#and when he doesn't want to eat something sweet he says his sweet tooth has died

[muffinlance]

Toddler: My sweet tooth is like a phoenix, it is reborn every year

#important toddler translations: he thinks year and day are the same time frame #and when he doesn't want to eat something sweet he says his sweet tooth has died #but it grows back when more delicious things appear #ergo #the sweet tooth phoenix #which I think we can agree the world deserves

[renoed]

sweet tooth | halsin x reader

❥ — PAIRING halsin x afab! reader

❥ — SUMMARY Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters.

# NSFW, MDNI: smut below the cut, outdoor sex, food play (specifically honey), oral sex, spit, praise, fingering, finger sucking

"If I manage to break the curse… perhaps then I can show you just how grateful I am."

Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters. It isn't until tonight that you notice it.

When you set up camp, you notice that he's put his tent quite a distance away from anyone else. You often found him in a location that was further from everyone (he liked his solitude, you assumed), but the space between your tent and his would make it seem as though you were strangers. From your place next to the campfire, you could hardly see more than an outline of the druid.

It's when he doesn't join you for food that you begin to worry - had he decided he didn't want to travel with you anymore? Was he going to leave without warning?

"Gale," you grab the brunet's attention after you finish eating, "thank you again for cooking. I was wondering: do we still have that honey? I remember Halsin saying he has a sweet tooth—I thought it might be appreciated."

Gale's lips quirk up at your question, a suggestive eyebrow raising as he answers your question, "I believe we do, you should be able to find it—unopened—in that trunk besides the other camp supplies. I hope you make better use of it than I have."

You try your best to ignore the implication of his words, but suddenly the camp fire feels a lot warmer and the cool breeze is soothing against your cheeks. As you walk off, mumbling a thanks, you hear a light laugh from the wizard.

With a jar of honey and a small satchel of berries (you had remembered picking them up a few hours prior, excitedly rummaging for them in your bag) in your hands, you stood a few feet away from Halsin's tent, trying to find the courage to start a conversation. Usually it didn't feel difficult; if anything, you found him to be one of the easiest to talk to. But with the thought of him no longer wanting to travel together—no longer enjoying your company—it was as though you had become enwebbed, unable to move closer.

It felt like you were there for tens of minutes before Halsin appeared from his tent, turning to look at you, a soft 'oh' leaving his lips.

If you weren't already stuck in place, you had become so when his eyes met yours.

"I didn't realise you were here, apologies," his voice is gentle and he steps towards you in the dark, "did you need something?"

You look down at the jar in your hands and will yourself to speak, "You didn't eat with us, so I wanted to make sure everything was alright, I suppose."

A beat.

"—And I remembered you telling me you liked sweet things. I wanted to give you this."

Halsin lets his eyes drift down to your hands, which were now outstretched, before meeting your gaze again. His lips curl up into a smile and you swear that you can see the stars reflected in his eyes. It hits you that, if he really is thinking about leaving, you might not get another opportunity to talk to him like this again.

"I don't know what I've done for a gift, but thank you. Really."

He takes a step closer, taking the items in his hands, as he continues, "I'm sorry for not joining you, my mind has been rather… preoccupied, and I thought it best to spend some time alone. I've also been enjoying the company of the stars: aren't they beautiful tonight?"

You shift your eyes to look at the night sky. A crescent moon hangs amongst a cluster of stars, stretching out across the darkness. He's right, they are beautiful.

"You said you've been preoccupied? If you need my help, you know I'm just an ask away," the sincerity of your words causes a small chuckle to leave his lips, gaze falling from the sky to his feet.

"Believe me, I would love for you to help, but that would be an unfair request."

The statement is slightly confusing; he seemed to have no issues asking for help with considerably difficult tasks prior. You could hardly fathom the sheer size of a task was if Halsin felt he couldn't ask for your help.

Betrayed by your expression, he lets out another laugh, louder this time, "you misunderstand, it's simply a matter of personal frustration. Unfortunately, I've managed to get rather pent up."

It isn't until you hear those words—'pent up'—that you realise the meaning behind them. You recalled him making an off-hand comment at the Tiefling party about how he was ‘sure that we could get out any pent up feelings'. He had never acted on his words, of course, but he had put them out there nonetheless.

"It wouldn't be unfair at all," your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, "actually, I'd be more than happy to help and I think you know that, Halsin."

His eyes meet yours again, expression still soft and gentle under the soft glow of the moon. He takes a step towards you, so that your chests are almost touching. You don't break eye contact, newfound confidence surging through you.

He brings his face close to yours, peering down at you, “you’re sure it would be alright?”

You nod in response, his eyes momentarily widening before he uses his free hand to lightly hold your upper arm. His voice is a soft whisper when it leaves his mouth, “Gods, I can’t tell you how long I have wanted this.”

Halsin closes the space between you, drawing you into a kiss. His hand shifts from your arm to your cheek, the pads of his fingers are rough on your skin but they’re the last things you’re thinking about with his lips pressed to yours.

The kiss is quick, almost polite in its softness, and as Halsin pulls away, you feel your brows furrow.

“Your expression betrays you,” there's a humour to his tone, “would you like me to try again?”

You answer his question with another kiss, hands wrapping around the back of his neck and fingers tangling into his hair. It's deeper this time, more passionate, needier, and when Halsin's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you're quick to comply with the silent request.

When you lightly tug on his hair, parting from the kiss, a low groan tumbles from his lips and rushes straight through you.

"You're good at this," his thumb brushes your cheek as he kisses you again. His kisses move down your face and neck, occasionally licking and biting at the skin until a shaky exhale leaves your lips. Your legs feel weak and every inch of you is warm, rushed heartbeat echoing in your ears; if you weren't so distracted you'd assume he could hear it.

When he pauses his movements, you take the opportunity to tug on his hair again, letting one of your hands fall from his neck to his chest, slowly getting lower, "just good?"

He hums when your finger tugs on his waistband, "amazing. Perfect, even."

You slide your hand underneath his shirt and he takes a sharp inhale at the contact. It had been so long since the last time someone had touched him like this; it had been longer since he had wanted to be touched—and to touch—so desperately. As you try to lift his top, though, he pulls back and gestures to the jar in his hand. You expect him to just put it down and continue, however you're left slightly disappointed when he breaks away from you entirely and opens the jar. His fingers dip into the jar, pulling out a string of glistening, viscous honey and bringing it to his lips.

You're left to watch helplessly, his tongue dragging from the base of his fingers to the tip and humming at the sweetness of the substance. It was impossible not to let your mind cloud over with images of those same fingers covered with your slick, dipping them into his mouth.

"Come here," it's a command, but it's gentle, easing you into doing as he says, "try some."

Halsin dips his fingers into the honey again, this time lifting his fingers to your lips. You take them in your mouth and run your tongue across them, enjoying the taste of the honey but entirely more focused on keeping your gaze locked with Halsin's. He lightly pumps them in and out of your mouth, cursing under his breath when you move your head to match the gentle pace.

You'd become used to Halsin being so composed and articulate—seeing him reduced to swears and fervent touches made you crave more of him, releasing his fingers and pulling him into another feverish kiss. You both moan into it, hands wanderings across each other's bodies: groping and grasping, trying to remove articles of clothing without pulling your lips away.

His hands land at the top of your thighs, tugging on them in a request for you to jump and hook your legs around his waist. He holds you in one arm with ease, using the other to tug at your shirt.

You kiss his neck, his grip tightening around you in response as his eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation.

"Please," he breathes out your name like a prayer, "I want you."

Leaning back, you stare into his eyes, kissing him again, "Gods, I thought you'd never ask."

Halsin puts you down and you rush to undress each other, sharing kisses whenever your hands aren't in the way. His body is incredible, and you're caught unashamedly staring from your sitting position as he tugs off the last of his clothes.

"You're really beautiful, you know?"

He smiles at your words, letting his eyes wander across you in a similar manner, "beautiful isn't enough to describe you."

When he gets onto his knees you can't help yourself from thinking of the sight as holy.

You watch as he dips his fingers into the honey jar and lifts them above your legs, letting it drip onto your skin like a gold glaze. It's cold and sticky but when he drags his tongue against you, licking the honey with it, you've all but forgotten the feeling.

His other hand, free of honey, lightly trails between your legs before stopping and running a finger between your folds.

"Fuck, you're soaked" if you weren't so eager, you'd be embarrassed. He had hardly touched you, yet your body was already begging for more.

He presses feather-light kisses up your inner thigh, taking his time as he follows and licks at the trail of honey, occasionally stopping to suck and nip at your skin, smiling when a soft gasp is drawn from your lips, "good girl."

Before he stops between your legs, he shifts to your hips and continues his upwards trails. You whine at the feelings of his lips around your nipple, lightly grazing his teeth against it while he thumbs and rolls the other in his fingers. You aren't sure if it's what he's doing or just him, but the touch is enough to make you moan, lightly bucking your hips into him.

"Impatient are we?" he chuckles, kissing back down to your thighs

When he's tasted the last of the honey, spread across the top of your thigh, he moves back slightly and watches as you squirm in anticipation.

"Did you want something else from me?" his voice is low and sickly sweet as he grabs your right thigh, rubbing soft circles in the skin with his thumb.

You nod in response, gasping out a slightly frustrated 'yes please', which is all he needs to start kissing again, trailing up the skin until his lips land on your cunt. He places one more kiss before using his tongue, dragging it upwards until it prods at your clit. You feel yourself throb under him, lightly bucking your hips forward as he drags his tongue in slow, circular motions.

He presses a finger inside you, thrusting a couple of times before curling it up. You moan under his touch, moving a hand to thread into his hair, desperately helping to create friction by grinding against his mouth.

His grip on your thighs tightens and he hikes one of your legs over his shoulder before slipping a second finger inside of you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way and when he leans back, only to spit on your cunt, you feel yourself clench around his fingers.

After a few thrusts, he lowers his mouth back onto your clit, flattening his tongue against it to lick and rub. His unused hand has an iron grip on your thigh, moving it so he could get his fingers deeper inside, curling them into you until a knot forms in your stomach. You instinctively grind your hips against his face, moaning as he begins to speed up. His actions are filled with need and when he feels your thighs twitch he takes that as a sign to continue, building you up to your edge.

You can only whine in pleasure when he moves his hand from your thigh to your abdomen, pressing down on it lightly. Your body twitches again and when he presses his tongue down onto your clit slightly harder it causes your thighs to instinctively close around him, bringing you to orgasm.

Halsin pulls away as you both catch your breath. From his position above you, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. He takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, sitting back onto his knees and taking his cock into his other hand. He strokes himself as you shift to sit facing him, legs weak and breathing still heavy.

Leaning forward, you replace his hand with yours before bringing him into another kiss. He grunts when you pull away, circling your thumb around his tip and pressing kisses onto his chest and neck.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice desperate and needy.

“Gods, Halsin, yes. I want this— I want you.”

You can barely finish your sentence before your back is on the grass again, caged in the druid’s arms. He pushes a knee between your legs and lowers himself to kiss you again. You’re ready to start begging him to fuck you when he moves to position himself at your entrance.

He doesn’t move, just lifts his head to meet your gaze with a teasing grin on his face, “I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me.”

You don’t care about your pride, cursing before sputtering out, “I want you to fuck me, please, Halsin.”

The reaction is almost instant. Halsin sinks into you slowly, gently, keeping eye contact until you’ve taken every inch of him. He thrusts into you, drawing out a whiney moan, and leans down to kiss and nip at your lips.

Your name tumbles from his lips, unrelenting as he grabs your waist to push himself deeper into you, “Fuck— you feel so good”

His full attention is on you, moving a hand so he can thumb at your clit while pounding into you. A broken gasp escapes you, tightening around his cock at the touch, which gains a low groan in response. 

You're a writhing mess beneath him, hands searching for anything they can grab onto. Halsin slows his pace so he can adjust your leg onto his shoulder, leaning forwards and sweeping up both your hands into one of his. The position lets him hit even deeper, the feeling is overwhelming, unable to stop the endless string of moans leaving your lips.

His pace is relentless, only slowing to carefully adjust the position so he could keep thumbing at your clit easily. You lift your head and he meets you halfway in a kiss. He leans down to your ear, breathing heavy, and groans out your name, "I want you to cum for me."

Just the words themselves have you clenching around his cock again, but when he presses harder into your clit, already overly sensitive and stimulated, it pushes you over the edge again, moaning out his name. The sensation is enough to have Halsin on the brink of his own orgasm, pace stuttering slightly.

By Gods does he never want this moment to end, he could mistake it for Heaven.

Your name is all he can manage to say as he continues, pulling out of you almost fully before rocking his hips back into you. The hand on your clit leaves to grasp at your hips, pulling you down onto him. He can feel you throb around him, "I'm gonna—"

He pulls out at the last second, decorating your thighs and stomach with strings of his cum. The sight is almost enough for him to bring his tongue back down to your cunt, indulging in you more, but you're both exhausted and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto you.

"Let me clean you up," he manages between heavy breaths, moving away to grab a clean rag and wipe you down, "you're absolutely wonderful, I hope you know that."

Halsin leans down to kiss you; it's tender and gentle, you can't help but smile into it.

"I could say the same for you," comes your reply, "come lie with me?"

It takes no convincing before Halsin is lying at your side, arms wrapped around you. Any thoughts you had had about him leaving the camp are long forgotten and you can feel yourself begin drifting off in the comfort of his warm grasp.

reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡ [masterlist]

#halsin x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate halsin #halsin #reader insert #smut #bg3 smut #x reader #renoed

[amomentsescape]

Hey, do you have any slasher X reader where the reader loves baking?

Slashers with Reader That Loves Baking

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, & Stu

A/N: Hmm... I don't think I do. Looks like I need to whip up another fic. Here you go!

Freddy Krueger

Although Freddy doesn't need to eat, he'll try anything you make him!

He's happy that you have a hobby that you enjoy during the day

He's even happier that he gets to taste the results

Whenever you visit him, he makes sure the dream world has a kitchen for you in case you want to make something while you're there

You're more inclined to bake there anyways because Freddy can get you just about any ingredient your heart desires

When you do make items, Freddy switches into his "Kiss the Cook" apron and matching hat

He may not help you with the baking, but he still expects kisses while you work

He'll stand beside you, just observing everything you do

He doesn't ask too many questions either, he just likes seeing you relaxed

Once the treats are ready, he literally stabs a few onto his knifed glove and eats them off of it

There hasn't been a single thing you've made that he hasn't enjoyed

Michael Myers

Michael is pretty neutral with your enjoyment of baking

He tends to his hobbies, you tend to yours

He doesn't feel like there needs to be any crossover of sorts

However, he won't deny you when you ask him to try things

And if you need help accessing the top shelf, he'll help you out

He secretly has a big sweet tooth, and your warm smile influences him to try everything (he'd be dead before he admitted it though)

He has a pretty basic taste in sweets too

He enjoys the majority of the cookies, cakes, and breads you've made

He isn't a big fan of pie or dried fruits though

If you make a batch of anything, he'll try a bite if you ask, but that'll be it

You're always certain he's just trying to be polite

But whenever you wake up in the morning, half the tray is gone

Michael will just shrug it off of course

But it's pretty obvious he enjoys your treats

Jason Voorhees

He absolutely loves that you bake!

To be fair, he'd love literally anything you do that makes you happy, but baking reminds him a lot of his missed childhood

You've made a couple things already that reminded him of stuff his mother used to make, and it almost brought him to tears

He doesn't really get sweet cravings like he did when he was younger, but he will never say no to trying something of yours

He also enjoys decorating some of the treats too

His large hands tend to fumble a bit, and nothing comes out as good as yours, but he's having fun, and that's what matters most to you both

His favorite thing is coming home after a long day to the smell of baked goods and to see you casually mixing ingredients together

You just seem so content, and it gives him a taste of what domestic life is like with you

He'll always come over to greet you with a hug, not caring if you're covered in flour

And once he's gotten cleaned up, he just sits at the table out of the way, watching you

He especially loves when you talk to him while baking

It just makes him all warm inside

Thomas Hewitt

He never really grew up with home baked goods like yours before, so it feels like literal heaven when he smells the sugar in the air

He likes walking up and peering over your shoulder, trying to see what you're doing

He also just likes hanging out with you in case you need help with anything

If your arms ever get tired from mixing or kneading, you know who to ask

If you let him, he'll take little tastes of the batters, predicting how much he's going to like them once they're done

(It's always a 10/10)

If it's sweet, he likes it

There's never been anything you've made that he didn't eat almost all of in one night

He loves if you make enough for the whole family too!

He's a bit hesitant to help decorate, and even more so to help add ingredients

But if you ask, there's no way he'd be willing to say no

Bubba Sawyer

He adores your baking!

He absolutely has no idea what you're doing half the time, but he's happy about it all the same

You've got to be careful with this one though

Because if you even turn around for a second, the batter is gone

Same goes for when the treats are cooling

If you leave the kitchen, they'll be gone within just a couple minutes

You have no idea how he manages to do it

At least he's showing you just how much he loves your bakery?

But besides that, he's a great hand to have in the kitchen

He can mix and mix for days

And he's always there to help hand you whatever you need

Just don't trust him with the powders unless you want a white, dusty kitchen

He's also not the best around the hot oven, having burnt himself a handful of times

It's kind of like having a helpful but clumsy child in the kitchen with you

But he's so sweet you can't bare to tell him to leave

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms never grew up with many sweets in the house

So having his own baker at home is like feeding a starving man

And with Brahms, you can imagine how that goes

Will come to you almost every day with a new treat he is craving

In fact, he even added to the rules list that you needed to make him a bedtime treat or else he refuses to go to sleep

You love baking of course, so it's not a problem, but some of his requests are absurd

A pie covered in chocolate ice cream smooshed with cookies and drizzled with brownie batter might be a bit much for a midnight snack

But you honestly did it to yourself

The moment he tasted your treats, there was no going back

And be careful when the sugar rush hits

He's ready to bounce off the walls with you in tow

Norman Bates

Norman has always been one for domestic hobbies

So the fact that you're a baker makes him feel so cozy and warm

Waking up to fresh muffins with his tea, coming home to a plate of brownies, and even being woken up in the middle of the night to some wild cookie recipe all makes Norman so happy

Jokingly complains that you're fattening him up

He's honestly a pretty good baker himself, although he argues that his skill is nowhere near as good as yours

But there have been a handful of times he prepare his own treat beside you in the kitchen, and it always came out amazing

And because of his experience, he's happy to give a lending hand when you need

If you're making something you know by heart instead, then he's still there beside you, keeping up with the dishes so you don't have to tend to a mess later

Norman enjoys whatever makes you happy, and is eager to learn even more about what you love too!

Billy Loomis

He's pretty chill about it at first

He thinks it's a cute hobby, but doesn't know much about it himself

However, the first time he was actually there with you watching you work and tasting what you made...

He really gained a better perspective on it

He can see the hard work and true enjoyment you put into the hobby, and this makes him appreciate it more

He's not huge on sweets, but seeing you put all of this together for him makes it impossible to deny them

Will be brutally honest if he likes something or not, but there's truly only been a couple times he actually didn't like what you made

Will occasionally sit on the counter beside you and just ask basic questions

"What does this thing do?" "How long does it need to sit there?" "Is there a difference between folding and mixing?"

You always smile at him since his genuine curiosity is cute

Plus, it shows he's trying to learn more about what you do

Will definitely stand behind you and rest his head on your shoulder while you work

Stu Macher

You love to bake? Well, Stu loves to eat

Match made in heaven in his eyes

He honestly is surprised by the amount of effort that it takes to whip up a simple cookie or cupcake

He's not usually on this end of the food process

But he honestly enjoys watching what you do

Will literally just stare and zone out, making you laugh

Loves loves loves when it's time to lick the spoon

He will dab batter onto your nose though

He's a huge fan of helping you decorate too!

Just be careful, because Stu is also a huge fan of squeezing the piping bag directly into his mouth

But surprisingly, Stu has become pretty decent at piping frosting and making your treats look pretty

He always insists on eating the ones you decorate though because they "taste better"

He honestly just loves being able to show praise for the stuff you make him and will always request a fun treat to accompany your weekly movie nights

#slashers x reader #slasher preference #slashers headcanon #slashers preference #slashers #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #michael myers #halloween #halloween movie #jason voorhees headcanons #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire headcanon #the boy 2016 #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher headcanons #scream movie

[ackermai07]

hi there !! i hope you're having a great day so far ^^

i wanted to request the three musketeers (katsuki, izuku, shoto) that give prince/ss treatment to reader ! like the reader is just so tooth-rotting sweet that the boys can't help but treat reader that way ฅʕ◍·̀·́◍ʔฅ

you are so free to ignore this if its not up to your taste ^^ thank you in advance !! 💌🍰

girl you're crazy if you think this isn't up to my taste, you literally blessed me with this! Anyways I hope you have fun reading, enjoy!

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Todoroki, Bakugou, Midoriya, fem!reader

𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: headcanon, fluff!

Don't repost!

The one thing we all agree on.

He'll cook for you.

No one argues with this; he's literally your personal chef.

He'll always make sure you eat well, whether you're a big eater or not.

This damn guy will literally stuff your stomach and cook for you anytime.

You can wake him up even at 2 a.m., and he won't mind, like:

"Hey, Katsu... I'm feeling kinda hungry... so-"

"Shut up, I already know."

And boom, he'll get up to cook a delicious meal for you and make sure you go to sleep feeling full.

He also loves styling your hair, no matter the type.

Straight, wavy, curly, it doesn't matter.

Just tell him how you want your hair, and he'll do it professionally.

He does most of the chores for you, like cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, etc.

He absolutely hates seeing you tired or exhausted; he sees himself strong enough to do everything.

"You weren't created for exhaustion, not even your beautiful ass deserves to be tired from sitting."

Another reason he always holds you in his arms when you're alone together.

He always brings snacks for you at school.

At the end of each class, he turns around to give you candy or chocolate to keep you energized.

(He completely refuses to admit he brought them for you, always saying he got them by chance.)

When you're sitting in the dorm with others, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder if you're tired.

He absolutely doesn't let you go downstairs; he always carries you bridal style while going down while you're in his arms.

His excuse is that you're too foolish and will definitely trip and fall and hurt yourself.

(He loves you dearly and worries about you like crazy.)

Did I mention he's your guard dog?

Wherever you are, he walks behind you and gives death glares to anyone who dares to stare at you.

He also makes sure every day that he's the first person to say good morning or goodnight to you, whether in person or through messages.

He's not a big person with words, but he makes sure to say "I love you" enough times because he knows it makes you happy.

Believe me, he's just there for your happiness (I would die for this man).

This boy is the epitome of sweetness.

He's not just a green flag, he's the whole forest.

One thing I'm sure of is that he'll take notes for you during classes.

Even if you've already taken your own notes, he doesn't mind.

He still brings your notebooks and edits your notes to make them look like his own.

If you ask him why he does this, he simply replies:

"Just to ensure our information is the same so we don't have any problems when we study together."

He just loves being the reason behind your intellectual growth and knowing that he's helping you.

Every night, literally every night, he braids your hair.

Because he simply read that braiding hair before bed helps keep it healthy.

(He loves touching your hair and smelling its scent.)

Speaking of nighttime, he takes you for walks at night when everyone else is asleep and lies on the grass to watch the sky just because you told him you love seeing the stars.

He's literally the kind of gentleman who lays his jacket over a puddle of water for you to walk on so you don't get wet.

He has a sixth sense about you, so for example, whenever something bad happens to you, he's already there to fix it.

He's 100% ready to defend you against anyone and doesn't feel embarrassed to stand up to them either.

He carries your bag for you on the way to school and back to the dorm, insisting on it even when you say it's okay.

He loves sharing his food with you; he always does.

No matter what it is, he always makes sure you take at least a bite of it.

"I don't taste the food's flavor until I share it with you."

He always keeps your hands intertwined and makes sure you're close to him, especially in crowds.

Every day, he makes sure to kiss you on the cheek and tell you how perfect you are, how lucky he is to have you, and how much he loves you.

This guy is literally like a character from books.

He has a top-notch degree in princess treatment.

He buys you anything you want, no matter what.

Even if it's a car plated with gold, he'll always fulfill your desires.

He flirts with you, but in poetic ways.

For example, he reads a love quote or a poem and makes sure to dedicate it to you.

Either he writes it for you on a paper and places it on your desk in your room before you wake up, or he whispers it in your ear just to drive you crazy.

He loves seeing you shy and flustered.

He also buys you books, a lot of them.

The reason for that is your talk about a story or a novel.

Be sure that by tomorrow he'll present you with the entire book series along with a red rose.

"Shoto! You didn't have to do that!"

"If my girl desires something, she gets it."

(Help me... I'm melting while writing this)

He lets you do anything to him literally.

Braiding his hair, putting makeup on him, dressing him up as you wish... etc.

Just say the word, and he's like, "Yes, ma'am"

(Once you put your daily makeup on him, and literally you cried because he looked more beautiful than you by miles.)

This man is literally carrying your bags when he takes you shopping.

And he doesn't complain; it gives him a sense that he's your strong man.

He also allows you to try makeup on the back of his hand.

(He's as pale as hell.)

He carries you on his back if you feel tired from walking.

Or in other words, if he feels it, which means he always carries you on his back.

So you won't tire from something as silly as walking.

He knows that everyone is looking at both of you, but does he care? Of course not.

(I feel like he's read "The Art of Indifference" at least 100 times.)

He's the kind of guy who allows you to wear anything you want.

You might come to him not sure about your clothes, and he simply shrugs in indifference.

"Wear whatever you want; I can fight."

(But not too revealing because you won't get away with it.)

One of his greatest features is that he uses his quirk to either warm you up or cool you down according to the weather.

He always gives you his jacket even without you asking because he knows that his scent calms you down and also ensures that you're warm.

Like the others, he makes sure you eat well and goes crazy if he knows you haven't.

(I think this is an Asian thing...)

This might seem gross, but on the contrary, it's not the case for him, but he allows you to spit out the food you didn't like on his hand.

He tells you to do it in the most poetic expression ever.

He hugs you a lot, first because he loves being close to you and secondly to stick his scent to you, so people can smell you and know that you're his

(he has a special scent so..)

(I've written a lot for him, I know, and I'm sorry, but I love him so much that I couldn't stop!!)

I hope you had fun reading! Please feel free to request more whenever you like!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #shouto todoroki #todoroki x reader #fanfic #shoto x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #idk #todoroki x reader headcanons #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader headcanons #izuku x reader headcanons #princess treatment

[stabbing-in-the-dark]

Giving Slashers flowers!!!

This post will include RZ Michael Myers, Jason, Billy Lenz, Thomas Hewitt, and Brahms Heelshire. Reader is gn or male. We're just starting to write so please be kind.

RZ Mikey

[Cue silent head tilt]

He understands the sentiment behind the gesture, but doesn't get why you'd give him flowers.

Poor guy doesn't think he deserves them :(

Will probably dry and/or press the flowers and incorporate the dried petals into his masks, and might even make you a mask of your own as a 'thank you' (wear it around him he will be ecstatic, even if he doesn't show it)

You had just come home from the grocery store, armfuls of stuff in your grip as you carry them to the kitchen. "Hey Michael, I'm home!" You figured he knew it was you anyway but you definitely wouldn't wanna be mistaken for an intruder.

Michael eventually wanders into the kitchen to see what you brought home (hes secretly hoping you brought candy, he has a hell of a sweet tooth). When he sees the bouquet of flowers, he picks them up and tugs at your sleeve. Holding them up with his head tilted as if to say, "What's with these?"

"Oh! Those are for you, Mikey." You smile up at him. He stands there for a moment, seemingly thinking before nodding and walking away, flowers in hand.

A few weeks later Michael walks up to you with a colourful mask, putting it in your lap and staring at you. You pick it up and inspect the details, realizing he had dried the flowers you gave him and used them as part of the mask.

You smile and stand, giving him a tight hug which he awkwardly reciprocates, then put on your mask. "Its beautiful, Michael, thank you."

Jason Voorhees

When i tell you this man will just about sob from joy-

The fact that you love him and want to be around him is already more than he's ever hoped for but you bringing him flowers? Swoon

You will absolutely get a massive bear hug cuz i know for a fact this momma's boy is a hugger

You had decided to go for a little hike around the camp while Jason was off setting his traps. It was a beautiful day and you didn't wanna waste it indoors.

While on this hike you collected the wildflowers and wild blueberries along the trail, as a little gift for Jason. By the time you got back to the cabin, you had a proper fistful of flowers and maybe a pint of the blueberries, lucky you! You got to the sweet berries before the deer did.

When Jason finally got back you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek of his hockey mask and the little bouqet. "I picked you some flowers, handsome!" Jason takes them gingerly and grabs a mug, filling it with water to use as a vase.

Once he sets the flowers in the mug he turns back to you and scoops you up in a firm but careful bear hug, muffled sniffles echoing from under his mask. "Thank you, love." He signs after gently setting you back down on your feet. You smile and take his hand, "I also picked some blueberries, wanna help me make some muffins?" He nods eagerly as you lead him to the kitchen.

Billy Lenz

Lets be real this gremlin of a man would try to eat them if you'd let him. (Dude 100% has an oral fixation and 0 sense of self control)

Will cling to you even more than usual. Mans is a cuddler through and through.

"Pretty Boy brought Billy a gift!!!"

Will also happy stim as he rambles about how sweet you are and probably brag about you to your cat (writing this as if yall aint in the sorority house) "Billy has the sweetest boyfriend ever!"

"Billy, I'm home!" You call as you walk in the door. You head up to your room to see billy laying on the bed with your cat, holding it above him and giggling loudly. "Havin fun cutie? I picked up some new sweaters for you, nice n' soft just how you like." He smiles up at you and places the cat down. "Pretty [y/n] always picks the best sweaters." He states as he sits up.

"I also got you something else."

"Surprise for Billy?"

"Yes, surprise for Billy." You pull the flowers from behind your back, earning a delighted squeal and some happy wiggles from your boyfriend. He quickly snatched them from your hand and shoved his face into the vibrant blossoms, only to sneeze immediately.

(I AM A BILLY LENZ KITTEN SNEEZE TRUTHER YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE)

You laugh softly at his antics and give him a kiss on the forehead. "Why dont I put these in a vase, then we can cuddle n watch some cartoons?"

"Yes please!!!" Billy grins, picking up the cat and following you back downstairs.

Thomas Hewitt

Will probably also cry tbh, another momma's boy who thrives off of affection

You'll probably need to tell Hoyt off though cuz he's gonna dog on Tommy for bein a pansy or some shit

But really this man is so whipped for you he's going to cherish anything you give him.

He's sentimental for sure so i see him asking Luda to press any flowers you give him to keep forever

You were just finishing up setting the beartraps around the Hewitt property when you noticed some wildflowers in the treeline.

After setting the last trap you headed over to the patch of flowers, picking a handful and binding them with some twine from your pocket. Satisfied with your little bouqet, you made your way back to the house.

"Tommy's upstairs in y'all's room, honey." Luda called from the kitchen as you walked in. "Alright Luda, I'll be back in a bit to help with supper." With that you scampered upstairs and into your room.

"Tommy baby? Ya in here?" You hear a grunt and smile, walking up to the large man and hugging him. "Brought you a lil gift, love."

You hand Thomas the flowers, which he takes and inspects curiously before setting them down and kissing your forehead, mumbling a raspy, slightly choked 'thank you.'

Brahms Heelshire

This dude just gets so flustered.

He spent 2 decades in the fucking walls a kind gesture would absolutely kill him

Will be even clingier the rest of the day. Don't bother trying to do anything he will have a death grip on your waist to cuddle you.

Brahms is definitely still very childish when it comes to passtimes, may ask you to put the flowers in his hair or something (lowkey an excuse to have you play with his hair.) [Please play with his hair he will melt]

Whilst taking care of the rat traps you decided to pick some of the clover blossoms growing next to the foundation of the mansion. You dont really leave the house, so small activities like this gave you some variety in your day.

As soon as you had finished up outside it had started to rain. You curse quietly to yourself and dash inside.

"Brahmsy! Im done outside, what should we do for lunch?" You call as you take off your shoes; You didn't want to track mud in the house after all.

"Could we have that pasta with the chicken and herbs? I quite like that." The masked man replies, seemingly appearing from thin air. "What are the flowers for, sweetest?"

"Oh! Theyre for you, Brahms. I thought they were pretty." You smile at him and hand him the flowers.

"F-For me?" You can see his left ear turn a bit pink, and you giggle.

"Of course darling, I wanted to do something to make you smile."

Brahms scoops you up and squeezes you tight. "Thank you, dove. That's so kind of you."

#billy lenz #michael myers #thomas hewitt #brahms heelshire #jason vorhees #slasher lover #slasher x male reader #slasher x reader #slashers x male reader #brahms heelsire x reader #billy lenz x male reader #michael myers x reader #jason vorhees x reader #thomas hewitt x reader

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

You Never Know

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

Genre: very fluffy

Summary: Spencer wants to ask you on a date

***

You check your watch as you walk over to your desk. You thought you were gonna be late but it looks like you made it in earlier than you expected. You've barely settled into your chair when Derek pops his head around his computer monitor.

"Did you go?" He asks. You roll your eyes and reach into your bag for the paper bag half rolled up inside. You drop the paper bag on his desk across from yours.

"Yessss! You're the best mamas." Derek says pulling open the bag.

"What's that?" Spencer asks leaning over from his desk, trying to peak into Derek's mysterious sack.

"Dude there's this bakery in y/n's neighborhood that has the best pastries of all time but you have to go first thing in the morning or like as close to it as you can because first of all once they're out of something they're just out of it for the day and secondly these things are better the closer to fresh out the oven that you can get." Derek explains.

"So you send y/n to buy your pastries before work?" Spencer frowns.

"Well-"

"He doesn't send me anywhere. Sometimes I'm just nice enough to pick things up if I have time." You say.

"Correct." Derek points at you.

"Interesting." Spencer nods.

"What's your stance on donuts Spence? Do you even eat them?" You ask.

"I love donuts actually." He tells you.

"Yeah I guess that makes sense, you have quite the sweet tooth." You hum.

"I didn't realize that was obvious."

"Well, it is to me. I can't say if anyone else here would say the same but I noticed." You say.

"Oh." You barely catch his eyebrows scrunch together before he hides behind his monitor to avoid you noticing the heat he can feel rushing to his cheeks. He's probably reading into it too much that you noticed something like that. You take a sip from your coffee and turn your attention to your own computer. It's a paperwork day today it seems, as you all spend the day at your desks. On one hand, you honestly hate having to spend all day working on reports but on the other hand, no news is good news- theoretically not having a case should mean there are no new serial killers but you all know crime doesn't sleep- so there's a quiet understanding that you're just waiting for the next storm.

Still, it's been a busy few weeks so it's nice to not be jetting off to another state where you'd be arguing with local law enforcement while trying to solve a crime before it snowballs. By the time you're leaving work, you're almost caught up on the pile you'd been too busy to get to and that's sort of nice to know as you pull out of the parking lot.

~

You normally don't stop at your local bakery two days in a row but you figure you should buy something for Spencer after the conversation you had yesterday. So, you get up early enough to run by the bakery before heading in today.

"Y/n! Good morning! Same thing as always?" The bakery owner, Salma smiles at you when you walk in.

"Actually not today Salma, I'm buying for someone else this time." You smile. You maybe should've asked what donuts Spencer likes, but you like to think you know enough about his tastes to guess.

"Someone else? Not your work friend?"

"Not the one you know. A different work friend this time." You explain.

"Do you like this work friend too?"

"Salma I don't like Derek." You scoff. "Not the way you're implying anyway. He's just a friend."

"And this new work friend?"

"I don't know Salma I'm just picking up donuts." You say with a smile that you hope doesn't give you away. The look Salma gives you is enough to let you know she sees right through you.

"Alright, what can I get you this time then dear?"

"I'll take those two. I think he'll like those." You say pointing to the donuts you want through the display case.

"This one is a new recipe you know."

"Is it? I'll take one for myself as well then, and next time I'm in I'll let you know what I think." You smile.

"You have to come in soon then, you know how I value your opinion on new releases!" She says as she bags the pastries for you. 

"Of course Salma. I'll be back within a couple of days most likely, my work friend will get quite huffy if I'm not." You say handing her a ten and taking the donuts from her.

"And you are sure you don't want to take him anything since you are here?"

"Ah he got his sweets yesterday. He can wait until my next visit. Have a good day Salma." You say leaving the bakery. When you get to work Spencer, Derek, and JJ are already at their desks. You can see Hotch in his office as well as you drop your things at your desk.

"Is that what I think it is? Two days in a row y/n you spoil me." Derek spots the distinctly colored bag from the little bakery before you've even said good morning.

"First of all, good morning. Secondly, these are not for you Morgan."

"Not for me?!" He gasps and you roll your eyes.

"Spence, I brought you breakfast." You say dropping the bag on his desk.

"Really? What'd you bring me?" Spencer blinks.

"Donuts from the bakery near my place."

"Oh, the one Morgan really likes?"

"Yeah! Since we were talking about it yesterday I thought I'd pick something up for you." You say.

"And she's left me to starve in the process." Derek proclaims dramatically.

"Oh cut the theatrics. You got donuts yesterday, you weren't even expecting them." You scoff and Spencer chuckles.

"Well thank you for the donuts y/n." Spencer smiles.

"If you like them I'll bring you some more often."

"You're supposed to bring donuts for me though." Derek huffs.

"And today I brought them for Spencer. You get donuts all the time you'll be fine." You roll your eyes.

"This is favoritism." Derek says.

"No more than me bringing you donuts literally every couple of days." You scoff.

"Are you trying to replace me?"

"Replace you!? Morgan- you do realize it's just a donut, right?"

"It's the principle of the thing!"

"Okay, what if I just- don't ask for her to bring me donuts again?" Spencer asks.

"Don't be ridiculous Spence if you want donuts all you have to do is ask." You say.

"I just feel like-"

"Oh, hush. You're so dramatic. Salma says hello though." You cut Derek off.

"Now you're being mean." He gasps.

"Who is Salma?" Spencer asks.

"She owns the bakery." Derek says.

"She knows you?" Spencer turns to Derek.

"She knows I have a work friend that I buy donuts for. So when I came in this morning and ordered something different I had to explain that they weren't for that work friend."

"Salt. In the wound." Derek says.

"Will you relax if I give you half of my donut? It's a new one so Salma wants feedback anyway."

"It's not the same."

"There is just no pleasing you Derek Morgan." You shake your head.

"It's actually very easy, bring me donuts."

"This conversation has gone on too long I'm going to the kitchen." You say standing up and leaving the bullpen. In the kitchen, you pour yourself water from the Brita pitcher.

"Does Morgan really take this donut thing that seriously?" Spencer's voice startles you as you sip your water and you barely avoid choking on it.

"Jesus you move like a cat. No, but he does take getting on my nerves that seriously." You say.

"Oh- well I just wanted to thank you again, for bringing me donuts."

"You said you like donuts."

"I do! But- since I didn't get around to asking for some, it was a pleasant surprise."

"Well that's what I was going for so mission success." You smile. Spencer returns it with a bright one of his own.

"Actually, can I ask you something?"

"Of course hon. Anything."

"Well I was-"

"Good morning Spencer! Y/n!" Penelope greets happily as she enters the kitchen.

"Hey Pen." You smile at her and turn your attention back to Spencer.

"Good morning Garcia." Spencer nods.

"Oh! Y/n! You know that- task you brought to me last week?" She asks.

"Yes?"

"I got a hit."

"Seriously?"

"Have I ever let you down?" She winks.

"Oh you are truly the best there is! I'll be by your office in a little bit okay?" You tell her.

"Alrighty!" She says going, most likely to her office.

"You were saying?" You prompt Spencer.

"Is that important? Because my thing can totally wait- actually I don't think now's a good time to ask anyway." Spencer shakes his head.

"You're sure? Because the thing with Penelope isn't even work related. It is by no means time sensitive if you need to talk about something." You tell him.

"I'm sure, this can wait, it should wait. Now is a bad time I realize." He says. Your face scrunches a bit in confusion as you regard Spencer for a moment.

"As long as you're sure." You say hesitantly.

"One hundred percent. Go." He nods.

"Alright, but whatever it is, don't put it off too long, okay?"

"Promise." Spencer gives you a small smile and you turn to go to Penelope's office, wondering what could be on his mind. It doesn't come up for the rest of the day. You do your work, he does his, and though you speak throughout the day he at no point brings up the million dollar question he wanted to ask you this morning, and honestly by the time you're going home you've kind of forgotten about it. It's not until you're back at your place that it comes to mind again and that's only when Spencer calls you pretty much as soon as you step through your front door.

"You have insane timing, you know you called me just as I stepped into my apartment?"

"It usually takes you approximately 23 minutes to get home from work so I took a guess at when you'd be off the road based on when you left. Didn't think I'd be that on the nose though." Spencer says.

"Well- I hope everything's alright, seeing as you're calling me and we just left work at the same place. To what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask.

"The question I wanted to ask you this morning. I promised you I wouldn't put it off too long. I actually figured it would be easier for me to ask you this over the phone so I called." Spencer says.

"Oh yes. What ya got for me, sweetness?"

"I know that we're- coworkers and this might make things weird or whatever but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date with me? You of course don't have to say yes and if you don't I promise not to make things awkward at the office - we can just pretend this never happened but I- couldn't just not at least ask."

"A date?" You blink. Spencer wants to go on a date with you.

"Yes. Only if you want to, no pressure. I really don't want you to feel pressured or anything. It doesn't have to be a thing if it doesn't-" 

"Spencer!" You cut him off.

"Yes?"

"If you're going to ask me on a date you have to give me a chance to answer beloved." You smile.

"Oh- right. Sorry."

"I would love to go on a date with you."

"Seriously?"

"Of course." You say. Spencer lets out a relieved sigh that makes you want to giggle.

"Cool." He breathes. "I have to plan. I'll call you once I've sorted everything out. Is that okay?"

"Works for me." You nod even though he can't see you.

"Okay. It'll probably take me a while though so- in case it's too late to call you again tonight, good night."

"Spencer."

"Yes?"

"Don't obsess over making it perfect. I'll enjoy whatever we do as long as we're together. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He says softly.

You hang up before you end up dragging out the conversation and also so you can let out a ridiculous squeal that you would never let Spencer hear. You're... giddy. Like a teenager all over again. And you have to force yourself to go about your evening routines as opposed to just waiting for Spencer to call you all night.

***

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ sweet tooth ｡o♡⋆˚｡⋆.

pairing: kim leehan x reader

summary: leehan teases you while you eat sweets＾＾

tags: 「SFW! fluff! uh... that's it | referring to members by real names e.g. donghyun, sanghyuk (it felt right) | kissing and cuddling from ur sweet crush leehan | reader has no gender! leehan loves everyone~」

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is my first story on tumblr but im not new to writing stories online! (cough cough my abandoned wattpad cough cough) i decided to write this bc... i cant stop thinking abt leehan hjsjdkhw he's so dreamy... anyways,,, (also my first time writing in 3rd pov so... pls be kind><) i hope you enjoy!

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal to no revisions

"can i have a stick?"

there's no way he would actually play this game with you, right? he has his own food sat on the arm rest of the end of your couch. you sit on the opposite end, facing towards him with a pocky stick half eaten in your hand.

"look at how many snacks you have, no way, these are mine!" you say as you finish the stick.

he took your comment harshly, as he started to flash his puppy dog eyes at you accompanied with a pouty frown.

what kim donghyun didnt realize was moments like these are one of the many things you liked most about him. the way his face is perfect in every emotion. how you melt everytime he smiles and shuts his eyes from laughing. the way he constantly pushes up his big glasses because he's really overdue for an eye checkup. how his hair is always the perfect length and the way it bounces, even when he takes the smallest steps... and his perfect puffy lips that pout out when he doesn't get his way.

"can i just have one, please!"

you thought he could never annoy you, but you're reaching your limit. you stare at him and chomp down another stick in seconds.

"mmmh! this chocolate tastes so good."

you closed your eyes in delight, showing donghyun he's really missing out on the snack.

your eyes widened at his sudden movement. he uses his pointer and thumb to lift your chin up, "and what would you do if i took a stick from your mouth?"

you can feel a light wave of pink start to appear on your face. you look away from his gaze, anything to not look embarrassing in front of your crush.

"there's no way you would do that," you can feel the box of pocky shake in your hand as donghyun grabs a piece from the bag.

"how about from my mouth instead?" he says as he lets go of your chin and places the stick in his mouth. he gives a slight smirk as he wiggles the stick slightly in between his teeth, waiting for you to respond.

was he flirting with you? this whole scenario seemed like a dream, how could he be teasing you so much at this time? did he get intel from your other friends? sanghyuk and jaehyun do tend to be chatty so it wouldn't be a surprise if they accidentally slipped your secret to donghyun.

he stopped your spiraling thoughts when he inched closer to you on your end of the couch. you were touching knees at this point. he got so close that the chocolate end of the stick was right in front of your lips. moving back any further would result in you folding your legs up to your chest, pressed against the arm of the couch in an uncomfortable position.

your body moved before your mind did. you quickly took a small bite of the stick in order to create more distance between you and him. the stick split perfectly down the middle. you never craved and hated chocolate so much in your life before.

you finally locked eyes with him again, only to find him eating the rest of the stick, smiling at the way he could easily make you flustered. the boys definitely told him something, there's no way.

he reached into your box again to grab another stick, this time he pointed the uncoated side of the stick to your mouth.

"ahhh," he said, wanting you to open your mouth, "my turn!"

you gave in once again, holding the stick lightly between your teeth, making it easy to move around. donghyun moved in close to the chocolate end, about to take a bite, but you had other plans. you quickly moved the stick to the side, making him open his eyes wide, shocked at your playfulness. he moved fast to try and catch the stick, but he wasn't faster than the movement from your mouth. it started to get more and more funny seeing him try to catch the stick. you both started to giggle and smile at the fun game at hand. the fun ended though when he finally caught the stick, and he was even closer to your face than expected.

there was about 3 inches of space between you two left, and the distance made you freeze. you can feel yourself burning up again. what were his intentions with you? was he teasing you because he was bored? or did he actually receive some knowledge about you liking him and this is him reciprocating?

your mind went blank when you saw him continue. he inched closer and closer to you, nibbling the stick until he was right in your face. you couldn't take it anymore. there had to have been at most a centimeter left of the stick, because you leaned in to catch the end of the stick and you felt your lips crashing harshly into his. you gave him a small, but impactful peck, and moved away quickly to see his reaction. he cupped his hand over his mouth, way to make the first kiss one you'd never forget.

"so youre the one who got to steal the first kiss, huh? you didn't have to give me a bruise though.."

"you wanted to kiss me first?"

"wasn't it obvious?"

you rubbed your thumb on his bottom lip signaling that you were sorry. you looked into his eyes again, both of your minds seemingly thinking the same things.

he placed his hand on your cheek to move your face back to his, meeting his lips once again. this time it was more passionate and slow. you both took your time feeling each crevice of each other's mouth. it started to get a little sloppy, you both couldn't believe this was actually happening, so the kiss turned into a rush of passion being exchanged. it was almost like this was the last kiss you both were going to experience, so you had to make it count. you finally got to feel his soft lips on yours, playing with his tongue as he moved your body closer to his. he started to let out little vocal breaths along with the existing panting from the both of you. hearing how much he was enjoying himself drove you to insanity. was he really as shy and aloof as you thought he always was? or does he know exactly what he wants and he's very good at hiding this side of himself from you?

you were the first one to pull away, a small line of saliva connected your lips, and you quickly pecked him to become disconnected. you stared at him in disbelief, trying to regain a normal heartbeat but light pants still filled the air.

"come here," donghyun propped one of his arms on the top of the couch, motioning for you to move next to him so you two could cuddle.

"did we really just kiss each other again?" you wanted to hear more affirmations from his mouth instead of the fantasy in your mind.

"yes darling, we just kissed."

darling? that pet name made your heartbeat rise up again, causing you to bury your face into his chest.

he started to hum quietly and pet your head softly, you dont know how much of this you can take. it felt like at any moment you were going to melt into a puddle. you started to calm down after a while, moving your arms around him, to hold him tight and never let go of this moment.

you heard a strange ruffled noise coming from the side of you, his arm around you acting like a shield to prevent you from looking. you heard tiny chomps of a familiar stick coming from his mouth. you collected yourself and looked up at his face, only to see a half eaten pocky stick in his mouth. once he locked eyes with you, he quickly ate the stick whole to try and hide the evidence.

you smiled and started to tease him again, "i told you those are my snacks!"

you tried to grab the box from him, but he was familiar with the game you showed him not too long ago. he moved very fast, and catching the box from his hands felt impossible. you both started to giggle again, wishing this perfect moment could last forever.

© nmn-yty ★

#boynextdoor #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor x reader #bnd fluff #bnd x reader #bnd imagines #kim leehan #kim leehan fluff #kim leehan x reader #kim leehan imagines #kim donghyun #kim donghyun fluff #kim donghyun x reader #kim donghyun imagines #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #i love leehan so mucj

[auteurdelabre]

A LITTLE SUN PART 7 (part II) Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+

tags: SMUT. Penetration, Oral (m and f receiving), use of 'daddy' (but you ain't into it), use of 'baby', Dieter being Dieter, fluff, like such tooth-rotting sweetness its almost gross, idiots in love, pregnancy, talk of pregnancy body changes/self esteem, love love love, family issues, mentions of parental death.

a/n: Tumblr is dumb and won't let me post the entire chapter in one post. ARGH. So below is part two.

HERE IS PART ONE OF THIS CHAPTER.

series masterlist

Your mother is pacing around the kitchen when the doorbell rings. With a muttered grumble she strides to the front door, tugging it open with a flourish. She expects to see her pregnant daughter there, what she doesn’t expect is a six foot movie star she hates to be flinching at her.

He’s wearing a short sleeved linen shirt, freshly pressed slacks and his usually unruly hair has been combed neatly.  He even got Magda to trim his beard for him. He wants to make a good impression.

"Hi," Dieter says, his stomach churning anxiously as your mother stares him down. "I'm Dieter-"

"I know exactly who you are," the woman snaps, arms crossing over her front. "What do you want? I’m afraid I don't have any more daughters for you to buy babies from."

She tries to look around his broad shoulders. "Where is my daughter by the way?"

Dieter shuffles back and forth, his expensive dress shoes scraping the ground. Suddenly all his bravado has left him and he feels much like a chastised child. 

"I wanted to talk to you," Dieter explains. "Just you and me if that’s okay?"

Your mother's brows knit angrily. "So she couldn't even be bothered-"

"She doesn't know I'm here," Dieter interjects.

He goes to say something more when he thinks he notices a car slowing down up the block. Paparazzi. Your mother notices as well because she ushers Dieter into the house, closing the door behind him sharply. 

"You have five minutes." 

Dieter slips off his shoes and follows her to the couch, about to launch into his speech when he sniffs the air.

"Are you baking?"

"Cinnamon bread. My daughters favorite," your mother says, eyes misting. She regards Dieter a moment, softening. "Would you like a piece?" 

"I'd love one." 

He takes a seat on the couch as ordered, watching as your mother brings out a tray holding several slices of cinnamon bread, a tea pot and two mugs.

“This is so fuc- darn delicious,” Dieter corrects himself, wiping the crumbs from his fingers on his pants, much to your mother’s dismay. “I love it.”

Your mother offers a small grunt by way of reply, watching him eat and taking small sips of her tea. Dieter notices you both hold your cups the same way, forefinger and pinky slightly out. It makes him long for you, wishing you were here with him as he attempts this conversation.

But you can’t be, he knows you’re too stubborn for it. Judging by how your mother is looking at him now, it’s a familial trait.

“I wanted to come over and try to explain things.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” your mother snaps, her teacup placed on the coffee table. “You and my daughter made a baby, she’s selling it to you and she never told me.”

"I'm sorry it was a secret for so long,” Dieter says. “It's just because of my notoriety that we had to keep it under wraps.”

“From the world, I understand, but from her own mother?” She shakes her head. “Do you know how hurtful that is? To find out your only child is pregnant because of the tabloids? To think you’re going to be a grandmother and then find out she’s selling the baby off?”

“She signed an NDA," Dieter explains with a wince, knowing how awful it sounds. "I'm so sorry. She hated to do it. It was my fault."

"And your mother?" Your mom huffs. "I bet she knew she was going to be a grandma before the tabloids di-"

She breaks off, irritated when she sees the hollow look in Dieters eyes.

"My uh, my mom isn't alive," Dieter says, fingers tapping anxiously at his side. "She died when I was in my twenties."

"Your father?"

Dieter shakes his head, wincing. Your fierce mother immediately softens her tone, her shoulders lowering.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry to me about anything,” Dieter says in a soft rasp. “I’m the one who you should be mad at. Not your daughter.”

Your mother wraps her arms around herself. "How is she?"

"Hurt. She misses you."

"Must not miss me much. She's made no attempt to call."

"She's worried about what you'll say. Your opinion matters so much to her, you know that. Especially with her dad gone."

Your mother swallows. "They were so similar. So stubborn and..."

Suddenly the dam behind the woman's eyes breaks and Dieter watches her face crumple. 

"I just wish he was here," she says, shoulders shaking. Dieter feels his own eyes filling with tears, his heart aching in tandem. He can't help but reach out and cover her hand with his. 

"I’m so sorry."

"If he was here he would know exactly what to say," your mother continues, allowing his hand to remain over hers. "Michael could always get through to her when I couldn't."

“My mom knew me in a way my dad never did,” Dieter offers after a moment. “Knew exactly the right thing to say at the right time. It’s hard not having that. But you still have time with your daughter. Time that’s wasting with you two being mad at each other.”

Your mother blinks up at Dieter, a slow understanding reflected in her swimming eyes. As if she’s seeing him properly for the first time. He continues on, encouraged that it’s been over five minutes and she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“And I know you think this whole thing with the baby is a spontaneous decision and that I’m massively immature and yeah, I can be. But you need to know that when your daughter told me she was pregnant it was the best day of my life," Dieter says, his voice thick with emotion.

He takes a moment, swallowing and blinking furiously. His hand tightens around your mothers’.  

“But I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve changed. She’s changed me, my son has changed me. I’m not perfect, but I also don’t think there’s anyone in the world that will love your da—grandson more than me.”

Your mother blinks rapidly, her weathered face softening further. “My grandson?”

“If you want him to be,” Dieter explains, suddenly unsure. “If your daughter is okay with it. I don’t have any parents in my life. It would be nice for him to have a grandmother.”

Any lingering distaste your mother may have held for Dieter is wiped away in that moment. The sincerity in his wide dark eyes and the nervous way he twists the rings on his fingers endears her further.

“And I know you’re upset with her about all of this but I promise I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life,” Dieter finishes, his eyes glassy. “Even if she’s in Sacramento doing school. Even if she never wants to see me or our son. I want to make her happy and that means taking care of you too. The house is paid for; your daughter will be taken care of.”

Your mother’s hands move from under Dieter’s to over, clasping his wide hands tightly. She has a gentle smile on her face now, the anger gone from her voice.

“I thank you Dieter. That is a kindness that touches my heart. Knowing I can remain in the same house I raised my family in means more to me than you realize. But it wasn’t your place to do it.”

“I know.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“Please,” Dieter begs with his big brown eyes so round and sorrowful your mother has to blink back a new onslaught of tears. “She’s giving me the world. The rest of your mortgage is nothing in comparison to that.”

Your mother can’t help but laugh out loud at the earnestness in his expression. He grins crookedly as she laughs, wiping tears from her lash line. He waits until she sobers, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

“Alright, I accept it. But only if you’ll let me cook you dinner every once in a while.”

“And cinnamon bread?”

“And cinnamon bread,” your mother says laughing again.  “As for taking care of my daughter? That is something you’ll have to take up with her. But be warned she’s even more stubborn than me.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dieter grins shyly, causing the two of them to chuckle between themselves softly.

“I’ll call her,” your mother says resolutely. “I need to apologize and tell her she can move back home if she wants.”

Dieter immediately stiffens. He hadn’t thought about this part.

"Actually if its okay I want her to stay with me until the baby is born," Dieter explains, curls falling into his eyes, his mannerisms anxious. "I like having my son nearby."

"And perhaps having my daughter nearby too?" Your mother peers into his face with a small curl of her lips.  “You care for her. More than a boss for an employee. Or a father for a surrogate.”

Dieter looks overcome for the moment, his dark eyes on the floor. He doesn’t know how to respond.

“That’s between you two,” your mother acknowledges. “It’s not my place to say anything.”

Before Dieter can say anything in reply he hears the sound of a frantic key turning in the lock and the front door is thrust open. 

The two of them whip their heads in the direction of the front door to see you stumbling into the house, slamming the door behind you. Your hair is wild, your face flushed and you look extremely pissed off. You look at the two of them on the couch and your brows knit.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

"How did-"

"Magda," you answer before Dieter can finish the question. "Why the fuck are you here at my house with my mom?"

You watch as your mom rises from the couch next to Dieter. Her eyes are wet and when she gazes at your very full stomach she gives a soft little gasp. 

"Honey-"

"Don't honey me," you snap, feeling angry tears welling in your eyes as you glare over at Dieter. "Let's go, Dieter."

"Baby, wait-" Dieter starts, pausing only when you whip back around to fix him with a leveling glare.

He looks so sorrowful standing there between you and your equally broken-looking mother that you find yourself relenting. You have an idea on why he’s here and even if it wasn’t his place you can’t deny that it was kind of him to try.

"Go wait in the kitchen, please."

Dieter opens his mouth to suggest something else but the glint to your eyes has him slamming it shut and nodding. You wait until he's shuffled into the next room before looking back at your mother. 

"Baby?" Your mom ventures gently. 

"He calls everyone that," you lie. 

She nods slowly but you know she doesn't believe you. Your mother also knows you well enough that she doesn’t attempt to sway you.

"Here, come take a seat," she offers motioning to the couch. "Your ankles must be swollen."

You lift a surprised brow but you waddle over to her, settling into the seat with an exhale. You look at Dieter’s leftover cinnamon bread crumbs and frown. How long was he here for? You look back to your mother, shocked at her gentle countenance. You’d expected anger or frustration, instead you see only regret.

"How did you know about the ankles?"

"I was the same when I was pregnant with you," she says coming to sit on the other end of the couch. "I carried high like you as well."

"Really?" You absently drape your fingers over the curve of your stomach.

"Oh yes," your mother smiles, eyeing your bump.

As you sit there discussing this with shy smiles you wish that this pregnancy was normal. That you had a husband and excited family that threw you a baby shower for a child you'd be able to bring home and care for at the end of it all. 

You wish your mom felt comfortable to place her hands on your stomach and to care for this little boy you carry. But she’s holding back her emotions, not wanting to get attached.

After several moments your mom shuffles closer to you on the couch, her hand coming to cup not your stomach, but your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” your mom says, and you’re shocked at the tears pooling in her eyes. “I never wanted… I just… I acted shamefully.”

“I don’t understand why,” you explain, chin wobbling. “We’ve always had a great relationship. Or I thought we did.”

“I thought we did too,” your Mom acknowledges. “But considering you kept this a secret I think I might have done something wrong along the way. You never should have been afraid to come to me with this.”

You don’t know how to answer that.

“You won’t understand until you’re a -” you mom catches herself. “A parent provides for their children, not the other way around. I felt ashamed that you felt you needed to take care of me.”

For a moment you look at her not as your mother, but as a woman. A tired woman who sacrificed so much to see you taken care of and your heart cracks. 

“I like taking care of you Mom,” you explain, swallowing the tears there. “I love you. You’re all I have left. Fighting with you these past few weeks has been awful.”

“I know honey,” your mom says and now she pulls you into her arms, rocking you as if you were still that child who ran to her with a scraped knee or boy troubles. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

“Of course I do,” you say, burying your face in her shoulder as you let the tears flow. For the first time since your father died the two of you cry together, arms wrapped around one another, your son nestled between the two of you. Finally sniffling you pull back, wiping at your eyes.

“Were you mean to Dieter?”

“Tried to be,” your mother replies with a grin. “Impossible to be though. He’s very sweet.”

“He’s been amazing through this whole thing,” you answer honestly, feeling the need to sing his praises to the woman who usually derides him. “He’s been the most supportive, caring version of himself I’ve ever seen. Sober, sweet and I love being around him.”

Your mother’s eyes search yours intensely, so much that you blink wondering what she’s looking for.  Her gaze breaks when a shy Dieter knocks on the wall separating the two rooms.

“Uh, is it okay if I come in?”

Your mother laughs. “We’ll come to you. My daughter needs some cinnamon bread.”

The two of you stand, your mom helping you before letting her hand fall briefly to your swollen belly. You watch her face beaming as she does before her eyes go to yours.

“My baby having a baby,” she murmurs.

The two of you enter into the kitchen hand in hand. Dieter is standing by the sink, his hair even more wild than usual. He was obviously running his hands through it anxiously.

Dieter approaches you both slowly, as if he’s concerned one of you will be furious. When he sees the easy smile in both of your faces and your clasped hands he feels the tightness in his chest release.

“Thank you, Dieter,” you tell him gently as he approaches. He doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He just nods his head, smiling and coming to stand next to you. Your mother releases your hand, coming to stand in front of you both.

“Now you can retire,” Dieter offers with a hopeful look in your mother’s direction.

“No,” your mom says shortly, drawing both sets of eyes her way. You feel yourself deflate, closing your eyes for a steadying moment. You can’t stand the cruelty she’s still holding in her heart for Dieter after everything.

“Mom-“

“No, I like my job,” your mother tells Dieter, ignoring you. She comes to stand in front of him, having to look up due to her short stature. “I enjoy it. So I won’t retire. But I will work less and try to enjoy more of my life.”

You both break into easy grins.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your mother’s smile dims a fraction as she gazes between the two of you.

“Dieter has offered me a chance to be the baby’s grandmother,” your mother says quietly. “But that will be your decision my love. I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”

You swallow. “Do you want to be his grandmother? Even if I’m not in the picture? Even if we have no legal right?”

“I would,” your mother replies without hesitation. You turn your head to face the taller man to your left.

“And you’re really okay with it, Dieter?”

“More than okay.”

Dieter’s eyes are on the ground, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. He wishes his own mother was here, wishes she could have met you. He knows that she would have loved you.

“Then I’m okay with it,” you murmur.

He’s so grateful that his baby will have a grandmother. Even if you want nothing to do with him he’ll forever have this tie to you.

Your mother glances over at Dieter before stepping towards him. 

"Let me see your face," your mother demands cupping Dieter's stubbled cheeks in her hands and forcing his eyes to hers. A few quiet minutes pass, their eyes in silent communion before you see both sets watering.

You watch in shock as your mother leans forward and in an act so naturally maternal kisses Dieter's forehead gently.

"You're a good man," she tells him gently. "A good man who acts silly sometimes."

When tears slip down Dieter’s cheeks you feel your jaw drop.  Your mother pulls him into a tight hug, rocking him as they stand, murmuring something into his wild hair. You breathe unsteadily when his own arms go to wrap around her waist, clinging to her. He looks like a lost boy finding harbor in the embrace of his mother, his shoulders shaking gently as she soothes him in her arms.

She looks over at you, smiling gently. She tugs you over into her arms as well and before long the three of you are embracing standing in the middle of your mom's messy kitchen.

"Will you two stay for dinner?" Your mother asks eyes hopeful when the three of you break apart, all sets of eyes glassy.  

"That would be so great," Dieter says excitedly before you can answer, rubbing at his wet eyes. He wants to take advantage of being in your home. He wants to see where you grew up, where you exist when you're not with him. 

"You're Chilean right?"

"Part, yeah."

"Right, I'm going to pop out to the market," your mom says with a wide grin as she picks up her car keys. "I'll be back in a flash."

Your mother is gone excitedly out the door before you can even process what’s happening. That you’re having dinner with your boss and your mom and your unborn child. It’s all a bit much. And yet the thought warms you.

“So do I get a tour?”

“Sure,” you say grinning. Without thought you take his hand, guiding him through the hall pointing out the rooms, giving small synopsis like “this is where I was standing when my first boyfriend called and broke up with me” and “this is where I fell in the tub and cracked my tooth”

“And you know my bedroom,” you tell him with a smirk. “Very acquainted with the closet, I believe.”

He grins before taking his time looking around your room. Last time he’d been in a rush, but today he looks at everything. He sees the framed photo of you on horseback, the science ribbons for first and second place. He notices a trophy for high school tennis. He grins at the poster of Cillian Murphy behind your door. He sees the Polaroid’s of you and your friends stuck to your mirror.

“You never mention your friends,” Dieter observes pointing at the photo. “How come?”

“I never see them,” you shrug coming over to peer at them. “They all got married, had kids. I was in school and then I was working and we kind of just lost touch.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Honestly? Sometimes. But school and my career just always seemed more important.”

“You don’t think you could have both? A career and a family?”

“Not really,” you shake your head. “Can’t have it all.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno,” you shrug again. “Something has to give.”

“Only if you have a shit partner,” Dieter offers.

Before you can say anything more he’s gone to your bookshelf, looking at the tomes that reside there and muttering their titles under his breath. You watch him just existing in this room, before your reason for rushing over here affronts you.

“Did you pay off my Mom’s mortgage?”

“Yeah,” Dieter replies after a beat, twisting to face you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You stare at Dieter as he says this, the passion in his voice overwhelming you. Since when was this his plan? You’re supposed to take the three hundred grand and go.

“Why do that? You knew I was going to do it.”

“I wanted that money to be for you,” Dieter explains. “Not taking care of the mortgage and everything else. I’d pay for your school too but something tells me you’d refuse that.”

“Correct.”

“Your mother was right, you are stubborn.”

This gets a shocked laugh out of you. “What else did you two talk about?”

“That’s between her and me,” he says with a supercilious look on his face. “I think she might like me better than you at this point.”

Affection swims through your limbs and it carries you to him. Without warning your hands go to his shoulders, mouth pressing gently to his. He accepts this eagerly, his wet tongue dabbing against yours gently.

"Thank you," you whisper against his full mouth. "But you don't have to take care of me."

"I like taking care of you," Dieter murmurs, his nose tracing yours. "You spent so long taking care of me and everyone else; let me take care of you now."

You nod; kissing him again and feeling him slowly back you towards your bed.

“Mia,” you remind him.

“Its fine,” he assures you, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m not going to sleep with you when you’re in a relationship, Dieter.”

“I’m not,” he promises you, “I swear.”

You want to press him for more information. But more than that, you just want Dieter. You need to be as close to him as possible. You need to feel his bare skin on yours, inhale the crook of his neck, taste his lips.

And when he gently urges you onto your back in your childhood bed you don't fight him. You allow him to bring down your shorts and panties and even though you can't see anything other than his hair over your belly you can't stop the gasp that escapes you when his mouth begins to work over your core.  

Moments later after you've come spectacularly for him, groaning out his name with your thighs quivering against his ears and your hands fisting through his hair, he crawls up next to you on the bed. 

He traces over your abdomen, his dark eyes ever widened in wonder as he feels his son underneath his palm. Sunlight filters in through your bedroom window, giving him a haloed effect as he gazes down at you, his mouth swollen and damp.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal life," you smile sleepily as you run a finger along his lower lip. "After being spoiled by Dieter Bravo school is sure going to pale in comparison." 

Dieter keeps the smile frozen on his face but inside his stomach drops.  Your schooling is going to start soon. He’s going to be separated from you. He feels his sons foot kick him and you both giggle. At least he’ll have this part of you.

He helps you into your panties and shorts before your mother returns shortly after. If she notices your flushed cheeks and Dieters extra mussed hair she doesn't comment on it. 

"I cheated," your mom says with a mischievous little smile that Dieter thinks looks identical to yours as she hands you both your plates when you come to sit at the dining table. "There's a wonderful Latin restaurant in town. They make the best palta." 

The food is just as good as she made it seem. Between the palta and the Estofado and variety of empanadas you’re quickly overwhelmed with taste. You take your time savoring it though, making a note to try more Chilean food in the future.

“So I guess I’ll move back tomorrow,” you say after a hot bite of your stew. “I only have the two suitcases.”

Nothing about moving back appeals to you, aside from seeing your mother on a regular basis. You know for a fact that being away from Dieter will hurt, but perhaps that’s for the best. You need to separate yourself from this silly fantasy.

"You can move back here at any time my love," your mom enthuses before casting a quick look at Dieter's downturned face. "But I think it would be best if you stayed at Dieter's. He has all that space and a pool and that chef-"

"But I don't like to think of you here all by yourself," you insist.

"Honey, don't worry about me. I lived with your father and then you for over thirty five years. I need a break."

You sputter a surprised laugh at this. This whole time you had been painting your mother as this sad tragic figure, when really she's a woman coming into her own just as much as you are. You swallow your mouthful, eyes darting to the man at your left.

"Is it okay if I stay at your place a little longer, Dieter?"

"Of course," Dieter enthuses through a mouthful of avocado. "I told you, stay as long as you like. And now your Mom can come visit whenever she likes."

You smile at this, holding in the urge to kiss him.

When Dieter rests his arm on the back of your chair during the rest of dinner you don't even register it happening. When his fingertips absently trace your upper arm as he listens to your mom talking about her job you don't notice. 

But your mom notices. She notices it all.

On the drive back home your mind is a muddle of things. But mostly your heart swells with the knowledge that Dieter, a man you always thought was chronically selfish did this for you at no gain for himself.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you tell him as you walk back into Dieter’s home a short while later. He’s quiet with a faraway look in his eyes.  

"I know. I just wanted to help."

The two of you are heading to the kitchen, about to put away the leftovers your mother insisted on sending home with you. Dieter takes them from your hands with a soft “I got it” before popping them in the fridge.

Dieter had always struck you as self-centered, the entire time you worked for him. From the flippant way he spoke to people in the industry he disliked, to the cavalier attitude towards other PA’s.

But right now all you can think of is the way he's continually showed up for you. The way he supports you in not only this pregnancy but your schooling, your family, your goals. You see a change in him, one that takes your breath away.

“Dieter?”

“Yeah?”

He sees your eyes and the way they go dark the longer you stare at him. The desire is so clear in your expression.  

He crosses the room and his mouth comes to yours, petal soft. He sighs, hands coming to either side of your neck, thumbs propped against your jaw. You lean into the kiss, your belly sandwiched between the two of you.

"Take me to bed, Dieter."

Dieter doesn't hesitate, his arm bands around your waist guiding you to the bedroom. 

He takes his time undressing you, kissing every part of your flesh he uncovers. He kisses the stretch marks on your belly, and he caresses the extra flesh that pads your body with a reverence that makes you teary.

Your stomach is getting too large for missionary so he sweetly urges you to roll onto your side, not doing anything until you’re comfortable. Only then does he makes sweet and gentle love to you, your head on his arm as he fills you slowly, watching the way your body responds to him.

He holds you delicately at first, not wanting to be too rough. But you’re eager, so fucking eager, and your hand goes to his hip, urging him to go harder, to go faster.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, your thigh over his, your body slowly being pumped into by him. You’re arching, whimpering his name as he holds you against him. Every stroke feels like adoration, every graze of his fingers against your clit feels like more than just desire.

“I need to hear you come, baby,” he murmurs, his nose running along your temple. You turn your face to him, kissing him gently as his thrusts deepen, his lips hot and needy.

“Wanna come for you,” you gasp, your body starting to clench around him tighter and tighter before your head is tilted back against his throat as you cry his name. Your body spasms as arousal coats his cock still buried within you.

“So good for me, so fucking good,” Dieter groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. Before long his eyes roll back and he’s emptying himself into you, hands gripping your chest and cunt, needing you as close as possible.

Slowly your breathing slows and you both grow drowsy. But before you fall asleep you roll until you’re facing him. He looks so beautiful staring back at you with sleepy eyes and his curls spread out on his pillow.

You kiss him gently, hand at his collar before pulling back.

"Dieter, I think you're gonna make an amazing father."

Something about the sincerity in your voice moves him to tears that he has to blink back. He draws you closer to him under the duvet, needing the warmth of your skin, the closeness of your body.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Every word."

Dieter is on a unicorn floaty, half dozing in the late morning sunshine when you ask him.

"Dieter, will you tell me about your mom?"

It comes out of nowhere one day in the pool. You're half stretched out on a purple pool noodle, your lower half submerged in the clear water as you kick lazily. Dieter turns his head when you ask him. 

"What about her?"

You shift on your pool noodle, getting comfortable. "What was she like?"

Dieter takes a moment to compose his thoughts. His lower lip tends to stick out when he does it. 

"Funny. Smart. Dramatic like me." Dieter grins. "She died when I was in my early twenties and sometimes I wanna be furious about all the time I didn't get to spend with her. But then I count myself lucky I had two decades." 

You don't say much to that. You don't know why but you crave more knowledge about Dieter that isn't surface level. You crave more from him, almost like you need to know him better than anyone. 

"She's the one who encouraged me to go into acting," Dieter continues. "She worked two jobs so she could pay for my acting classes."

"Really?" 

"Yeah. She was so excited when I got the scholarship to RADA," Dieter says dragging his hand through the water. 

"She sounds amazing."

"She would have loved you," Dieter says before he can stop himself. For some reason this comment causes your heart to flip. 

He looks momentarily lost in thought before turning his gaze to you. His eyes scan the freckles starting on your shoulders, the light that shines in your hair. He's dazzled for a moment before he remembers that he wanted to ask you something. 

 "What about you? What was your dad like?" 

A little smile breaks out over your features. You rarely talk about your father but right now all that comes to you are good memories. 

"Smart. Scary smart actually. Like, every time we played wheel of Fortune he'd guess it within like the first two letters," you laugh gently. "He was the first person I told about my Masters program. The first person I told about a lot of stuff. He was always my cheerleader." 

"Sounds like a great dad."

"He loved your movies," you say, kicking your feet in the water gently. "He made me sit through a Cliff Beasts marathon one year for his birthday."

Dieter almost falls off his floaty in shock. 

"No shit. Really?"

"Yeah," you give a giggle before turning a bit reserved. "He and your mom would have gotten along, I think.”

"Bet they would have been the most amazing grandparents," Dieter says in a faraway voice.

"Definitely."

Dieter shifts in the unicorn, causing it to squeak. His sunglasses are slid back up his nose and he grows somber. 

"You must be excited about starting school again," Dieter says tightly hoping the disapproval in his voice isn't obvious.

He looks over at you when you don't reply right away. You look conflicted, almost guilty as you glide a hand through the water in front of you. 

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm continuing on with school and everything because that's what I was doing when my dad died," you offer solemnly. 

"Are you?"

"Not sure. When he died I thought it was such a natural next step to use my biology background and go into research." A niggle of doubt is there at the back of your head. "But I'm not sure that's what I want anymore."

"So you might not go back?"

Dieter hopes the eagerness in his voice isn't too obvious. 

"I don't know," you answer honestly before sliding off the pool noodle and paddling in place. "I'm tired. I think I'm gonna have a nap."

Dieter watches you walk up the steps of the pool, ass twitching as you grab a towel and head into the main house. But that's not what causes the grin to start on his face.  

You're not sure about going back to school. 

There's hope. 

"Just this once," Dieter murmurs, his teeth skating along your pulse point. "C'mon baby." 

You’re on all fours, your stomach supported by a variety of pillows. Dieter is behind you, hands on your hips, his body tilting over yours. It’s a Saturday night and he’s just got back from a particularly boring table read.

His hands found yours without question when he got home not long ago, pulling you along with him to bed and whispering into your ear the one thing he’s wanted to hear since he got you pregnant.

You sigh heavily, eyes closed as he sinks into you.

"Please make me come… Daddy.” 

Dieter groans lowly in his throat, his cock driving into you deeply. You're too overwhelmed by the sensation to be turned off by the honorific. And if he’d just left it at that, you could have continued without further distraction.

But Dieter is completely turned on by the expression, his hands coming to hold yours to the mattress as he tilts his mouth to your temple.

"Yeah, you made me a Daddy," Dieter breathes against your ear as he thrusts. "You like that? Huh? Daddy fucking you?" 

“Not at all,” you cringe, unable to help yourself from laughing. The entire ‘Daddy’/‘Mommy’ thing has never turned you on.  “I hate it worse than baby mama.”

Dieter sighs, his motions slowing. "C'mon."

"It's creepy," you tell him. "I don't like the Daddy thing."

"Fine," Dieter grumbles as his motions slow further. "Just wanted a little dirty talk is all."

Dieter’s thrusting has gone from staccato-ed to completely still. You glance over your shoulder at him with your brows raised. His cheeks are red, he’s embarrassed. Dieter rarely gets embarrassed like this and you find it completely endearing.

 “I was just trying to have a little fun,” Dieter pouts, about to pull out of you.

“Hey hey, I like fun,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck so he can’t leave in a huff. You start to push back against his length, gratified when you hear him give a muffled whimper into your shoulder.

“Like maybe you tie me up sometime?”

“You’d let me do that?” Dieter asks in awe, his cock slipping further into you. You groan at the sensation, arm dropping as you gain purchase on the mattress once more. His thrusting is increasing in tempo again, stoking that pleasured spot within you.

“Yeah,” you breathe softly. “Yeah, I would.”

And you mean it. You’ve never done it with anyone else, but you would with Dieter. He doesn’t do things harsh and cruel. He touches you reverently. You trust him. “I’d let you tie my wrists and ankles,” you tell him, body arching as he continues to thrust. “Let you have your way with me.”

Dieter gives a guttural choke at the very thought of it. You tied up, spread eagle on his bed so he could go down on you for hours. Pulling delicious fucking noises from you as you writhe for him.

“Would you want that?” you tease, knowing very well he would.  “Having me at your mercy, Dieter?  Fucking me exactly how you want?”

“Yes,” Dieter almost shouts, “fuck yes I would. Please…. Fuck I…”

His forehead dips to your shoulder blade as he pulls you back and forth against his length, jutting his hips forward. You feel so good, so silken and tight and perfect and he can’t believe this is happening. That you’ve fallen into this comfortably rhythm of give and take. That you can be vulnerable with him like this.

“How would you fuck me?” you ask, feeling your climax approaching. “Tell me, Dieter, I’m so close.”

“Would eat you out for hours. Wouldn’t…. wouldn’t be able to help myself,” Dieter grunts, his cock quickly pressing into you over and over. “Then I’d turn you over...a-and I’d tie your wrists together, mmmph…. And I’d…I’d-“

Dieter doesn’t get to finish that thought because he feels you hit your peak, whining out his name as you climax. Dieter feels your cunt milking his cock and his voice croaks out some garbled gibberish as he empties himself into you.

You fall asleep not long after that, your naked body glowing in the moonlight like some goddess of myth. He realizes he would do anything to keep you like this. Happy and sated and with him.

But mostly, he wants you to want him. 

"You said you got into RADA right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't go," Dieter says as he goes over his latest script suggestion from his agent. "Got a reoccurring part in a soap opera a few weeks before I was starting and then the first Cliff Beasts and then, well, you know the rest."

"Do you still have your audition tape?" 

"It's on YouTube. Some asshole uploaded it when I got nominated for my Oscar."

"Really? Can we watch it?"

"Knock yourself out."

Dieter watches you waddle to the tv room, excitedly bringing YouTube up on the television and typing Dieter Bravo RADA audition. 

You sit on the couch, looking eagerly up at the screen. A very fresh-faced Dieter pops up. 

"Oh my gosh you're so young!" You say with a girlish giggle. "So weird to see you without a beard."

Dieter can't help but casually make his way over to the couch, plopping down next to you and watching his younger self. 

"Hi my name is Dieter Bravo and I would like to submit myself for acceptance into your program," the young Dieter says, eyes bright and smile big. "Today I'll be performing Gloumov’s monologue from The Diary of a Scoundrel” by Alexander Ostrovsky."

"Your voice is so different."

The young Dieter positions himself slightly to the left of the screen. 

"Barely out of puberty." Dieter casts a critical eye over his formerly svelte frame. "And about fifty pounds lighter."

"I like how you look now," you answer honestly. "More manly."

Before Dieter can accept that compliment his younger self is starting the scene. 

"Look into my eyes. Can’t you see there that I’d rather die than cause you a moment’s pain?"

Young Dieter takes a moment, his dark eyes beguiling as he stares into the camera, overcome, before continuing. And there on the screen You see the same transformation that you saw back on set in Ireland. Where Dieter becomes the character. 

"Oh, if you only knew how many times your sweet, gentle smile has stopped me on the very brink of impropriety," the young Dieter pauses, his eyes shiny. 

"But even that day when I forgot myself, you didn’t turn me from the house! Oh, my God, what happiness you’ve given me. What happiness, what happiness!"

A tear is shining on young Dieter's cheek as he gives a soft smile into the camera, a look of relief on his face. 

"Holy shit," you breathe, eyes wide. "Dieter that was ... Really good."

"You sound surprised."

"Well I guess ... I've only really seen you in the Cliff Beasts movies. I didn't know you could, you know, act-act."

"You thought I won an Oscar for having a great personality?"

You give him a playful shove as Dieter's younger self comes back to the screen. 

"Thank you for your time. Hope I see you in the fall."

Dieter plucks the remote from the coffee table about to change it to something less him. He tires of seeing his face on televisions and phones and sides of buses. 

Something captures his attention though, one of the suggested videos on the right. 

"Hmmm, there's a video on home births," Dieter says as he navigates the screen. "Wanna watch? Might prep us."

"Sure."

Thirty minutes later Dieter pauses the television, both of you sitting shell-shocked next to one another. 

"That was a terrible idea."

"I agree."

The camera had captured everything. In HD detail. Up close. Including a very vivid image of a baby crowning.

"That's what's gonna happen to me?" You say in a high pitched voice, struggling to your feet. "I can't do that!"

You've been reading books ever since the strip turned pink, but actually seeing it is totally different.

"A little late for that," Dieter says from the couch watching you begin to pace back and forth in front of the television. 

"That was disgusting," you say with a particularly aggressive jab of your finger towards the television. "Did you know about the placenta? It's like I have to give birth twice!"

"At least it's not twins," Dieter offers weakly. He doesn't miss the irritation that flashes in your eyes. 

"Should we watch the rest?"

"Your call," Dieter shrugs. You take a moment, looking at the television paused on a serious looking doctor. 

You take your seat next to Dieter once more. "Okay. I'm ready."

Twelve minutes later the movie is shut off indefinitely.

"An episiotomy?" You practically shriek before leaving the room. "If that happens I'm charging you extra, Bravo!"

Your mother starts to come over weekly for coffee. The first time she does you show her the nursery. She's all smiles and wet eyes as she walks around the space. You know she's marveling at the high-end designer items, the impossibly soft sheets and ornately carved crib. You never grew up with expensive things like that. 

When the two of you make your way into the kitchen and you make her a coffee she smiles up at you. 

"Dieter told me about the charity he's thinking of creating."

You almost drop the espresso cup that you're holding. "You talk with Dieter?"

"Of course," she nods. "He calls me to update me on the baby and texts the odd photo every now and again."

"What?!"

You're struck dumb by this. Your mother barely texts you, and now she's best friends with your boss? She smiles at your discomfiture.  But you’re blown away, and a little irritated since you also send your mom updates via email almost daily when she’s not here for her weekly (decaf) coffee checkups and snuggles.

"You fit right in here."

"I'm just part of the scenery until the baby gets here" you smile pouring her the coffee and sliding the mug towards her across the counter. "Then it's back to school and on my way to a PhD for research."

You slice up the carrot cake that Petra made for your visit (along with your help), sliding a plate to your mother and taking one for yourself.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," your mom says, gaze curious. "Why are you doing the PhD thing?"

You sit across from her, brows raised. "You know why, Mom."

"It’s just you never wanted one before your father passed," she says lightly. "You said your Masters was enough."

You don't know why but you feel defensive. 

"Well when he died I wanted to do something to honor him I guess. What better way to do that than by helping with the research?"

"Your father was a smart man, he was amazing at his job and so proud of you, you know that," your mother tells you before placing a dry hand over yours. "But his biggest joy in life was being a father."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying I don't want you to dedicate your life to something because you feel like you should. This is your life, my love. You only get one."

"I know."

"There are plenty of ways to give back, to honor your father and still be around to watch your son grow up."

Your hackles immediately rise and she can tell the second they do. 

"I'm sorry," she says quickly when she sees the expression on your face. "Never mind. Let's talk about something else."

The rest of the visit flows smoothly, but you can’t ignore the way your mother looks at you whenever you mention Dieter.

"Taco Bell."

Dieter is woken out of a deep sleep by your lips at his ear. You're curled up together in his bed, your belly prodding his lower back. 

"A Burrito supreme and a large Baja blast… And Cinnamon Twists…And four fire sauce packets."

You're warm against his spine, voice a soft whisper huffed along his earlobe. He’s dazed, his eyes blurry as he attempts to understand what’s happening.

"Huh?"

"I need Taco Bell," you urge. "Please?"

A quick glance at his phone tells him that it's nearing 2:00 a.m.

"S'too late for the delivery apps, baby," he murmurs, patting your thigh companionably as if the conversation is now over. 

For the most part, Dieter can anticipate and appease your cravings. Usually through Petra or food delivery apps. But at almost two in the morning he has access to neither. 

You don't care. 

You've been tossing and turning for hours because all you can think about is the beans and tomato and beef... You're practically drooling already. You pat his bottom politely, trying to signal he needs to get out of bed.  

"The drive thru is open."

"It's late."

"But I need it," you whine. 

You have no interest in attempting to drive one of Dieter's fancy foreign cars he keeps in the large garage. And it's too late to call a town car so you're stuck. 

"No one ever needs Taco Bell. Bringing that shit in here is offensive," he mutters into his pillow. "S'full of filler and chemicals."

You give a soft exhale through your nose, about to flop onto your back in defeat when something occurs to you. Something else that you're craving as well.  

Dieter is drifting back to sleep when he feels the light graze of your hand sliding over his hip. He thinks he's imagining it, but as the sensation continues his cock begins to stir. He goes rigid as your hand slides under his boxers, fingertips teasing his warm length as he groans. 

"You do this for me and I'll do something for you when you get back," you purr, tongue coming to trace his lobe. "Daddy." 

Dieter jumps out of the bed and nearly trips in his pursuit to grab his car keys as he simultaneously tugs on his sweatpants. 

"You want cheesy potatoes too?"

When you wake up at seven months pregnant and see your reflection one morning you almost burst into tears.

You’re standing in front of the dresser mirror in your bikini, the only one left that fits. Your tits are practically bursting out of the cups, the bottoms tie at your hips dig into your flesh. You feel huge, you feel ugly and you feel not yourself.

There’s a knock at the bedroom door. Dieter peeks around, already dressed for the pool, a pink towel slung over his freckled shoulder.

“Swim time?”

Usually you swim by yourself, but Dieter has a rare free morning this week and he wants to take advantage. It had seemed like such a nice suggestion at breakfast, but now you balk, wishing you had anything else to wear but your fucking bikini.

Before it hadn’t mattered, but today you feel gross. You want to cover up as much as possible and you reach for your towel. But Dieter’s eyes are already drifting over your body, his cock stirring.

Dieter takes in the way your stomach protrudes out in the bikini, a beacon of fertility; his son nestled there safe within your body. He moves into the room, the towel dropping without thought onto the floor behind him.

"You're exquisite," Dieter breathes, his hand coming to rest on your belly. You feel his thumb gently rub, his eyes sparkling as he continues to stare at you.

"I look disgusting," you say cringing away from him. Dieter won't let go of your wrist as you try to flee. 

"Are you fucking insane?" 

“Dieter stop,” you say, wincing away from him and trying to pull your wrist out of his warm grip.

"You don't believe me," Dieter states flatly. 

"No I don't," you reply sharply. "It's what everyone tells pregnant women so they don't feel shitty about looking like a house."

Dieter blinks at you as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing before he’s shaking his head. His hands slide to your plush hips, turning you back to face the dresser. His eyes have blown pitch black, and his hands can’t stop from running along your body. 

"Look at her," Dieter groans into your ear. "Look at that sexy thing in the mirror."

"Dieter-"

"Keep looking," he urges you, hand gently forcing your face in the direction of the mirror before his hands slide up your bikini top over your breasts, pebbling the nipples. You swallow at the sensation, not even protesting when he unties it at the back, letting the colorful fabric drop to the ground.

You stand there in nothing but your bikini bottoms, cheeks flushed as Dieter groans deliciously behind you.  His hands come to cup your tits, thumbs grazing the protruding nipples.

“See her gorgeous fucking tits?”

You cringe away from the mirror, hating how you look. But if Dieter is lying about how turned on he is, he’s a better actor than you ever gave him credit for because his cock is swelling against your lower back, stiff and pulsing.

You let him untie your bikini bottoms, finding yourself already slick between your legs when they drop to the ground along with everything else. You watch in the mirror as Dieter sheds his swim shorts before gently urging you to place your forearms on the dresser.

You can only watch his face as he notches his cock at the entrance to your pussy, rubbing the head there and gathering the copious amounts of slick. His eyes flick from your face to your cunt as if he can’t decide which he needs to see more.

“Keep watching yourself, beautiful,” He rasps as he sinks into you, cock thick and full as you gasp. You’ll never tire of that sensation, the first thrust of his cock inside you. Your head falls forward but Dieter’s hand is there, gently making a fist in your hair and urging your face to the mirror.

"See how beautiful she looks when she's taking my cock?"

You can't see shit. Your belly is ballooned so far out you can barely handle it. But you look at your face and you see the heavy eyes and parted lips. You see the way you arch into Dieter’s body and how he towers over you and yeah... It's hot. 

"Cock drunk," Dieter tells you with a swell of pride. "All sexy and sleepy looking." 

His hands come to brace yours on the dresser, his dark eyes fixed on yours in the mirror.

"You see her?" Dieter pants, teeth gritting. "You see her tits bouncing? Feel her sweet pussy taking my cock? She's fucking magnificent. How can you say she’s not the sexiest thing alive?"

The way he talks about your reflection makes you almost jealous until you remember that it's you he's talking about. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Dieter babbles as he nears his orgasm. “Never been more turned on in my fucking life.”

And he means it. He means every fucking word. He can’t stop touching you, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, your mouth when you tilt back to face him. You whimper his name when he starts to fuck into you harder and harder.

“Come deep, Dieter,” you grunt. “Fuck me full.”

He does with one final thrust, painting your insides as he cries out your name.  

Despite this interlude you still suffer with crisis of confidence at times in the coming weeks. Your back is in constant pain. You waddle when you walk. You've never felt less attractive. 

Dieter is obsessed. He can't stop finding reasons to touch you, brushing your lower back when he passes you in the hall.

All pretenses of employer and employee are gone. You’re basically in his bed every night, fucking him whenever you get the chance. Neither of you observe it outright, but it’s there lingering under the surface every time he asks if you’re ready to go to bed. It’s there when you shower together, washing each other’s hair. It’s there when you both murmur good morning and let him kiss you languidly over coffee.

When he catches you napping in the sunshine on his couch he's so taken with you that you wake up to find his curly head between your legs and his mouth bringing you to a gentle orgasm. You keen against his lips, hands going to card through his hair as you come. 

You know why he's like this. It's because things are coming rapidly to an end. Once the baby is here this all ends. This ready access to sex, you lounging around his house. He'll have a newborn and you'll have a new life. You won't see him. You'll have your money, you'll be going back to school, and your mom's mortgage is paid off. 

Dieter knows how you feel about snuggling and he goes to pull away. 

"Don't," you say, arms outstretched, mouth twisted into a pout. Dieter stares at you in surprise, big puppy dog eyes wide. It makes you melt. He wraps himself around you, face nuzzling into your neck. The two of you snuggle there as you flick on the television to a Christmas special.

Just when you think Dieter is becoming a mature and sensible adult you feel him sigh heavily behind you.

“I'm not watching that depressing Christmas movie!" Dieter insists when It’s a Wonderful Life starts up. "I wanna watch the Muppet Christmas Carol!"

He can’t understand why you can’t stop laughing.

One quiet morning with Dieter filming audio reshoots for the Rogue Duchess you sit at the kitchen table, pensive. You stare at the pro and con list you've made sitting in front of you. 

Ever since the conversation with your mother you've been second guessing your next steps post birth. Are you just doing it because you think you should be? Are you doing it because that's what you were doing when your dad died? Are you doing it because of misplaced guilt?

Your dad had been so proud of you, telling everyone about your Masters problem and how you were well on your way to a PhD like him.  

He talked fondly about having two doctors and a nurse in the house, joking that your home would become like Grey's Anatomy. 

Even then you'd felt a bit of the pressure to perform. To pursue a PhD to make him proud. In all your focus and pursuit you'd never really stopped to ask yourself... Is this what you want? 

Pros - honor dad - get to be called doctor at the end Cons  - no social life - have to move to Sacramento for several years - not guaranteed a job I like when I graduate - away from mom  - STRESS - possible burnout - job market is competitive - won't necessarily make me happy

You need to add something else. Something that's been in the back of your head screaming for your attention. You raise your pen to the paper, adding your final item to the con list. 

- Too far away from Dieter and Bubble. 

And then a sentence you write and then immediately erase before crumpling the entire paper up in a ball.

- I'm in love with Dieter. 

[8:43am] D: It hasn't even started and I'm bored out of my fucking mind

[8:44am]: Dieter it'll be fun.

[8:44am] D: no it won't. I HATE these fucking marathon interview days 

Hours and hours of sitting with Mia and the rest of the crew talking about the upcoming film being released in a few months. He's covered in concealer and powder, his stylist has him in some absurdly patterned shirt that itches and he desperately needs a cigarette. 

[8:45am] D: I wanna be at home with you---

He hesitates before deleting that last message. He can't send you messages like that. You're not dating, no matter how much it feels like you are. He feels twitchy now, all out of sorts as he thinks about you home and waiting for him.

He sneaks off to the corner of the hotel, hoping he can get off a few puffs before Diane wrangles him back inside. 

He lights his cigarette, puffing away. He scans the space to make sure it's just hotel employees before he brings out his phone, going through his photos. He lands on the one from the other night, you mid laugh as the Jenga tower falls. You look so happy, so at ease. 

He’s so ridiculously in love with you.

How can he let you go? How can he go from seeing you every day to you becoming a stranger? You've got one foot out the door at all times and he doesn’t want to hold you back from your dreams. 

It was so easy to play house these past few months. To pretend like you were his. He was such a fool.

"Spare one?"

Dieter fumbles the phone, shoving it a hastily back into his jacket pocket. Its Mia dressed in a sleek black number, her makeup and hair perfect. She motions to the cigarette between his long fingers. 

"My last one," he says ruefully. 

Mia holds out her manicured fingers in his direction. "A quick puff then."

Dieter relents, handing it off to her. She takes a long drag, enjoying the curl of the smoke as the two of them stand shoulder to shoulder in silence. It feels awkward being together alone, the two of them haven't spoken since Prague. Dieter feels the need to fill the silence. 

"How's Sam?"

"He's good," Mia nods. "He's not secretly in love with his assistant so it's already much better than my last relationship."

Dieter can't help but let out a small chuckle at that.  Mia has been seen all over the tabloids in recent weeks with her hunky new Scottish co-star. Mia looks at Dieter with a small tilt of her head, squinting up at him.

"You tell her yet?"

"Tell who what?"

Mia takes another drag off the cigarette, giving him a leveling look.  "You know who and you know what."

Dieter says nothing, watching as Mia holds the cigarette aloft. She gives a dramatic sign when she sees. He's going to make her have to say it.

"Have you told your PA that you're fucking crazy about her," Mia says flatly. "That you want to marry her and have tons of little Bravo's running around."

"I do not."

"Maybe just the one little Bravo then," Mia smiles, handing him his cigarette. He feels her heavy gaze on him and he knows that she deserves answers. He put her through a lot and she has been gracious as hell about it.

He sighs heavily before twisting to face her head-on. "No, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"It’s…complicated." 

"What's complicated about love?"

"She told me she doesn't want to be a part of the baby's life."

"Back when she thought you only wanted to be together because you got her pregnant."

"She doesn't want me."

"Dieter I see how she looks at you. The girl is utterly besotted." 

"Might want to tell her that," Dieter huffs in forced amusement. 

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you’ve really never made it clear how you feel about Dieter. Yes, you like the sex and you laugh with him. But you’ve never actually made overtures, talked about the future. You think of a future that doesn’t include him or your son.

Mia pauses for a moment, thinking about something. Her eyes scan the vicinity and before Dieter can do anything Mia grips him by the collar and plants a chaste kiss to his lips. Dieter pulls back immediately, his face cloudy.

"What the fuck-"

"You'll thank me," Mia promises.

He goes to say something to her about how uncool that was but a text from you sails in, almost as if fate is giving him the prompt he needs.

[8:58am]: If I wanted to postpone school for a little bit, do you think I could still stay with you? I could pay rent and everything. I think I just want to reconsider some things. Dunno if school is where I want to be right now.

“Fuck yes,” Dieter breathes, re-reading the message several times to make sure he’s not reading it wrong. You want to stay. You want to stay longer with him. He's still staring at your text with a goofy smile on his face when Mia’s voice sounds out beside him. 

“Dieter, c'mon! Interviews are starting.”

He shoves his phone into his pocket, his grin bright as he follows Mia back inside the hotel for the marathon of interviews.

You want to stay.

The alert comes through on your phone, the setting still stuck on sending you Dieter Bravo related news items. 

You're relaxing on one of the chairs in the backyard, one hand gently rubbing your belly, the other holding your latest crime thriller novel. 

When the alert goes off its instinct to shut the book and retrieve the phone from the table beside you. Normal to scan the links that show up. 

BRAV-ROWE ROMANCE BACK ON? 

You sit up slowly, holding your expansive belly and grunting angrily. You continue reading as you walk inside, pacing around the kitchen. 

Bravo, 40, and Rowe, 25, were spotted earlier today stealing kisses between interviews for their upcoming release The Rogue Heiress. What’s setting tongues wagging is that Rowe has also been recently seen getting cozy with Sam Heughen, 43, back in her native England only last week. Was Sam just a distraction from her real feelings for Bravo? Or is this just a cleverly executed publicity stunt for their upcoming film? 

You slam your phone down onto the counter, irritation flooding you all over. 

What the fuck?

Here you are pining over this guy and he's off kissing his ex? 

Even their couple name is adorable. It fits. Your cheeks are flaming red at the realization that you fell for it. You fell for his lines, for his sweet eyes and sweeter mouth. You let yourself get swept up in a romance that isn't even real.

Dieter is an actor. He knows how to fake anything.

"I'm so fucking stupid," you say shaking your head. Bubble gives a gentle kick, drawing your attention back to the present.

 “Sorry honey. Mom’s not stupid. Just fucking naive.”

It's dark when Dieter finally makes it home, shrugging of his jacket and toeing off his shoes. He wants to go to bed, to hold you after this long and boring day. 

But you're not in bed. You're seated on the couch with the TV off. Your crossword book is beside you but you don't look like you've been working on it. Dieter feels a smile break out over his features at the sight of you in his home. 

"Hi baby," he murmurs as he approaches, confused when you slowly turn to face him with a furious look on your face. "What’s wrong?"

“Have anything to tell me?”

“Uh…no?”

He watches you throw your head back and give an obviously false laugh. “No?”

“No.”

“Kiss any old girlfriends lately, Dieter?”

Dieter is stunned. How the hell did you find out about that? "How-"

"It's all over TMZ and now all the other news outlets," you say, teeth clenching. Dieter thinks about the way Mia checked around them before kissing him. You take a seat on the couch, arms crossed over your chest.

"I didn't just go kiss her," Dieter defends, coming to sit next to you. "She kissed me."

"Didn't really seem like you were fighting her on it."

You hold up your phone where the picture of Mia kissing Dieter is blown up. It's clear you've been studying the picture. Mia’s hand is on his collar, Dieter’s hand is on hers, but only so that he could pull it off. But to the outside viewer this looks very intimate.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“No? Because what it looks like is you kissing your ex girlfriend.”

Dieter takes in the red of your cheeks and the way you’re clenching your jaw and despite everything a little thrill goes through him. 

"Why are you so upset?" Dieter purrs.

"I'm not," you insist.

You feel furious and out of sorts and you can't tell him why because you'll sound like a jealous girlfriend which you absolutely aren't. 

"You sound upset."

"Well I'm not." You chew at your bottom lip angrily. "It's just rude you know? Sleeping with me and seeing Mia. Does she-"

"I'm not seeing Mia," Dieter interjects. 

"I have eyes Dieter," you scoff. 

"She gave me a quick peck after we talked about Sam Heughan, her boyfriend, who she is in a committed relationship with."

"Yeah right."

Dieter stops a moment to take in your flushed cheeks, bright eyes and the arms that cross in front of you. You don’t want him to be seeing Mia and that can only mean one thing and that makes Dieter feel warm all over. His arm is on the back of the couch, almost behind your shoulders.

"You're jealous."

"I'm not," you insist, face heating. 

"Then why are you acting like this?" He probes, shifting closer to you on the couch. "Tell me the truth."

He’s so close and he smells so good and you just fucking… you just…

"Because you're mine."

It comes spilling out of you like a dam, a rush, a torrent of words that once said cannot be taken back. But for once you don’t want them taken back. You want him to know exactly what you mean, especially as you launch yourself towards him, your arms going around his neck, your stomach plump between the two of you. Dieter is grinning so widely his face might crack as he gazes at you on his lap. 

"I'm yours?"

"Yes," you all but growl, pushing him backwards until his broad shoulders hit the seat cushions of the couch and you begin straddling his prone body. His cock is rock hard through his pants, pressing into your core through your panties. 

You tug them to the side, not even bothering to take them off. Dieter is already sliding off his pants and boxers, smiling up at you eagerly. He's pulsing between your thighs, hissing with pleasure as you notch him at your soaked entrance. 

"Not hers," you grunt, sliding down his length with an aching groan escaping both of you. "No one else's. Just mine. You understand me, Bravo?"

You're staking your claim and Dieter is turned on out of his mind. You've never been possessive over him before, never been so commanding. Never been so clear in your desire for him. 

"Yes!"

He wishes he could hold you in his arms, but being laid out flat on his couch while you ride him isn't exactly torture. Your pussy milks his cock, a vice -like grip around his thick length. 

"I'm yours," Dieter repeats, thrusting up into your wet heat. "Just yours, baby."

"You only fuck me," you command, starting to bounce up and down in his lap the best you can with your swollen belly. His expression is pure delight, his wide palm on your hips. 

"Yes."

"Only I make you c-come," you try to sound authoritative but your hips are rolling over his and he feels so good. You're barrelling towards an orgasm with every husky assurance from him. 

"Only you," Dieter assures you, hands tightening around your gyrating hips. "And I only wanna make you come, baby. Only want you in my bed. Only you."

He's rambling and your eyes are cheating to the back of your head. You crest so fast, hands flying to the back of the couch so you can steady yourself. His hands slide up under your shirt and go to your breasts, pinching your pebbled nipples as you keen. 

"C'mon baby," Dieter encourages as he watches your head tilt back. "Take what's yours."

"Mine," you pant as you start to come, head lolling forward. Your body starts to give small little twitches as you groan. "Mine, mine, mine."

"Yours," Dieter breathes, gazing up at you. "Only yours."

He feels you come, soaking his cock with your release. He groans at the sight of your fucked out expression, your hips still undulating. 

"Now you," you command in a soft mewl. "Come for me, Dieter. Give my what's mine."

Your hands go to brace yourself on his chest, your hips lifting only to slide harshly back down, taking him as deep as possible. He feels a pleasurable stripe go up his spine.  

"It's all yours," he offers before his own pleasure overtakes him at the sight of your heavy-lidded expression. He comes deep, deeper than he ever has and he does so whimpering your name. 

You're both panting and you groan slightly as you pull yourself off of him, sitting back against the couch. Dieter rests there a few moments, his softened cock resting against his belly. He's smiling up at the ceiling like a madman. 

Then he's stripping off all his clothes and standing before urging you to do the same. 

"I'm fucking you in the shower," Dieter tells you as he pulls your t-shirt up over your head. "I want you to give me another one."

But you don't just give just him another one because it doesn't end in the shower. Or on the kitchen counter after a midnight snack. But in his bed where he urges you to the end of the bed and fucks you slowly standing next to the mattress, your thighs spread beautifully for him as his cock lazily saws in and out of you.

His hands grip your thighs tightly, urging you to bounce against his hips. Your bodies move together, the pleasure increasing.

“So good,” you croon, your forehead dotted with sweat. “You feel so perfect, Dieter.”

You’re babbling, high on the pleasure of his cock and his nearness. Dieter revels in it, the way you’re unabashedly giving him praise, the way you don’t stop him or shy away from him whispering sweet nothings into your neck.

“And I’m all yours,” he promises. You almost think you can read love in his eyes as they gaze down at you.

 “I’m all yours,” you tell him back without thought.

His thrusts increase, his hands holding you tightly, fingers splayed over your clit. He teases and rubs until you’re on the brink of another orgasm and you finally come in tandem, both of you trembling.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, kissing behind your ear as you shiver.

You don’t tell him you’re not his girl because right now you feel like you could be.

You wake up the next morning in Dieter’s bed with one of his legs wedged in between yours, his arm draped over your middle and his forehead against your neck. It feels right and it feels perfect and as your sleep clears…A mixture of shame and disbelief overtakes your body.

What the fuck was that last night? 

You'd been almost mad with rage at the sight of that TMZ pic. And when he'd come onto the couch you'd just felt this strange possessiveness overtake you. 

Just want you in my bed. Only you. 

Those words were so nice to hear. So gratifying. And you believed him about Mia and the photo. It had been all too easy to move past it, to allow him to lick into your mouth as he fucked you. You glance over your shoulder to see him sleeping, his hair falling into his closed eyes. 

Mine. 

No. Not mine. 

He's not yours. He can't be.

He's Dieter Bravo and you're you. Thinking that somehow you could be together is a delusion.  Dieter just hates being alone. And he knows that being a father is a huge deal. He knows that it's all going to rest on his shoulders and he's looking for a lifeline as your due date grows rapidly closer.  

He doesn't actually have feelings for you.

It's just that Mia might be out of the picture and he's clinging to whatever is in the vicinity - today it happens to be you. Tomorrow it'll be whatever model he's paired with at the next photo shoot. 

You've known him long enough to know his moods and his ever changing interests. In a couple of months when the baby is here and you're in Sacramento he'll probably have forgotten your name. 

The thought hurts if you linger on it. He's just clinging to a lifeline and you can't be around when he does inevitably move onto the next woman because it'll break your heart. 

You need to get the apartment now. You need to find out where you're going to be staying next semester. You need to be planning your life post birth. 

He didn’t even write back to your text yesterday even though it said he’d read it. The one asking if you could stay longer, that you were considering postponing school. And you know why – because this wasn’t the plan. Because Dieter’s interest is waning and you know it.

You pull yourself from the bed, out of Dieter’s warm arms and you try your best not to look back at his still sleeping form as you tiptoe out of the room.  

You return sometime in the afternoon to Dieter storming around the kitchen, looking frantic. He barrels towards you, tugging your hands that you quickly slide out of his grip.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

“I had it on silent.”

"Where were you?"

"I was at the library," you say as if it were the most obvious answer. Dieter looks like he’s been fisting his hands through his hair all day.

"You're not supposed-"

"I know I’m not supposed to leave, but I wore sunglasses and no one recognized me." You put your purse down on the ground. "I just needed somewhere quiet to organize my thoughts. I needed to research apartments without distractions."

"Apartments," Dieter repeats slowly. 

"Yeah, for next semester," You say breezily as you push past him and make your way into the kitchen. He follows hot on your heels like a desperate puppy all big eyes and furrowed brows.

"Next semester? I thought you were thinking of postponing?"

He watches you glance around in the fridge before pulling out a bowl of blueberries that Petra has left for you. 

"No point," you say, popping one in your mouth. "I decided I need to get focused and start as soon as possible. That reminds me though; I don't think I can really stay long after the baby is born. I'll want to get to Sacramento as soon as possible."

Dieter looks as if you've punched him. He's gone pale, his large eyes luminous. He's sagging against the counter as if his own body can't support him anymore. 

"What? Why?"

"I told you, I need to focus," you tell him, popping the blueberries back into the fridge. "And I know that I don't get paid until the Bubble is born but I'm wondering if I can get half now? I need to put a down payment on an apartment out there."

"You're buying an apartment in Sacramento?"

"Of course," you say, taking a deep breath. "I'll be in school for a few years; the rest of my Masters then the PhD, then my residency out there. Makes sense." 

"But ... You weren’t even sure about it," Dieter says weakly. 

"That was before I really thought about it," You say, shrugging. "I can't sit around my boss's house all day organizing his next manicure and making sure his latest fuck buddies sign NDA's."

Dieter straightens immediately, his jaw clenching.

Too far.

As soon as you say it you wish you could take it back. It's an ugly, unfair thing to say and you both know it.  But you feel exposed, like a raw nerve.

Dieter feels everything inside him twisting hideously. He was so fucking deluded to think you'd stay, to think you'd fallen for him the same way he has for you. He wants to scream at his idiocy. 

How are you just so okay with this? How can you walk away like the last several months have meant nothing?

Dieter can only stare at you, his eyes going from wide to narrowed. His hand curls into a loose fist at his side, the other still braced on the counter. 

“There's a contract," Dieter all but growls. "You get your money once the baby is born."

"I know,” you say quickly. “It's just that the tuition is due this month to hold my spot for next semester."

"That's not my problem."

You take a step back, brows knitted. You weren’t expecting that. 

“But-“

"You signed a contract stipulating that you wouldn't get the money until the baby is born," Dieter croaks. "So there's your answer."

He turns from you, heading down the hallway to his art studio. You follow close behind, waddling quickly to keep up. 

"Dieter I can't afford the place without that money."

"Read the contract," he snaps. "You signed it."

He quickly moves into the studio, slamming the door behind him.

He hears you on the other side of the door, breathing heavily. He’s worried you’re crying.

Finally he hears you shuffle away and he moves to the window, sitting in the chair he reserved for you when you return home with your son. He imagined painting both of you, the light bathing you both in a dreamy glow.

Dieter is devastated, his head resting heavily in his hands as he fights back the urge to sob.  

What the fuck happened? One minute you were insisting he was yours, your bodies working together beautifully. The next second you're telling him you're halfway out the door. 

You don’t want to be a mother. You never did. You always made that perfectly clear. He was just too besotted to understand.  He looks around his art room, feeling a fury building within him. What the fuck has this all been for? Why the fuck is he so fucking stupid? Why did he have to go and fall in love with you? 

He needs drugs. He needs alcohol. He needs something to take this stabbing pain away. And just as his trembling hand goes to his phone to call up Corey Brigham he glances up at the painting he's been currently working on. 

It's an oil painting image from a dream he had recently. One where he stands in the ocean up to his knees, the wind gentle and the day mild. Dieter is holding you back against him, his head over your shoulder, both of you gazing down at the tiny infant in your arms. 

And there's his son, eyes closed, a soft smile on his face. The image of what Dieter things he’ll look like.

My son. 

The cell phone is pushed back into his pocket. He's not living just for himself anymore. He's got a son he will put before himself in all ways. His son will not grow up with an absent father like Dieter did. 

All of a sudden his studio door bursts open. You look harried as you stride in, fixing him with a glare. He knows you want to tell him off and he wishes you didn't look so beautiful when you’re angry. 

"You're not supposed to be in here," Dieter insists, feeling a stab of anxiety go through him as you walk towards him. He leaps up from the chair, almost tripping over himself in his desire to usher you out of the room.

“We were in the middle of a conversation,” you snap. “You can’t just-“

Your cutting remarks die before they can be completely formed because as you glance around the room your eyes widen in shock. 

Dieter’s art room has always been a mix of canvas, paint spills, old coffee cups and grotesque sculptures. But right now all of the painted canvases are positioned around the room, sketches lining the drafting table under the window.

And they are all of you.

Ones of you with your belly swollen, sleeping on the couch. Others of you cross legged at the table hunched over your laptop. There's one of you with your face serene as you lay the bathtub, that night Dieter and you talked for hours. Snapshots of time, your belly at different stages. 

"Are these..." You go over to a stack of sketches. “Are these all me?”

Dieter is silent, his eyes drifting to your face when you take in the portrait he did of the three of you. Your hand goes to your belly instinctively as you take in the image.

“I always imagined he’d look like that,” you say with a soft little huff.

Your eyes go to the drafting table, sketches in charcoal sticking out to you. Some are dated as far back as Ireland, some even before that. Your fingers linger on one in particular of you chewing your bottom lip in thought, a pencil raised between your fingers. You glance at the date. 

“This was before I was pregnant.” You trail off, gaze moving back to his face. "How long have you been sketching me?"

Dieter shrugs and for the first time since you've known him he looks truly embarrassed. 

"A while." 

You move slowly towards him. "Why?"

He sighs, only steps away from you now.

"Isn't it obvious?" 

You swallow, feeling your heart pound a devastating rhythm. No, this can’t be real. He can’t be suggesting what you think he is.  And yet as he stands there, dark eyes wet you can’t help but wish for it to be real.

“I'm crazy about you,” Dieter confesses.

No, not confesses. That would suggest he wanted to keep it hidden, when it’s anything but.

“I just want to be with you all the time. I want to share everything with you. My life, my home, my everything. I want you here in this house with our son. I want to support you going back to school. I want to make you happy in any way I can but I want you to do it as mine.”

You want to say something, to say anything to this grand romantic speech, but your throat has tightened and your mouth gone dry. All you can do is stand there, staring at him like a pregnant idiot.

“And I know that’s selfish to say and I know it’s useless because you don’t love me back but I-I just needed you to know before you left,” Dieter continues, tears wetting the side of his cheek.

“You don’t need to love me back. Our son is a piece of you and if that’s all I can have of your love, that’s enough for me. He’s more than enough. I just. . . I needed you to know the truth, all of it. I fell for you way before you got pregnant, but after this time together I just, I’m...I love you.”

And now his tears are brushed away by the back of his hand and he looks as if he’s going to turn away from you, overcome with everything that he’s just admitted.

You can barely see through the tears in your eyes. All the feelings that have been swirling within you compel you to pitch forward, your hands outstretched, his name on your lips.

You’re about to cross the room, desperate for his touch when a stab of pain goes through you sharply, causing you to almost come to your knees.  You begin doubling over with a cry as Dieter runs to close the distance between you, his hand immediately on your back.

“What is it, baby?”

Dieter is confused when he sees an overwhelming amount of clear liquid running down your legs. Your eyes are round, wide and terrified when you look up to him.

"Dieter, I think I'm going into labor." 

taglist: @caramilena @lovely-vamp-princess @annieispunk @lu62 @getitoutofmymindwrites @noisynightmarepoetry @lizzie-cakes @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @missladym1981 @tammythr @swankyorange @jupiter-soups @dontknow446 @fluffygoffpanda @doblasftcisco @sunnysinbar @dinomecanico @eff4freddie @fancypants1215 @moel-jiller @picketniffler @khxna @spookyxsam @fancypants1215

@getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

#dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal characters

[willowser]

i don't know, there is something sweet to me about the idea of you and bakugou meeting when you're both at the end of your dating rope 🥺 he's been trying to find someone and make it work for a while, and you've been on date after date after date and it's just !! not working out !! for either of you !!

and it's really a last ditch effort on both your parts, your first meeting; in a moment of utter exasperation, bakugou doesn't immediately delete the dating app kirishima installs on his phone, and you don't believe pro-hero dynamight would be on such a thing and you figure the worst you'll get out of entertaining it is a good laugh !

but it's really him and it's really you, but you're both so worn out at this point that you're just expecting it to go nowhere. to not develop past the night and the awkward dinner at the overpriced restaurant he made reservations at and actually—

"can i be honest with you?" you speak up right outside the door, glancing between the man holding it open and bakugou. the real, true bakugou.

his eyebrows furrow, and then he simply shrugs.

"i — honestly don't want to eat here," you admit, sending an apologetic smile to the employee still standing there. reservations have been made, you know that, and maybe bakugou is going to get angry at you for this, but you don't think you can swallow down another hour of small, meaningless talk. "i'd rather get, i don't know, ice cream, maybe."

if he tosses you aside now, it'll be for the better, you think. just get it over with, so you can stop wasting each other's time.

— but he only sighs, runs a hand through his hair that messes it up a little. and then bakugou grunts, "fine by me," and heads off down the sidewalk without hesitation.

and it must be the weariness that you both carry, that waters down your nerves into something more manageable; you tell him openly that you're not going to sleep with him, and he openly tells you that he doesn't want that either. you tell him about your ex-partner and the last three dates you went on — all things you've been told by friends not to bring up — and he tells you that he probably won't be around anytime soon, with work and all.

you share ice cream because he doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, but he pays for it and doesn't complain about the flavor. he doesn't ask you about your job or what you like to do for fun, but you walk half-way across town while talking about silly things, random things, things you shouldn't tell a stranger and yet find no reason not to.

after so long in a shitty dating pool, you're just expecting this to go wrong, to end on a weird, dull note — and so neither of you really know how to say goodbye, when it's way too late and your hand has found its way into his and you realize that you maybe don't want to let go, just yet.

#waaahhhhh you're both so OVER trying to be presentable LOL #he's tired of pretending certain things dont bother him or trying to be some charming asshole that he's not #and you're tired of trying to be agreeable while also being funny and mysterious and carefree and all the other things magazine's tell — #— you to be #his hair gets a little messy and your shirt sits awkwardly over your stomach when you slouch but neither of you CARE ANYMORE #and there's something about the humanness 🥺 that you both see 🥺 #that makes it like......ykw i might like this guy 🥺 #WAAAHHHH #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Maybe making a bento for the kamaboko squad?

Anon (´∀｀•) This was such a nice request to receive! It just instantly sent my head into fluffy territory and it was just a pleasure to write.

It also made me want to make a bento?

if you have any other requests like this one - or literally any other type of request - then please send it in because your more than welcome too <3

Making a Bento for the Kamaboko Squad!:

Tanjirou Kamado:

Ok, first off! Tanjirou would literally eat anything and everything you made him - seriously, head AND stomach of steel

Obviously if you took the time to make it all pretty and presentable he would look it in awe and eat it slowly to properly savoir the presentation and flavoring

Loves it when you pack him all the home cooked meals

He's happy with food that were left over from breakfast or dinner from yesterday - so long as its something you've made

Enjoys your Miso Yaki Onigiri with Honey Soy Chicken with a side of cherry tomatoes + sauteed cabbage

Anything yummy makes him happy - well... anything that you've put time and effort in is always gonna make him happy

Wouldn't say he has a big sweet tooth but he really can't turn down your desserts - especially if freshly made!

Particularly loves your Matcha Marble Pound Cake

If you ask him, Tanjirou will help you make your's and his bento's

Nezuko Kamado:

Nezuko loves your bento's

She loves the bright colours of the food that you use - it always makes her happy to see that you've added something into the rice to make it slightly pink

Nezuko also has a soft spot for sweet things so when you add extra Tamagoyaki (sweetened omelette) from breakfast to her bento it adds a little pep in her step

She really loves forward to the bento's you make during cherry blossom season cause everything is cherry blossomed themed - lots of cherry blossom themed desserts too! e.g. Cherry Blossom milk pudding

Oh! Enjoys abit of Sweet and Sour in her bento - specifically when you use the lefter overs from your sweet and sour chicken + vegetables with steamed rice

Sweet and Sour Chicken with Japanese Potato Salad and steamed rice with sesame seeds and umeboshi (pickled plum) + cherry tomatoes

Will absolutely help you make the bento's

Inosuke Hashibira:

He's still getting used to receiving a packed bento - Inosuke was really confused when you first gave him one

Doesn't see the point of all the pretty food shapes and colours to begin with but he does secretly enjoy it when you shape and do all that stuff with his food - it just helps prove that you love him cause your making him food and making it into things he likes

Cackles when he opens his bento up and there's onigiri shaped like boars + pigs

Will eat anything that's smothered in teriyaki sauce or tempure-d

Absolutely adores sweet potato pie and will eat an entire one to himself.... - its safe to say that you put at least a couple of slices in his bento when you make a pie to hold him off

To give him his vitamins in the form of fruits, other than berries, you usually pack him a Fruit Sandwich/Fruit Sando - a taste sweet dessert in sandwich form that consists of sweet milk bread, fresh whipped cream with strawberries, kiwi and orange - which you usually have to give him extra as he scoffs down the first one

don't ask him to help make the bento's.....he'll eat everything as your preparing them...

Zenitsu Agatsuma:

Absolutely sobs when you give him a bento.... actually that happens every single time you make him a bento

Enjoys literally all of your food

Will absolutely sob while eating it...

Really enjoy when you use ginger and honey in the foods

Has a softspot for your Ginger Pork Onigirazu

Although he really loves when you pack Nikujaga (Meat and Potato Stew) with Shirataki Noodles with a side of Miso eggplant in his bento

Loves all the desserts/sweet things that you pack him

Doesn't matter what type of dessert - cake,mochi, crepe, etc. - its going into his stomach

although if he had to pick a favourite, it would have to be your Warabi Mochi

You can ask him to help prepare the bento's but he will add more stuff than needed or add the wrong decorations and/or seasonings

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #nezuko kamado x reader #inosuke hashibira x reader #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #kny tanjiro kamado #kny tanjiro kamado x reader #anime x reader #x reader #nezuko x reader #zenitsu x reader #inosuke x reader #kny nezuko x reader #kny inosuke x reader #kny zenitsu x reader #demon slayer tanjirou x reader #demon slayer tanjiro x reader #demon slayer nezuko x reader #demon slayer zenitsu x reader #demon slayer inosuke x reader #kimetsu no yaiba nezuko x reader #kimetsu no yaiba zenitsu x reader #kimetsu no yaiba inosuke x reader #kimetsu no yaiba tanjiro x reader

[de4dlyniightshade]

Headcanons request:

Spencer’s dream partner. What do you think is important to him? Do you think he has a “type”?

And since you mentioned him and I JUST got the movie to watch - any fun headcanons for Chip??

half of this is me lowkey projecting but sue me. i'm delusional.

has to be patient for sure because he's really inexperienced in all aspects of a relationship and is terrified of rejection so he takes a while to open up about things and be comfortable with certain things.

words of affirmation! he loves being told that he did good at something or that he looks nice and loves doing the same for you because he loves to see your happy expression.

curvy woman lover!!! every time he hears derek talking about curvy women he's always talking about their ass and boobs but spencer is just like <soft3 and <squishy3 he loves to lay his head on a soft pair of thighs.

i don't think he'd have much a preference for like hair colour or length but i think shorter hair is a plus for him so when you're cuddling it's not in his face too much.

loves someone who dresses alternative and doesn't care what others think or how they feel about it.

really shy about pda but also loves it because it shows him you're not embarrassed of him and that you actually like showing him off so he'd probably like someone who's completely comfortable with pda.

has to like cats. i've seen some people saying spencer would never be a cat person bcs he needs them to cuddle him when he wants but you're telling me he wouldn't raise the sweetest little girl cat ever? she'd be already waiting at the door for him beside you wdym???

has to enjoy old movies and music because it's what he likes and listens to and he loves sharing his interests with others.

as for fun chip hcs!!!

very forgetful like it's obvious in the movie he's pretty scatterbrained but oh my god he's the definition of the expression he'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his neck.

very oblivious to danger and way too trusting and gets himself into some tight situations way too often.

wholeheartedly believes platypuses aren't real.

such a sweetheart like genuinely the most loving and kind man ever but he's just a little slow at times but with the right person it's very endearing rather than annoying.

refuses to eat things he's never tried but claims he doesn't like(me fr)

has such a sweet tooth like it doesn't matter what just anything sweet, especially cake.

can't cook. anything. and is scared of the microwave. claims he doesn't trust it.

loves driving with you and listening to music but it almost always ends up with you in a secluded area and getting it on in the backseats.

#📬 maeve's mailbox! #💌 headcanon segment!!!∩^ω^∩ #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #dr spencer reid #mgg #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #mgg smut #chip taylor #68 kill

[gojoux]

『 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 』

· Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

· Summary: You'd never imagine your boyfriend would sulk over a shaved ice. He wants the same flavor, but with different colors.

· CW: 1.5k // Fluff. Gojo being dramatic.

Inspired by this / this. Gojo being canonically called Ojisan (annoying uncle/old man) is just so funny 😭

It's the time of summer, and the weather is particularly hot today. You turn the air conditioner on in the bedroom, setting it at the coldest temperature, before you walk outside and close the door, letting the coolness fill the room until you come in again later to chill with your boyfriend.

“Satoru,” you call out to him who is sitting on the living room's couch. His body is plopped lazily on the couch, manspreading with his arms propped on the arm rest. He's wearing a thin material t-shirt with shorts, and his hair is messy.

Gojo turned his head for a while when he heard your voice to greet you back. “Hey, darling. What can I do ya for?” He reaches for the television remote, intending to put something on, but then changes his mind.

“Actually, why don't we do something else? It's too hot to sit in front of this thing.” He adjusts his glasses, which seem to have slipped down his nose a bit, and leans his head back against the couch to get comfortable.

“So, I've been thinking...” You walk behind the couch, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind, and look down at him as he looks up at you. “You wanna know?” 

He grins at you as you wrap your arms around his neck, “Mhm,” he nods excitedly. “I absolutely wanna know.” He holds your hands that are placed on his chest, squeezing them softly. “Tell me what's on your mind.”

Your eyes can't help but be focused on his moist lips. “Can you give me a kiss first?” You grin as you lean down closer to his face. His smile widens at your request. “Anything for my baby.” He reaches a hand up to your cheek as he leans up to kiss you. 

His lips taste sweet, and it's so soft when it's pressed against yours. He nibbles your bottom lip before pulling away, letting his lips linger longer and his eyes slowly open.

He relaxes his head on the couch's backrest, his eyes looking up at you with its familiar shine. “Now, tell me, what are you thinking about?” His hand doesn't leave your cheeks, caressing your skin gently with his thumb.

The sweet taste of his lips reminds you of what you're supposed to say earlier. “How about we go outside to buy some shaved ice cream?” You suggest. Gojo is probably the biggest sweet tooth you've ever met, and you know that for sure he would never refuse an offer that has anything to do with sweets.

His expression brightens up. “Shaved ice cream?” You nod, “Yes. While we wait for the room to cool up.” Your hand caresses his chest slowly in his hold. “You're up for that?” You ask the obvious.

“Heck, yeah!” He says immediately, jumping up from the couch and grabbing your hand. “I could eat a whole mountain of shaved ice, it's too damn hot today.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

“I will also eat whatever flavor you'll choose for me because I love you. Aren't you lucky?" He playfully stuck his tongue out at you, but there is truth underneath his tone.

He pulls you towards the door with his hand holding tight on yours. “Come on,” he grabs his wallet on the way out before opening the door.

“We're going out like this?” You ask, glancing at our ‘summer-themed’ home clothes. Satoru stops in his tracks, seeming confused that you would ask such a question. “Yeah, why not?”  

“We're just going to get ice cream. No one will care what we're wearing. We'll be back before you know it.” He looks at you with an amused expression, waiting for you to agree. He doesn't seem bothered by the idea of going out in his home clothes.

“Right.” You put on your slippers before walking out with him to the nearest ice cream shop.

“What's wrong?” You ask him as you eat the shaved ice cream. He puts his spoon down and crosses his arms, leaning back on his seat as he stares at his shaved ice and your own.

“Nothing, nothing,” he says quickly. But his tone is a bit off, and his eyes don't meet yours. He looks down at his bowl again, taking a couple of quick, big bites in an attempt to hide whatever is bothering him.

After a long time of knowing him, you know that by his expression, he's not upset. Rather, he's sulking.

“Satoru.” You say his name sternly, demanding him to express his thought which causes a sudden change of mood in him, since he was all excited just for a shaved ice before. He looks the other way when you stare at him like that.

“It's just that...” He trails off, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “I don't want this syrup...” His voice is quiet, almost like a mumble.

“You don't want this one?” You ask to make sure what he really meant. He's pouting over syrup on his shaved ice.

Gojo shakes his head, still looking down at his bowl. “Yeah, that's it,“ he says, his voice gets quieter by the end.

He pauses for a short moment, thinking, then seems to come to a decision. Without looking up at you, he reaches out a hand to take your bowl. “Here, let's trade.” He holds his own out to you, still not looking at you.

“Whoa, whoa,“ you hold onto your bowl, ready to defend what's yours. At this point, both of you are acting like a child all over again. “You're the one who told me to choose the flavor for you.”

He's still sulking, and he's looking at you pleadingly right now. He really knows how to pull out a stunt that could shake your resolve.

“It's not that...” He trails off again. You let out a sigh, reaching your spoon to scoop on his shaved ice to try it, wondering what's the big deal of the different syrup anyway. “It tastes the same...? Well, almost.” You raised a brow at him, wondering what is the actual problem here.

“It does taste the same, but...” he looks down at his shaved ice bowl, almost glaring at it. “I want that color...” He looks at your bowl.

“What?” You ask again, leaning you face closer to him, not quite sure on what he's implying. “It's the color.” He answered quietly.

“The color?” You look at him in disbelief. “So, that's what the problem is? The color?” You repeat yourself, you can't believe what you just heard.

Gojo sighs heavily. “Listen, it doesn't matter that it tastes the same,” his gaze doesn't meet your eyes. “The color matters to me, okay? The flavor is slightly different too. I can feel it.”

He says this with complete honesty as if he thinks this is justification for his being so particular. He's still leaning back on his seat with crossed arms. Still sulking.

Gojo stole a glance up at you, hoping you would give in. “Well... it's like, the color impacts the flavor in a way.”

You were too stunned, you even stopped chewing the shaved ice in your mouth, letting it melt until you cough a bit when you choked on the melted flavored ice.

You really can't understand how exactly his mind works right now.

But you can definitely say one thing. Your man is adorable.

“Okay, okay, have mine.” You switch your bowl with him. “Such a spoiled baby.” You mumble under your breath, which he doesn't seem to care with the way his eyes locked on your bowl of shaved ice like it's a rare treasure, and a wide grin appears on his face as you give him your bowl, immediately digging in after saying, “Thank you for the food,” with no hesitation.

He makes a little sound of appreciation as he takes a bite, then another. He closes his eyes as he chews, enjoying the delicious taste of the shaved ice.

Your eyes are on him as you eat your own in silence, completely baffled by what you just witnessed.

If you don't know better, you would have laughed and smacked anyone on the face when they say that the man who is sitting right in front of you, enjoying his shaved ice cream and sulking over the color of the topping like a child, is the strongest sorcerer alive right now.

But here you are, dating a man-child who enjoys being spoiled and also spoils you like no other.

When he's done, he gives another deep sigh, looking happier than he has all day. “Thank you, darling,” he says with a smile, touching your cheek. “Just what I needed.”

“Ah, yes, of course. A trade of similar flavored shaved ice.” You answer him with a playful eye roll. “You're an angel, you know that?” He ignores your remark as rests his cheek on his hand on the table, staring at you with his usual playful smile while you eat.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You finish the remaining ice that's already melted from the bowl. “No trading over a colored syrup next time.”

“Awww, don't be like that.” He gives you another pout and his index finger poking your cheek repeatedly. “You want more?” Without waiting for you to answer, he stands up and walks towards the counter to order two more shaved ice.

This one's not supposed to be my first fic here, but I can't resist after seeing Gege's summer diaries doodle story 😆

#ೋღ—物語. #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru #gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo scenario #gojo imagine #gojo fanfiction #gojo fic

[sarahscribbles]

I have a Drabble request!

Loki wanting some cuddles from his gf after a rough day. Saying sweet nothings to each other while maybe eating some desserts! Appease the sweet tooth lol

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐦

Loki x f!reader (can be read as Loki x GN!reader)

Loki Masterlist

AN: Sorry it's taken me 50 years to write this for you! I've kept it as close to the request as I could, but couldn't think of a way to weave in the dessert aspect. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! xx

You know something is wrong from the minute the door closes behind him. It's not a slam, but there's enough force behind the action to make your head snap up from the book you're reading.

He stalks off in the direction of the kitchen without so much as a glance in your direction - that alone is enough to tell you that he's rattled. Exceptionally rattled.

Though, he has just spent the day with Tony in his endeavours to try and fuse Midgardian science with Asgardian magic. Even after all the years that have passed and the many times that Loki has proven himself, there's still barely disguised hostility from the rest of the Avengers towards him. It breaks your heart.

You can hear him aimlessly opening and closing cupboards and drawers in the small kitchen. He's not looking for anything, rather, he's embarrassed. Embarrassed to admit that the jibes and jokes get to him, that he's not the invincible being he'd like you to think he is.

You close your book and set it on the coffee table, ready to give him whatever he needs.

"Baby?" you call and he instantly stills. It's not a term of endearment you use often, only when you know he needs comfort that he won't seek out for himself.

"Yes?" Loki answers, a quiet roughness lacing the single word.

"C'mere," you say gently, already arranging yourself on the sofa.

There's a millisecond of nothing, then you hear the soft rustle of his clothing until he's standing facing you at the other side of the table. His face is expressionless, but you've known him long enough to see the flashes of pain sparking across his eyes and the small flex of his fingers - almost as if he's reaching out for you.

You cock your head to the side and open your arms. "Come here," you tell him, spreading your knees apart on the plush cushions.

You catch the brief second of his lip quivering before he wordlessly moves to settle between your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burrowing his head into your neck. You close yourself around him and breathe in his familiar scent.

Home.

"I hope you showed Tony a thing or two today. That man could do with having his ego knocked down a few pegs," your murmur, letting your hand run soothingly along the expanse of his back.

Loki scoffs, his warm breath tickling your neck. "Stark is a pompous ass."

You smile quietly to yourself and press a small kiss into his hair. "He is," you agree, "and he wouldn't have this new Division if it weren't for you. I think he forgets that."

Loki doesn't answer but squeezes your waist in a silent thank you.

You pull him closer and let one hand move to cradle the back of his head. Gentle fingers stroke through his inky curls and you marvel as always at their softness.

"You are extraordinary, my love," you say quietly, continuing to run your hand soothingly along his back. "And Tony will have to recognise that at some point. He won't have a choice."

"You'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath," Loki responds, his voice muffled by how far he's nuzzled himself into your neck.

"Tony will have me to deal with if he doesn't. You know I'm always on your side," you assure him, knowing he needs this more than he'll admit.

There's another heartbeat of silence until you feel Loki's lips press to your skin in a chaste kiss. "I love you," he says simply.

You rest your cheek against his head and he practically purrs with contentment. "I love you. More than you'll ever know."

You keep holding him until his body grows heavy in your arms and his breathing slows down against your neck.

You hold him for as long as he needs you to.

You always will.

Drabble taglist: @cake-writes @the-lady-amphitrite @kinky-faerie @muddyorbsblr @lunarnights95 @fandxmslxt69 @joyful-enchantress @goddessofwonderland @infinitystoner @liminalpebble @ladyofthestayingpower @currish-rosewolfe @loopsisloops @coldnique @fictive-sl0th @mischief2sarawr @simplyholl @mochie85 @littlespaceyelf

#loki #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki imagine

[konigsblog]

short random 141 headcannons, silly/fluff ☄️

ghost 💀;

absolutely hates coffee, avid tea drinker and refuses anything else. a lot of people assume that the cold-hearted killer, simon riley, would hate sugary coffee. but, truth be told, he has a huge sweet tooth that only price knows about, and has to keep him from eating too much.

growing up, he was quiet. a lot of people teased him for being so silent, including his friends, but only in a joking way. he's one of those kids that make friend's easily, just well-behaved in class to avoid stressing out his mother.

acts as if he hates johnny, but after that solo mission soap had, he grew more close to him. didn't like whenever john had to go on a mission without him in fear that he wouldn't return, gradually developed a fear of losing the team - something he'd always had, yet increased further after graves's betrayal.

has a high metabolism. he could eat way over his maintenance calories and not gain anything. he works out in his house during leave, usually eating quick takeaways or frozen meals, rolling his eyes whenever you bring up the state of the apartment. who cares, its not as if he's here most of the time.

soap 🧼;

absolutely loves getting drunk at a club with the team, has to be dragged home by price, him and gaz laughing maniacally at absolutely nothing.

he threw up on ghost afterwards.

because if his flirtatious personality, he's had many girlfriends. they never last long since he doesn't take the relationship's seriousness, still flirting with others as a joke, but offending whoever he's with at the time.

he isn't serious at all, which we've probably gathered from his personality. accidentally laughs at the wrong times, apologise profusely as they snarl at him. definitely gives off the wrong impression and gets embarrassed whenever price mentions it.

johnny knows what he's good at, he doesn't like being insulted by anyone, even as a joke. mention something about him not being as strong as ghost as he's pissed for the rest of the day. somewhat easily jealous, stemmed from when he was a rookie, lean with barely any muscle and constantly teased by others. (heard the last bit from another creator, but i can't remember the user for the life of me.)

gaz 🧢;

doesn't take alcohol very well, especially his hangovers. they're cruel, he has a pounding headache all day and throws up multiple times. laid in bed playing games the entire day, groaning as he feels himself burn up.

is terrified of bugs, absolutely hates spiders. doesn't give a fuck about the spider poem, will scream and crush them with his foot. probably came from when he was a child and got caught in a spiders web, cried to his mum.

definitely has a lot of sisters. they raised him well so he's very respectful in relationships and knows how to treat a lady right. when he was younger, his sister's would beg him to let them use makeup on him, agreeing and getting annoyed when he couldn't wash it off.

definitely youngest child energy.

price 🎣;

when he was a kid, he wanted to be something like a policeman or a firefighter, loves being in charge of stuff.

he's a true gentleman; will hold the door for his wife, giving her a bouquet of flowers whenever he can, kisses her all the time and compliments galore. he's a true fan of cuddling you from behind, sneaking up on you and kissing your neck, complimenting the meal you'd made.

took the 141 fishing, let's just say that it never happened again. it was all peaceful until johnny thought he a turtle, leaning over the lake and falling in. kyle laughed his ass off and simon sighed with disapproval, yet not surprised that he'd managed something like that. price lost a good fish trying to save him from drowning.

loves dogs, not small dogs (chihuahua hater), but big dogs. he loves german shepherds since he works with them, k9s. or a doberman, definitely owned a big dog when he was younger and has baby photos of him on it's back, only laswell saw them.

#cod headcanons #cod mw22 #orla speaks #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 x reader #captain john price #captain price #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #gaz call of duty #gaz cod #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #modern warefare ii

[tw1l1te]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼- 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

These are from the FinalPromise!Au. Some will be directly from the og Linked Universe, as I don't envision my story as straying tooooo far from the original. I might add more in the future, but these are the ones that I am thinking of for now! This is part 1/3, which includes Time, Twilight, and Wild! :3

Warnings: mention of scars

⋆｡°✩

𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊

Mans in his early 30s in terms of appearance (actual age is unclear)

Speaks Hylian well but writing? Not so much. Growing up in Kokiri Forest doesn't really help in terms of school smarts, so he had Wars and Sky teach him a bit later down the line.

Has a slight Southern accent, way less prominent than Twilight's though. It comes out more when he's tired or being more flirty (Or doing it on purpose to fluster Y/n.)

Him and Malon are exes? It was a situationship, they didn't really put a word on it. She was there after his quest to support him and keep a roof over his head. They're more like family/friends now

Very tall. We're talking over 6 foot here, and he will also use that to tower over Y/n. They're into that

Also pretty muscular. He was more lean muscle when he was a teen/young adult, but he's bulked up especially since donning the armor.

Has rib tattoos, similar to the Deity markings on his face.

Only has his lobes pierced, however he wants to experiment with more piercings like Twilight.

Has some scarring on his stomach from the battle at the Water Temple, its faded over the years but its still noticeable if you look hard enough

Doesn't sleep well, so takes over night watch a lot. Twilight has to stop him from not sleeping for over 48-hours as that gets him into dangerous mental space territory.

I wanna say he's one of the first member of the chain to feel something for Y/n. I see a lot of pics placing him last usually, but I feel like he's one of the first, especially having tons of time to think about it at night and being the eldest.

Although he's one of the earliest to reveal his feelings to Y/n, he's still processing and taking it slow in terms of bringing it up to the rest of the group.

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

Time's his great great grandfather?? Some great, he's not quite sure

Twilight's in his early/mid 20's

His hair is a brown-gray mix, the grey becoming more prominent ever since his first time shifting into his Wolf form.

Southern drawl, need I say more

Ears are pierced, has double lobe piercings and an upper cartilage piecing

Pretty tall, close to 6 foot, maybe 5' 11"

Other than the Twili markings on his face, he has a small tattoo of a hoof to commemorate for Epona on his ankle

His markings do extend down his spine and upper arms which make a delicious sight when he's training or above Y/n

Some scarring on his legs and arms from his journey, one longer scar on his right ear from a close call with a Twilight creature once.

Senses are like tripled ever since becoming Wolfie, mr. cowboy can smell things like a mile away.

Similar to Time in terms of build, maybe slightly leaner because of his height

However his voice is the deepest of the group. Mans got the range in octaves and that sexy rasp that he will use to his advantage

Like his ancestor, one of the first to have/admit feelings toward Y/n

However, having a Wolf form also speeds up the feelings of protectiveness obsessiveness... and certain other things.

Has such a sweet tooth.

Loves chocolate so much but ever since Wolfie happened, he can barely eat any 'cause he got that dog in him

Protective of Wild too, other than Y/n, he's probably the only other person that knows what he's been through

𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖉

18-19 years old, his adventure has just recently finished

His hair is longer than in his quest to save the princess, though definitely more choppy and wolf cut-like when not in his ponytail

Definitely more lean muscle in terms of build, and is probably average in height

Has triple pieced lobes and a few cartilage piercings, plans on getting more

Left side of his body is heavily scarred, partially deaf in his left ear. Also tends to lose feeling in his left arm and leg, so he prefers to use his right side

Can actually read and speak Hylian How do you think he read everyone's diaries

As we all know, he's one of the best cooks in Hyrule and can cook almost anything, but his favorite thing to make has got to be meat curry and a simple nut cake.

After you came along and introduced him to your foods??? Oh boy he's never been so excited-

Somehow made your favorite foods better than they already were

Closer with Twilight and Legend

Takes longer to catch feelings for you, as the mere concept of feeling toward another person is still a confusing topic for him since his slumber

One of the last ones to catch feelings for you, partially in denial because his belief of not being good enough for you/being very harsh on himself

Twilight almost immediately catches onto Wild's attraction towards you, Wild's not the best at masking nervousness around you

⋆｡°✩

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe au #linked universe headcanons #final promise au

[shisui-shrine]

god, i LOVE your blog, thank you for writing for shisui 🥹 i’d like to ask shisui and any other characters you want and the moment they fell in love with their girl friend

Thank you for your kind words <3. Just as many other people, I was desperate for more Shisui content, and well, be the change you wanna see I guess.

Shisui X F!Reader

When he fell in love with you

Shisui

When you didn't see him as an Uchiha, a prodigy, Shisui of Teleportation but just as Shisui

Almost everyone only sees him as a shinobi, a protector of Konoha

They see his abilities, what he does for them, but not what he is

So when he realised that he was a person in your life and not a ninja, his heart couldn't help but beat a little faster

He could barely believe his ears, others seeing him as a person was uncommon, unexpected, refreshing

"Do you want dessert?" Y/N asks her friend sitting on the opposite side of the table. "Sounds good. But how'd you know I have a sweet tooth? I never told you after all." "You just give off the vibes, is all" the female answers as she took out her wallet to pay for their shared meal.

"Is that so weird? You look a bit... surprised? Startled? Shocked even?", she chuckles a little, looking at Shisui's widened eyes.

"No, it's just that people usually assume nothing unhealthy has entered my mouth ever since I became Jonin. It's a refreshing change of pace", Shisui grins, taking one of the Dangos the waiter brought during their conversation.

"That's weird. I mean, yeah, sure, shinobi usually have a very healthy diet, but that doesn't mean we only eat vegetables and meat."

"So," Shisui begins, "any plans for the rest of the day?"

Y/N thinks about it for a few seconds and then shakes her head. "No, I honestly just wanted to go home and relax. I have a pretty long mission starting in a few days, so I wanted to enjoy my peace and quiet while it lasts"

"Yeah, I had something like that in mind too. Some hotsprings and then a calm evening with some tea and a good book"

"Makes sense. I hate doing anything before a tiring mission. Waking up sore or tired is not something you want before an A-Rank" Y/N comments, moving around her finger on the edge of her cup.

"Oh, you have something in your face by the way. Right there", she pointed at the corner of her mouth. Shisui grabbed his napkin and and wiped it away. "Wha- That's meat! How long has that been on my face?" "Quite some time, but you looked kinda cute with it so I didn't want to tell".

Y/N giggles at Shisui's face, distorted in disbelief and surprise.

"Thank you for the invitation, Y/N. I really needed this", Shisui looks down at the finished plate of Dango, the whole afternoon replaying in his mind. The fact you knew he liked sweets, how you understood that he needed a break, how you laughed about his messy face and his expression.

Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did his stomach feel so weird? He didn't eat anything bad the past few days. Could it be that...?

"Is everything alright? Your face is so red all of a sudden, not that you're dehydrated or have a fever" his friend say worried, bringing her hand to his forehead, but before she could touch him he stopped her hand by gently holding her wrist.

"No, no, I'm fine. Please don't worry about me." He doesn't want her to find out, not yet. First he needs to make sure she feels the same and choose a better timing.

"You always say that. You always shake my worries off, say that you're fine and move on. But I am worried, I know what it can do to people to bottle everything up and try to deal with it alone. You're not a superior being to us all, you still need help every once in a while. If not from me then at least from Itachi, but I know that you're not talking about it with him either. Shisui please, stop saying you're fine before your soul cracks."

Wow, he did not expect that. That you looked through him this easily, that you looked right past his walls right into his soul. Your expression one of fear and worry.

"Okay, I swear that the next time I have a problem I'll come to you, no matter what it is", he holds up his hand with his pinky outstretched.

Y/N follows the action and with that their promise is official.

"Thank you, Shisui. I care a lot about you and it'd kill me to know that you're suffering in silence."

Shisui's heart does a little jump. Perhaps she loves me too? Was the only thing his brain could think about. He was good at reading you, but then, how good were you at hiding feelings?

After that they say their goodbyes and head to their homes. The whole way home multiple thoughts were swirling through Shisui's head.

But all he knows is that he loves you, but telling you can still wait.

#shisui uchiha #shisui x reader #shisui headcanons #naruto x reader #naruto #naruto headcanons #while writing this i rewatched shisui's episode and then got to his death #that's why yn was yapping so much #plus as someone who also bottles up her feelings it got kinda personal