to sip his whiskey. The team had insisted on getting to know his wife before they returned to England and Ghost “stole her away forever”, as they’d put it. He knew damn well, now that she’d met everyone, there wasn’t a chance in Hell she would let that happen. And while he may put on a good show of being a grump about it, secretly, he was glad. It was almost nice to see her mingling with his frie–team over a few drinks (hers being a bottle of water) and a football (she would call it a “soccer ball”, but he digressed). 
He watched Soap, Gaz, and Freyja bobbing around the open space, kicking the ball back and forth, occasionally playing keep away. Gaz slid at her in an attempt to knock the ball loose from her control, which she swiftly countered and danced around him, laughing maniacally as the man shouted at her in protest. His lips tugged at the corner in a grin, shaking his head lightly at her antics.
She’d dressed down into her standard t-shirt but kept her boots and uniform pants on, her hair tied back out of her face. Without her gear or outerwear, even her oversized shirt, her bump protruded slightly where the shirt tucked into her belt. He’d been told that every person carried differently; her bump was small, due in part to her exercise regimen. God, he’d missed her.
He’d even been gracious enough to allow her time to gossip with his teammates, spilling (some) details about their relationship. How they met (work), who made the first move (classified), how Simon proposed (he didn’t); so gracious that he let a few embarrassing remarks slip past his radar.
Just a few.
“Did you know he has stretch marks–”
He whistled through his teeth. “Oi, watch it,” he warned, jerking his hand in front of his neck as to say ‘cut it’.
“But the stretch marks, Si!”
Ghost’s eyes traced her movements, wild hands pointing at her thighs, hips, underarms, and knees. He chastised her with a warning sound, and the three huddled together in whispers, no doubt continuing to quietly discuss topics they shouldn’t. He had a feeling he would be seeing a lot more of his fellow soldiers outside of the base. They eventually continued their game again.
Price took a seat next to him on the bench. Ghost said nothing. “How far along are you now?”
He took a deep breath, calming himself. Bold of Price to ask about the child he willingly endangered. “Fourteen weeks.”
John’s head bobbed, and he leaned back against the building behind them with his arms crossed. “Still struggling with the morning sickness, I see?”
That much was obvious. “The doctor said it should clear up soon. Usually only lasts ‘til ‘bout now,” he explained, still not meeting his eyes, choosing to follow his wife.
Silence passed between the two, the chirps of native bugs and shenanigans from the team filling the air.
The weight of his upper body on his forearms became uncomfortable, and Ghost sat back too. He sighed through his nose, keeping his sight forward. “I didn’t ask you not to call her for this job as your Lieutenant. I asked as your friend.”
John hesitated, mulling over the fact as he carefully chose his next words. He didn’t come up with much. “I know. I’m sorry.” What else was there to say?
Nothing.
Ghost nodded once, satisfied, and threw back the remains of his drink. The most important thing was that she was okay now. He knew the Captain was desperate for another player on that mission, and he was confident Price wouldn’t do it again.
Price seemed to understand that he had been forgiven. “Want another?”
“Negative, sir. She’ll lose steam in a minute.”
Sure enough, as predicted, she gave up her game and relented the ball to Kyle. Soap cheered with his arms in the air, sloshing his beer a bit with the motion. Freyja looked over her shoulder at him and raised a brow, eyes shifting toward their building. He acknowledged her request as she wished the others a good night's rest, rising to follow her to bed. Ghost fell into step a few paces behind her when a sharp whistle caught his ear. He turned his shoulder to look, and saw Soap with his hand out, gripping an imaginary leash with his tongue out as Gaz walked ahead of him like a dog.
He flipped them off and continued behind her.
~*~
The minute they returned to his quarters, Freyja had thrown herself down onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, not even bothering to strip out of her uniform. Ghost took her idea and, in his uniform, carefully straddled her waist. He offered her each of his hands, and she immediately went to work removing his gloves, smiling warmly at him. She gingerly traced the outline of his lips through his mask, a questioning look in her eyes. He accepted and tilted his chin up, allowing her to slip under the edge of the mask, drawing it up and off his head, leaving him with just the black paint on his face. Freyja plopped it on the headboard above them with his gloves.
“There he is.” Her cheeks were warm and rosy from the dry heat of the area, and all of the jogging she did outside.
“Hi, sweethear’.”
She tugged him down by his blonde locks at the nape of his neck, capturing his lips in hers. He dropped his weight onto his forearms, keeping away from her belly while his lips moved slowly against hers. A month had passed since he saw her, let alone touched her. However, when she nipped fiercely at his bottom lip, pulling a soft moan from Simon–
“Love,” he groaned, forcing himself to break away, as much as it pained him. “I don’t have it in me right now. I’m absolutely knackered.”
Freyja turned up a brow at him. “Wow. I’ve never heard that one before. Are you okay?” she asked, rubbing her thumbs against his cheekbones.
His head leaned into her touch, melting in the palms of her hands. The effect she had on him was something he’d never experienced before and was what drew him to the soldier. Quick and cunning, skilled and strong, but also impossibly loving and soft and gentle. Nobody had ever shown him the kind of attention she did, and he found himself craving it when they would inevitably separate for deployment. 
He didn’t want to argue with his wife again after not seeing each other for so long, but the pit in Simon’s chest wasn’t budging either. Simon sighed and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I was serious when I said I’m pissed.”
“Simon, I know I shouldn’t have–”
“No, just– let me talk.” He brushed a loose hair from her forehead. “I…I don’t ask much of you. I asked – no, told you to do one thing. To stay home and protect our baby.”
Her brows pinched together, maintaining eye contact with him. “Simon, I can take care of myself,” she whispered, a bit confused.
“I know you can. I’ve seen you in the field, seen what you can do. You’re capable of slaughtering dozens of men at a time without breaking a sweat.” Simon rolled his shoulders to move off of her, laying on his back to stare at the ceiling. He rarely got so upset with her, if ever. Even rarer that he became a stuttering mess that couldn’t string a sentence together properly. He hated the feeling. “Why did you do tha’? What if you’d gotten hurt? What if someone comes after you when I’m not around? Wh–”
“Stop. You’re spiraling again.” Freyja turned onto her side, worried eyes studying his features. He’d picked up the habit since the pregnancy tests (seven of them to be exact) turned positive. “I–I know I messed up. I’m so, so sorry, Si. I didn’t…didn’t want to hurt you. I promise I won’t go out again. I just–” Her eyes watered, and she dragged the heel of her palm against the dampness on her cheek. “I’m h-having such a hard time. I love this baby, but I feel so–so useless just sitting at home.”
Oh, sweetheart… “Budge up,” Simon muttered, his voice gravelly as he tapped her thigh and scooched down a bit himself. His right arm slipped under her hip while the other tugged her shirt up to reveal their growing baby. Simon smiled softly at the sight and peppered kisses all over her bump. He eventually nuzzled into her chest and draped her leg over his hip before wrapping that arm around her waist. “I’m sorry I ‘aven’t been round. I know how much you miss work. But just look at this precious thing you’re making, Frey; you’re creating a whole person in there. My strong, drop-dead gorgeous wife and beautiful son–”
“Or daughter.”
Simon’s deep chuckle vibrated against her chest and belly, warmth blooming there. “Right. Or daughter,” he pressed another kiss to her chest. “You’re the strongest person I know. Just you watch. I’ll be home for a good long while now; we can work something out with Price, and get you some desk duty so you’re not sat at home twiddlin’ your thumbs all day. Keep you busy, yeah?”
Freyja nodded in agreement, smiling down at her husband. “Okay,” she croaked, sniffling a bit.
“Good. Now go to sleep, love. I really am knackered.”
“I love you, Simon.”
“I love you too, Frey.”
~*~
Soap rapped his knuckles against the door for his Lieutenant’s quarters after (again) failing to locate Captain Riley in hers. He waited for a breath and was about to knock again when he heard an affirming grunt from the other side of the door.
“Aye, if I see any naked bodies–” He poked his head into the room, finding the two tangled up in each other. Fully clothed, thankfully. He barely caught the bare strip of Simon’s cheek from his angle. He immediately piped down when he realized she was still sleeping. “Lieutenant?”
“Wot?” he grumbled, not moving from his comfortable position. Soft and warm.
John remained silent, eyes shifting between Simon and the sleeping body next to him.
“What do you need, Sergeant.”
“I don’t want to wake ‘er, sir,” he whispered in a hushed voice. He truly didn’t want to face the consequences of waking a pregnant Riley. He was, however, less worried about the wrath of his Lieutenant and more about his other half.
Simon turned his chin up slightly, focusing on her steady, soft breaths and even heartbeat. In the first weeks of her pregnancy, before leaving for deployment, she had taken to sleeping like a rock. Obviously, that fact was still true. He settled back into her t-shirt.
“She’s fine. Speak.”
Soap hesitated but took his word for it. “Ah, Captain said we’re good to go. Wheels up in thirty.”
He grunted again, still unmoving. ”Alright. We’ll be ready.”
He could sense the Scot still stuck in his doorway, continuing to disturb his peace, and his irritation grew. “Quit hoverin’, Johnny. I said we’ll be ready. Get out,” he all but growled.
“Sorry, sir.” Soap turned to leave but stopped himself. “Almost fo’got, wanted to give ya’s a warnin’, it’s pishin’ it doon out there.”
His patience had grown thin and irritability impossibly higher. “Speak. English.”
Soap’s mouth opened with a turned lip, just about to quip a snarky retort–
“It’s raining fuckin’ hard.”
His eyes blew wide, jaw dangled loosely, staring at the previously silent form the soft, sleepy voice came.
“Thank you, love.”
“I—How— Beg your pardon?” John stuttered, pointing between Freyja and Ghost in utter shock.
Her grip on her husband tightened with a groan, eyes fluttering as she tried to adjust to the morning light. “What? What did I do?” she mumbled, curving her back inward to stretch, her neck popping.
“But–I don’t– You know Scots?”
“Oh. I suppose. Cannae ge’ the accent righ’, though,” she said, exhibiting what was indeed her very poor attempt at a Scottish accent.
Still, he gawked at them, unmoving. He eventually snapped out of his reverie, a wicked smile creeping onto his face. “Jesus, I’m sorry Lt. but I think I’m gettin’ hard,” he teased, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth.
Simon blindly reached for the mask above his head, scooting up a bit for a quick kiss before slipping it on. The black war paint around his eyes remained, but more worn and smudged with sleep. The Sergeant Oooh’d in the background. “Johnny, what did I tell you ‘bout flirting wit’ my wife?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed in a sitting position.
Freyja followed him, sitting up and pressing her chest against Simon’s back. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her palms across his sternum and abdomen, fingers dipping into the ridges of his muscles. “Simon, you really shouldn’t make threats you don’t intend to keep,” she pressed her lips against the warm skin at the back of his neck. He hummed softly, leaning back into her.
“Who said I won’t?”
“Alright, alright, I’m not tryna cock-block,” Soap threw his hands up in defense, backing out of the doorway. “I’m goin’. Tarmac in thirty.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the couple alone again. Simon moved to stand but was immediately restricted by her arms and legs as she whined. “Can I help you?” he asked, settling back down and glancing at her over his shoulder.
Freyja rose to her knees and tugged at his shirt, untucking it from his waistband. “Maybe,” she said against the side of his throat. “Depends.”
“On?”
“Are you Simon,” her fingers pressed into his waist. She licked a stripe on his thrumming pulse before closing her mouth over the spot, sucking generously. Simon hissed through his teeth and dropped his head against her shoulder. “Or Ghost?”
“God, you are insatiable.”
“Only when you don’t give me what I want.”
“And wha’s that?”
“Been a while since you fucked me stupid, yeah?”
A deep growl tore from him, and he whipped around, pouncing on her. The balaclava and skull plate flew across the room. His lips crushed hers, teeth and tongues smashing together. Rough fingers wrapped around her throat, holding her down to the mattress as he leaned over her. “Your British is fuckin’ shit.”
“Mmm, what’re you gonna do about it?” she challenged, smirking against his mouth. She loved instigating him, even more so now that her hormones were through the roof. The last week at home had been almost unbearable. 
Freyja’s eyelids flickered at the sudden pressure, not enough to cut off oxygen but enough to effectively shut her up. She felt her walls flutter at the sensation, a puddle forming in her underwear.
“Good girl,” Simon practically purred, dragging his lips down to the underside of her chin, nipping at the skin, followed by a soothing lick at the affected spot. His free hand crawled down her body, rising and falling over the various curves before stopping at her pants. “Is this what you want?”
She nodded vigorously, so he swiftly unfastened the fatigues and dove his hand in. “Mmm, so needy for me. I’ve barely even started, sweetheart,” he slipped two fingers through her soaked lips, sucking a bruise at her throat. He ground his aching bulge against the edge of the bed, searching for some relief. Simon swirled tight but lazy circles around her clit with her collected juices, getting a muffled moan. “Like that?”
“Mhm…”
“Use your words, Frey.”
“F-Fuck– Need you, Si, n-now.”
He cocked his head to the side, releasing her throat to unbutton and unzip his pants. “Already? I’m feelin’ a bit, peckish love. Not gonna let me have a taste?” He slid down to his knees, nibbling down over her t-shirt and pulling the zipper of her pants.
“NO!” She shouted, and his eyes shot up to hers with a brow quirked. “N-No, I need you to fuck me. Please, Simon,” she begged, her voice desperate.
“Fast and hard, eh? A’right.” Simon stood, then hooked his hands behind her knees, yanked her to the edge of the bed, and flipped her over, her feet firmly planted on the floor. “Careful,” he pressed softly against her bump, keeping her stomach off the bed.
The sniper growled at him, starting to get frustrated. “Simon, I swear to fucking God– Ah!” she squeaked when a much firmer hand shoved her face into the mattress.
“Naughty girl… I’m getting there. Be patient,” he ordered. He waited until she showed her understanding with another sharp nod. Simon finally pulled her pants and panties down to her knees. “Fuckin’ Hell,” he moaned, admiring the view as he dropped his pants enough to pull himself out, giving himself a few strokes. “Who’s this cunt belong to?” he asked, dragging the tip through her folds.
“You, it's all yours!”
Eager to please, Simon rested one palm on the small of her back as the other slowly eased himself into her. His head dropped back, unable to help the soft moans and whimpers at her walls around him. “F-fuck, never get sick of this sweet cunt,” he stilled himself in her when he bottomed out. “Not even in you for a second ‘n I already wanna cum.”
She pulled her hips forward, desperate for him to move and, as promised, fuck her senseless. Bruising fingers gripped the extra flesh at her hip with a groan. “Naughty,” he repeated, drawing out of her to the tip before diving back in just as slowly. “Maybe if ya beg some more, I’ll give it to ya.”
Freyja whined as his cock dragged painstakingly slowly along her insides. “P-please, please fuck me, Simon. I need your cock so bad. I’m desperate,” she begged, her hands shaking as she gripped the scratchy blanket under her with white knuckles. “Been w-waiting so long for you to come home, please!”
Simon twitched inside her, his wife’s begging scratching just the right spot in his brain. “Ngh, fuck Frey.” He slammed into her, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he started a steady pace.
“God, Simon, ‘s so good–”
“Look at me,” he said, turning her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Say it again…My name.”
Her smirk almost immediately wiped off her face when he brushed her clit again, eliciting another breathy, gasped moan. “Simon!”
“Mmm, again.”
“S-Simon…fuck!”
“Cum for me, love, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you–”
She stared into his eyes, the sounds of his hips slapping her hips, the wet sounds of her sex thrumming between them, and her heavy pants thrumming between them until she finally pulsed around him, her pitch kicking up an octave. “Ah, Simon, I-I’m cumming, fuck!”
“Jesus fuck–! Y/N, Y/N,” he whined, choking on her name as the tight coil inside him snapped and spilled into her, his hips stuttering. Simon’s chest rested against her back when he dropped his hand next to her for support. He stilled, echoing her name over and over while he pumped her full of his cum. She was grinning back at him over her shoulder and dragging her nails up and down his forearm, humming at the warm pool inside her.
Simon slid his free hand under the back of her shirt, stroking between her shoulder blades. They stood unmoving, panting, staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. His spend was starting to creep out around him, turning into milky drops threatening to break free and fall to the floor. He could stay like that forever, her gaze holding his as he warmed his cock in her–
“Hey Ghost–”
THUNK
The tip of a black combat knife sank into the soft wood of the door frame, a breath away from his nose. Kyle stopped short of passing through the threshold, the door only open a crack. “Bad time, got it,” he said, his voice cracking a bit before the door clicked shut again. “Sorry!” his voice muffled by the door between them before his footsteps scurried away.
Freyja giggled and pressed her face into the mattress, attempting to stifle her laughter.
“Not funny.”
“Really? I thought it was a little bit funny, Lieutenant,” she said, wiggling her hips against his. Simon’s breath hitched, and both hands shot back to stop the movement.
“Ey, none’a that. Be a good girl or you won’t be getting a thing out of me later,” he threatened, raising a blonde brow in challenge. She pouted up at him in return but nodded with a disgruntled Fine, slowly leaning forward until he popped out of her with a groan. The woman eased herself up until she stood fully and turned to face him, standing on her tiptoes to reward him with a sweet, lazy kiss. When Simon was least expecting, she swiped a finger along his dick, causing him to jerk at his sensitivity, collecting their mixed fluids before popping the digit into her mouth. “You’re a minx, y’know that?”
“Mhm.”
“Hn.” He pulled her panties and underwear back up for her, fingers lovingly caressing their growing baby when he went to button them again. He wasn’t proud to admit that he hadn’t reacted well to the initial news of his wife’s pregnancy. Simon had never wanted children or a family before her, given his experiences with his own as a child. The last thing he wanted was to turn out like his father, an abusive, mean drunk with a violent streak and an inclination for scaring the pants off little Simon. 
That all changed at their first ultrasound. The soft thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoed off the walls of the small room and burned into his mind on a constant playback. His baby. Their baby.
Mine. 
He supposed the second-trimester hormones were a nice touch, too.
taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @lethalchiralium, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy
Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.
3K notes · View notes