#to be cradled. and spun around with joy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loveissupernatural · 2 years

Text

**read chapter 1 here** - **read chapter 2 here** - **read chapter 3 here** - **read chapter 4 here**

Morpheus/Dream x fem!reader

In Your Dreams

Chapter 5

“Life is a sleep and love is its dream; and you have lived if you have loved.”

-Alfred de Musset

The following day felt longer than you would have liked. You were anxious for the sun to set, and with it, the answers that would quench the fire of burning curiosity in your mind. Why was the heart of The Dreaming rotting away? Why were you able to escape the borders of your dream and travel there, and why was Lucienne so obviously disturbed by it? Where was Dream? But, most importantly, why did you feel the need to be there in the first place? Why couldn’t you come to terms with this entire experience for the incredible magical adventure that it was and just let it go?

Even though you were filled with more questions than ever before, you could feel in the deepest recesses of your soul that the solutions to all of them lay in The Dreaming.

Your enthusiasm to return to the palace caused you to have trouble falling asleep for the first hour that night. The castle was your new Burgess house – mysteries hid there that tickled at your insides, that whispered to you in the darkness of the night to uncover them.

Finally, after tossing and turning, your eyes fluttered closed and stayed that way. Shifting shapes whirled behind your eyelids, flitting from corner to corner, until they gently settled into the outline of a horizon. A warm sun began to rise and filtered light onto the dark line, illuminating the scene for you. You instantly recognized the scent of poppies on the breeze.

That fragrant wind whipped through your hair lovingly, like the soft fingers of a curious child, swirling around your form. You spun with it, arms outstretched, grinning from ear to ear. How you wished with everything within your heart that this place was real, that this is where you could spend the waking hours of your life.

You opened your shining eyes to see the parting gate of horn and ivory before you. You hadn’t even needed to start the journey within the confines of your own dream this time – you were already here. Your path of glinting black and gold marble was still below your feet, humming with welcoming warmth.

You couldn’t contain your happiness when the dividing gates revealed a view to you that had shifted from the night before. The stretches of murky water were trickling into a singular crystal river, sparkling blue and immense. Where unforgiving rock and dark sand had suffocated the landscape, beautiful blades of grass and stretches of green ferns were beginning to emerge. You recognized your favorite flower, blooming white poppies, dancing in the breeze on the riverside. An enormous bridge was sliding into place over the river, cradled by gargantuan stone hands that surfaced from the crystal water.

Creatures were returning, beautiful and terrifying alike, flying through the milky blue sky and snaking through the growing grass around your feet. The air was no longer choked with an eerie silence; insects buzzed, water rushed, citizens of The Dreaming were laughing.

Life.

You followed the massive bridge of stone to the center, where the once-crumbling palace was being rebuilt in the gleam of glorious sunlight. Fallen walls and castle turrets were reassembling themselves brick by brick with meticulous accuracy, as if someone had hit rewind. Rusting spires were shedding their coat of orange muck and shining gold. Magnificent archways were mending their own cracks and rising tall, transforming from ashy grey to glimmering white.

The heart of The Dreaming was returning to its former glory. Pure joy blossomed in your chest like the rosebuds of a vine that was bending around the pillars of the bridge.

You walked into the castle entryway, still grinning like a fool, as you looked up and watched every shard of broken glass and every crushed stone float into the air and return to their homes. A beautiful stained-glass window was mending directly above your head. The colorful fragments gradually slid together to form the image of a Pegasus, and as the last piece fell into place, it sprang to life, neighing triumphantly and beating its wings.

“Not too shabby, huh?” came a proud voice from behind you.

You spun to see a tall scarecrow-like figure with the head of a pumpkin approaching you. His face was the cut of a jack-o-lantern, crooked mouth pulling up at the corner in a tilted smile. He stopped by your side and put his branch-like hands on his thin hips, gazing up appreciatively at the work of glass art. You tried not to stare too rudely at him.

You turned your head back toward the magnificent window, now casting rays of colored sunlight onto you and your Halloween-like companion.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” you replied truthfully.

He grunted in agreement, then looked down at you. His triangular eyes narrowed.

“Hey, ya know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around these parts before,” he said. “You new?”

Your lips upturned at his gutteral New York accent. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Lotsa new folks all around this joint today,” he said, shaking his large head in amusement. “Guess that’s what happens when ya hammer a few nails and splash on a fresh coat a’ paint—everyone comes back to tha neighborhood.”

“It does look pretty inviting,” you agreed, turning to face him. You stuck out your hand. “I’m Y/N.”

The pumpkin-headed man stuck out his wooden hand and shook yours firmly. “I’m Mervyn, but everybody calls me Merv.”

“Hi, Merv.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Well, considerin’ you bein’ new and all, why don’t I give ya a bit of a tour? It wouldn’t be my first one today.”

“I would love that,” you beamed, resisting the urge to clasp your hands together like a schoolgirl. Merv nodded and turned, motioning with his stick-like hand.

“Well, then, c'mon.”

He walked like a puppet would without strings, you thought, as you followed behind him. You struggled to keep up with his long strides. Mervyn led you through a hallway that had one wall built while the opposite was still floating together. One piece of stone almost hit him in the head on its way back to its appointed position, and he cursed at it.

Once through the hallway, you turned into a winding staircase that glinted with intricate gold. As you followed Merv’s spindly legs up the flight, you appreciated the view to your left of an assembling tower. After a few more steps, you reached the top.

“First things first, here’s our pride and joy,” Mervyn announced grandiosely, spreading out his arms for dramatic emphasis. Your jaw dropped. “This is the library.”

The room was warm wood, cozy sunlight, and beckoning shelves that stretched on for as far as the eye could see. Books were everywhere, of every size, color, and age. You ran your finger along a nearby shelf, tickling their spines. Some looked thousands of years old, others as if they’d come off the press minutes before.

“How many books are in here?” you asked in wonder, turning in a full circle to better take in the view.

“A helluva lot,” Mervyn answered slyly. “To tell you the truth, I’m not the one you should ask. Lucienne’s the librarian in charge.”

At the sound of her name, the woman that you had met the night before emerged from behind a nearby cascade of bookshelves. Her eyes smiled at Mervyn, but then they settled onto you.

Lucienne’s face paled.

“You’ve returned,” she breathed, striding toward the two of you with a haste in her step, “and so soon.”

“Oh, you’ve met before?” Mervyn asked, eyes shifting between the librarian and yourself.

“We have,” you told him, trying to make sure your grin didn’t turn into a grimace.

“Just last night, in fact,” Lucienne added. Her perceptive gaze wandered over your nervous form.

“Last night?” Merv repeated incredulously. He motioned over his shoulder. “But the boss hadn’t even started rebuilding yet! How’d she—?”

“A question we all would like to know,” Lucienne answered, fixing you with a penetrating stare over the top of her round glasses. She clasped her hands behind her back expectantly.

“Hey, I’d like to know too,” you said defensively. You crossed your arms, but then dropped them to your sides, not wanting to come off as defiant. “I’ve already told you everything that I know.”

“Lucienne, who is this?” Mervyn asked curiously, pointing a thumb at you.

The librarian sighed heavily but her eyes softened. Her tone was gentle, appreciative. “This, Mervyn, is the young lady that released Lord Morpheus from his prison.”

“No kiddin’?! That was you?!” he questioned unabashedly, shock evident in his wide eye sockets.

You shrugged, not a fan of the intense attention. “Well, yeah… but it’s really not that big of a deal…”

“Not that big of a deal?” Mervyn repeated, voice dripping in astonishment. “Are you kiddin’ me? This place would still be fallin’ apart if it wasn’t for you!”

“That’s why everything looked the way that it did the last time I came?” you asked Lucienne. “Because Dream wasn’t here?”

She nodded somberly. “He was captured for nearly a century and was unable to return. Everything was dissipating, disappearing… it cannot exist without him. He is The Dreaming.”

“But it’s been over a week since I helped him escape,” you said, confused. “Where has he been all of that time?”

“Lord Morpheus was traveling the realms on a quest to reobtain his tools.”

Something hopeful fluttered in your chest. Those nights where you’d been calling out to him and he hadn’t shown himself… it wasn’t because he was ignoring you, it was because he wasn’t even there in the first place.

“Look, uh… I hate to interrupt this conversation,” Merv cut in, scratching the back of his pumpkin head uncomfortably, “but… shouldn’t we tell the boss that she’s here?”

Joy sparked in your chest at his words.

Lucienne hesitated. “There’s still so many questions that remain unanswered. We don’t know how or why she is able to leave her dreams, let alone create a path from their border and through the waters to the palace.”

Mervyn didn’t have eyebrows, but if he did, you were sure he would be raising them in surprise.

“I didn’t have to use the path this time,” you told her, biting your lip. “I just kind of started at the gate.”

“You materialized here, in the heart of The Dreaming?” she clarified, voice filled with bewilderment and cut with that undertone of concern again.

“That ain't normal,” Mervyn shook his head.

“It appears that each time you fall asleep, you are somehow able bypass steps that you’ve previously taken,” she said thoughtfully, almost to herself. “You’re no longer appearing within the boundaries of your own dreams.”

An excited smile pulled at your lips. “Cool.”

“No, no, not ‘cool’,” Lucienne admonished, turning from you and Mervyn to start rifling through a stack of books resting on a nearby table. “This behavior is quite abnormal, even for a lucid dreamer such as yourself.”

“Lucid dreamer, ‘ay?” Merv inquired, crossing his reedy arms over his chest and leaning back against the shelf behind him. “Not too many a’ you guys left no more.”

“Really?”

“They’ve become exceedingly rare,” Lucienne confirmed, finally picking out a book from the pile. “Consistently lucid dreamers existed more commonly thousands of years ago. Now, well…” her eyes roamed over your confused face “…you’re the first I’ve seen in, at least, a millennium.”

“You always been able to do that?” Mervyn asked you. “Change stuff around?”

“Since I can remember,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair at the ornate table in front of you and sitting. “I’d sleep the day away just to keep dreaming.”

“But roaming through the dreamscape, you said last night that you had only just started?” the librarian asked, peering over the edge of the thick book in her hands. She joined you at the table.

Something caught your eye. The book that Lucienne had plucked from the bunch was bound in black with two golden words emblazoned on the cover: your first and last name.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s that?” you questioned enthusiastically, scooting your chair closer to her. “My name’s on there!”

A proud smile creeped onto the head librarian’s face. “This library contains every story ever written and unwritten, finished or unfinished, everything that has been and will never be.” She tapped the hard cover of your book with a manicured nail. “And this is yours.”

“Wow,” you sighed, resting your chin on your palm. Lucienne’s smile grew at your awestruck expression. “So, what all is in there about me?”

“Everything,” she answered simply.

You gulped. “Like, everything everything?”

She laughed. It was a harmonious sound.

“Relax, even your most embarrassing of moments pale in comparison to many of the things I read every day,” she assured you, eyes twinkling with amusement. She became serious again. “I thought it advantageous to find your book after your unexpected visit last night. I had to be sure that you weren’t a threat to The Dreaming.”

Your smile fell. “I’m – I’m not. I don’t want to be a threat to anybody.”

Lucienne sighed, expression trickling with pity.

“I know those aren’t your intentions. But the fact remains that your recent abilities are those that no mortal should possess.”

“Don’t worry, kid,” Merv said, standing from his perch against the bookcase to lean against your table instead. He grinned crookedly at you. “We’ll get this figured out. If anyone can sniff out what’s goin’ on here, it’s Lucienne.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding. The thought of being some kind of danger to this beautiful place rattled you. All you had wanted was to find Morpheus, to make sure everything turned out okay after you released him. After all, being imprisoned against your will for a hundred years had to be traumatic for anyone, right? Even the King of Dreams?

You had more selfish reasons, too, but those would stay private.

Suddenly, a voice called out.

It echoed into the large room, gentle but authoritative, soft but commanding respect. With a wave of warmth washing over your skin, you knew that you would recognize that beautiful sound anywhere.

“Lucienne,” his voice called, “I believe it is time we review the findings from the census.”

All three of you froze in place.

The King of Dreams emerged from the nearest aisle, graceful stride filled with purpose. He donned all black, a sweeping floor length coat flowing behind him as he walked, regal. His alabaster skin almost seemed to glow against his dark attire. His hair was as black as his clothing, still so gloriously messy and wild.

He was in his element, thriving and flourishing in a way that radiated from his very being. This was his domain.

Morpheus’s icy blue eyes moved from Lucienne to Mervyn. Then, they locked onto you.

Your breath hitched as you stood, chair screeching back noisily. That feeling, that delicious humming in your bones, it was different here, more alive. It was starlight sparking in your spine. He stood at least ten feet away, impossibly still, but you could feel his presence as strongly as you would if he were inches from you. Time stood still.

A myriad of emotions flickered through his fathomless eyes at the sight of you, none of which you could place, but whatever they were made the air in the library thick. Your eyes drank in his face and his roamed yours, penetrating but swirling with something soft.

Mervyn cleared his throat uncomfortably. It just then occurred to you that you had no idea how long the two of you had been standing like that, staring at each other.

The sound seemed to bring Dream back to himself.

“Lucienne. Mervyn. Leave us,” he commanded quietly, but he didn’t look at them. His intense gaze never once broke from yours.

Their replies came quickly and in hushed tones, almost as if embarrassed.

“Of course, sir.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

They scurried away with heads down. As they reached the exit to the library, you could hear Mervyn mutter, “Well, talk about some tension...”

Morpheus blinked at the comment, but you didn’t miss the almost-imperceptible smirk that tugged at one corner of his lips. He was still staring at you.

With a smile that revealed every whisper of your heart, you broke the silence.

“Hi.”

Dream took a slow step toward you, measured. Then another. The curtain of dark lashes framing his endless eyes fluttered as he took you in, gaze roaming to your feet and back up again.

“Hello.” His voice was velvet.

You swallowed, begging the blush that you could feel creeping up your neck to go away. Couldn’t you have at least one interaction with him without your body betraying you? You felt like a fucking teenager.

“You, um, never answered my question,” you said, taking a step toward him as well. One of his dark brows rose. “You put me to sleep first. Rude, by the way.”

His smirk wasn’t nearly as well-hidden now.

“My deepest apologies. And what question would that be?”

You took another step closer, still not breaking eye contact. You clasped the back of a chair with one hand to ground yourself.

“You’re… you are alright, then?” you asked quietly. For the smallest of moments, his eyes betrayed everything. He was touched by your concern.

“You have journeyed through The Dreaming, to the heart of my realm, simply to ask after my well-being?”

His voice held an undercurrent of emotion, but he attempted to hide it with the slightest lilt of tease.

A playful glint sparkled in your eye. “Well, I did play spy for over a month just to get into that basement. What’s a desert and an ocean or two?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes was shuttered by the weight of your words. It seemed that once Morpheus got past the initial surprise of seeing you there, the same realization dawned on him that concerned Lucienne.

“You traveled through the outer lands of The Dreaming,” he stated, brows furrowed in unease. “You left the confines of your dream and found yourself here?”

The general trepidation from everyone surrounding your ability to leave your dream world disturbed you. You saw it as a gift, but it seemed to be one that you were not meant to have. You let out a sigh.

“I created a path,” you told him. “It took me through the desert and through an ocean… and then I ended up on that dock out there.” You tilted your chin toward the windows. “The path ended at the gates, and when I touched them, they opened. Then I came here.”

Morpheus was close now, taking in every word you that escaped your lips with rapt attention. His powerful stare was not angry, but perplexed. His eyes were swimming with anxious confusion.

“How is this possible?” he whispered to himself. His pale hand rose, ever so slowly, to ghost the line of your jaw. The touch was barely there, so very brief, but it left tingling chills in its wake. He examined your every feature, searching for the answer. “For you are not a vortex.”

For a moment, you’d forgotten how to speak, mind still reeling from the fact that he had just touched you, and that it felt so indescribable. His fingers had barely brushed an inch of skin, but that starlight sparkling in your spine had overtaken every nerve ending.

“Vortex?” you asked when you found your voice. Your eyebrows came together. “What’s a vortex?”

To your dismay, Dream stepped away from you. He turned toward the table where you were previously sitting with Lucienne and Mervyn, delicate fingers flipping through the many volumes that were stacked over its surface. His hands settled on a red hardback, lifting it so that you could read the gold lettering on the cover.

“Rose Walker,” he replied, face impassive.

At your obvious confusion, Dream stepped back and motioned with a graceful hand toward the archway where Lucienne and Mervyn had disappeared moments before.

“Where are we going?” you asked, walking in the direction he indicated.

Morpheus was tall at your side, right hand ghosting the small of your back, featherlight. The stars in your backbone twinkled at the touch.

His voice was euphonious when he bent to your ear.

“Follow me.”

**read chapter 6 here

2K notes · View notes

darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months

Text

Little Sunshine - A John Shelby/Reader Short Story.

Something a little different to my usual offerings, besties. Enjoy :)

Words - 627

Warnings - Bittersweet story, suitable for all ages but without giving too much away, it's a sad read.

It’s the most heartwarming of sights. In fact, there isn’t much that warms those cockles like witnessing the sight of a father bonding with his newborn. You always knew he’d take to it well, despite him quietly admitting before she was born that he was terrified. Anyone viewing him now, though, they’d see he looks the furthest thing from it.

“You don’t half look like your mom, you know,” he tells her tenderly, the late afternoon sun catching the spun gold of his eyelashes, John sitting upon the windowsill of your bedroom, cradling your daughter to his chest. “Thought you was gonna come out redheaded like your old man here, but nah. Got her hair, ain’t ya?”

She gurgles, and he smiles. Smiles through the tired violet shadows creeping over his eyelids, smiles through the exhaustion, smiles through every ounce of weight he carries. Parenthood will do that to anyone, though. Luckily, there is plenty of help on hand. Looking up, he beams wearily at seeing Polly enter the room, holding a bottle in her grasp.

“Here, just tested it, it’s fine,” she proffers it forth, her hand lovingly moving to your daughter’s head, stroking her peachy skin. “Hello, my little sunshine, hello.” The bond there is strong, Polly being the woman who brought her into the world, who placed her upon your chest, who tried her absolute best all the way through and still remains the pillar of inimitable strength. “Look at her eyes, our John. She’s a beaut.”

He nods, feeling his chest swelling thickly, placing the teat to her lips, your baby latching and beginning to drink. “Ar, she ain’t half a beaut.” He shakes his head, crumbling a little with the emotion of it all, Polly quick to wrap her arm around him and kiss his head. “Dunno how any of this is real.”

“It’s life, love,” she sighs, her maternal hands stroking his hair lovingly. “And she’ll be just fine.”

“Will she?”

She nods sagely. “Of course, she bloody will. She’s a Shelby girl. God made us tough for good reason.” Polly leaves, casting a last glace at the heartwarming scene, the tension in her shoulders still meaning she’s carrying herself a little stiff, looking somehwat out of place from her usual busy bustle.

“Hear that, little’un? You’ll be just fine. If your great aunt Pol says it, then it’s gotta be true. We’re all fine ‘cos of her, and so will you be an’ all. You’ve got her, your uncles, your auntie, and most importantly, your daddy right here.” His eyes then flit across the room, finding you, a tear slipping down his cheek as he cradles your baby a little tighter. “Just wish you still had her, too.”

The image of you he found was your wedding photograph. The sepia images dotted around in frames are all that remains of your visage, because you aren’t there anymore. You exist as ethereal mist, a love lost, but by no means felt any less profoundly by those whom you sadly had to leave behind. It was the greatest joy and the biggest loss, that on the fateful night when the cries of a new baby entered the homestead, a brand-new Shelby arriving, another had to leave.

You’re still there with them all, but hidden, the veil of death swathing you in a blanket of invisible stars, watching from the other side, from a place one day all of them must go. You float through the ether, stroking his cheek, kissing your baby on the head. He pauses for a moment, looking around, and you know he felt you there, the very last glimmer of your essence.

“Wish you were still here, sweetheart.”

You smile, wishing he could see it. “I never left.”

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby x reader #john shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #john shelby #polly gray #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic

102 notes · View notes

rascal-xo · 10 months

Note

Oh for the request! Maybe Graves with his homemaker wife and he returns home to her having missed him so much! 💕 maybe slight hurt comfort or domestic smut whatever you like! I just need more sweet loving Graves ✨😂

Home | Phillip Graves x Wife Reader |

summary: Graves comes home after a long deployment and you get to bask in his presence at home again…

Warnings: FLUFF, Smut, P in V, Language, Smoking

tags: @fiveshelmet @myguiltypleasures21 @madamemelancholysstuff @emmaadlerrichtofen1 @swissy23 @thatchickwiththecamera

A/N: Sorry not proofread, hope you enjoy!! 🩷🩷

Graves stood on the doorstep of his home, his heart pounding with anticipation. It had been a long and grueling deployment.

You two had been apart for what felt like an eternity, and he missed you more than words could express. With a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he inserted the key into the lock.

As the door swung open, Phillip was immediately greeted by the familiar scent of home. A mixture of vanilla and lavender filled the air, instantly putting him at ease. He stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him, and kicked off his boots.

"Y/N?" he called out, his voice filled with both excitement. There was a brief silence before he heard a faint shuffling sound coming from the living room. Curiosity sparked within him as he carefully made his way towards the source of the noise.

As Graves turned the corner, his eyes softened at the sight of you. There, you laid sprawled out on the couch, wearing one of his army t shirts, with your eyes fixed on the television screen. You jumped at the sound of his voice and spun around, a mix of shock and joy written across your face.

"Phillip!" You exclaimed, your eyes widening with disbelief. A mixture of emotions washed over her as tears welled up in her eyes. Without hesitation, you rushed toward him, abandoning the remote control on the couch.

Phillip dropped his duffel bag and opened his arms, eagerly awaiting your embrace. Your bodies collided with a force fueled by months of separation and longing. He held you tight, feeling your warmth and hearing your rapid heartbeat against his chest.

"I can't believe you're home!" You said, your voice trembling with joy as you nestled your head against his shoulder. "You were supposed to be away for another week. How did you manage to come back early?"

He chuckled softly, relishing the feel of you in his arms. "Well, I might have pulled a few strings," he confessed, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "I wanted to surprise you."

A few hours later, the night air enveloped you in a gentle breeze as you stepped out onto the deck, freshly showered and dressed in his t shirt.

The soft glow of the moon illuminated the surroundings, casting a tranquil aura over the scene.

As you approached the deck, you noticed Phillip standing there, his back leaning against the railing, a faint trail of smoke swirling around him. His eyes were fixed on the distance, lost in his own thoughts.

Phillip's gaze shifted towards you, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He took one last drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it against the ashtray.

He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your cheek. "Missed seeing you in my clothes," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe, pulling you into him.

“All those pictures weren’t enough, Commander?” You teased, leaning upwards to peck at his lips

“Not better than the real thing, darlin.” He spoke against your lips. Phillip's hands cradled your face, his touch tender yet possessive.

Your bodies pressed tightly against each other, an electric current flowing between you. A low moan escaped from Phillip's lips as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the connection.

Desire surged through your veins, igniting a hunger that could only be satisfied in each other's arms. Your breathing grew ragged, the heat between you rising with every touch and caress.

Phillip's hands roamed over your body, tracing the lines of your silhouette, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He slipped his arm around your waist and kissed you more aggressively as you melted into him at once. He could feel your arms around his neck, your soft breath against his ear.

"I want you," you said, feeling him sliding his free hand up over your breast and under the loose fabric, tracing a finger lightly across your nipple as you exhaled.

You moaned quietly in response.

You looked to face him then, your eyes meeting. You were both smiling breathlessly. He took your hand and led you into your shared bedroom.

Your reached out and touched him, running your fingers on the hair on his chest. He gently pushed you back onto the bed, pulling your shirt off as he did so.

You moaned softly. He lowered his head to kiss your breasts, licking and sucking each one until they were covered in his saliva.

He moved down your stomach, kissing and biting all along the way.

He kissed your navel, then began working his way south. When he got to your panties, he pulled them aside almost ripping them and ran his tongue along your pussy lips. She gasped and spread your legs wide open.

He slid his tongue inside you, tasting your sweet juices.“Phil..” You whines at his teasing He lapped at you slowly, savoring every drop. He moved up to your clit, flicking it with his tongue, then gently sucking on it.

You moaned louder and writhed beneath him, pushing your pussy harder against his mouth. He sucked harder, feeling her muscles contract around his tongue. But before you could get your release he stopped.

Kissing his way back up to you he finally made it to your lips. Hungry for more, he flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up. “I want you to come with me.”

“Yes, please Phill.” You practically begged him to be inside of you at this point, not being able to take it any longer.

Your body was on fire, and the only thing that could quench the flames were him. You arched your back and pressed yourself into him as he thrust inside of you.

The sound of your moans filled the room, and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. You could feel every inch of him inside of you, stretching you wider than you'd ever been before. “Fuck, You take me so good.” He cooed, pounding harder into you. You felt your walks closing around him, beginning to ride your high all the way to his. “Fuck!”

You let out a loud cry when he came inside of you, filling you up with his hot cum. You both collapsed down onto the bed, gasping for breath.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against your skin, running a hand against your stomach. “So fucking much”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #fanfic #simon ghost riley #call of duty smut #graves x reader #phillip graves is underrated #phillip graves x reader

183 notes · View notes

positivelyholland · 10 months

Note

swift-styles daughter being brought on stage by harry and they just dance and run around stage together a cute little chaotic duo

pairing: harry styles x daughter!reader (brief mention of taylor x daughter too)

genre: fluff

summary: a moment with a father, his daughter, a massive stage, and a crowd full of thousands

warnings: performing on stage???

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The anticipation in the air was electric as the stadium lights dimmed, casting a warm golden glow on the massive stage. The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, their excitement vibrating through your entire being.

You clung to your father's hand tightly, your heart pounding in sync with the bass thumping from the speakers.

Harry Styles, the man who stole millions of hearts with his soulful voice and charming smile, stood center stage. His eyes twinkled with a mix of nerves and excitement.

He glanced down at you, his precious daughter, and grinned. "Ready, love?"

You nodded enthusiastically, unable to contain the bubbling joy within you. This was a moment you had dreamt of for as long as you could remember—to share the stage with your talented father.

As the first notes of a lively, infectious tune filled the air, the spotlight found its way to the two of you, and the crowd's applause grew even louder.

With a twinkle in his eye, Harry gently tugged your hand, and you both took your first steps onto the grand stage. The atmosphere was exhilarating, a dreamlike energy coursing through your veins.

As if by instinct, you began to move in sync with the music, your feet carrying you effortlessly across the vast expanse of the stage.

Your father matched your steps effortlessly. He twirled and spun, his voice filling the stadium with its warmth, while you mimicked his every move.

The crowd was enchanted, captivated by the pure joy radiating from the stage. Their cheers fueled your spirit, pushing you to dance with even more energy.

As the song reached its peak, Harry scooped you up into his arms, spinning you around in a dizzying display of love and excitement... which was impressive, considering you aren't a little kid anymore.

The audience roared with approval, and you felt like the luckiest person in the world, cradled in your father's embrace.

With a small grin, Harry set you down gently, and the two of you began to weave through the stage.

The lights flashed and colors swirled around you, creating a kaleidoscope effect that mirrored the excitement bubbling inside you.

The crowd cheered and clapped along, caught up in the magical moment of a father and his daughter sharing their love of music.

As the music began to fade, your father knelt down in front of you, his eyes filled with adoration.

"You were amazing, y/n," he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Your heart swelled with pride and affection. "Learned it from the best," you laughed, your voice filled with awe.

The crowd erupted into applause once more, their admiration filling the air. Your father stood up, grabbing your hand one final time, and you waved to the crowd, your smiles reflecting the happiness that radiated from within.

This moment would forever be etched in your memory—a precious bond between a father and his daughter, celebrated on a stage that held the dreams of millions.

As the lights faded and the cheers subsided, you clung to your father, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he caught his breath.

He only had a very quick break to carry you off before he has to go back on-stage, but you decided to share one thought that's been going through your mind this whole time...

"After this Mom's gonna be bringing me on stage all the time from now on," you commented with a giggle.

"That she will be," he laughed along with you.

And as you disappeared into the wings and your dad returned to the stage, the world knew that the legendary Harry Styles had found his greatest joy—his daughter, the star that lit up his life.

#positively holland #x daughter!reader #harry styles x daughter!reader #taylor swift x daughter!reader #styles swift!reader #taylor swift x reader #harry styles tour #harry styles love on tour

236 notes · View notes

agent-troi · 5 months

Text

Eight Nights of Mulder, Night 5: Miracles

Summary: Scully finds out she’s pregnant… but this time, Mulder is there to share her joy.

@eightnightsofmulder @today-in-fic

ao3 link

“Scully, they’re taking abductees. You’re an abductee.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Do you want to become one yourself, Mulder? Because that’s what could happen if you go back out there.”

“I can’t let it happen to you again. I won’t. I’m not gonna risk…” he paused to swallow around the lump in his throat. “...losing you.”

Her eyes welled up with tears, and he could feel his doing the same. In unison, they moved into one another’s embrace.

“Don’t go back,” she whispered. “Please.”

Before Mulder could respond, he felt her suddenly go slack against him. He stumbled as he caught her limp body in his arms. “Scully? Scully!”

He saw her eyes twitch beneath half-closed lids. “M’ld’r…” she murmured sluggishly.

“I’m here, Scully. I’m here, and I’m not leaving. You hear me?”

“Mmmm…” There was a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. His panic escalated, and he bent at the knees to scoop her up in his arms and cradle her against his chest. She’s so small…

“Agent Mulder?” Skinner had emerged from the conference room, followed closely by the three Gunmen. Their eyes widened when they saw Scully. “What happened?” Skinner asked.

“I don’t know, I think she fainted.” Mulder could barely hear his own voice over the sound of his heart hammering in his chest. “I’m taking her to the hospital. You guys stay here with Krycek and Marita and see what else you can find out.”

He made it to the hospital in record time, Scully regaining consciousness along the way but still weak enough not to raise more than the faintest objections when Mulder told her where he was taking her. When he told the admitting nurse that he was her boyfriend, Scully raised her eyebrows at him but didn’t say anything. Thankfully, the nurse believed them, so he was allowed to wait with her while they ran a series of tests.

“I know it’s technically true, since we’re together now,” she remarked as she sat on the examination table, her legs swinging back and forth as they were too short to reach the ground. “But ‘boyfriend’ just sounds so… juvenile. No, that’s not the right word. It’s just not… enough… to describe what you are to me.”

Mulder sat in a chair which he’d pulled up right next to the table, squeezing her hand gently as he looked up at her. “If I’d said I was only your ‘partner’, they wouldn’t have let me in here.”

Scully chuckled. “Half the time people assume we mean that in a romantic sense anyway. I think it’s fitting. It describes every aspect of our relationship, personal and professional.” She paused to let out an adorably enormous yawn, and Mulder couldn’t help but smile despite his lingering concern. “And it would’ve described…”

Her voice faltered as she suddenly looked away from him, down at her feet. “If we’d gotten our miracle, we would’ve been partners in that too.”

Regret and agonized longing pierced his heart, just like it had back in Oregon when he’d watched Scully hold Teresa Hoese’s baby. He’d wanted that for her– with her– so much, but whatever cruel God was in charge of dispensing miracles had decided it wasn’t meant to be.

The door to the exam room opened, and in walked the doctor, who looked like she was trying not to smile. “Miss Scully?”

She handed her a manila envelope, which Scully immediately opened. Mulder looked at the doctor anxiously, too afraid to read it himself. “What is it? Is she okay?”

A gasp caused him to turn his attention back to Scully, who was pressing one hand to her mouth as if she were trying to hold in laughter or tears, or both. “Scully?”

His partner looked up at him with an unreadable expression. “I’m… I’m pregnant.”

She laughed softly as tears of joy slid down her cheeks. “I’m having a—”

“We’re having a—”

“A miracle,” they finished in unison. Mulder pulled Scully into his arms and spun her around, laughing and crying with her.

“I told you not to give up, Scully.”

“You did,” she murmured into his shoulder. “I’ll never doubt you again.”

He snorted. “Liar.”

Scully laughed again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I thought you believed in miracles?”

“I thought you didn’t?”

Mulder smiled and kissed her forehead, cradling her face as she gazed up at him with wide-eyed joy and wonder. “Well, maybe now I do.”

#today in fic #eightnightsofmulder #x files #fox mulder #dana scully #mulder x scully #msr #txf s7 #requiem #miracles #hanukkah

80 notes · View notes

aquagirl1978 · 4 months

Text

Deck the Halls - Fenrir Godspeed x Reader (Ikemen Revolution)

A/N: The first of 12 Days of Christmas - a very old request by anon for New Year, New Celebration event and part of A Series of Firsts challenge.

Pairing: Fenrir Godspeed x Reader

Prompt: carrying the other in their arms & first celebrations

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: 368

Tags: fluff

What a year it had been since you fell into Cradle.

It had been hard at first to be separated from your family and friends. But the members of the Black Army had been so warm and welcoming, easing your transition to Cradle, that before you knew it, they were your family, and Cradle your home.

Your heart warmed as you looked around the room, your new family gathered to celebrate your first Christmas in Cradle. Luka had spent all day baking treats for the festivities. Sirius found the tray of treats and was happily gobbling up a loaf of cake. Ray, seated in a large armchair like the King that he was, had a litter of kittens sleeping on his lap. And Seth, whom no party would be complete without, was leading the group in singing Christmas carols.

And then there was Fenrir.

Fenrir, your best friend and lover and the entire reason for you staying in Cradle when you had the chance to return to your world. But how could you do that when your heart and home was here in Cradle?

Fenrir, who was sneaking off with a tray of Luka's treats for you to enjoy in his room later. Fenrir, who had tied small bells onto each kitten's collar so that they'd jingle as soon as Ray stood up. Fenrir, who was stealing bits of Sirius’ cake and chucking it into Seth’s opened mouth, quieting his loud singing.

“Hey…” Familiar arms wrapped around your waist, Fenrir’s breath warm as he whispered into your ear. “I heard about this crazy tradition where if you find yourself under the mistletoe, you have to kiss the other person.”

But he stopped you, pressing a finger to your lips.

Tilting your chin up, you saw a sprig of mistletoe dangling over your head. You spun in your spot, a joyful smile spread on your lips as you leaned towards Fenrir to collect your kiss.

“Not here,” he said, his eyes glittering with mischief as he picked you up in his arms. You threw your arms around his neck, giddy with joy as he carried you away from the party towards his bedroom, eager to be kissed. And more.

Tagging: @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @alixennial @redheadkittys @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @kisara-16 @kpop-and-otome @lordsisterxotome @lucyw260 @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @judejazza @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @vivislosingitagain @corpiote

#12 days of christmas #new year new celebration #a series of firsts ccc #ikemen series #ikemen revolution #ikerev #fenrir godspeed #ikerev fenrir #ikemen fenrir #ikerev fanfic #ikemen fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

80 notes · View notes

makethatelevenrings · 2 years

Text

Day 25 - Mirror Sex

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Warnings: if you’re under 18, please go away. go be a kid. go play club penguin or something. idek if club penguin is still a thing.

Summary: You and Jason get caught in the rain. Things ensue.

Kinktober Masterlist

Your laughter echoed off the walls of the stairwell as you ran ahead of Jason’s thundering footsteps. He caught you at the landing to your floor and spun you around, his hands settling on your hips and his lips catching against the corner of your smile. He was grinning too, but it was that small, private one that he used in public. You teased him that he didn’t need to maintain his macho man attitude constantly, but he merely shot you a Look and that was the end of that conversation.

Hey, if it scared off assholes from looking at you, you would accept it.

Jason Todd was terrifying when he wanted to be. But with you, he was always gentle and kind. You loved how he played soccer with the kids on the sidewalks as you walked to the corner store or the times he saw single moms struggling to carry bags of groceries up to their apartments and he would enlist the two of you to help, making conversation as you walked her to her place. He patrolled the Bowery with the intention of protecting those who couldn’t defend themselves from those trying to take advantage of the way the Gotham elite and police turned a blind eye to the people of this neighborhood.

And god, how you loved the way his hair curled over his forehead right now, rain soaking the ends and sprinkling droplets over his cheeks. The bag from the bodega down the street was clutched in one of his fists, the bottles of kombucha you had begged him to buy along with a packet of condoms and some of those pretzel sticks you both liked, banging against your leg as he pushed you back against the door to your place and dipped his head to press his lips against yours.

You broke away from him with a laugh. Your joy overrode the feeling of discomfort that normally accompanied soaking wet clothes plastered against your body. The two of you had run out to grab a few things, thinking you would have outrun the quickly approaching storm. But in the eight minutes it took to grab everything and pay, it had started downpouring.

It was like something out of a movie. You had stopped Jason on the sidewalk outside of your apartment, grabbed the front of his shirt, and yanked him down to crash your lips together in a searing kiss. Soaking wet yet burning with desire, the two of you stumbled upstairs to where you were now.

“C’mon,” he grunted. “Gotta get you outta these wet clothes.”

His hand fumbled with the keys and you snickered as he cursed under his breath until he successfully unlocked it and pushed the door open. You stumbled back but he caught you, shutting the door and locking it without even looking behind him. He tossed the bag to the side and his hands slipped under your shirt and pushed up, tugging your shirt up and over your head.

You nearly crashed into the wall but Jason’s hand shot up and cradled the back of your head, absorbing the shock of the hit. He hauled you up against him and you wrapped your legs around his waist, peppering kisses over his brow and cheeks and jaws as he headed towards the bathroom.

Jason set you down on the sink, brushing aside some random skincare products Dick and Steph kept giving you, and cupped your face between his large palms. He sought your mouth with such a tender yet directed touch that you moaned into his kiss and tugged at the hem of his shirt. He pulled away just long enough to grab the back of his shirt and yank the soaked fabric up and over his head.

Fucking hell, it was like a Chippendale show or something. Rivulets of water trailed over his taut, muscular frame and you wanted to chase each drop with your tongue. Instead, you settled on unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them over his hips. He smirked and shook them off to pool onto the ground, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Your turn,” he remarked. You slid off the counter and shimmied out of your pants, turning your head over your shoulder to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked like a mess thanks to the rain and a slight frown twisted at your lips.

As if sensing your sudden turn of emotion, Jason slid behind you and brushed his lips over your shoulder. His teal gaze met yours in the mirror and he wordlessly slid your undergarments off, exposing your body to the cool air. Your nipples hardened at the drop in temperature, but his heated gaze lit a fire in your stomach.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled. He said it in such a way that it was almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. As if it were a word he kept tucked next to his heart. As if you were the most precious treasure in the world and by whispering the truth of your beauty to the world, he was revealing the location of his most prized possession.

Jason dropped to his knees and his hands came up to knead the flesh of your ass before he parted your cheeks and licked a fat stripe across your holes. You gasped, your hips rocking forward and pressing you against the cool ceramic tile of the bathroom sink. In the mirror, your lips parted and eyes widened as you realized what was about to happen.

“Keep your eyes forward, sweetheart. Want you to see what I see,” he said, voice muffled from his place by your thigh.

And then he dove in.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood smut

931 notes · View notes

therealdisneyfan2319 · 1 year

Text

I Know So | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Pregnancy is a dream come true for a woman who’s lost her children twice...or is it?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, miscarriage, blood, hospitals, medical procedures

Word Count: 2.5K

Masterlist

Joy. Pure unadulterated joy. That’s the first thing you felt when you opened the small bag Wanda left on the kitchen table for you.

“Really?” you asked as you cradled the tiny yellow booties in your hands.

“Mmhmm,” Wanda nodded, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She yelped as you picked her up and spun her around.

“You’re pregnant!” The feeling was indescribable. After all the months of trying, all the hoping and praying and negative tests, Wanda was getting her boys back. Never again would she dream about traveling back into the multiverse to find them. They finally existed in your world.

******

You were the one who found her hiding out in that cave in the mountains of Sokovia. She convinced herself she was a burden to society, a being undeserving of love and affection. It was the punishment she deserved for all the pain she caused. No matter how many times she told you that, you refused to listen. You loved Wanda with all your heart. She deserved the world and so much more. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to make her happy.

She had told you all about them. How they miraculously grew up in the blink of an eye in Westview. How Billy was sweet and sensitive, his mother’s child through and through. How Tommy was daring and adventurous, reminding her so much of her brother. Losing them almost destroyed her. You held her as she recounted her descent into the Darkhold. The countless lives she tore apart as she scrambled to find her boys. She never forgot the way they looked at her as they begged for their lives. It broke her.

When you first talked about children, Wanda was apprehensive. Motherhood was something she craved desperately, but feelings of inadequacy and doubt plagued her. Did she even deserve the chance to be a mother again? She didn’t seem to think so. What if something happened to them? She’d lost them twice, she couldn’t lose them again.

“Wanda, you’re not going to lose them again. Every other you has her boys, right? It’s your turn to be happy.” She smiled as you thumbed away the tear rolling down her cheek.

“You think so?” she sniffled.

“I know so.”

******

“Okay, that one is definitely Tommy. That’s his nose.” Wanda mumbled as she shoved the other half of the jelly donut into her mouth.

“Wanda, they’re both half an inch long. They look like beans. How on earth can you tell which one is which?”

“This isn’t my first time being pregnant with them, Y/N. I know my boys. Plus, look at the other one. Billy always held his hands like that when he was napping.”

“That’s a strange sentence, but given the circumstance I’ll allow it,” you chuckled as you gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Wanda didn’t even wait for your response as she snatched your donut out of the bag.

“Go ahead,” you sighed. Wanda’s pregnancy cravings were keeping all the local bakeries in business and your wallet that much thinner. It would be a long seven months before you could have a donut to yourself again.

“Mmm, so I think we should do a jungle theme for the nursery?”

“Jungle? Why jungle?” “Sweetheart, it was 1970 the last time I had them. Themed nurseries weren’t really a thing back then,” she explained, her mouth full of donut.

“I guess I could go along with that,” you shrugged. “I was thinking blue because, y’know, they’re boys, but jungle works too.”

She shot you a knowing look. “I can’t wait for you to meet them. You’re going to be the perfect father.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

******

The first trimester was horrible. Morning sickness plagued Wanda all hours of the day. She felt tired all the time. You frequently found her passed out in odd places around the house, curled up with a pillow and blanket in the very spot where fatigue overtook her. She complained about having to go up a bra size and feeling like she had to pee more. Yet through the profound misery, you’d never seen her happier: she was glowing. Each day crossed off on the calendar was another day closer to reuniting with her sons.

“What if I’m not good enough?” Wanda asked you one night as you snuggled in bed. These sort of questions were a common recurrence: she was haunted by thoughts of inadequacy.

“Of course you’ll be good enough, Wanda. Don’t even think you won’t.” You squeezed her close and planted a kiss on her head.

“But what if I mess up?”

“We’re gonna mess up. All parents do. But we’ll deal with it and we’ll grow and make sure that we do better the next time.”

Wanda seemed to shrink as she clung to you. Clinginess had been another hallmark of her pregnancy. She needed to be around you constantly, which you didn’t mind. All Wanda wanted was to feel safe and protected. You were her knight in shining armor, the one who vowed to keep her safe always. Her stunning green eyes, full of fear and doubt, stared up at you as you wrapped your arm around hers.

“What if I hurt them?” she whispered.

“Wanda, you won’t.”

“But I could’ve, back-”

“No. That wasn’t you, remember? That was the Darkhold. That was the Scarlet Witch. That wasn’t you. You’ll never hurt them.” You gazed down at her with concern. If only there was a way to take away all her doubts and insecurities. Wanda was going to be a wonderful mother. She was so kind, so caring, full of love, and fiercely protective. Six months to go and she would already go to the ends of the multiverse and back for her sons.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

******

Fear. Unspeakable fear. That’s the first thing you felt when Wanda’s shrill scream woke you out of a deep sleep. Strewn pillows and tangled blankets stalled your efforts to fly right out of bed. As soon as you flipped the light on, your heart sank: blood. Blood all over your crisp linen sheets.

Wanda was curled on the floor. The pain dropped her to her knees. She was screaming, strangled sobs wracking the room as she hugged herself tight.

Phone. Where was the phone? Call someone, anyone. Close the windows? The neighbors might hear. What if they hear? What will they think? Wanda. Help Wanda. Anyone, someone, please help. There’s so much blood. How do you clean blood? Wanda. The boys. No. Not the boys. Not her boys. Not your boys.

The next hour was a complete blur. You frantically called 911 as Wanda sobbed on the bathroom floor. You didn’t know what was going on. All you could do was hold her hand and pray that everything would be okay as the paramedics raced into the bathroom.

“She-she’s pregnant. Twins. We’re having twins.” The words felt like they came from someone else's mouth.

“How far along?”

“Three months.” The paramedic looked at you pitifully. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Her eyes told you everything you already knew.

“It’s okay, Wanda. You’re going to be okay. I’ll be right behind you.” You kissed her hand as they loaded her into the ambulance.

“You think so?” she asked as she reached out to touch your cheek.

You gulped down the lump in your throat as you nodded. “I know so.”

******

Neither of you really heard a word the doctor said. It was all one sound. Wanda’s eyes glazed over as she stared at the bright lights overhead. All you could do was stare at the ring on her finger. Her grip on your hand tightened as the doctor said the words the two of you had been dreading.

“Since her bleeding has been so heavy over the past few hours, I’m going to advise that we deal with this surgically. Normally I’d suggest watching and waiting, but given the circumstances-”

“Okay,” Wanda whispered.

“Someone will be down to get you shortly, okay?” The doctor turned to leave, but paused as he opened the door. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

You watched the door slam shut as the doctor left your small room. ‘Sorry for your loss.’ The words lingered in the air, permeating the uncomfortable silence that fell over the room. You sighed, rubbing your thumb over the palm of Wanda’s hand. Much to your surprise, she pulled away.

“Wands-”

“Don’t touch me.”

Your heart shattered as she turned away from you. The pain she was feeling, both physical and emotional, was unfathomable. So you pulled away, crossing your arms as you sank back into the soft-backed chair. It was all you could do to not throw it across the room. As close as you were to a breakdown, the most important thing was holding it together for Wanda. You weren’t losing your sons for a third time. No one else in the entire universe had ever felt the earth-shattering pain she was experiencing in that sterile room.

“Do you want me to come with you?” you asked hesitantly.

“No.” Her response was terse as she sniffled. You couldn’t see her face, but you could almost picture the tears streaming down her face.

You stood and watched as someone came to wheel Wanda away. Something about how she would be awake for the entire procedure and that you could be there with her if you wanted.

“She doesn’t want me there,” you mumbled.

“Miscarriages are hard. One minute you’re planning what the nursery should look like and looking at strollers, the next minute it feels like your entire world is ending. I’ve been there,” the nurse sighed, tenderly placing a hand on your shoulder. “She’ll be okay, I know she will. Just give her some time.”

Hospitals scared you. You didn’t want to stay in that claustrophobic room without her. So you left. You had to get out of there. Every moment you spent there was another gut wrenching reminder of what you’d lost. As you walked down the hallway toward the exit, the world clouded over. It was if this was a lucid dream gone wrong. There was nothing you could do to make any of it better.

There was a bench off to the side of the building. It was quietly nestled under a willow tree in the memorial garden surrounded by flora and fauna of all types. The garden was quiet, peaceful, and private. You noticed all the memorial signs and stones that littered the dirt path to the bench: ‘In Loving Memory.’ ‘Always in Our Hearts.’ ‘We Love You.’ ‘With Love, Mommy and Daddy.’ Mommy and Daddy. The titles that would remain unspoken in your house tore the breath from your lungs. So right there, in the privacy of the memories of those loved and lost with the thought of your sons in the forefront of your mind, you finally let yourself break down.

******

Three days later and Wanda still hadn’t spoken. She shuttered herself away in the unfinished nursery. Her waking hours were spent in the rocking chair staring into nothing. You decided to give her space, but as the meals you left for her remained uneaten your worries increased tenfold. Try as you might to talk to her, she never answered. She didn’t even look at you as you spoke. If you inserted yourself into her sightline, she simply looked the other way. Your heart had never been so heavy.

As you came down to the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning on that fourth day, you were surprised to see an opened box on the table. It was addressed to Wanda, a gift from the Bartons.

Congratulations! We’re so excited to meet your boys! Love, Clint and Laura.

Strewn on the table were the tags of two stuffies: a hippo and a whale. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt Clint and Laura’s excitement radiating from the card. How you dreaded having to tell everyone about the loss. But where were the toys?

Quietly, you crept towards the nursery. Illuminated by the soft orange glow of the Noah’s ark night light, Wanda sat in the rocking chair, clutching the hippo and the whale to her chest. The scene silently devastated you. You heard small sniffles and whimpers as she squeezed the stuffies as tightly as she could. Sighing, you walked over to the rocking footrest and sat in front of her. Wanda averted her eyes from you. Even in the dim glow of the room you could see the tears glistening from the corners of her eyes.

“I guess we should tell everyone,” she sniffled. “No sense in them wasting their money anymore.”

“Wanda…” Upon hearing her name, she instantly stood and walked over toward the window, stuffies still held close.

“We should get rid of all of this, too. No sense in keeping it around if…if there aren’t going…t-to be any…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. The emotions flooded her and suddenly there was no keeping them in anymore. Her forehead rested against the window as she let out an anguished cry that only inhabits those who have lost their children. It was absolutely bone-chilling, devastating you to the very depths of your core.

You walked up behind her, gingerly wrapping your arms around her midsection as you attempted to hug her close.

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed.

“Wanda, please let-”

“You said I’d be good enough! You said I wouldn’t hurt them! YOU SAID I WOULDN’T LOSE THEM AGAIN! WHY DID YOU LIE TO ME?!” Balled fists pounded on your chest as she took out all of her frustrations on your body. You simply stood there, taking every hit as it came. “WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?”

“I didn’t know this would happen,” you whispered as her green eyes, full of frustration and sorrow, bore into your soul.

“MY BOYS ARE GONE, Y/N. THEY’RE DEAD! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE?” She looked at the stuffies in her hands before throwing them to the ground. “I just wanted to be a mom,” she whispered as they bounced off the carpet.

“And I just wanted to be a dad,” you choked out in a strangled whisper. As Wanda suddenly looked up at you, a horrified expression on her face, you completely broke down. “I wanted them, too. I wanted them, too.”

Your chest heaved as sobs wracked your body. Burying your face in your hands, you felt a tiny pair of arms wrap themselves around your middle. Wanda buried her head in the crook of your neck. Her body shook as she cried into you. You removed your hands from your face and wrapped them around her. So there in that nursery, surrounded by reminders of what would never be, the two of you finally acknowledged the reality of such a terrible loss.

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch fic #wanda x male reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch x male reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

338 notes · View notes

south-of-heaven · 9 months

Note

Hi! could i request drew mcintyre x wife!reader where reader finds out she’s pregnant? tysm! your writing is amazing!

We did it || Drew McIntyre x Reader

Summary: You find out you're pregnant, your husband is ecstatic.

As you stared at the pregnancy test in your hand, your heart raced with both excitement and nervousness. You and Drew McIntyre had been married for a few years now, and the idea of starting a family together had always been at the back of your mind. You had been trying for a baby for some time, and now, finally, that little plus sign on the test confirmed your hopes.

With trembling hands, you rushed to find Drew, who was in the living room, watching TV. "Drew!" you called out, your voice filled with a mix of emotions.

He turned to you, a smile forming on his face as he saw the expression on yours. "What's wrong, love?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

You couldn't help but break into a smile, tears of joy already brimming in your eyes. "Nothing's wrong," you said, holding up the pregnancy test. "I'm pregnant."

The room seemed to light up as Drew's eyes widened with pure happiness. In a heartbeat, he was on his feet, wrapping his arms around you in the tightest embrace. "You're pregnant?" he repeated, his voice filled with awe and wonder.

You nodded, burying your face into his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat against your cheek. "Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "We're going to have a baby."

Drew's joy was contagious, and he spun you around in his arms, both of you laughing with sheer happiness. "I can't believe it," he said, his eyes shining with love. "This is the best news ever!"

He held you close, his hands cradling your growing belly. "I love you so much," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I already love our little one."

The two of you spent the rest of the day basking in the joy of the news. Drew couldn't stop beaming, and he couldn't keep his hands off your belly, already feeling so connected to the new life growing inside you.

Over the coming months, Drew was the most attentive and caring husband anyone could ask for. He made sure you were well taken care of, attending doctor's appointments with you, and reading all the parenting books he could get his hands on.

As your belly grew, so did your love for each other. Drew would talk to the baby every night, his deep voice soothing and comforting. He would sing lullabies and tell stories, his eyes shining with love as he imagined the future with your little one.

When the day finally came for the baby to arrive, Drew was by your side the entire time, holding your hand and encouraging you with every contraction. And when you held your baby for the first time, tears of joy streamed down both of your faces.

"We did it," Drew said, his voice filled with pride as he looked at the tiny bundle in your arms. "We have a beautiful baby."

You nodded, feeling overwhelmed with love and happiness. "Yes, we do," you said, looking up at Drew with tears in your eyes. "And I couldn't have asked for a better partner to share this journey with."

Drew smiled, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. "I love you," he whispered, his hand gently cradling the head of your precious baby.

"I love you too," you replied, feeling the warmth of your little family surrounding you. With Drew by your side, you knew that you were ready for all the joys and challenges of parenthood, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for your little family.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader

116 notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 12

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink

Synopsis: When falling in love is the easy part where does the difficulty lie? In a society where we’re defined by our job, it’s those little details as a relationship goes on that ends up setting a course for whether or not a couple can make it in the long run.

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Last warning for the 🍋 under the cut. Minors DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: wetness check, couple of breast notes, a clit trip, a FULL ON pussy examination, and many fold references (with some distinct labia mentions)

Bumping shoulders with your friends, a pile of people milled in a lobby outside the black box. Cradling a bouquet, you protected it the best you could against the writhing mass. Most of the regular attendees had already left and what was left were fans and support. You landed with the latter and there was a tizzy near the front of the crowd. The actors and techs walked out causing people to flock to them. You hung back with your group as you allowed others to first get their chance at congratulations. It didn’t take long until your friend appeared through a clear path. Bombarding him with the flowers and joy about his performance on opening night, you were quickly invited to an after party.

It came with shouts, slung arms, and the batter of bars. Locations flittered by as the high of stage shortened attention spans. Ushered in to cabs too full and driven around by drivers that surely hated their payload, you sobered up to late night tacos while comingling with the strongest that had toughed out where the weak had thrown in the towel. Hydration was attended to and after hanging around for long enough that the liquid passed, you exited the most recent dive. An illuminated street greeted you and your actor friend laughed with his arm wrapped around another of your compatriots. With things no longer spinning, you stared up and down the road curiously.

“Already on the prowl? Geez, who knew you’d be last one standing?!” Your actor friend jeered.

“It’s not that, though…” You did your best front double biceps pose before laughing right out of it. “I think I know this area.”

“Well dur!” Your other friend freed himself from the actor’s grasp and flopped onto a stair step. “We all want to valet with daddy’s money to the best restaurants.”

“There’s nice places all over the place, man.” Your actor friend sighed.

With your phone out, you brought up maps and checked your location. Eyes illuminated by a brightened screen, you spun around to your companions. “I do know this area! Stay with me while I send a message real quick?”

“Booty call?” The other friend clasped his hands and held them to his cheek.

“Hopefully.” You hummed with your thumbs flying over your screen.

You: This is crazy, but I’m in the area. Are you busy?

“Wait, what?” Your actor friend stumbled over to see.

You easily out maneuvered him.

“You’re supposed to bring enough to share with the class!” Your other friend slumped.

Your phone pinged and you danced a couple of steps away to garner some freedom.

Donnie Darko: Weren’t you seeing a play on the other side of town?

You: Long story short: after party took us places!

Donnie Darko: Prior notice would be preferred.

You: That’s cool, I was going to head home then.

Donnie Darko: 15 minutes.

You: 😏

Biting back a smile you felt the presence of your actor friend over your shoulder. Pretending to come away from your phone excited, you elbowed him harshly. He keeled over with a wheeze to hold his throbbing stomach and you navigated around him. “One last request before I send your sorry asses on your ways?”

Your friend on the step gave a mock salute. “Anything for the team. If one us gets laid, then we all do.”

“Not… true…” You actor friend coughed.

The three of you made it most of the way to your destination when a lone taxi on an otherwise desolate street beckoned your friends. With your target a few visible blocks away, you let them depart with a group hug. They drove off and you kept your guard up as you made the rest of the trip alone. The street was otherwise calm and there was a woman hanging out a window to your right. She drank in the night air with a sleepy expression and her calm translated to you. You made it to Donnie’s building easily and approached a panel of buzzers. Checking your phone, you found the trip wasted more than enough time so you scanned the console.

It felt obvious when after a few scans you didn’t find his name. Trying to recall the little you remembered from the only trip you’d taken inside, you hovered a finger over the various floors. At a loss, you reached for your phone when a buzz and a click sounded. You looked over to find the door ajar. Taking it to keep it from closing, you glanced back at the panel. A blocky purple check mark was marked on a bit of plastic that didn’t even look like a screen. You stared at it for a moment before shrugging the thing off.

It was absolutely within Donnie’s capabilities.

Finally palming your phone you found a text with the floor and door number waiting for you. Pocketing it, you opted for the elevator and rode the thing while rolling on the balls of your feet. An easy trip to the door, you were almost surprised when it didn’t open upon contact. He’d otherwise laid out a red carpet, but you figured you could meet him the rest of the way by giving a quick rap to the surface with your knuckles.

It opened soon enough and Donnie stood with languid curiosity.

“Hey.” You tipped yourself in a manner you hoped was alluring.

“Greetings.” He shifted, but didn’t grant you entrance.

“Guess what?”

“No ridiculous jokes, I can smell the alcohol on you.”

You came out of your pose with a scrunched up nose. “That was earlier. It’s been a few hours and I’m fully fed and hydrated.”

He leaned down to evaluate you and you swore his glasses flared in color for a moment. Seemingly satisfied, he came away and straightened up enough to lean into his door jamb. “What then?”

You stepped back and threw out your arms like a gymnast. He folded his and you gave him a mischievous grin before focusing on yourself. Bringing your hands back in, you did your best impression of a plie. It meant turning out your hips and bending at your knees. You dropped down low before coming back up with an ever widening smile. “I would say that’s all healed, wouldn’t you?”

For a moment, he didn’t seem like he understood. Then his arms unfurled. It felt like a dinner bell rang and you were yanked inside. His lips met yours in a fervor and he used your body to slam the door shut. Trapped between him and the wood, the need that had built up during your recovery time outpoured. From the heat of the tongue tango you knew there was no way you were going to make it to the bed this time. From the way your clothes were already falling by the wayside, you weren’t even sure you were going to make it to the couch. You split his hands away from your zipper to make a grab at the edge of his sweater.

“Do you always hang around your apartment fully clothed?”

He allowed you to grab the fabric before pressing his elbows above your head to cage you in. “Do you lounge around yours naked?”

You tugged his sweater up to cover his cocksure face and he helped around the point where his height exceeded your reach. He tossed the top aside and nipped at you as he got a renewed hold of your hips. He traced your pant line with a slotted finger and your hips craned into the touch. Biting down a moan, you leaned into him as he got the button. You caught sight of his glasses and reached up to take them off. You both succeeded in your removals at nearly the same time before coming together in a heated celebration.

Both your pants and underwear dropped in unison and instead of allowing you to free yourself, Donnie lifted you clean out of them. The height had you balancing your hands on his shoulders and he coaxed you into bringing your thighs up around his waist. Pinning your body to the door as leverage, you drank in the way your breasts squished against his plastron. It was a pleasant stiffness that stroked your hardening nipples as you were gently adjusted in a rocking motion. The distraction drifted away as you heard the clink of a belt.

Awareness came fast as you noticed Donnie’s forehead was to your shoulder and he was juggling your weight while undoing his pants. Deciding to make his task harder, you did a gentle drag of your teeth along from his mask line down to the top of his neck wrap. He instinctively bucked and the door rattled around you.

“Woah there.” You whispered to approximately where you figured his ear was. That was something you hoped you remembered to ask about later.

He grunted, stuck on something, while you explored his clavicle with little kisses. The jostling slowly stopped and you tested a lick of his skin. You weren’t exactly sure what’d you’d find, but there was nothing spectacular on your tongue. The texture was more interesting under the drag of your lips. It threaded somewhere between smoothed out scales and human flesh. It was like the mutation found a perfect median between the two. Exchanging your mouth for your cheek, you affectionately drank in the feel with a scrub.

A slick pop got your attention and you pulled your head back in time with Donnie. He peppered your face with distracting sloppy kisses and you squirmed under the assault. One of his hands departed the thick of your hip and massaged down to your ass. It lolled your jaw and you threw your head back. It banged against the door, but your attention was diverted as a finger neared your core. It skimmed the outside and you sensed he was checking how wet you were. The heated exchange had gotten you worked up to a point, but it wasn’t anywhere near the lengths that had been built up last time.

Fumbling a moan, he lightly tested your folds before stroking with purpose. Your toes curled as he worked up enough moisture to easily roll over your clit. It was just a brush, but you called out the syllable version of his name on contact. The sound brought his head up curiously and you felt a prick of embarrassment come through your already heated face. He rubbed his snout into your cheek before his fingers moved again. With targeted curls and a few minutes, he had his name coming off your lips fully in a rapid plea.

He chuffed as if that wasn’t by his design before his hand disappeared. You whined at the loss when, in a single bob of your body, you felt the heat of him line up with you. He cocked a brow at you as if challenging you to ask for him again. You did so dripping with sweetness and he kissed the pious part of you away. Slowly, he angled you to sink down on him and you groaned as he filled you. That thick tapering had you clinging to him and your legs did their best to lock him in place. He pressed you tighter to the door and, in response, the rocking meant the thing creaked behind you. You wondered about the hinges which you quickly abandoned at the thought of him fixing it.

You wanted to ask for something, but the babble off your lips at each stroke was hardly legible. The heat percolated and despite the crowding, an ache formed. Writhing in time, you quickly found that it wasn’t a psychical thing. He was dragging all the right spots and pleasure was undoubtedly dampening your ability to locate it. It brought a whimper off your lips which only spurned Donnie’s ministrations. The drag of his cock caused you to clench and fed a little bit of that need.

It wasn’t enough.

What was it?

With him supporting your weight, your hands ghosted his arms. Through the wraps your could feel each flex between thrusts. Skirting up, you skimmed where the fabric met his shoulder. The skin there had the same texture as elsewhere and you drunkenly traced a shaky outline of those purple markings. He popped you up to drop you down on him and you squealed at the sensation. It might have been a sign to leave it, so you moved on to trace his collar bone. The touch sent tingles through your finger tips and you chased that sensation. Crawling digits wrapped your arms his neck until they came around to just barely reach the muscles on either side. It pulled him down to you and his forehead came to yours along with an inquisitive gaze.

The desire he found there was easily confused and you still couldn’t find the words. Grasping him helped, but didn’t quell the throb. You needed to be something more. The abstract addition didn’t add up. It left you pawing desperately at the skin you had access to. Maddened, sparks went off deep inside you with each stroke, but the rest of you felt vulnerably numb. It caused you to dig your nails into the spot just under his skull. He didn’t react to the sting and instead shifted your weight to continue fucking you while freeing up one of his arms. It came up and a large hand wrapped around one of your forearms. He didn’t pull you away and instead anchored the limb in place. Goosebumps cropped up under hand and it triggered a deep moan.

A single word came to mind: skinship.

You clawed again and this time he tightened his grip. You relinquished your throttle and in doing so his appendage graced your arm along its trek. The light touch etched into your skin and you pushed out into his hand to get just a little more. He finally caught on that something else was happening and slowed his hips. You waited for the swell of your tongue to subside and in the mean time pet his jaw. He stroked your arm to calm you down and his cock pulsed inside you. It caused your head to loll forward onto his shoulder. You panted there and the suck of oxygen made a dash for the clarity of communication.

It felt like agony to pull your sweaty forehead from his collar. You powered through with a grimace. “I need… you to touch me…”

He was breathy and confused. “I am?”

“More.” You fanned your fingers out to get as much real estate on his face as possible. “I need more.”

The door protested all the more as the air was nearly squeezed out of you at the pressure he exerted. It was a necessary weight to keep you upright and free both his limbs. A hitch in his features, he carefully tested palming your shoulders before checking in to see if that was the right move. You spasmed under his touch and he increased the pressure behind it. You caught how his pupils shifted in dilation between lust and curiosity. He then dragged his grip downward, tracing muscle groups and skirting along with his nails. From where you had a grip on his head, your fingers flexed into his cheeks and pulled. You could feel his teeth underneath and he shook free one of your hands to bring your cheeks together. In a desperate nod, you rubbed there with enough force to cause the skin on your face to go taunt.

He pressed back against the need, not matching it at first, but instead exploring. He made his touch known in a methodical work up that caused you to buck against him. Knocking your wrist, he wrangled your other hand free from him to cradle it. He then brought your palm to his lips and pressed several kisses there all while his eyes never left your face. You cried an approximation of his name. From where he was buried to the hilt, he rolled his hips. It created a favorable friction as he mouthed a line down your arm.

Both your lids fluttered as a gentle gyration meant that the skin survey now led the intimacy. You were put back to your stupefied state as his grasps increased. It was getting close to scratching that incessant itch. You pressed your lips wherever they would land and it felt like your faces were magnetized to one another. Each brush smothered the embers and the smoke it created asphyxiated that distress you couldn’t name. You wanted to bath in his affections and fully submerge yourself.

“You’d… been afraid… to… for so long…” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears.

He had lifted you up high enough that he was nipping along your sternum and his fingers rolled along your rib cage. “Long? It hasn’t been two weeks.”

You dropped your hips enough to stroke the length of him that was still inside you. You could only mumble your confirmation.

His tongue did a languid stripe across the swell of your breast before he bit down on the nipple.

You screeched and unconsciously tugged his mask.

He nosed you with an irritated edge and you released the fabric with sheepish fingers.

“Why are you so thoroughly starved?” His grip shifted so he could lower you further on his cock and put you at eye level. “It’s not like I haven’t touched you.”

The stretch rolled your eyes back until the stillness allowed you to surface. “It wasn’t the… same.”

He gave an animalistic snort that you read as him calling you hopeless before he nuzzled the underside of your chin. You contracted around him and coaxed him to move with your hips. He resumed his shallow thrusts before bringing his arms up. Elbows as anchor points, he pressed his forearms flat on either side of you before slowly pulling them together. It created a vice like pressure that squeezed you and he caught your lips. The enveloping sensation swallowed up your mind and from where your arms were pinned between your chests, you could only dig your fingers into that ridge along the top of his plastron. His tongue shoved into your mouth and your felt faulty of bursting from literally all angles.

He applied more pressure and the coil in your abdomen wound. The bite of his scutes suffocated your front, his arms crushed your torso, his tongue filled your mouth, and it felt like your innards were stuffed by his dick. It left little of you to the open other than your legs and you had long lost contact with them. His strokes sped up and you grasp at collar bone for additional support. Digits splayed, his thumbs landed around your throat. He encouraged the moans coming from there to increase in frequency. His fingers curled over and dug out space between the you and the door to bite into your shoulder blade. Like a final piece, it extinguished the need and you came suddenly.

A loud noise escaped you and, though stunted, you could sense Donnie watching you. As you came down, you blearily caught that his eyes were wide with a sort of awe. You almost wanted to apologize until he buried his face into your collar. He scrubbed his snout harshly against your skin before his hand snapped up your thighs. He then pounded into you in rapid succession. You screamed out due to oversensitivity. Holding on desperately, he came to an abrupt halt and buried himself as deep as he could go. His face reappeared only to watch you as you felt the first pulse of his cock. Instead of coaxing out each spray, he kept himself rooted as the heat of his cum spread in your belly. It was an odd inside out version of your early enveloping and you felt your inner walls desperately try to drink him in.

Gasping, he nudged you with his nose until you were able to give him an approximation of a kiss. He seemed satisfied with the small interaction and rode out the rest of his orgasm while staring at you.

By the time he was done, his gaze was almost too much.

“Let me examine you.”

You blinked at him, a form of postcoital only giving you bare understanding of his words. “Examine?”

He nodded and peeled you off the door.

You made a disgusted face at the feeling and drew as close to him as possible to get away from it. “Examine how?”

“Your sex. I’ll set you on the table.”

You wondered which one he meant as he walked around the couch. “You haven’t seen a pussy before?”

His gaze wasn’t on you, but you felt him roll his eyes. “You weren’t fucked senseless; don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t had a chance to study yours.”

You thought for a moment as he got to his knees. He was still plugging you up and took great care to not break the connect as he set you on a coffee table. Once he had you adjusted, he watched with a neutral expression to await your answer. He was incorrigible; you gave a defeated chuckle. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

“Agreed.” He then ran a hand up your spine to coax you to lay back.

The sensation sent little shockwaves out and he stopped as if he were taking mental notes. Once he had you down, he pulled out in a quick snap. Before any of his cum could dribble out, he hoisted your hips up. You braced yourself on your elbows as he hooked your knees over his shoulders. It brought your core right into his face and he tested letting you go to see if you had enough stability.

“Comfortable enough?”

You shifted slightly to make sure the weight was evenly distributed on your upper back. “I couldn’t hold this forever, but I’m alright for now.”

He nodded approvingly before one of his hands came up between you. You felt his thumb pull back your folds and you watched the way his eye tracked the cum you could feel leak out at the move. Placing a finger on the other side, he then gently pressed your labia together. The squish was audible and more of his seed leaked as he massaged outward. It was almost like he was testing the tensile strength there and your hips stirred despite the clinical nature of the contact.

Watching his face, his mouth was set, but his eyes held a sort of researcher’s excitement. If the way his pupils expanded and contracted in time were any indication, he was entranced. His eyes acted like a lens recording data. His probing ventured inward and you imagined he was probably adept enough to be take mental measurements. His thumb rolled up and avoided your clit to instead press into the sensitive bundle of nerves above the hood. You bucked and he flicked a disapproving gaze at you.

You let your head fall back to the table and stared at the ceiling. Still orderly, this was very different than a well woman exam. He did a sweep that picked up his cum before his hands left you. You glimpsed him while raising up and saw him testing the consistency of it between his fingers. You cocked smile at that until his hands returned and you felt the sensation of him trying to put it back. It had grown cold away from your body and you squirmed. “Geez!”

“Hm?” His eyes were still trained on your sex.

“You have a thing about filling me up is all.”

With one large hand still holding you up by your ass, he used the other to aid in shrugging your knees off his shoulders. One of your feet found the ground, but the other hung on the arm cupping your butt. “Of course.”

It was a little more comfortable to prop yourself up again. “You say that like it should be obvious.”

“Shouldn’t it?” He surged forward, keeping your hips up until he was able to reach your lips. He kissed away further questions with a fervor you couldn’t help but give into. You pulled him down and his plastron poured over your torso. He chased you into the table and it distracted him enough from the hold that he let your ass go. The spill was immediate. You shuddered as the slick ran down your thigh and he broke away from your lips long enough to click his tongue. His fingers found drip quickly and he did his best to shove back in. To avoid another complaint, he then turned the move into a slow, methodical pump.

It was with great reluctance that you gently pushed against his scutes.

He captured a few more kisses before he pulled away. “Yes?”

“It’s just-”

A finger inside you curled into your g-spot.

It caused a whine and a slight quake to your legs. “Don!”

“Mhm?” He curled that finger again and this time you pushed at his arm. “You want me to stop?”

“No.” You grumbled but applied as much pressure as your weak limbs could muster.

He gave a final drag of his finger before pulling out of you.

“It’s mine turn… is all.”

He narrowed his gaze until realization came to him. It brought a half cocked smile and airy aura. “Ah, we did agree after all.”

You nodded and watched as he stood. Your head tilted as he gave a little stretch and you found no dick dangling between his legs. He’d obviously fucked you with something so you pushed up into a sitting position. He languidly moved over to the couch before taking a seat with his legs spread wide. You dropped off the coffee table and crawled the foot up to him. He appraised you contentedly as you settled yourself on your knees in front of him. Searching his crotch you again found nothing and confusion screwed up your features. You turned the look on him and his grin grew in time. “What’s the deal?”

“No deal here.”

“That’s got to be your first straight up lie. You’re so smug I’m suffocating on it.”

He laughed and adjusted himself. When he came away there was a sort of nub that hadn’t been there before. You leaned in. “You have a tail!”

“I do.”

“Can I…?” You had to bite your lip to temper your excitement.

He acted put off, but nodded in a way that encouraged you with is chin.

You reached forward curiously and ran your fingers over it. It wasn’t terribly long and it thinned out to a pointed tip. You traced it curiously back to where it met the skin between his legs and heard him inhale sharply. You eyed him in a quick flick, you moved on instinct to mimick the gently pinching he had done to you earlier. It revealed a slit there that was much larger then you anticipated considering you hadn’t been able to see it plainly. You traced the outline of it and heard an approving sound come from above you. Pressing forward, you used both hands to open him up and saw a strings of wetness spread across the chasm. “Woah…”

He chuffed.

“Your dick is… in there?” Letting the tension relax, you traced around his opening.

He nodded and you took note that he’d stopped speaking.

Still following his lead, you pulled back to stretch his slick between your thumb and index finger. It had a tackier consistency then your own lubrication. He made a little noise as you rubbed the fluid and you brought your gaze up to find him staring at you with darkened eyes.

“Hmm?” You tilted your head innocently and hid your hand.

He frowned and the shape seemed to make it more difficult for him to open his mouth.

Taking pity on him, you wiped your hand on your leg before slowly walking up your fingers over the couch to him. You watched him take in a breath and hold it as you continued the move over his tail before probing at his slit. A gruff noise came from him as you slipped a digit in. It was mostly smooth with the faintest ridges plumping the sensitive skin there. You saw one of his hands fist at his knees and you pressed your digit in as far as you could reach. It barely skirted something inside and he made a feral noise before lurching forward.

Surprised, you pulled out and he hunched over himself with a harsh exhale. He then recomposed as best he could and sat upright.

“You good?” You watched him warily.

His nod was tight and seemed painful. “If you want to watch me drop, don’t do that again.”

“Drop?” You narrowed in on his slit again.

His thighs tensed up and you instinctively put a hand to each. With your eyes trained on his center, you soothingly rubbed your thumbs into the muscles of his inner leg. His torso shifted and the head of something peeked out of his entrance. You leaned back a little as in one swift move, his cock slipped out and bobbed at lazily attention.

“Drop.” The word popped out of your stunned mouth.

“Yes.” The sound heaved off his lips.

You reached out and pressed a single extended finger to his spade shaped head. It struck you that this was that odd flatness you had felt. Testing it’s bounce, you felt the way it gave and then sprung back to maintain its shape. Skirting around its edges, you traced how the darkened purple hue at his tip then gave way to a flesh tone towards the base. Your touch stuttered as he kept expanding the further down you went. It was another thing you had been vaguely aware of, but seeing it right in front of you made it particularly daunting. It bulbed out at its base where the slightest puff of pink fringe marked the end of his member. When you brushed it, the way Donnie’s muscles contracted spoke of its sensitivity. You imagined that was probably due to its musculature as its position presumably aided in however the drop mechanic worked. Not as interested in confirming that, you mostly admired the contrast of where his pinkened cock met his jade colored skin.

“You’re beautiful.” You mumbled, ghosting a graze back up to his head.

“You have strange definitions.” He swallowed hard.

You shot him a dry look as the time that particular trek took dawned on you. The first go around you’d focused on the parts and now the whole was becoming increasingly apparently. Not as adept at exact measurements, he was at least longer than your face. “I… took this.”

“You see my surprise.”

“Like all of this.” You wrapped a hand around a part that allowed your digits to meet. “All of this was inside of me!”

He laughed and the spasms caused his cock to flex under your grip.

You blinked in awe. “The glans shape is wild.”

“It’s meant to spread and lock in place past the vaginal opening.”

You snapped your gaze up to him in a sort of horror.

He watched with fond amusement.

Feeling the flutter of your heartbeat, you brought your eye line down as you slid your hand past where your fingers could no longer meet. You switched to sort of palming the bulge at his base.

“That’s a version of a bulbus glandis. It swells when I come and creates another sort of lock.”

Your lips parted and you had to look away. When you brought your bewildered gaze back, you gave brittle laugh. “It’s like you were made to breed.”

He stopped moving and you blinked rapidly to make sure your eyes were working. When you got a renewed shot of him, you saw his pupils blown wide. A question pursed your lips, but his parted first.

“Stand.”

“Oh…” You flickered your to his member. “I was sort of hoping I could…” You trailed off and licked your lips before testing a pump of your hand around his dick.

His hand snatched your wrist and wrenched you free before you made it half a stroke. “Up.”

His grip stung and when he released you, you reflexively rubbed your hand.

His gaze was turning lethal. “Now.”

The deep command to it had you scrambling to your feet.

He leaned back with held his head high. “Get up here.”

You watched as if on cue his dick bobbed and you wondered how exactly you were supposed to manage that. Climbing the couch up to straddle him on your knees didn’t seem like it would give you enough height. Alternatively, stepping straight onto the couch seemed precarious. Distracted by choice, you’d almost forgotten you left a demanding Donnie waiting.

“I won’t ask again.”

The tone tensed you in a way that got you raised on the tips of your toes. Though you had a little bite in you since he hadn’t actually asked at all, the buzz this version of Donnie held roused something in you. Unsure of where to grip, you started your move by placing your left knee outside his right thigh. As soon as it had a solid foothold on the couch, he came to your aid raising the other one. Even through his hardened persona, you could feel a tenderness as he maneuvered your right leg high enough to clear his cock. Fully upright on your knees, he then held both of your hips to keep you just above his awaiting member.

There was a pause as he drank the image in and it gave you enough wherewithal finally chance that reciprocation you’d been hoping to exercise. With his extra stability, it left your hands free. It created an awkward bend at your waist, but you reached down between your legs to grasp him. He sucked in breath so harshly his teeth nearly whistled on the oxygen. With some maneuvering, you got him near your heat.

“S-slow.” You weren’t sure why you stuttered, but it played right into the scenario. Donnie allowed you to drop about an inch and it was enough for you to stroke his head through your folds. He began to suck in air again, but this time immediately blew it out to maintain composure. Taking point gave you a chance to actually test the way his head felt against you. It’s flat nature caught you in an interesting way, but his grip on your hips kept you from grinding on it. You pushed back until he was at your entrance and shifted your weight to indicate you wanted to be lowered a little more. Donnie obliged and you moved agonizingly slow to appreciate the way his branches bent back to accommodate you.

Keeping from a full breech, the slick worked up until he popped in suddenly. The spread he described happened and you had to reach out to grab his shoulder at the sensation. Panting, you shared a staggered look with him.

He had a thin handle on his features. “Try to lift off.”

You chewed your lip at the thought before moving to raise your hips. There was a certain level of resistance, but you could feel the bend of his head when you pulled hard enough. “It… would?”

“Now, but soon…?” He applied a downward pressure on your hips to keep from actually pulling him out.

You sank down and arched your back to take him with a high-pitched sigh. “D-does that…?”

He stopped his descent to allow you a chance to speak.

Garnering back enough oxygen, you steadied yourself. “If we had to… stop suddenly for… some reason?”

For a moment, you thought his quiet indicated he was thinking it over. However, when you searched his face, he had a beguiled quality to him. He then lifted you a little and allowed you to sink down all the more. “I wouldn’t allow for interruptions.”

Knowing that couldn’t be possible, you had further questions on your lips that morphed into a moan as he dragged you down deeper to enforce his point. You managed a basal glare that he fucked away until you hit that familiar fullness point where you’d taken all of him. He let you settle there as if he knew you’d be picturing the whole of him within you. He was right as you considered specifically the girth of his base where the bulb slotted you in what absolutely felt like a seal. Obviously in practice that hadn’t been the case, but the imagery had you testing a roll of your hips to see how it affected the positioning.

Once you came away satisfied, the stillness caught you. It seemed strange that Donnie had given you such freedom to explore when he’d demanded you hop on his dick. Looking up, you found him settled and watching you with a serene expression. He met your attention with a placid smile and his thumbs drew little spirals on your hip bones. It shifted your whole perspective of what was happening. Instead of an intense lust, it seemed more like he’d needed to get inside you as soon as possible to feel connected. The thought ran through you like a current and you clenched down on him with a flutter of your lashes.

Very much in control of himself, in contrast, he switched his grip as if palming the skeleton of your pelvis. His thumbs stayed in front, while his fingers curled around the small of your back. He then coaxed you to rotate your hips. There was nothing behind you except for the edge of the sofa and the coffee table just beyond that. A tip in that direction meant the dangers of another back bend and you weren’t about to risk another duration of recovery time. You resisted him and, in turn, one of his hands left your hip.

“I’ve got you.” Reaching forward, he assured you through the use of his free hand tucking behind one of your shoulder blades.

The poise in his face was agonizing. You licked your lips nervously before giving into the tilt. He stabilized your weight between the two connection points and tested rolling his hips. It caused the slope of his cock to drag over your g-spot. In the next few strokes the intensity was almost too much and the sounds leaking from you trended more towards pained whimpers. Vigilant, Donnie chose to slow down instead of stopping and the feeling the scrape became a gentle persuasion. It created an oddly secure feeling that allowed you to test the waters of matching his movements.

With only a few slight hiccups, you were soon meeting the rolls of his hips with ones of our own. The tandem nature had caused you to break away from his hold of your upper body so you could instead clamp down on his forearm for a different kind of support. With each thrust the two of you crashed together in a centerfold point. Once you found the rhythm, you had enough mental fortitude left over to look at him. Across from you his eyes were trained down and, for a moment, you thought he was absorbed in his own ministrations.

Instead, you felt his thumb move which caused you to hone in on it. From the grip he’d had on your hip, you hadn’t registered that he’d crept the digit further around the front of your body. With his reach, it placed the pad of which over the center of your pelvis. Trying to focus in spite of the sway, you slowly noticed it was also moving in time. In a startling revelation that caused a hiccup in your hips, it clicked that he was feeling himself through you.

He immediately caught your comprehension and his fingers flexed to encourage you to keep moving. Now with your attention, he traced over the area before his thumb retreated. Knowing what he wanted, you tried to communicate that you needed to jump back into the tempo, but you could only manage a mangled sound. It at least seemed to translate for him and after a strokes, you found the rhythm along with a hand laying uselessly nearby. Timing to jump in you extended two fingers and placed them approximately where he’d mapped out. His thumb soon covered them and pressed down. You could indeed feel the pulse of his cock and shot up a surprised gaze at him.

He didn’t take it in with a look and instead gave a slight smile as he bucked up into your fingertips. You felt the surge inside and out. Electricity zapped you and, now aware of both your limbs, you shot the other out to grab him. Using it as an anchor point to speed up, he met you with deft strikes. The fervor built up and along with it that near painful sting of the constant assault on one of your most sensitive bundle of nerves. You dug your nails into his arm as it brought a rapid sort of high that you sensed would be a stuttering orgasm.

His gaze was so hyperfocused, his eyes were narrowed down to slits, but you found them trained between the two of you. More focused on his thrusts, you had to clumsily try to piece together what had his attention now. From the angle he’d coaxed you into along with the floating bits of data around the evening, your best guess was he was memorizing exactly how you took his cock. It was his odd mixture of clinical affection that made the last few snaps of your hips send you over the edge.

As soon as the first spasm occurred, he tugged you flush to him in a sudden rush. He then pistoned into your orgasm at a pace you couldn’t track even if you were operating on full lucidity. Letting you go, he put you right back into your original leaned position and his gaze snapped down to where it had been. You followed it as timed clenches rocked your body and widened your eyes as you thought you could see his base swell. In a blink it was buried in you and the first spurt of his cum chased the sensation.

The heat pooled as he filled you and his thumb came across as he seemed to test if he could feel that too. You tossed your head back with a breathy laugh as you ran out your orgasm and then his. Your grip loosened as your limbs liquefied and you could feel him pulling you. You slumped against his body and, with some slight adjustments, you were draped over his front in a snug fit. He secured you in place with his arms slung low around your waist and you sighed against his neck. You felt his own satisfied hum there and you started to drift off at the serenity of it all. You only roused at another gentle rearrangement.

“You okay?”

He gave a nod against the top of your head. Your lids grew heavy until your nose was pressed by him taking a deep inhale. “This is a pleasant pressure.”

Drowsy, it took you what felt like several minutes to put together that he was referring to the aftercare he hadn’t gotten previously. “Just call me your personal weighted blanket.”

“Stay still like one and I’ll call upon your assistance again in the future.”

The laugh caused your shoulders to bob and he gave you a lazy squeeze as a form of punishment for immediately breaking his request. You willed yourself to stop and gave his throat a small apologetic kiss.

“And you?” He lightly brushed your back which pressed you closer to him in an attempt get away from the tickling sensation.

“Just thinking about how intense your breeding kink is.”

From up top, the first thing you felt was how his shoulders stiffened. Next, his legs seemed to suffer a similar fate before finally his rapidly softened cocked gave a little twitch inside you at the thought.

“Exactly.”

You read embarrassment in the way a little more of the weight of his head leaned against yours.

You gave a sleepy smile.

“I can accommodate if that is not reciprocated.”

On the losing side of sleep, you barely managed a few centimeters in shaking your head. “I like it.”

“There’s no real concern-”

“It’s new; never had someone so desperate to knock me up.”

His grip around your waist gave a little downward tug and you felt the threat of a third time encroaching on your slumber.

“No…” You whined. “No more. Sleep now.”

“I believe there is an expression.”

“’Don’t threaten me with a good time’? I know, but too tired… no filter.”

“You can sleep once you’ve cleaned up.” He was already preparing to move.

You gave the first pitch of a pathetic whine before you cut it short. “Wait, are you… saying I can sleep over?”

“You have once already.” His arms retracted and you reluctantly pulled away from him.

“That was sort of without permission.”

He seemed to think that over. “Can you stand?”

You made a show that you were about to grab his shoulders before actually doing so. He supported your elbows and you pushed up with your knees. Your hips were locked and creaked painfully as you forced them into motion. He hovered close until you gave up on a straight lift off and instead swerved to fall over on one side. You forgot to account for the rush of cum and immediately pivoted to save the couch from the current. He seemed amused by your actions and quickly departed. You thought long and hard about standing when he returned with tissues. You both blotted what you could before you finally got to your feet.

Shaky, but stable, you gave him a wave that you were alright before padding to the bathroom. Clicking the light and closing the door behind you, you dropped onto the toilet. After taking care of yourself, you went to wash your hands and noticed something curious on the countertop. Drying off with a towel, you picked up a second tube of toothpaste that just so happened to be your preferred brand. “Donnie...”

This man was truly something else.

Listening, you didn’t hear a response and went to open the door. “Donnie, what’s this?!”

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #weakspotfic

59 notes · View notes

starfall-spirit · 8 months

Text

Rewrite the Stars

@officialfeysandweek2023

Day 5: Starfall

Read on Ao3

“We had danced. All of us together. And I had never seen Rhys so happy, laughing with Azriel, drinking with Mor, bickering with Cassian. I’d danced with each of them, and when the night had shifted toward dawn and the music became soft and honeyed, I had let Rhys take me in his arms and dance with me, slowly, until the other guests had left, until Mor was asleep on a settee in the dining room, until the gold disc of the sun gilded Velaris.”

~A Court of Mist and Fury, Pg. 441

AN: This was only supposed to be a moodboard, but @shallyne is constantly putting out little ideas I want to run away with. I'll just let the book quote serve as the summary.

“They’re a band of fools,” Rhys muttered, watching his drunken family members stumble towards various pieces of furniture one by one. The dawn was just kissing the sky as he was finally left alone with his mate once again. He loved his family to pieces, truly. And he had been smiling so often this evening his face was almost aching from it. It had been too long since he felt that joy. Since they all did.

And it was all thanks to the female beside him.

A slow melody was drifting over the dwindling crowd staying to embrace the morning, and as Feyre leaned against the red stone of the house to watch the pinkening sky he found his feet bringing him closer to her.

“I don’t think any sight could compare to the moment the stars fall, but there is something beautiful about the sunrise,” she said. “Maybe it’s just my imagination. Wanting to paint again may be changing how I view the simple things.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, either way. But I did mention before, dawn is exquisite to all of the solar courts. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself tonight.”

“How could I not? There’s certainly nothing like this in the human lands, and I’ve always found solace in the stars. To be beneath them tonight, here with you—” She paused, looking startled by her own confession as his own heart began to race. “—and the others. All of you, I mean.”

He reached out to cup her face, finding a bit of pink there beneath the shimmering dust from earlier. “Dance with me, Feyre. One last time, before we go home. Please?”

One more dance would never be enough, but it was all he could ask of her without pushing too hard. Even if he’d be cataloging every tender moment between them that night. Every intentional brush of fingers, every smile and laugh between them, every time she spun away from Cassian or Mor and right back into his arms, leaning into him before logic or fear had her pulling back to a more modest hold. He was a greedy bastard, clinging to those stolen moments, but he needed every one of them.

“I’d love that, Rhys.” She’d be the death of him, smiling like that. And he’d let her, if it meant she was healing at last. He squeezed her hand, drawing her away from the wall and back out to where the stragglers danced around them. She slid right into his arms, this time close enough to share breath. And as he started to lead her, she rested her head on his chest, the soft scent of her washing over him.

It would only take a few movements. Simple adjustments to shift his hand off of her waist and band his arm around her, to reach up and cradle her head, to lean down and press a kiss to her hair. All possibilities she may permit after everything that had changed between them.

All possibilities that could shatter the progress they had made. He couldn’t risk that, not even now with her body pressed to his, a tentative trust growing over these weeks. Months, he’d dare say. From the moment she left Spring, things had been changing, little by little. He had to hope this step wasn’t all to do with the wine they’d drank this evening. Or that she’d brush it off as only that, even if he didn’t deserve a happy ending with her.

“A thought for a thought?” Feyre mumbled into his chest sometime later, the visiting citizens long gone.

“Didn’t we already play that tonight?”

She shrugged. “You seem… pensive. I thought it might help. Was it too much after all, being with your family? You seemed happy earlier.”

He sighed, running a loose length of hair between two fingers. “I’m thinking, Feyre, that I’m more happy than ever. And I’m dreading the moment I have to fly you back to the town house and say goodnight.” He ducked his head, his nose brushing the side of her face as he brought his lips to her ear. “What’s your thought, darling?”

He couldn’t quite tell if it was the breeze around them or his tone that had her shivering in his arms, but he knew which he’d prefer. “I’m thinking I don’t want this to end either. But if I’m being honest, my feet are killing me.”

He chuckled, despite his disappointment that her confession broke the spell building between them. “Come on then. I’ll winnow back once we’re past the wards.”

She let him lift her in his arms, possibly holding her a little closer than was necessary. “Can we—can we fly the whole way? If you aren’t too tired?”

He smiled softly. “Why not.”

And as she curled her arms behind his neck, her head tucked under his chin, he knew he was utterly ruined for anyone else, regardless of what happened in this war. If he lost her…

He launched into the sky, flying directly to the townhouse and setting Feyre back on her own feet all too soon. “Goodnight, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Rhys.” And something in her voice, in her eyes, held him there at her door. “Goodnight,” she repeated, softer this time. And as he slipped into his own room, that hesitation turned into a restlessness he hadn’t felt between them before. Almost like—hope. As if—She couldn’t want that. Not from him. Never from him. That bridge was long since burned, no matter what sort of chemistry they may have as mates.

And if he told her now, she knew between the story he’d shared with her about his parents and whatever Tamlin had told her, most mated pairs would try to force the bond to work. She had endured enough out of obligation and he would not risk swaying her with such a strong sense of duty. Not when she was just finding her independence again. He tried to send something soothing down the bond between them and moments later he sensed her settling in at last, exhaustion at the young hour finally claiming her consciousness.

Rhys fell to his knees at his own door. And he wept.

~~~~~

Taglist:

@lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone

#feysandweek2023 #starfall #day 5 #acotar #feysand #moodboard #feyre archeron #rhysand #velaris #night court #oneshot #fluff #feysand fic

53 notes · View notes

crimson-calligraphyx · 10 months

Text

A/N: Bear with me about the childbirth; I've never given birth lol. There is also gore in minor detail in this chapter.

"Mom," I moaned out in agony, cradling my swollen belly as I entered my parent's bedroom. It was only 2 in the morning, and I certainly felt guilty waking them up in the middle of the night, but this was urgent. My mom stirs, breathing in deep and peeks her eyes open, my dad doing the same. "What is it, honey?" she croaks, her voice heavy with sleep. "My water just broke," I tell her, looking down at my soaked pajama pants, grimacing as I feel a contraction start to come on. I leaned against the doorframe, the pressure in my back becoming unbearable.

Within seconds, she's whipping the blankets off her and stepping into her slippers, rushing over to me. She braces me with a hand on my back as I let out a cry from the pain. "It's okay baby, let's get you in the car," she says gently as she takes my hand and starts to guide me down the hall. I can hear my dad grunt as he rolls out of bed to trail after us, grabbing the overnight bag that mom had helped me back prior.

It felt like an eternity before I settled into the car, having to stop short here and there as a contraction would come and render me motionless. I recline the seat so I could lie down, trying to get the least bit of comfort as my parents drove me to the hospital. Mom held my hand the entire way, letting me squeeze hers when needed. I tried to focus on her hand in mine, gritting my teeth and panting while trying to suppress my cries.

We made it to the hospital relatively quickly, and soon enough I was checked in and brought to the triage room. Everything was a blur as the nurse situated me with an IV and strapped a fetal monitor on my belly, amongst other things. The whole process seemed so invasive as they checked my cervix for dilation, but I knew that this was completely necessary.

Hours have passed, and I was finally admitted to the delivery room, having received an epidural after suffering through contraction after contraction. Before I knew it, it was time to push.

"Mom, I don't think I can do this," I cried, already exhausted after only a few pushes. "You got this," she encourages me, wiping the sweat from my forehead with a damp cloth. "You're my blood; you're tough as nails, Amelia." I let out a breathy laugh, my lips quivering as I tried not to let out another sob from both the ache of childbirth and her words of affirmation.

She was right of course because soon enough, my daughter was here and being placed on my chest. She was so beautiful, with her swath of dark hair and rosy cheeks smooshed against me as she snoozed. Her skin was so soft, so warm against mine, and I was immediately filled with joy, with peace. Everything felt right in the world at this very moment.

The air was frigid, my lungs burning with each inhale as I tried my best to keep my legs moving.

I halted, gasping for air as I spun in a circle, taking in the view around me. We were located on a large off-grid compound, boxed in by dilapidated split-rail wooden fences, surrounded by woods—I had no idea where to go.

Away. I just had to get away. I had to get help, I had to get Noah out of that prison.

There didn't appear to be any neighboring buildings, and the sun was starting to set, meaning I'd soon have no sunlight to help guide me through the woods. I cursed under my breath and picked a random direction, the thin layer of snow crunching under my feet as I ran.

I hobbled over the fence, stumbling momentarily from the uneven and slick mounds of leaves that were iced over from the snow. Still, I kept pushing myself to get further away from this Hell hole and hopefully closer to civilization, closer to help. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the house get smaller and smaller as I continued my trek and let out a breathy laugh—I was doing it, I was getting away.

The little bit of hope that I had gets ripped from me when a searing pain shoots through my ankle, causing me to collapse and land heavily on my chest and face. I tried to cry out from the pain in my leg, but the force from my fall knocked the wind right out of me, leaving me gasping for air. I was writhing against the ground, my lungs screaming for oxygen.

I rolled and pushed myself into a sitting position, and my eyes grew wide from the horrific sight of my leg, panic settling into my chest. I'm finally able to take a deep breath and belt out a cry, reaching for the contraption that was consuming my leg. With shaky hands, I tried my best to pull the jaws open, but to no avail with the amount of blood that was denying a secure grasp on the steel.

At this point I'm sobbing, not knowing what to do with the bear trap clamped around my ankle. Even if I found a way to release it, my ankle was surely broken—there was no way I could walk on it.

“Help!” I hollered, hoping there was a neighbor somewhere beyond the woods that could hear me. “Someone please help me!” All that answered me were my own echoes and the gentle creaking of branches as the wind blew by. Still, I kept calling out for help, my throat growing raw—maybe by the grace of God, my solace would appear and take me away from this nightmare.

I wasn't sure how long I cried for help, but eventually I gave up and collapsed onto the ground, exhausted. The sun had set, leaving me in the dark as the air grew colder, and at this point, I couldn't even feel my leg. I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head at myself—this was hopeless. I accepted that this was the way that I died: starving and freezing, with my leg bleeding profusely.

"Oh, dear. There you are." I hear Charles' voice suddenly, and I'm immediately plagued with dread. I pushed myself into a sitting position, my eyes landing on the silhouette approaching me as he shines a flashlight at me, malice permeating from him. "No! Stay away from me!" I screamed, trying to scoot away from him.

I don't have far to go, the bear trap restricting my mobility and relighting the fire that burned up my leg as I tried to pull against it. The teeth dug into me, tearing at my flesh with each move that I made, and I'm sobbing all over again.

"You really think I'd let you get away again?" he laughs deviously, crouching beside me. I kept trying to distance myself, tears rolling down my cheeks as I whimpered with each tug against the jaws. I was a blubbering mess, petrified of what he would do to me.

"Quit your crying," he seethes and snatches my face in his hand, his nails digging into my cheek. "This is what you get for being so foolish, Alice. Get up." "Fuck you!" I spit out, trying to free my face from his grimy hand. He grits his teeth, his eyes growing darker than the night as he takes a fistful of my hair, yanking me to my feet as he stands. My knee buckles from the weight on my ankle, a shooting pain running up my leg once again. He keeps me on my feet, manipulating my body with the grasp he has on my hair.

"We can do this easy way, or the hard way. Your choice," he glowers at me, animosity radiating from him as his eyes pierce through me. I remained silent, panting hard as the agony consumed what felt like every inch of my body. "That's what I thought," he sneers, letting go of my hair.

I lose my balance, falling backwards and landing hard on my backside as he crouches by my foot. He fiddles with the bear trap and releases it; I wail from the feeling of the teeth dislodging from my skin, the shock of it rendering me breathless and lightheaded. He yanks me to my feet again, this time by the arm he's hurt time and time again and begins to drag me back to his property.

When he brings me back down to the basement and dumps me on the mattress, I notice that Noah isn't here. I succumb to another wave of panic, the fear of being alone and the uncertainty of his well-being flooding my mind. Where was he? How badly was he hurt? Was he alive? Could I have prevented whatever happened to him if I had just stayed?

"What did you do to him?!" I shriek, forcing myself back onto my feet and leaned against the wall for support. "Oh, don't worry about your paramour; he got exactly what he deserved," he chuckles menacingly, beginning to turn back towards the door. Anger surged through me, and I throw myself at him, ignoring the searing pain in my leg. "You fucker!" I fisted his shirt with both hands, yanking him towards me, "Where is he?!"

He doesn't say anything, just laughs mischievously with a shake of his head. I pounded my fists against his chest in frustration, tears burning my eyes, "You sick fuck, tell me where the fuck he is!" He snatches my arms by the wrists, a scowl spreading across his features as I writhed, trying to break free from his grasp. "Now, now, Alice. What did I tell you about talking to your husband like th—"

Without thinking, I spit in his face.

He looks at me dumbfounded, his hands loosening their hold on me for a split second. His face contorts back into anger, growling, and he whips me towards him, throwing his head into mine. I see stars, blinking rapidly to clear my vision until he does it again, and everything goes black.

I wake up in a panic, feeling someone’s hand on my shoulder and blindly swing my arm out to push them away. “Don’t touch me!” I shout and sit up, panting, unsure of what was happening. “Woah, hey, it’s just me, Meels.” I hear Noah’s voice, and relief starts to take over. I sigh harshly and comb the front of my hair back with my hand. “Sorry,” I huffed, shaking my head. I finally lay eyes on him, and my heart sinks at the sight. His eye was swollen shut again, fresh blood dribbling down his face from his hairline, nose, and this time his mouth. His bottom lip was double the normal size and split open, most likely needing stitches to heal properly.

“I’m so sorry, Noah,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes from the guilt of just leaving him there. “I should’ve tried harder to get you out, or stayed and went back inside instead of running—” “Shh, Amelia, it’s okay,” he reaches out and puts a firm hand on my arm, “I told you to go.” “No! It’s not okay, Noah! Look at you,” I shake my head, crying. “It’s all my fault.”

He sits next to me and scoops me into his arms, cradling my head against his chest. My body tenses, unsure of how to respond to the gesture. I wanted to push myself away, yet I found myself also wanting to ease into him, wanting to allow him to soothe me, to comfort me the same way he did all those years ago.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispers, running his hand down my hair, “he was going to do this to me whether or not you tried to stop him.” “I-I swear I w-was going t-to find help,” I sputtered, having a hard time catching my breath with how hard I was crying. “I know, Amelia, I know,” he says gently, rubbing my back now. “Even if you hadn’t tried, I don’t care. I just wanted you to make it home to your daughter; that’s what really matters.”

She’s also your daughter—you need to make it out of here, too.

I found myself clinging onto his shirt and rolling my face against his chest—the sobs coming out of me were relentless. I couldn’t stop crying, the guilt of everything weighing down on me. The guilt of leaving him here, the guilt of not being able to find help for him, the guilt of how badly he was beaten because of my selfish choice. And most of all, the guilt of hiding Leora from him for nearly five years, and how much effort I put into keeping him out of her life.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t have the both of us die here, with him not knowing the truth. He deserves the truth.

“Noah,” I croaked, trying to find my voice, “Noah, please don’t be mad at me.” “I’m not mad, Amelia—” I force myself out of his arms, shaking my head. “No, not about this…for…for what I’m about to tell you.” I slide away from him, wincing from the pain in my ankle as I pushed myself against the dirt. I look at him with tears still rolling down my face, my lips trembling as he stares back at me with curiosity. He shakes his head, baffled, and I avert my attention to my hands, picking at the skin around my nails, the anxiety running rampant within me.

“Leora is your daughter.”

|Chapter 8|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #fanfic writing #romance #enemies to lovers #second chance romance

31 notes · View notes

the-fandom-abyss · 2 years

Text

Unwanted Attention

Fallon Carrington x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff ♡

Word Count: 663 words

You have attended many gatherings at the Carrington Mansion, and somehow they outdo the last. It's that time of year where employees, investors, family and everyone in between come together and have a night to remember. As glamorous as these nights sound, there are always hiccups along the way. For instance, tonight a employee of the family stood across the room from you. Their eyes wandered the length of your body, a sly smirk perched on his lips. He believed he looked appealing, while in reality, he looked like a predator wishing to devour his prey. This prey just happened to be you, what an unlucky turn of events for both of you. When he was ready to make his move, he slinked his way through the crowd until he was in your space.

Without sparing him another glance, you stated your intentions. "I would suggest, you move away from me, if you'd like to keep your job". The tone in your voice should have scared him away but this man liked a challenge.

"Like you have the power" he fought back, another belittling man to assume your worth.

"No I don't, but my partner does"

"Don't tell me you're with Blake"

"Ew, god no!" The look pure disgust would have offended the man in question. Instant relief flooded the mans features, clearly afraid of what Blake could do and would do to him.

"Steven?" This was more of a long shot, he knew Steven was otherwise inclined but he needed to be sure.

"He's gay" the statement was drawled out, like you couldn't believe what you were hearing. This man was dumb and blind, like he had a chance with you.

"I would turn for a woman like you" his sickly sweet tone made you shiver, his insinuation was more than disgusting. He took this opportunity to move closer to you, your arm grazing his, his fingers smoothing out the edge of your dress.

"Again, no"

"Well wh-"

Just as you were about to move from his grasp, a voice appeared behind you. "Is this man bothering you?"

"Yes, actually" Instinctively, you moved closer to the person behind you, grateful for the safety net. The man watched with curious eyes at the action, wanting to reach out and pull you closer.

"Miss Carrington, it’s just a little disagreement, my girlfriend can get a bit outspoken" Fallon scoffed at his pathetic reasoning, her glare never wavering.

"And here I thought she was mine" Fallon snaked her arm around your waist, resting her hand comfortably on your hip. His eyes followed the motion, growing wide at her strategically placed hand.

"Run" you mouthed, a sinister smile replaced its previous form. It was with pure joy to watch as the man opened and closed his mouth. Before scattering amongst the crowd in fear that Fallon would catch him. Little did he know, she would do far worse to him than catch him, she will ruin any chance of a professional life as soon as the night was over.

With her hand, she spun you around, her hand now placed on your lower back. Concern swirled behind the chocolate brown, she couldn’t stand the idea of someone touching what’s hers. "Did he touch you?"

"No, he was just disgusting"

"I'll make sure to wash you clean of him" she offered a wink, paired with her classic smirk.

"Can we add the bubbles that I like?" Her smirk melted into a smile at the excitement that vibrated off you. She couldn’t deny how it made her cold heart skip a beat, she just had to accept that she was putty in your hand.

"If you're lucky" Fallon traveled her hand up your body, creating goosebumps where her fingers touched. She cradled your cheek, before leaning in, her lips melting with yours. For you it was a moment of bliss, for her it was a statement. If they want to get to you, they’ll have to go through Fallon.

#dynasty #dynasty imagine #fallon carrington #fallon carrington imagine #fallon carrington x reader #dynasty x reader

209 notes · View notes

godsfavdarling · 2 months

Text

chapter 07

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!oc

summary: Molly and Spencer enjoy a playful date at the fair. Amidst the fun, Spencer's friends unexpectedly join them.

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist

warnings: none

words: 2,1k

Molly and Spencer strolled through the fairgrounds, taking in the vibrant atmosphere of colorful lights, the laughter of people, and the enticing aroma of fair food.

As they wandered past the thrilling rides, both agreed that the spinning attractions weren't exactly their cup of tea, opting for a more grounded experience.

Molly's eyes lit up when she spotted a shooting game, a row of adorable prizes tempting her.

"Hey, Spencer, how about a little friendly competition?" she suggested, pointing towards the shooting range.

Spencer grinned, always up for a challenge. "Sure, why not? Let's see who's the better shot."

They approached the game booth, where a friendly carnival worker explained the rules and handed them each a toy gun.

The competition heated up as they aimed for the targets, the sound of popping balloons filling the air. Spencer's competitive spirit kicked in.

Despite Molly's less-than-stellar performance, Spencer emerged victorious in the shooting game. Grinning triumphantly, he turned to Molly and said, "Looks like I get to choose the prize. What would you like?"

The carnival employee gestured towards an array of plushies, showcasing various options.

Molly's eyes gleamed with excitement as she confidently pointed to a pink bunny. "I want that one," she declared, her choice made since the moment she laid eyes on the booth.

Spencer nodded, enjoying the playful banter. "One pink bunny coming right up!" He exchanged a few game tokens for the coveted prize, handing the adorable plush toy to Molly with a satisfied smile.

As Molly cradled the pink bunny in her arms, she laughed and shook her head. "I don't know what I was thinking, trying to compete with you! I mean, you're an FBI agent, and you probably deal with... gun stuff all the time."

Spencer chuckled, appreciating her humor. "Well, I didn't want to show off too much," he teased. "Besides, it's all in good fun. We both had a great time, right?"

Molly nodded, smiling. "Absolutely. Even if my aim was terrible, I wouldn't trade this pink bunny for anything."

Standing near the teacup ride, Molly cast a hopeful glance at Spencer, her eyes sparkling with a playful plea.

"I know we said no rides, and I get that this one's for kids, but please, can we go on the teacups?" she asked, a touch of excitement in her voice.

Spencer couldn't resist the infectious enthusiasm in Molly's eyes. He chuckled and nodded, saying, "Alright, just this once. But you owe me a rematch at the shooting game afterward."

Molly grinned, thrilled at the unexpected turn of events. "Deal! Teacups first, then a rematch."

They joined the line, ready to embrace the whimsical joy of the spinning teacup ride, momentarily letting go of their earlier decision to skip the rides.

As Molly and Spencer hopped onto the teacup ride, the colorful cups began to spin, and the laughter erupted uncontrollably. The carefree joy of the ride transformed them into gleeful participants, their laughter echoing through the air.

However, as they spun around, they couldn't help but notice the curious stares from nearby kids, who eyed them with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

Molly and Spencer, undeterred by the odd looks, only laughed harder, enjoying the moment of childlike fun amidst the bemused glances of the younger riders.

After leaving the teacup ride, they found themselves unable to stifle their laughter.

Molly, still giggling, turned to Spencer with gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you," she said, her laughter blending with the words. "When I was little, I always begged my parents to let me go on the teacup ride, but they'd say it's stupid and a waste of money....

As I grew up, I promised myself I'd never miss a chance to go on a teacup ride whenever I could."

Spencer smiled, appreciating the sentiment. "Well, I'm glad we could make that happen today."

In the midst of their shared laughter and smiles, Spencer leaned in and planted a sweet kiss on Molly's lips. As their kiss deepened, a familiar whistle caught Spencer's attention.

As Spencer and Molly turned to acknowledge the familiar whistle, they were greeted by the sight of Derek and his girlfriend, Savannah, standing behind them with amused smiles.

Derek, wearing his signature mischievous grin, quipped, "Well, well, looks like the lovebirds found a little romance in the teacup whirlwind!"

Spencer and Molly exchanged amused glances, realizing that their tender moment hadn't gone unnoticed by Spencer's friends.

Feeling a hint of embarrassment, Spencer's cheeks tinged with a subtle blush as Derek and Savannah playfully stepped closer to them.

The mischievous duo exchanged knowing glances and turned their attention to Molly, teasing grins on their faces.

A palpable silence settled among the group. Spencer, still caught off guard, stared at his friends with a mix of surprise and amusement, while Molly, unaware of their identities, maintained a warm smile.

Breaking the silence, Derek cleared his throat and glanced at Spencer. "Well, Reid, are you going to introduce us to your lovely lady here?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Spencer, finally regaining his composure, chuckled. "Of course, where are my manners? Molly, This is Derek, who I've been working with on the same team for over a decade now and Savannah, his girlfriend"

"And this is Molly, my..." he hesitated, realizing he hadn't officially broached the topic of their relationship. The pause hung in the air, creating a moment of discomfort.

Molly, sensing the pause and wanting to alleviate the tension, offered a friendly smile and took the lead.

"I'm just Molly,"

Derek and Savannah, quick to pick up on the subtle dynamics, exchanged glances but graciously played along. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, just Molly," Derek said with a grin, diffusing the moment with humor.

Derek and Savannah, sensing the need for a change of atmosphere, broke the moment by suggesting, "We were about to grab a bite at one of the food trucks. Why don't you guys join us?"

Spencer and Molly exchanged glances, appreciating the friendly offer. "Sounds like a plan," Spencer replied with a grateful smile.

Molly nodded in agreement.

Spencer couldn't shake the feeling that Molly might have felt a bit upset by the awkward introduction. He sensed a shift in her demeanor – her eyes seemed to glisten with a hint of dampness.

Wanting to address the discomfort he inadvertently caused, Spencer discreetly pulled Molly aside. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to make things awkward. I should've asked you how you wanted to be introduced."

Molly, appreciating Spencer's sincerity, managed a small smile. "It's okay, really. I should've been clearer about what we are. It's just... "

Spencer nodded understandingly. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

Molly's smile grew, and she reached for Spencer's hand. "Let's just enjoy the rest of the evening."

The group settled at a table near the taco truck, the tantalizing aroma of sizzling ingredients wafting through the air as they waited for their orders. The vibrant colors of the fair illuminated the surroundings, providing a lively backdrop to their impromptu meal.

Conversation flowed easily as they perused the menu, sharing anecdotes about favorite fair foods and recalling memorable fair memories from childhood.

The shared laughter and the clinking of glass bottles blended with the distant sounds of fair attractions, creating a moment of friendship that overshadowed any lingering awkwardness.

As the tacos arrived, the group dug into the delicious fare, savoring each flavorful bite.

Savannah, intrigued, turned her attention to Molly. "So, Molly, tell us a bit about your job. Working with kids must be quite an adventure."

Molly's eyes lit up as she began sharing her experiences. "It's absolutely delightful. My kids are at that age where everything is an adventure! And every day is filled with surprises!"

Savannah smiled. "Elementary school sounds like such a fun age group. What grade do you teach?"

"I teach second grade," Molly replied. "They still carry that wide-eyed wonder about the world."

Derek, ever the inquisitive one, asked, "Any particularly memorable moments in your time as a teacher?"

Molly began recounting heartwarming stories and amusing anecdotes from her experiences with the elementary school students.

She recounted the time when the class held a creative writing project, and the imaginative stories the kids came up with had everyone in stitches.

From adventurous tales of magical creatures to heartwarming narratives about friendship, Molly painted a vivid picture of the vibrant and imaginative world of her students.

"There was this one time," Molly continued, "when we had a science experiment involving baking soda and vinegar. The excitement in their eyes when the concoction bubbled up was priceless. It's very simple but moments like those... make teaching so special."

After a while Derek, in his usual teasing manner, grinned at Spencer and said, "Hey, Reid, I hope you didn't forget something important coming up."

Spencer, always on top of his memory game, smirked back, "You know I don't forget things, especially birthdays."

Derek chuckled, "Right, right, Mr. Eidetic Memory. I just had to check. We're counting on you for some trivia and impressive birthday wishes."

Spencer, with a good-natured nod, assured them.

Savannah with an excited smile said to Molly, "My birthday is coming up, and it's on the 4th of July. We're throwing a little celebration, and I really hope you can make it. It would mean a lot to have you there! What do you think?"

Molly, touched by the invitation and the thoughtful gesture, responded with a warm smile, "Savannah, that sounds wonderful! I'd be honored to join!"

Molly gave Spencer a curious look, wondering why he hadn't mentioned his friend's party that is just three days away, especially considering Morgan seems to be both his best friend and coworker.

The thought crossed her mind that maybe Spencer didn't want her to attend the party.

..........................

After a delightful time filled with stories and laughter, Derek and Savannah eventually announced their departure. "Well, we should be heading out," Derek said, rising from his seat. "It was really great meeting you, Molly."

Savannah echoed the sentiment, "Absolutely! See you again soon."

Molly smiled warmly, expressing her gratitude. "Thank you both! It was lovely meeting you as well. See you!"

As Derek and Savannah bid their farewells, the fairgrounds buzzed with the energy of the evening. Spencer and Molly remained seated at the table.

Spencer, sensing a lingering tension from earlier, turned to Molly with a thoughtful expression, a trace of concern in his eyes.

"Molly," he began, his voice gentle, "I want to apologize again for that awkward moment earlier. I should have handled the introduction better."

Molly, feeling a bit caught off guard, asked, " Why didn't you tell me about the party?"

"I meant to but... things got a bit busy. I wanted to ask if you'd like to go with me. I really did. It's just... We haven't known each other for long, and I didn't want to pressure you into anything. But, if you're up for it, I'd really like you to come with me."

Molly was quiet, processing the information. A subtle shift in her expression indicated her internal thoughts.

Spencer, sensing the need to also address the earlier awkward introduction, added, "And I'm sorry about earlier. My friends showing up unexpectedly caught me off guard, and... I should have... I don't know. I'm sorry."

Molly, appreciating Spencer's sincerity and being too tired to fight, offered a reassuring smile. "It's okay, really. I'm not upset. Well... I am, but I had a great time with your friends, and they seem like lovely people."

Spencer still couldn't shake the thought that he hadn't officially asked Molly to be his girlfriend. The desire to make things right gnawed at him, and he finally mustered the courage to broach the subject.

"I'm sorry about everything and... Molly," Spencer began, his tone earnest, "I know I never officially asked you to be my girlfriend and I'm not sure if this is the best moment..."

Molly looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and warmth. Spencer continued, "I wanted it to be perfect, and I'm sorry it didn't happen that way. I kind of figured that we're already dating in a way, but I realized I never asked you officially. I don't want there to be any confusion. So, Molly... will you... be my girlfriend?"

Spencer's heart raced as he awaited Molly's response, hoping that despite the unconventional circumstances, she would understand the sincerity behind his words.

Molly's eyes lit up, a smile forming on her face. "Spencer, I thought we were dating, too. And I'd also love to make it official. Yes, I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Spencer, elated and relieved, couldn't resist the impulse to kiss Molly. As their lips met in a sweet, tender moment, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the clarity they had just established.

Breaking the kiss, Spencer looked into Molly's eyes with a gentle smile. "I'm really sorry... and I really want you to meet everybody. I just wanted everything to be perfect."

Molly chuckled, her laughter echoing through the fairgrounds. "Nothing's ever perfect, you know? And everything is okay. The fact that you care this much... means the world to me."

Relief and joy washed over Spencer as he pulled Molly into a warm embrace.

#keep holding on #spencer reid x oc

11 notes · View notes