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#can you IMAGINE him rolling up being all concerned
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Imagine proposing to Shanks
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At a bar
You: [brooding over a drink by yourself]
Benn: [comes over and sits next to you, like a concerned papa bear] You've seemed really down lately, what's going on up there in that head of yours?
You: Shanks and I have been together for years, and ... I don't quite know what I was expecting, but I am not happy at the idea of being only his dating partner forever.
Benn: Is this because of the wedding we saw yesterday, down at the Chapple?
You: Sort of, now I know that I'm never going to get a traditional wedding like that, but I would like for him to wife me up.
Benn: You should tell him that because he's never going to come to that conclusion on his own.
You: I know, but I can already picture what his proposal would be like, improvised, sloppy, and probably involving alcohol.
Benn: [mutters to himself] Well, at least you know what you're getting into with him before you marry him.
You: what was that?
Benn: nothing. Can I offer you a piece of advice?
You: [nods]
Benn: Don't wait around for others to do something for you when you could do it a million times better yourself.
You: hmm, thank you for the food for thought.
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Two weeks later
Shanks: [tugging on the white collar of his button-up like it's choking him,] Why the hell are they making such a big fuss? Insisting I dress up, just to go on a picnic.
Benn: [straightening his captain's tie] Because they love your dumb ass, for some fucking reason, and they went through the trouble of planning a special night for you two. So you're going to dress up, look nice, stay sober, try to behave, do whatever they say,
Shanks: [mutters] I already do whatever they say
Benn: [gives him the side eye as a warning] And you're going to bring them flowers and this cake.
Shanks: yeah, yeah, it's just it's been ages since we've had time to do something special, we're out of the honeymoon phase, you know? We're like an old married couple, we only have sex once a week and everything.
Benn: Oh, I know, we can hear you two in the crew's quarters, we appreciate that it's the same day every week too. [puts the flowers and box of cake in Shanks's hands] Now get going, if you're late I'll kill you myself.
Shanks: Alright, don't shove.
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At the docks
You: wow, you made it on time.
Shanks: I wouldn't be late for our first date in over a year.
You: [winces at the reminder]
Shanks: [realizes he's made things awkward, he holds out his gifts] Uh, these are for you.
You: [can see Benn's meddling] Thank you, but we're actually going to have to wait for the boat to get here. I took your habit of arriving late into account when I made the plans, and the time I told you to come was forty-five minutes before you actually needed to be here.
Shanks: [puts his arm over your shoulder and presses a kiss to your head] You know me so well, and no worries if we have to wait, just means that I get more time with you, my love.
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On the boat
Shanks: [looks around the glass bottom boat in amazement] Whoa! Look look! There's a tiger shark.
You: I knew you'd like it, we have it all to ourselves tonight. We'll sail around the reefs, and have dinner.
Shanks: we get to eat.
You: yes, they have your favorite, you can even pick out which lobster you'd like to eat.
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After dinner
the boat captain: excuse me, we've landed on Firefly Island, you'll have two hours before we raise anchor and head back to the port.
You: thank you, [turns to Shanks, grabs his hand, and leads him to the heart of the island where all the fireflies are]
Shanks: [visibly resisting the urge to run around and chase them]
You: [rolls your eyes playfully] Go ahead, I know you wanna run, go get your energy out. Why don't you run around the edge of the clearing and herd them this way? [sits on a stone bench beside the pond in the center of the meadow]
Shanks: [kisses your cheek] aye aye
You: [waits until he's tuckered himself out, and has collapsed on the bench next to you] Sweetheart, are you having fun?
Shanks: the most fun I have had in a while, look at this jar of fireflies I caught. [holds up a large mason jar, packed with the luminescent insects] I know if I leave them in there too long, they'll die, but I wanted you to get to open it.
You: [gets down on one knee, positions the ring box on the side of the jar and unscrews the lid to let critters free]
Shanks: Isn't it pretty? [looks down at the jar to see the box on the other side of the jar] What'cha got there?
You: [sets the jar aside and opens the box to reveal the ring inside]
Shanks: [freezes]
You: ... I know I'm not going to get a fancy wedding in a place of worship or even a marriage certificate, but I would still like you to marry me. For us to be marriage partners, even if it's only in name.
Shanks: wh-... how ... [pulls out the ring and slides it onto his finger] it fits and everything.
You: [waiting for an answer]
Shanks: [notices your staring] what?
You: will you marry me?
Shanks: [pulls you into his lap, and kisses you] Of course I'll marry you, and no you're probably not going to get a fancy wedding, and you're definitely not going to get a marriage certificate. But I promise you, you'll get one hell of a wedding.
You: Thank you, love. [peers over to see Benn sopping wet in the bushes, taking pictures with a camera snail] Benn, what are you doing?
Benn: getting engagement photos, obviously.
Shanks: how did you get here?
Benn: I swam, now you two stop moving, so I can take a picture before these fireflies can eat the camera.
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redactedgoose · 9 months
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Clark is aware that spying on others is more Batman's thing.
However... it's his little niece and nephew, okay? Just because they live in Illinois now (and aren't his blood relatives) doesn't mean anything. The Walker family's always been close with the Kents, even if only Grandma Walker still even lives in Smallville. So, just like he always keeps an ear out for Ma and Pa, he keeps an ear out for Alicia, Maddie, her husband Jack, and his cute niece and nephew's heartbeats.
It's easy enough and a pretty good indicator of their well-being, even beyond the obvious.
Clark really can't be held accountable for the chair that punched through the wall of the Watchtower's meeting room when he shot up out of it. He figures that he's being quite restrained, actually, since his nephew's heart literally just stopped beating.
In the time that it takes to pacify the rest of the assembled League members, though, Danny's heart starts beating again.
But it's different. Slower. Dangerously so.
He needs to get to Amity Park right now.
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satoruxx · 1 month
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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?
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toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.
normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.
but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.
toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.
his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.
toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”
“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.
“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.
“it’s not my fault!”
“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”
you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”
“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”
“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.
“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”
another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?” he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”
he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.
“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.
“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.
“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”
“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.
“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”
you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”
his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”
he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.
“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”
you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.
“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.
“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.
“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.
you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”
“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.
“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”
toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”
“yeah but—”
“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”
his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.
“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”
you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.
“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.
“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.
“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.
“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.
but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.
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sweets4dolls · 3 months
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Hiii can I request a bunny reader x Alastor and she’s new to the hotel a sweet and innocent new thing and alastor can’t help but take a liking to her and he befriends her and he convinces her to do the deed with him during his heat and he just goes at it I’m talking legs wobbling, squirting, breeding, her crying from overstimulation, him pressing her to the wall and taking it from behind and they go for it all night until his heat is finished and some sweet aftercare from alastor :3
𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓇𝓊𝓉
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pairing: alastor + fem!bunny!reader
content warnings: smut, breeding, coercion, little bit of blood, dubious consent, not proofreadddd
notes: u guys I'm getting lazy I can't come up w titles ;( also I might do a pt 2 for the aftercare
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as a knock raps against your door, you roll out of your bed, rubbing sleep from your eyes that blinked rapidly in an effort to adjust to the change in lighting in the room once you had flipped the switch on the wall.
you open the door with fluffy ears nearly falling over your eyes, the hinges squeaking slightly in the silent night as you peak from behind it, your head popping out as your sleepy eyes met Alastor's.
"alastor, what are you doing up so late?" you say, yawning into your fist, your short silky nightgown rubbing against your skin as you move your bare arm, shifting the fabric so your hand can reach your lips to cover your open mouth.
"bunny," he murmurs with eyes glazed over as he pushes your softness back in the room, forcing you to take a few steps back to accommodate his forward movements, not seeming to make any progress in spreading the distance between you too as your back soon hits the wall and he looms over you, caging you in.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you at this hour, but I need your help with something," he says, smile seeming unnaturally strained as he runs a hand over your bare shoulder, the tips of claws lightly scratching at your delicate skin.
naively, your little head flits back to Charlie's little games that you would play, remembering all of her lessons about helping out friends. "of course, anything you need," you whisper, looking at him worriedly, noticing his ears twitch and his movements that seemed to be restrained, "what's wrong?"
he lets out a contained laugh, eyes already wandering over your figure in the room's dim lighting, imagining what it would be like to slice the fabric off.
"well, darling I seem to be.... hurting," he says, his gaze not meeting yours as he looks down your nightgown, drinking in all of the flesh that was available to the eye.
"what, where?" you say, foolishly being concerned for him as he took your hand, dragging it down his chest, finally allowing it to rest on his bulge, barely being able to hold back from thrusting into your hands.
your eyes widen, a rosy hue spreading over your now nervous expression as you start to pull your hand back until he tightened his grip, not letting you.
looking at you like a depraved animal, he chuckles "don't run away from me, you said you'd help, you don't intend on going back on your word now, do you?" he nearly growls out, sending a shiver down your spine into your cotton tail.
hesitantly, you shake your head no, truly wanting to help him out, "n-no, i just- don't really do things like this often" you squeak, making him press against you, furthering your hand against his clothed cock.
"darling, don't you see I'm hurting?" he says, leaning in, smelling the pheromones that reeked from your soft flesh. "won't you help me?"
hesitantly, you nod, giving him all he needs as he starts to attack your neck, practically kissing and licking your skin raw with the amount of force he puts into it as he picks you up and carries you to the bed.
in seconds, your nightgown was ripped to shreds in a pool off to the side of the bed as alastor holds you down, mouth on your sensitive bud, suckling on it as fingers worked your tight little cunt to a looser state so you could take his cock better.
his fingers curl nicely inside of you, making your body squirm about on the bed, whines and begs fall from your lips as you work your way up to an orgasm until alastor pulls back, holding your hips down with one hand as he rids himself of his clothing, smearing the fat tip against your soaked slit.
"don't worry bunny, all you have to do is take me," he says like its reassurance as he presses your thighs up and over his shoulder as he pushes his way in quickly, not in the proper state for soft loving, and instead more than hellbent on breeding you your pretty bunny pussy.
you whimper as he grips your bunny ears, tangling them with locks of your hair and tugging on them just a little as his hips snap against yours roughly, trying to press deeper in your cunt with every thrust.
"you know, I wonder if its true about what they say about bunnies, that they're always multiplying?" he says with a grin as he lightly bites down on your neck, drawing little dribbles of blood from the puncture wounds that he eagerly licks up.
but you're too far gone to form a coherent sentence in reply, instead just babyish babbling falling from your lips as his hips slam into yours with bruising force.
"that's it, be a good little bunny and let me fill you up with a couple kids, hm? make your pretty tummy all big and full?" he says, words broken between his groans and him going down on your neck, now parts of it stained and smeared with blood.
rubbing vicious circles on your clit, he makes you cum all over his fingers and cock as he keeps going with his words, "gonna knock you up, keep you with me forever to be a good little momma," he rasps out.
"a-alastor," you cry, stray tears falling from your face as he continues to pump into your pussy.
he lets out a primal groan before spilling deep into your cunt, waiting a few seconds before pulling out, shoving any cum that escaped back into your morbidly sensitive hole.
it wasn't before long fingers shoving cum back into you turned to fucking back into you, making your eyes go wide as you whimper out, "'w-wait," you cry, trying to sit up before he pushes you back down.
"what, you thought you were done?" he chuckles "oh, baby bunny, I'm going to fuck you within an inch of your little life."
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brailsthesmolgurl · 1 month
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"Where's Mummy?"
A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!
Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation
Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)
RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL
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"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"
His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.
You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.
Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.
Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"
"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."
The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.
Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.
So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.
"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"
"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"
"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again
Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.
...
When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.
"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."
"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"
"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.
"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.
Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.
"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."
That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.
"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.
"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."
˚ · • . ° .
ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS
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"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."
Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.
"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.
Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.
Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.
"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"
"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.
Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.
Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.
"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.
Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.
"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.
"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.
Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"
"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.
...
Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.
Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.
"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."
"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.
"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.
The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.
The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"
"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."
"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.
"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.
"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.
You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too
˚ · • . ° .
XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON
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"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"
"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"
"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"
"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.
But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.
You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"
Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."
Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.
Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.
"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.
"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls
...
"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.
"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"
"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.
Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?
The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.
"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.
The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.
"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.
The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.
"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.
"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."
"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.
"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.
But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.
"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."
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Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!
But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3
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cupcakeinat0r · 3 months
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Thinkin abt Dad bod! Miguel again…
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Relationship weight gain is kinda inevitable when both parties are in absolute love with each other, and Miguel, despite being a total specimen, is no exception to this.
By now, you and Miguel have been dating for quite a bit, and you noticed Miguel getting a lil chunky. Not something you protested. At all. In fact, you were living for it. Yea, Miguel was gorgeous with those rock hard abs and that slutty waist of his that you were beginning to envy, but once his dad bod came in… dayum.
Miguel, however, did feel slightly embarrassed about it all, even though you reminded him everyday that he’s literally the most gorgeous man. Ever. It wasn’t about him, though. He was more concerned about you; that you wouldn’t see him the same way anymore, but you didn’t mind reassuring him a million times that he is all you want and ever need. Plus, it’s a dad bod, literally the best bod, like, c’mon now.
You’d watch him walk around the house with sweatpants on and no shirt, perky pecs (you could’ve sworn he had more titty than you, Jesus Christ), chest hair, pumped arms, fluffy abdomen and a tiny peek of a happy trail that could make your womanhood quiver. All that on full display for you and only you to ogle at. God, he was gorgeous. You, lying in bed, would bite your lip at the piece of work in front of you. Miguel was hunched over on his computer, which he dwarfed with his hands and build, reviewing some lab reports. Your eyes traced along his muscles, some of his stretch marks, and the one or two rolls he had on his side. How can a man look so delicious even while working?
“Whatcha looking at, mama?” He doesn’t look up.
“Oh, nothing… just the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen.”
He finally looks up from the computer and smiles at you.
“That’s all you, mamita.”
You smile back. You still get butterflies with this man. You reach your arms out.
“C’mere, come to bed. I need my teddy bear.”
He chuckles. “ya mismo, beba, I only have one more left. I’ll be right there.”
You drop your hands in defeat. He says only one more, but you knew it would take him at least like 30 minutes to look over those things. He likes to be real thorough with them. You loved that your man had brains, but sometimes you wish he would just relax once in a while.
An idea flickered in your mind.
“Baby…”
“Yea, mama?” He mumbles, eyes concentrated on his screen.
“…how many kids would you want?”
He immediately perks up. Oh, now you’ve got his undivided attention.
“Kids?” He says, almost a little too excited, “What made you think about that?”
“Ohhh, I dunno… it’s just that you’ve got this dad look goin’ and… it’s been making think, y’know?”
“‘Dad look’?” He says with a humored smile.
“Well yea… I really like it. You’re lookin husky and thick, it’s so… sexy.”
The computer has been officially closed. Your plan is working.
“Oh yea?” His voice becomes lower, more sensual, as he climbs onto bed, his gaze becoming hungry. Miguel towers over you until he settles down on the comforter, nestled up right next to you, his thick thigh draped over both of yours. He rests his burly arm over your stomach, pulling you even closer to his warm body. Now that he lays next to you on the bed, you feel way smaller against him. You loved that.
“Mhm… it’s hard to not picture you with our future kids when you’re walking around here lookin’ like that. I’d make you such a cute daddy.” You coo, your hands brushing against his chest, playing with the hair there, occasionally caressing down to his soft mid-section. “Aw, baby… and I’d make you such a beautiful mommy,” Miguel groans into your neck, placing a kiss there, his hand goes up under his t shirt you’re wearing, caressing circles on your stomach as he imagines a bump there, “fuck, just thinking about you being pregnant makes me hot.“ His hand moves up to grab one of your breasts, giving it a light squeeze, his index finger giving your bud some attention, “and these filled with milk? coño, no puedo esperar.” He moans, his voice strained.
“So how many you want, daddy? Name a number and I’ll give em’ to you.”
Miguel just looks at you dumbfounded. He doesn’t know whether to get emotional or just pin you to the bed and fill you up with his kid to get a head start on this family. He thinks he’ll choose the latter.
“Mamita, I want however many you can give me.” he grabs you by the chin and smashes his lips against yours in a tongue-eating kiss. “Mmgonna look so pretty all swollen for me.” He then placed himself in between your legs, completely caging you in his broad shoulders and arms, his belly brushing up against your stomach. It’s not the only thing you feel, as you also feel his thick hard on when his hips start grinding against your weeping cunt.
“Mi princesita wants to make me a daddy, huh?” He says in a mocking voice. You nod, making a timid noise, aroused by his dominance. You look down to see a wet spot on his sweatpants, his precum seeping through from your little daddy talk no doubt. His mouth sucks and nips at the delicate skin on your neck, your shirt being hastily raised, your now wet panties shortly following the shirt. You’re in for it now. A victorious smirk growing on your face knowing that that last report would be saved for another day.
“Baby, What about your report?”
“It can wait.”
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Spoiler alert: He rails you like a dog in heat, cream pies you multiple times, and makes sure none of it goes to waste!!! <3333 u got what u wanted!!! Yay!!!
He is very gorjus to me, ur honor!!! <33333
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!!
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peaktora · 3 months
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𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo
𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ instead of sleeping, satoru and your daughter argue over what to name her stuffed dragon.
𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊1.9k words. established relationship (#married). the toddler dialogue is purposefully not structured correctly since it’s words from a toddler. fem!reader. intended lowercase. warning: you will wish you had a kid with gojo after reading this.
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊this was gonna be a basic thought post, but i got more and more interested in the concept and was like “y’know what? fuck it, ima just make this into a full fic.” so here we are with a more full look at dad!gojo <3.
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satoru mumbles, "but i think he likes being called spike,” and it's obvious that he's sulking. you don't even have to look up from your book to confirm it.
“well, you don't know him like i do!” your daughter replies, tucking herself into your side.
you flip through the picture book's pages fast, just getting brief glances of its colorful illustrations. unicorns, dragons, knights, and princesses decorated the pages. after turning the last page, you sigh and put the book down on the nightstand. despite the fact that the book was designed for toddlers, it actually looked interesting. you just know you would love to read it to your toddler. you can imagine yourself reading it to her, seeing the excitement on her face as she explores the world of fantasy—her absolute favorite genre.
but unfortunately, that image in your head will have to wait for another day, because her attention? is completely taken by the debate between her and her father.
how the argument started is beyond you. just ten minutes ago, you and satoru were snuggled up on your daughter’s bed, trying to read her to sleep. and now? satoru and her are in a heated debate over what to name her stuffed dragon. it's tough not to be amazed at how something so easy can become so complicated with him.
"i bought him, drove him around in my car, and wrapped him up in a cute little box for you. i think we know each other pretty well.” satoru smiles and reaches across the bed for the dragon.
“nuh-uh! he not even like you!” your toddler, with her tiny hands and puffed cheeks, clutches her stuffed dragon tightly against her chest. the plushie, its vibrant green scales and friendly eyes, seemed to come alive in her hold.
he retreats back to his seat on the edge of your daughter's bed, his lips curled into a frown as he asks, "how come?"
her mouth opens, then closes again. you look away for a moment to give satoru a look of disapproval, and by the time you return your attention to her, her brows are already starting to furrow. she mumbles under her breath, "because," running her small fingers around the plush dragon’s ear. she looks to be at a loss for words, as if she hasn't come up with an answer to satoru's question.
but that's okay, since you—happily, do.
"because you’re taking his time away from storytime. and satoru, in case you didn't know? when it's time to go to bed, we have storytime.”
your daughter looks up, her face beaming as she screams, "yup! and mommy picks the super-duper bestest stories ever!"
satoru gasps, his eyes never leaving yours as he rises from his bed and holds his chest. "baby, who's side are you on?"
you roll your eyes, "i'm just sa—"
"oh, sweetheart," he mumbles as he rushes around the corner of the bed, his movements quick to reach your side. without wasting a second, he rests a palm on your forehead, checking your temperature with a clear look of false concern. concerned people don’t have to hold back the urge to smile. actually, they don't have a smile at all—but for some reason, satoru does, and he's terrible at hiding it. "are you sick? having some hallucinations? is that why you've decided to side with enemy?”
your daughter giggles, and it only feeds satoru's act.
he turns his head towards the source of the giggles. a playful pout forms on his lips as he teasingly asks, "or did this little munchkin of ours use her princess magic to change your mind? she has a way of doing that to me sometimes, y’know."
his free hand reaches towards your toddler, fingers wiggling in anticipation. as his fingers make contact with your little one's soft, ticklish skin, even more giggles slip past her lips.
she tries to squirm away from his touch, but that's when he adds another hand to the tickle fest, and all chance of escape is gone. at that point, she visibly gives up, curling into herself to try to halt her dad’s tickling.
“i-i don’t have powers, daddy!” you daughter manages to stifle out through her laughs. you smile at the sound—it’s one you'll never get tired of hearing.
"you can't be a princess without powers! every princess has powers!"
“i-i'm n-not a princess though!“
satoru's fingers pause in their spot, his eyes widening in disbelief. "not a princess? how on earth can that even be?"
you’re sure if she needed him to, he could easily write an entire book about how she’s a princess.
he scoops her up from her place next to you, careful not to let her dangling legs hit you in the process. she lands on his hip, her eyes fixated on him as he lovingly whispers, "you're daddy's little princess!" he pauses, then adds, "and mommy is the queen, so that makes me—"
“the king?”
“you’re just so smart, huh? see, a perfect quality of a princess.”
“but princesses have dragons! big ones with so many pretty colors and names! they go—“ she cuts herself off and raises her tiny arms high. with a wide smile on her face, she takes a deep breath and lets out a loud roar.
satoru nods and smiles warmly at her, "oh, i see...well, y’know what? not all princesses have dragons.”
she tilts her head, and you awe at the sight. “they don’t?”
"nope," he says, taking her tiny hand in his, wrapping it securely around his finger. he lightly massages the back of her hand, and it’s soothing—scratch that, reassuring. you can tell from the way your daughter leans her head on his shoulder, tucking herself in the crook of his neck. "you don't need a dragon to be a princess. you're my princess ‘cause you're kind, smart, and full of love. i'd say that's all you need to be one."
"really?" she asks, waiting for his nod before continuing. "okay…but i still want a dragon."
"i get it, munchkin," he hums as he takes the dragon plushie from the bed. "we still haven't figured out a name for this guy, hm?"
“nuh-uh!”
“he looks like his power is being super cuddly. he's so cuddly that he puts you right to sleep…how ‘bout…fluffy?"
“ew.”
“fluffy sounds cute, no?”
"but dragons aren't cute. daddy, they breathe fire."
"wel—" satoru begins, but your daughter interrupts.
“his name should be fireball!”
“satoru, she does have a point,” you assert.
she really did. it was a dragon, not something adorable, but something that’s usually thought of as a villain—or a protector. athough deep down, a part of you just wanted this little debate to finally wrap up so you could finally catch some much-needed sleep.
“i thought i took away all of her princess magic?” satoru frowns, "stop siding with the enemy!"
you can't help but snort at his comment. mostly because, for whatever reason, he’s taking this dispute very seriously. so seriously that he doesn't seem to notice you're trying to do anything to finally get to bedtime. "baby i was just sa—"
"who says this dragon had to breathe fire anyways?" he interrupts.
when your toddler goes to respond, it hits you. "what about fluffy fireball?" you mention. it's a perfect combination of the two. well, okay, maybe not a “perfect” combination, but it's good enough to finish this debate.
if you weren't so tired, you’d stop and ogle the way they ask "huh?" in sync.
you shrug, "well, why not? he is pretty fluffy and spits out fire. there can’t be a better name than that."
your daughter holds out the dragon, looks at it for a while, then brings it up to her ear.
she gives the impression that he’s nodding his head before hushedly saying, "got it." she then turns back to face you and yells confidently, "fluffy fireball agrees!”
"well, i don't agree," satoru huffs. "the name is way too long an—"
“satoru.”
“but—“
"satoru," you say more firmly, and his shoulders sink as he mumbles "okay" beneath his breath.
your daughter lets out a yawn, and your eyes are immediately drawn to her. you signal for satoru to come over to the bed, and he does, bending down to your level.
“is my girl sleepy?”
"um," she pauses and looks at her dragon. "just a little bit."
"i can tell," you say, gently rubbing her back. you sneak a quick glance at your husband, and he looks the other way because he knows it's way past her bedtime. you sit up next to her ear and murmur, "i think fluffy fireball is ready to go to sleepy-time."
she gives the dinosaur a look before asking him, "y’wanna sleep with me?” then, she shakes the dinosaur's head up and down before exclaiming, "okay!"
you watch as she leaps out of satoru’s arms, and plops down on the bed. the room fills with giggles and the creaking of the bed as she scampers towards the middle. once she's next to you, she settles in and gets comfortable.
you can't help but smile as you see her tiny hands reaching out, playfully fluffing the pillows around her. then finally, with a satisfied sigh, she snuggles under the covers, cocooning herself in warmth.
she sets her dragon on her left side, making sure her loyal companion is there to do his job and look after her (the princess). it’s cute really. however, if that dragon becomes even a little bit too comfortable with the job, you know satoru will undoubtedly compete for the position. he'd say, "it can't just show up one day and take my job," or something along those lines. knowing him, he might even contemplate throwing it away—who knows.
you’re jolted out of your trance when your daughter asserts to her dinosaur, "you can sleep on daddies side, he snores."
satoru gasps, “i do not—“
“yes you do!”
“when have i eve—“
"guys," you sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your voice. you cast a glance at both of them, making sure you have their undivided attention before pressing on. "c'mon, let's all take a breather and save the debate about your dad's snoring for tomorrow, okay?"
"but mommy, tell him he snores!" she whines. "he goes—" she cuts herself off to mimic satoru's snoring, and his face is priceless.
"now that’s just rude. how can you speak to me so coldly?” satoru scurries underneath the covers on the side of the dragon. and just like that, your daughter and her dragon are nestled between the two of you.
“this’ll be settled in a family meeting tomorrow. you two have already had one debate today. so right now? lets all go to bed.” you declare, then nestle deeper beneath the covers, closing your eyes.
as the voices of saddened "okays" and "alrights" blend together, a collective sigh fills the room. the sound of a click follows, and even with your eyes closed, the absence of light is unmistakable. it makes you feel even more exhausted than before.
you feel satoru’s arm slide around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. meanwhile, your daughter stirs slightly, searching for a more comfortable position in the cozy space between the two of you. you can feel her movements, her small body nestled snugly against yours.
you snuggle impossibly closer to your pillow, and take a deep breath.
silence, that’s what follows—and it’s nothing but peaceful. that is, until satoru bursts out laughing. "i don't snore," he blurts out into the darkness, his voice filled with mischief. "i just provide a little background music for the night."
it's at this point that you decide to be extremely biased at the family meeting tomorrow. he’s not winning a damn thing.
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catboyieejeno · 4 months
Text
sitting pretty : jaemin ꒰୨୧꒱
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cw: jaemin x inexperienced (?) reader, pwp, established relationship, fem! reader, jaemin has a teeny bit of a corruption kink, explicit smut, size kink, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, so many pet names, jaemin being so sweet wc: 2.6k
18+ minors do not interact!
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you’re sitting at the foot of the bed in only the littlest shirt, snugly fit on your breasts, and a pair of soft, pink cotton panties. your feet are tucked under your bum and you’re slightly bouncing in anticipation. you’re being so good, despite the burning need that blossoms between your legs, and you know being good gets you rewarded. you haven’t checked, but from the way the material sticks to your center, it’s safe to assume you’ve pooled your underwear with your arousal. 
jaemin, seemingly unphased, lies on his side facing you, head propped up straight on his hand so he can gawk at the way your nipples poke through your shirt. his eyes take in every bit of your skin, as they do every single time you’re on display for him, before his lips part slightly. 
“you’re so stunning,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to his mouth so that he can press a kiss to your knuckles. a slight pout forms on your lips and your shoulders slouch slightly. this doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who blinks up at you in concern. “what’s wrong, doll?” 
“why—” your eyes dart around as red spreads across your cheeks, “why won’t you… fuck me,” 
“huh?”
“i mean…” you sigh, “if i’m so stunning, why don’t you ever fuck me…is it because you don’t want to?” 
“oh, baby,” he coos, leaning up to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “you have no idea how bad i want to. i was just getting you ready for me,” he gives you a soft kiss, which you return effortlessly, “don’t wanna hurt my pretty baby,”
“i can take it!” you assure him eagerly, sitting up straighter, “i want to take it, wanna make you feel good,” 
he tuts as his dick jolts in his pants, your words riling him up more than you could begin to imagine; he doesn’t show it in his voice, though, which remains steady as he nods, “alright. let’s work up to it then, yeah?”
despite having made you come on his tongue and fingers a number of times before, he’s been adamant about not fucking you just yet. he’s been patient, caring, and gentle, in the bedroom and out of it, tending to your needs just how he knows you like it. truthfully, there’s nothing he wants more than to sink himself into the heaven that is your pussy, but he’s known from the first time he felt the grip of your walls around his fingers that his length simply would not fit in such a tight, little space. 
he’s since had to resort to a form of size-training, something he didn't think he would enjoy nearly as much as he does. he takes great pleasure in the process of prepping you, though, sometimes even coming in his pants just from the sight of you all dazed and high off your fourth orgasm. 
jaemin’s eyelids suddenly get oh so heavy, large hands trailing up your smooth thighs and finding solace on your hips when you crawl onto and settle down in his lap. your panties are pressed against your core, marking every curve of your folds. even if jaemin hadn’t seen your pretty pussy countless times before, he’s sure he could make out every detail just from the outline alone. 
there’s a light blush on your cheeks when you wrap your entire hand around his index finger, drawing the digit up to your mouth to suck on it. a lazy smile falls on jaemin’s lips as he watches you—decidedly, if his little angel wasn’t so soft and fragile, he would’ve spun the two of you around and fucked you into the mattress from this action alone. 
his focus is unfaltering as little mewls start leaving your puckered lips. your hips swivel, giving an experimental roll against his bulge, and you shudder at the feeling. 
he watches eagerly as the material brushes against your cunt. when you repeat the action, it’s with a certain precision, and then you do it again, and again. at first, he thinks you’ve found the angle or spot that best stimulates your clit, but then, his eyes leave the area where your bodies meet and he notices in your curious expression that you are in reality, watching him. you’re trying to tease him, get him off… and god, is it working. 
“jaemin…,” 
“i know, sweetheart. let me help you,” he scoots you down his thighs just enough to pull his length free from his boxers, “we’re gonna try something first, to get you all nice and wet for me,” 
“but i am wet for you,” 
“patience, baby. i promise you’re gonna like this. said you wanted to make me feel good, right?” you nod, “so, give me your hand,” your obedience earns you a low hum of approval, and he molds your palm over the head of his dick. then, he gently moves aside your panties with his free hand to reveal your glistening folds. he brushes his thumb against it to collect some of the slick, all the while guiding your hand up and down his length. through tightened teeth, he instructs you, “I want you to match my pace, okay?”  
“mhm,” 
he releases your hand to hold your hip once more as his thumb begins slow, dragging circles on your clit. Instantly, he sees you shiver at his actions, and you pump his head slowly to fulfill his earlier request.
he takes care to spread your folds, listening intently for the sticky sound of your wetness squelching against his digit.
you do just as he asks, pumping quicker when his thumb speeds up, and slowing down as best as you can when he does the same. It’s torturous, the constant change in pace—the push and pull that brings you close to coming, then drags you away. 
“such a good girl,” he praises, noticing your incessant pants. you’re writhing on his lap, grinding yourself into his hand in hopes of reaching your release. when he doesn’t make a move to go any faster, you take matters into your own hand, jacking him off. jaemin gasps, placing his hand over yours. 
“those weren’t the rules, baby,” 
“I don’t care,” you whine breathlessly, “just want your cum,” 
he scoffs, peeling your hand off. his thumb continues to work you as he seethes, “you want my cum? think you can take it? then sit on it.” 
“what?” 
“you heard me. want my dick that bad? sit on it, angel.”  
you consider his offer for a moment, then sigh out at the virtue of the pleasure he’s giving your bud right now. you need to come so bad, you have been so good—he’s teased you for so many days in a row and you haven’t complained once until now. despite the nerves bubbling in your stomach, you decide the prize of feeling him fill you up is much too tempting to pass up. If you could take three of his fingers, surely, you could take him, too. 
with unsteady legs, you lift yourself up a bit, aligning yourself with his dick. the size of his length is much more intimidating all of a sudden, now that you know you’re moments away from sinking down on him. by the looks of it, it could easily reach your belly button. he notices your hesitation, but you bite back your concerns and gulp, refusing to cower now—jaemin would just torture you all over again. you’d never hear the end of it, taunts about how he knows what was best for you and how you should always listen to him. you had to do this, you wanted to. 
you let out a shaky sigh slip past your lips as his tip pushes past your narrow entrance, squeezing your eyes shut at the burning stretch. your mouth forms an ‘o’, but no noise comes out. inch by inch, you sink lower, jaemin’s eyes trained fiercely on you to watch how far your stubborn tantrum will take you. 
“how’s it feel, sweet girl?” 
“good,” you reply through your teeth, even though in reality, it doesn’t feel good at all. It hurts, bad, and you keep your eyes shut so your boyfriend doesn’t see the way tears are welling up in them. but jaemin knows you too well, he notices your tenseness, your body rigid as you struggle to fit all of him. the hand rubbing your waist invites you to relax, but when your ass finally meets his thighs, his dick is so deep within you that it pushes against your cervix. you let out a shaky sob and his features soften. 
“oh, angel.” he mumbles, sitting up gently. his hands fly up to hold your face, “look at me,” 
“so—so big,” you hiccup. 
“i know. i told you so, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay. d’you wanna stop?” 
you quickly shake your head, gripping his shoulders, “no. i want you.” 
“okay, okay,” he nods, “let me help you.” he practically cradles your shaking form and flips the two of you around slowly without pulling out, laying you on your back against the fluffed pillows of your bed. 
“thought you wanted me to ride you,” you whimper, and he shushes you gently. 
“i knew you wouldn’t be able to. just wanted to see how far you’d actually go, but i don’t want you to get hurt anymore, so we’re going to try it like this. if you need me to stop, you tell me and i will, okay?” 
you nod clearly, and he sits back on his heels, keeping only his tip tucked within your walls. softly, he pushes in a bit, then draws back out, groaning at the feeling. when your face softens, he tries it again, until there’s no trace of discomfort on your features. this goes on for a bit, you taking two or three inches of him at most, until he pushes a bit further and you moan out. 
“there we go. that wasn’t so bad, right?” 
“feels so good now.” 
with a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he pushes in again, though he doesn’t bottom out just yet. your pussy flutters around him and your muscles finally fully relax. then, and only then, when your features have become blissful, does he make a move to pick up speed. 
you sigh out, gripping his arms “oh, my god,”
you’re so wet that his dick is glistening every time he pulls out, cunt gushing and squelching around him. he thrusts in deeper still, until finally, his balls hit your ass. 
“you’re all the way in?” 
“stuffing you full, baby.” he confirms.
“it feels so much better than when—” a moan interrupts you when he readjusts, “—than when i tried it,” 
“i know. you wanna sit like this for a bit or do you—” 
“no! I mean… move, please. i want you to move. It feels really good now, jaem, please fuck me,”  
your sweet words make his balls tighten, and he happily obliges, staring to buck into you at his leisure. 
this time, your whines are ones of certain pleasure, and you can’t help but wiggle your hips slightly to meet his thrusts. jaemin isn’t doing anything to hold back his sounds either, and every deep grunt and groan is going straight to your soaked core. there isn’t an ounce of pain left, besides the occasional stretch that at this point, feels delectable, rewarding even. the moment his thumb attaches to your clit again, the feeling in the pit of your stomach starts to grow. 
“jaemin, baby—” 
“taking me so well,” he mutters, “this pretty pussy is all mine, now. all for me to use as i please,” 
the pleas that fall from your lips are borderline pathetic, humiliating even, but the way jaemin’s eyes take you in like you’re the most beautiful and delicate thing only encourage you to get louder. he fucks you faster and brings his hands up to lift your shirt up. your hand cups your own breasts over his and you cry out as he palms it, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 
you undoubtedly enjoy his fingers and you fucking love his tongue, but this feeling is like nothing you’ve even felt before. you can feel every drag of his cock within your gummy insides, every time his tip kisses your cervix… the pressure continues building, so much so that your insides feel like they’re on fire. 
“i’m–i–i think i’m gonna—” the quiver in your voice matches up with your shaking legs, ankles locking around your boyfriend’s waist.
“please come on my dick, sweetheart. shit—need to feel you coming around me,” his voice is tight, and you can tell he’s not far off from his own release. with the way your legs keep him close, it dawns on him that he can't pull out, “baby, loosen up,” he taps your leg, “i can’t hold off much longer with the way you’re milking me,” 
“come inside me,” 
his hips stutter and he blinks down at you, “what?” 
your curled, tear-coated lashes flutter at him and his thumb wipes some drool from the corner of your lips as you plead him, “want your cum inside me, please,” 
jaemin picks up his pace again, and his thumb rubs your puffy clit until you gasp, brows pinching and heat rushing to your cheeks. your pussy convulses around him as you come, gripping any bit of him. his wrist, his arms, his shoulders, his hair—all of them take turns being clutched in your fists as you slur his name, chanting ‘please’ and ‘don’t stop.” 
“good girl. good fucking girl,” 
it doesn’t take long for you to register his load filling you up just moments later, the warm seed coating his dick in a ring of white as his thrusts slow, the only sound left in the room being the pants from both of you. your legs go limb, unwrapping from around him, but he doesn’t move to pull away; instead, he collapses on top of you, but keeping his head up so he can press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. 
“was that okay?” 
“more than okay,” you reply breathlessly. 
his strokes your hair calmly, waiting until you’ve recovered before slipping out of you and crawling off the bed. A moment later, he’s returned with a glass of water which he hands you, and a towel. slowly, in case you were any kind of sore, he spreads your legs, the sight making him laugh. 
“what’s wrong?” you ask after taking a long drink, leaning up on your elbows to look. 
“nothing in the slightest. m’just admiring,” 
“oh,” you hum. 
aftercare from jaemin is always great, but there’s something different about today—about the way he dabs at you softly with the warm towel, leaving trails of kisses on the plush of your inner thighs, that causes your heart to leap in your chest. when you’re clean, and kissed to his satisfaction, he places the towel aside and grabs a clean pair of panties from your drawer to slide up your legs. 
new boxers clothe him, too, and then he grabs your cup and places it on the bedside table before crawling under the sheets beside you. instantly, you nuzzle your face into his neck and he wraps his big arms around you, tucking you close. 
“does anything hurt?” he whispers, lips pressed against your head. 
“a little sore, i think.” 
“1-10?” 
“hmmm…” you turn to look up at him as you ponder, meeting his pretty eyes, “maybe a 4,” 
“my poor baby,” he mumbles, “i’m sorry,” 
“don’t be,” you kiss him, “i’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.” 
his lips chase yours and he smiles, “yeah? round two?” your eyes widen like saucers and he laughs, “i’m only joking, doll.”
“after a little nap, i’ll be good as new.” you beam, “maybe then, i can try riding you,” 
“patience, baby… we have to ease into that,” 
with a roll of your eyes and a grumble of “you and easing into things, jaemin, i swear–” you lay your head on his chest once more and drift off as he plays with your hair.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months
Text
Father’s Friend! John Price Headcanons
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Warnings: 18+, Forbidden Romance, Age Gap, Implied Smut, Brief Descriptions of Smut, Cock Warming, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cum Inflation, Stomach Bulging, Teasing, Older Man/Younger Reader, Pet Names, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
He tells you to keep quiet when you’re being intimate; he silences you with a sibilant “Shhh,” when your moans get too loud, telling you to “Keep your voice down, Sweetheart. Wouldn’t want your dad to walk in on his precious little angel getting fucked by his best friend.”
He’s a tease, too. “Or, maybe that’s what you want. Want me to fill you up and send you out there with your belly pumped full of me. Show em all how much you like getting speared by an older man’s cock.”
And if he finds it you’re going on a date with someone who isn’t him — WHOO, that will NOT end well for you.
He’ll bend you over the nearest sirface and pound into you. Gently enough that you can still walk after the encounter, but hard enough to remind you who you belong to.
“Can he fuck you like this?” John pants, teeth gritted and eye twitching as he feels you clenching around him, speechless. Drooling onto the cover of your bed beneath you. His hand slides up your front. Presses into your stomach. He growls as he feels himself there, his tip throbbing inside you. “D’you think he can make you feel like this?”
And when your date arrives to pick you up, he watches you walk, a hand placed over your stomach to hide the bump formed there, your thighs together pressed together to try and stop John’s semen from leaking into your underwear. And John watches you, a thin, sly smile on his face as your gaze finds his. He waves you off, knowing you’ll back. For more. For him.
For the rest of the evening, all Price can think of is you trying to go about your business knowing that you harbour a secret in your stomach; namely his cum sloshing around inside you. He can just imagine the surprise on your date’s face if you decided to get intimate with him, only for him to tear your underwear off and find you already wet with another man’s cum oozing from your hole and rolling down your thighs in thick globs.
John’s life has been a series of high-action, adrenaline-filled moments. But none of those compare to when the two of you are hiding your forbidden relationship from everyone around you.
Price’s unwavering love of cock warming has almost led to the two of you being caught multiple times; namely when you’ve been sat on John’s lap, squirming as his dick lays nestled deep inside you, only for someone to come bursting through the door, making you jump, tighten around John. He has to try and stifle the guttural growl clawing up his throat you’re squeezing — milking — him in your moment of panic.
Luckily, John’s ridiculously large desk - the one you’d often remarked he only got to comfortably fuck you on - hides what lays beneath the surface of this particularly dark and colossal iceberg. It conceals the outline of John’s cock inside you, the material of your shirt seemingly too thin for the job.
John dismisses the person who rudely interrupted you. Sure, they gave the two of you a strange look upon seeing you sat in John’s lap, but as far as that person’s concerned, that’s all it is. Flirting at most.
John’s interest in you isn’t purely sexual, though. He cares for you. Truly and utterly. You remind him of the feeling of first love — the one he never got.
He takes you out to fancy restaurants, ones far enough out of town that nobody knows who either of you are, letting you act open with each other. Hand holding, forehead touches, fingers running up your thigh, quick kisses, slow kisses, kisses that stray into dark waters.
Speaking of a hand running up your thigh; John’s classic, default move whenever you’re at a crowded event together (especially in the presence of people you know). You and John always sit beside each other, which always leads to his hand slipping beneath the tablecloth and up your leg, stopping only when he reaches the warmest spot — the inside of your thigh.
And he does this all while maintaining conversations with other people while you’re left mute and wanting.
Of course, he always delivers.
He’ll pull your underwear to the side and start toying with you. Gently, at first, his pace slow as not to attract attention. Then, when your face starts to get red and your voice is but a string of whimpers, he leans in, closely, so you can smell his cologne that charges hundreds by the drop, feel his beard tickling the side of your face, and whispers: “Don’t get yourself all worked up, Love. We’re with guests, after all.”
John will never let you cum under these circumstances. He’ll take you to a nice and isolated room and have his way with you until you’re having to lean on him for the rest of the evening, his arm about your waist and his semen pooling in your underwear. Heavy. A mistaken gesture of friendship.
If anyone ever did get suspicious of your relationship, John would tell you immediately.
“I can’t risk losing you,” he’d say, stare solemn. “We’ll have to keep our distance — just for the time being.”
God forbid you start crying, otherwise he’s on his knees, taking your hand in his and pressing long, deep kisses to your knuckles, his breath nigh-frantic and hot against your skin.
“I promise, Darling, this is only temporary.”
It would have to be, because John can’t go two minutes without thinking of you, needing you.
He sees something that’s your favourite colour in a shop window ? There you are, in the forefront of his mind.
You still interact with each other, of course, but you can’t be as close to one another as you’re used to being. As you’d like to be.
John can only watch you as you fraternise with other guests, party-goers, your father’s lawn party a hit. And yet all he can think about is having you by his side, fingers interlocked and looking down at you with all the love he’s never been able to give to anyone else.
These avoidant periods usually always end with John coming to your door and knocking profusely, his visage that of a man who’s seen nothing but ghosts all his life. And he takes you in his arms, pressing kisses to every inch of your face, leaving the two of you gasping for breath by the end of it, his eyes filled with adoration he’s never known and will only ever know for you.
Usually, you can expect a mountain of gifts to be waiting for you after your suspicion avoidance era ends - a collage of everything John collected that reminded him of you in your absence.
Some of it he purchases solely for you to wear for him and him alone, to put on a show for him. Sure, it’ll get torn off shortly after, but John can’t deny that you look like a present wrapped up just for him to unravel, to ravage.
Clothes, jewellery, accessories, shoes; he watches you wear them out and about. Something about seeing you wearing things he’s bought for you sends him feral — the fact that you’re drenched in his wealth while nobody else knows what lies beneath the surface. Beneath the layers of satin and silk and silver are the remnants of the night before. Teethmarks, bruises, scratches; the etchings of hours of pure, uninterrupted love-making. Breathless confessions, promises of a life together where you don’t have to hide your love.
Every outfit, every coat, is the disguise for many a night more.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months
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Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭
Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid
Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺
First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.
Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]
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The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.
You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.
To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.
"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"
Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.
"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.
The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.
Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.
"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.
So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.
"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"
Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.
"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.
The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.
He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.
Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.
Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.
It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.
So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.
Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.
The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.
Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.
The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.
"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."
"I don't care about money."
Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?
"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.
"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.
But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.
Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.
"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."
The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.
You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.
Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.
"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.
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whateveriwant · 6 months
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Can you please do Task force 141 finding out they’re having quintuplets! I’d imagine that they wouldn’t plan to have that many….at least not all at once 🧍‍♀️
Ghost
When the technician points out the five distinct dots on the ultrasound, he immediately goes dead silent
I mean, he's always pretty quiet anyway, but this is like quiet quiet
He doesn't utter a single word for the rest of the appointment, nor on the ride back home for that matter
This has you more concerned than you care to admit because you know that, not that long ago, he didn't think he'd ever have (much less want) kids of his own some day
So now that he's learned he's about to have five? You can't imagine what's going through his mind right now
It isn't until you're walking through the front door that you're being stopped with a gentle hand tugging on your wrist
You turn to look at him and, without a word, he drops to his knees before you, rolling up the bottom of your shirt to expose your belly
He'll press the softest of kisses just beside your navel, before looking up at you with expressive eyes that convey the foremost thought in his head: Thank you
Soap
Nearly shits a brick the moment the words leave the technician's mouth
All the color swiftly drains from his face and he has to sit down before he keels over right in the middle of the office
It's not so much fear that has him going paper white but pure shock at hearing the unexpected (yet not unhappy) news
While you'd already discussed having a big family together one day, you didn't think you'd get it done in one fell swoop
However, maybe you should've seen it coming since you both come from families that have had multiples
The possibility of this happening was decently high, so in a way, you're not all that surprised by the revelation
Once he's composed himself and is a little less ghostly pale in the face, he's eagerly requesting the technician to print out an excessive number of copies of the ultrasound
Why? Well, he's gotta send them to everyone, of course! His family, your family, all the lads at work. Hell, maybe your neighbor Charlie would like one too. Better print several just in case
Gaz
"C– Come again?" He thinks he misheard the technician at first
However, even hearing it a second time, he has to stand up, round the bed, and get about an inch away from the monitor to confirm for himself
It's almost comical the way his eyes widen at the screen, darting around the black and white image like he can't comprehend what he's seeing
It'll take some coaxing to get him back in his seat, and as he does, you hear him mumbling to himself – something about nappies, never sleeping again, and *shudders* University
At some point, out of the corner of your eye, you see him messing with his hands
He's putting his palm in front of his own stomach then drawing it about a foot or two away, as if trying to visualize the size your belly is destined to grow
Even when you get back home, it's like reality hasn't fully hit him yet
It's not until you find him at 2am looking up double decker prams that you realize it's finally starting to sink in, and he's more than ready for the challenge ahead
Price
Seems awfully calm when the technician breaks the news to you two
Based on his reaction – a light smile and mere "Oh, that's wonderful" – you'd think he'd just been informed of the weather or something
To be honest, his reaction (or lack thereof) is a little disarming, but you don't comment on it until you're buckling up in the car, mentioning his seeming total lack of nerves about the future
He chuckles and jokes that he already has to look after three big kids at work. What's five little ones at home to compare?
Though you think you can see what he's getting at, his cool-headedness about it all still has you in a bit of a tizzy
Is he not even a little surprised by the news? After all, it's not every day that people fall pregnant with quintuplets
At your question, he smiles and leans to press a bristly kiss to the back of your hand. When he pulls back, he's smirking, giving you the smuggest look you've ever seen from a man
"Told you I've got strong swimmers, love"
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anantaru · 7 months
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DAY 14 —YANDERE CORRUPTION
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — dan heng, jing yuan
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, yan! hsr characters, possessive & jealous, hints of voyeurism in jing yuan's part, cowgirl, jing yuan and dan heng kinda crazy in this one idk
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𖧡 — DAN HENG
dan heng simply cannot get one minute without worrying himself sick about you— not when he was utterly frightened due to a possibility, which he was certain would happen one day, of you getting hurt in one way or the other— but you cannot blame him then, right? when your boyfriend does what he believes was the best outcome for the both of you, meaning to protect you at all times.
now, be it with him remaining next to you whenever you're tackling an appointment or idly go somewhere, whilst he will make sure to shower you with enough love and pleasure as well, which would slowly reveal his second concern and reason for his uneasiness— the thought that you'd leave him one day.
like a virus in disguise, the bothersome thought was pestering him from the cold mornings up to the silent nights— even when he's got you bouncing on his lap with practiced ease, with his rough palms scattered across your jiggling flesh to rub you over his shaft and thrust his raw cock against the spongy parts.
one might assume that the last thing someone would dwell on in a setting such as this one, was an engraved panic hidden beneath ones heart— but again, sadly, dan heng cannot help himself but continuously pester his psyche of an imagination in his mind, which was driving him into madness and guided him to a path full of unhealthy behaviors.
he presses his fingers against you harder now, the bristling tension that intertwined your moving frames rose rapidly as you whine out before sinking down on him once more, his deep thrusts in tune with your hips rolling over his shaft, the lust evident in your gaze as you look down on his flexed stomach, each rill and curve of his muscles embedded with sweat and glowing hotly as you swallow down the budding saliva in your mouth at the sight.
his arms curl tightly around your waist as you gasp at how impossibly close he had gotten to you suddenly, making it a whole lot more difficult to move yourself on him in facileness, your head clouded in a euphoric paradise that had you short of breath, especially the feeling of your walls squishing around his shaft so tight was overwhelming but didn't stop you from recognizing that something has been wrong.
"..dan heng?" your words slip out as a soft whine against his cheek as you find him in a trance, glazed eyes half-lidded with his forehead resting on your shoulder, "y-yeah?" he removes his palms from your waist to raise your hips up, only leaving the tip in and beckoning you to lean a bit forward, so it wouldn't be uncomfortable to neither of you— and he even smiles, hazily and a little frozen, giving the impression away that it was unnatural.
before you were able to respond though, he had already thrown another question at you, "you wouldn't leave me, right?" he says with a hum of your name reaching you next, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass and making it bounce under his touch. "w-what? never!" you hold yourself on his broad shoulders as his tip brushes delicately over the beginning of your insides, only teasing for now, and you knew that dan heng wouldn't move, not before you'd answer him.
his crystalline eyes serve more as a warning, his dark hair strands framing his face so heavenly that you'd never assume that dan heng would have any problems regarding being too jealous or possessive of you— yet, the moment you respond, he glazes his warm tongue over the pulsing marks on your throat, together with slamming you back on his cock and making you take him all at once.
ugh, can you be any more perfect? you just know exactly how to make him unravel and break him free from any doubt playing on repeat in his mind— with those smooth, wet movements of your hands gyrating over his hips, his breathing becoming ragged, needy, and a familiar rush of warmth touches the depths of your stomach as an orgasm finally washes over the both of you. 
it's certain, dan heng was just imagining things again, and there really was no one left walking on this planet who would threaten his relationship in any shape or form— bluntly put, at least not anymore, because your boyfriend dan heng made sure to place early preparations on such things, always one step at a time, getting rid of any threats he might encounter in his life.
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𖧡 — JING YUAN
without a single shred of doubt, you can easily discern that you were one of jing yuan's priorities, if not the most important one— you can tell by the lingering touch of gratifying proximity along your entire body when he lies himself back on top of you, sinking his hips between your thighs as they tremble around him.
he tends to observe your beauty from afar as well, coos to himself when he calls you lovely the second he catches a smile linger over your lips, or when you come home after a long day and immediately jump into the hot bathtub to take a shower— ugh, you're so delicious when you're all bare and exposed, without realizing he was there to watch it all happen in real time, taking relish by how easy you were to adore.
between seas, galaxies and the moon, the general was truly lucky, and he wouldn't want to live a day without you, nor would he let you live your life without him being in the picture— because without adornment, he was obsessed with you and if you were to see into his thoughts, you'd see nothing but your face.
now, he's easing your hips forward to make you bounce back and forth the mattress before returning to shift his weight onto one his forearms so he can press himself real snug and tight inside— your pulsing walls loading with vibrations as he grunts strongly, his dripping dick thickening and throbbing at every thrust before he adds a couple shallow hits into you, smirking ever so handsomely against your parted lips.
you felt pliant under him, fucked-out and shaky as his broad body covers and blankets you— and he kisses you then, eagerly swallows up the intoxicating, little mewls that fell from the tip of your tongue as he carries on to greedily stuff you full, his cock dripping with pre and touching up your intimate skin, his length stroking against your velvety walls in a way that constricts your stomach and has you wincing from the pressure of both his cock fully sheated in you and his large body practically luring the breath from your lungs.
it’s filthy, this entire situation was, but you find utter bliss in his cock rolling into your flexing walls— and for some reason, it felt like the general knew your body better than you did, knew you for much longer, even though you had personally just met him only tonight.
yet, with how he was fucking you, leisurely rotating his hips just the right way so he nudges against those twitching pleasure spots to leave you hanging on a rope— almost like he studied you for months on end but oh, this cannot be true!
and you quickly remove yourself from such pestering thoughts that only served as a troublesome emotion, you certainly do not require this right now— rather do you lastly come to a conclusion you believe was right, being that the ever so well respected general just had to be perfect for you.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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the-offside-rule · 2 months
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Lando Norris (McLaren) - Moving Home
Requested: yes
Prompt: Moving in with Lando x
Warnings: nope
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Lando gazed at the picturesque English countryside as they walked hand in hand up the pebbled driveway. The prospect of moving back to England with his girlfriend, Y/n, was an exciting one. He had missed the rolling hills and the vibrant culture and in all honesty, Monaco had gotten been a bit boring after a while. He remember how he tried convincing Y/n to just move to Monaco and not worry about uni since he said he would take care of her forever, but she was not going to just give up on university that easily.
As they approached a house with a "For Sale" sign, Lando couldn't help but feel a spark of anticipation. The real estate agent, a friendly man named James, greeted them with a warm smile. "Hello there! You must be Lando and Y/n. Very lovely to meet you." James said, shaking their hands. Lando smiled. "Nice to meet you, James. We're looking forward to finding the perfect place." He said, holding his hand out for Y/n to take. "Well, hopefully this is it. It's truly a remarkable house." James saud as he led them inside the house, a grand property with a spacious garden and elegant architecture. As they explored the rooms, Y/n's eyes lit up at the features that matched her wishlist.
"I'll let you both have a look around yourselves. I just need to make a call." James said before leaving the room. "This is beautiful, but-" Y/n hesitated, glancing at Lando with concern. "It's quite expensive, isn't it? Almost 4 million pounds." Lando squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, love. I want us to have the best. I'll take care of it." Y/n smiled, feeling a wave of warmth. "You're sure? It won't be too much will it?" Lando laughed. "Darling, I got paid 20 million last year. This place is not not much." They continued the tour, discussing how they would decorate each room and imagining their life in this idyllic setting.
Over tea in the cozy kitchen, they finalized their decision. Lando looked at Y/n with determination. "This is the one. I want you to be happy, and if it means a beautiful home in England, then it's worth every penny." Y/n's eyes shimmered with gratitude as they held each9thwrs hand on the table. "Perfect, I can get a payment plan started out for you if you'd like and then-"
"No, no, I have the money just tell me when you want it and I'll send it on over." The dealer was gobsmacked. He didn't exactly know how to react to this 24 year old saying he can just pay off his house whenever it is needed. "I mean, whenever you'd like to move in." Lando nodded. "Let me call my bank and I'll have the money sent over." Lando stood up, smoothenlling out his shirt and shaking hands with James. "Please doing business." Jame said. "I will call you to finalise everything." Lando placed his hand behind Y/n. "Of course, we'll be in touch."
A matter of weeks later, Lando and Y/n shared laughter as they tackled the mountain of boxes in their new home. "I hope our furniture isn't lost in this bloody cardboard." Lando quipped, holding up a lampshade. Y/n chuckled, setting a box down. "Well, at least we'll have a well-lit maze." Lando plopped down onto the sofa, completely exhausted from hoisting boxes around everywhere. "You okay?" Y/n asked sitting beside him. "Just tired. I honestly thought being a racing driver would prepare me for this, but these boxes are giving me a headache." Y/n leaned on his shoulder. "Well, maybe if you drove as fast as you unpack, we'd be done by now."
"Rude."
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Note
I thought i sent it but i don't think i did though... if i did then oops sorry.
Can i request more TWIST characters who carry reader on their shoulders?
I believe you've done a fair bit of them so I'm trying to remember which ones haven't been asked about.... I think Lilia, Kalim, Jamil, Malleus, Sebek and Riddle? Those are the ones off the top of my head tbh but DON'T feel pressured to do em all. I'm fine with whatever you want to write. I'm just listing stuff for ideas. You don't have to use any of these concepts if they don't resonate.
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Sitting on Their Shoulders (4) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Lilia Vanrouge
“Looking at it there’s no way we’re going to get that flag down without a stool or something.”
“Hey why not just get on my shoulders!
“What?”
“Yeah just hop up on my shoulders and grab it! You don’t want to lose the game do you?”
“...Are you sure this is the way we should be doing this? Maybe you should go on mine.”
“Pft are you underestimating me, my little bat? C’mon I can handle you I promise.”
Despite your concern Lilia practically forces you to sit 
Ducking under your legs and standing up
You’ll be too busy regaining your balance to heed the moan he lets out
Too focused on the flag up high to see his eyes roll to the back of his head as you release your grip on his hair
He might toss you up claiming some lie he needs readjust his grip while squeezing your thighs together 
Practically smothering him
“I got it! Okay Lilia I’m ready to come down now! Lilia. Lilia?”
“I’ve decided we should stay this way for the rest of the game!”
“What?!”
“Yup so hold on tight sweet cheeks! I need to run off all the extra energy you’ve given me!”
He really does need to run off all his excitement 
Otherwise he doesn’t know he wouldn’t revert to his more violent ways should anyone break the precious skin-to-skin contact you were having
“(Y/n), I think I just found my favorite place to be!”
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Riddle Rosehearts
“How about I put you on my shoulders Riddle? That way you should be able to reach the sugar and we’ll have delicious tarts in no time!”
“...I’ll lift you up.”
“But you’re a lot short—”
“I’ll do it!”
He of course had not thought of himself in such a position lies+
But having his whole face swallowed in between your thighs as he balanced your weight awakens something in him
If there is any aching he has under your weight is dissipated by the overwhelming feeling of you
You, being all around him
Him smelling you with no end in sight
He’s used to imagining and guiltily dreaming about things such as this
It finally puts his intense dictatorship guarding of your friendships
No one should ever be given this 
No one but him
“Uh Riddle can we go to the right a little?”
“...”
“Riddle?..Am I too heavy?”
“NO! I apologize, I was distracted by the...heat….within this room. I’ll go to the left now.”
“Right. We need to go right!”
“Y-yes!”
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disneyprincemuke · 2 months
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✧.* the parent trap / ls2 *.✧
while luna's observant nature is typically a blessing, you suddenly find yourself a part of her little games after you and logan get into a fight that leaves you refusing to talk to one another
notes: i missed dad!logan so here we are
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“love,” logan sighs as his hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “come on.”
“don’t even say that to me!” you shriek before turning to walk away from him. “no, seriously, logan. i no longer want to speak to you.”
“you can’t just do that!”
“yeah, i can! watch me!”
marriage is fun, they said. though you actually cannot remember who specifically said that to you, or is that something you told yourself to make yourself feel better for getting married at 20?
either way, it’s tough juggling being a wife to an athlete who is rarely home, your job and a 5-year-old. you just wish someone had talked some sense into you before you decided that teenage pregnancy was smart.
spoiler alert: it, in fact, is not.
so you spend the night in the guest room by yourself with frustration in your veins. you could have opted to continue arguing with logan, but the sleeping toddler just a door down just makes it so difficult to continue.
your ability to turn a petty argument into a full fledged argument has bled into your marriage, and you have to admit that both of you are still slowly still figuring that part out.
it’s a lot harder than you thought.
you fall asleep after tossing and turning for hours, not used to the stiffness of the bed in the guest bedroom that’s only ever lived in when logan’s brother comes for a visit. the sheets smell too clean and the room is neat — you’re rarely inside, only using it as luna’s makeshift playroom at times.
so imagine the toddler’s shock when she knocks on the master bedroom door and stumbles in only to find one parent under the sheets. and it’s not even the same as before: she’d half expected you laying by yourself but not this time. it’s just logan.
considering logan is rarely home makes it all the more perplexing for the blue eyed kid.
she hums, climbing over logan who’s lying on his side. “where’s mummy?”
“mummy needed some ‘me time’,” logan grins, peeking through an eye as luna climbs under the sheets, nuzzling herself into his arms. “mummy is sleeping in the next room over.”
luna hums, nodding understandingly though concerned for her mother. she contemplates checking on you briefly, but the minute logan’s soft snores filled the empty room again, she knew she was stuck in place for the next couple of minutes until logan remembers that luna is here to wake you both up for breakfast.
so she sighs, closing her eyes and forcing herself into a slumber again to ignore her grumbling stomach. and because she hasn’t seen logan for 2 weeks, so this is kinda nice.
luna is awoken by the smell of pancakes and she knows instantly that you’ve finally rolled out of bed and mummy’s ‘me time’ is finally over. she scrambles out of logan’s arms, completely unaware of the deep slumber that her father has slipped into, interrupted by her thrashing around.
“mummy!” the girl screeches as she opens the door, stuffed koala locked between her arm and her body. “are those pancakes?”
“good morning, lulu,” you greet her, setting a plate down on the table. she greets you softly, wobbling over to you and tiptoeing when you press a kiss to the top of her head. “you slept with daddy?”
“i went in to wake him up,” she mutters, climbing onto the seat next to you, “then we fell asleep again.”
logan stumbles out of the room as well, hair a mess and eyes still half open. he merely glances at you, catching your eye as you both consider acting civilised in front of your child. though your argument is fresh in both of your heads, he greets you nonchalantly as he passes you on his way to the kitchen.
he didn’t even have to look at the table to know that you’d only prepared breakfast for yourself and luna.
“morning,” you find yourself greeting him back with a small smile to play the part in front of luna. you hunch over again and pat luna. “do you wanna go out and do something today, lulu? let’s have a girls’ day?”
she hums again, leaning forward to grab her utensils. “without daddy?”
you tilt your head. “daddy’s not a girl.”
you see luna purse her lips, furrowing her eyebrows as she considers your offer. logan is only going to be home for a week and a half, and she knows that. but you can’t physically stand the thought of staying at home with logan in the vicinity, your argument still leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
it’s just unfair that he was questioning your parenting decisions when he’s rarely here for luna the majority of the time. sure, you know how difficult it is for him to cope with the situation, always feeling like an absent father more often than not. but it’s not a good enough reason to question how you choose to deal with emergencies you deal with by yourself when he’s not home.
it’s not fair that he’d question your ability to be a parent to your sole child.
“okay,” luna shrugs with a smile. “can we go to build-a-bear?”
you smile and nod. “of course!”
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it’s been 2 days since you’ve spoken to logan. both of you are running out of excuses to tell luna why you’re not sleeping in the same bed and why you’re practically ignoring one another.
acting civilised in front of the toddler seemed okay at first, until luna opened the door to the guest bedroom with a head tilt and questions on her lips.
“mummy, do you not love daddy anymore?”
you cannot begin to explain how fast you sat up and turned to the door with mirrored furrowed eyebrows and a head tilt. “luna, why would you ask me that?”
she shrugs with a frown, looking down at her feet. “did you fight?”
you sigh, closing your eyes. you always knew treating luna like a normal human being would bound to have it’s disadvantages. she’s a very well spoken 5-year-old, articulate and more spatially aware than you would like.
“mummy and daddy are just figuring something out,” you explain softly as she closes the door behind her and walks over to where you are. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t love him anymore. why would you say that?”
she climbs on the bed and settles herself on your lap, immediately nuzzling her face into your chest. “i’m just making sure. cause i still love daddy.”
“well, i still love daddy,” you grin, brushing her hair. “i’m just upset with him right now. like you with your friend in preschool, remember? but that doesn’t mean we won’t ever make up.”
luna hums throwing her head back with a grin. then she scrambles out of bed, koala stuffie still in her arms as she runs out of the room. “okay!”
“lulu, where are you going?”
she shrugs, tiptoeing as she opens the door to leave you. “it’s my playtime now.” she turns to you with a cheeky grin. “do you want to join me?”
you nod. “can i join you in a couple of minutes? mummy’s got some work to finish.”
she nods before she closes the door behind her. but while you think that she’s disappeared into the living room for playtime, she actually makes a sharp turn for the master bedroom to ask logan the same thing.
she opens the door, feigning sadness with her head hung low. she frowns as she looks at logan with puffed cheeks and sad eyes. “you still love mummy, don’t you?”
logan, who’d already been awake and on his phone, turns to his daughter with a bewildered expression. how long was he gone for that his daughter suddenly turned into some old woman stuck in a toddler’s body?
“what?”
her frown grows. “you don’t love mummy?”
“what?” logan throws his head back, putting his phone down. “of course i still love mummy! why would you think otherwise?”
she presses her lips together, squinting her eyes as she approaches logan slowly. “you and mummy have not dropped me off at uncle oscar’s to hang out without me,” she hums, keeping her gaze on logan. “you should hang out with mummy.”
logan hums, pressing his lips together. “soon, lulu. don’t you like spending time with us together at home?”
she climbs on the bed and hunches her back. she sighs exasperatedly and shrugs with her whole body before dropping her back on the bed. “you and mummy don’t even talk to each other.”
she tries probing logan for a confession like she did with you, clearly knowing the transparency that you share from spending everyday with her. logan, however, she’s constantly trying to figure out each time he spends at home with her. not to say that she doesn’t think she’s not close with her dad — because she is — it’s just a different dynamic.
“what if…” when logan continues to stare at her, she sighs softly. she sits up. “can you play tea party with me?”
he furrows his eyebrows, shocked by the sudden change in mood. “sure? but weren’t you going to ask me something?”
she shrugs, now climbing out of the bed. “nope.” she stands on her feet and looks at logan. “tea party?”
“of course!”
suddenly logan finds himself trying to squeeze into a chair that’s clearly too small for him, sipping on imaginary tea. his daughter sits opposite him and the stuffed koala between them. he finds a plastic tiara on his head as they sit in silence for the next minute or so.
a door opens and makes luna perk up and grin at logan, her green eyes piercing into his own. “we have a special guest.”
logan tilts his head. “do we?”
“yes!” luna throws her hands in the air with a giggle, watching you approach them with a soft smile. “mummy is finished with her work! she can join us for tea party now!”
you laugh, merely glancing at logan as you approach their little table. “do you want me to make actual tea, lulu? have you guys been drinking pretend tea this whole time?”
luna shrugs, running from the table to her play kitchen where her little kettle sits on top of the plastic stove. “yes. but i like pretend tea. daddy, though,” she glances at you with a small and playful smile before looking at logan, “maybe he wants big people tea.”
“daddy can make big people tea by himself,” you laugh.
she drops her smile. “but you should ask him.”
you force a smile to your face, stiffly turning over to your husband, hunched over as he plays with the koala’s ears. “do you?” he looks at you. “want big people tea?”
logan shrugs, leaving the koala alone as he hesitantly keeps eye contact with you. “maybe.”
before you could shoot back an answer, something about making it himself, luna perks up and stumbles into you. “i changed my mind, mummy. i want some tea, please.”
you gasp. “i thought you said i was a special guest!”
“oh!” you see the gears shift in luna’s head as she shyly looks over at logan with a shy grin, finger in her mouth. “daddy…”
“okay,” logan mutters, pushing himself off the plastic chair. “i’ll make tea.”
you hold back a laugh when he stands up, the plastic chair stuck around his hips as he struggles to pull it off himself. only then do you notice that luna’s forced him into another one of her pink tutu’s for the tea party.
“hey,” you poke luna’s stomach, prompting a soft giggle from the toddler, “how come only daddy gets the cute accessories?”
she gasps, eyes wide as she darts away from you. she sprints over to the small box in the corner of the room and practically jumps in to dig for something for you. “i’ve got a tiara for you too, mummy!”
she comes back with a couple of accessories while logan’s gone to make your family some tea. you hunch over for luna to put the tiara messily on your head, even giggling as she helps you put some fairy wings on.
logan comes back with the promised tea eventually, juggling a teapot in one hand with three pink little tea cups in the other. a set that logan had found somewhere during one of his races and he couldn’t resist not getting it for luna and her tea parties involving real drinks.
“thank you!” luna perks, smiling up at logan as he takes a seat. “you made tea for mummy too?”
“of course.”
she turns to you. “mummy, what do you–”
“thanks,” you say as you finally take a seat in one of the small chairs, unfortunately, next to logan.
“i brought sugar for your tea.”
you look down at the sugar packets now sitting in front of you on the table as luna pushes away all of her plastic sets of teapots and cups. you feel your chest warm up at the subtle gesture, smiling at him as he sets the little plastic table with everything in his hands. “thank you,” you find yourself whispering as he puts a cup in front of you.
“so lulu,” logan starts, “how has pre-school been?”
you see her green eyes sparkle, excited that logan’s asked about school. she’s got stories upon stories to tell him, starting with the friends she’s made lately and the fact that she’s gotten into her first fight with a friend (they eventually make up).
then she starts rambling about her karting races, giggling about how you never fail to take her every weekend and take her out for dessert afterwards.
luna forces your phone out of your pocket, making you pull pictures out of her in her race suit and pictures of her zooming past you during her races and practice. it forces you and logan closer slightly, and suddenly you realise what luna is doing.
it only took logan turning to you with crinkled eyes, giggling along with you when the picture of luna passed out in the back of the car with her mouth hung open pops up. you’ve been set up by your own toddler, conspiring to ensure that you and logan are making up sooner rather than later.
it’s almost genius. you barely even have the time to think where she’s gotten this sneaky trait from because she starts shaking you to show logan pictures you took of your short trip to your mother’s right before he came home.
“aw, lulu,” logan coos at the picture of her interacting with your parents’ dog, all cuddled up on the couch as she watches tv. “you like mika?”
“like mika?” you snort, “she loves mika. she forced the poor husky to sleep with her the entire 3 days we were there.”
without noticing, luna starts pulling back as you and logan finally find yourselves engaged in conversation about her. she silently takes her koala from the seat next to her, slowly walking over to the couch with her ipad hoping that you don’t notice her.
“and mika was okay with that?” logan laughs, throwing his head back. “she didn’t get mauled by a dog twice her size or something?”
you shake your head in amusement at his statement. “i guess not! mika was so fond of her. probably from the constant belly rubs that luna gave her upon arrival.”
logan hums, resting his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees as he leans into you. “we should get her a dog. someone to keep her company while you’re away for work, you know?”
“logan,” you huff, furrowing your eyebrows, “she’s enough work as it is. an additional mouth to feed would be too much for me.”
he purses his lips together. “she’s been asking for a dog forever though.” you suck in a deep breath, finding yourself ready to explain why your household does not require a dog. as if reading your mind, he waves his hand in the air. “actually, you’re right. we should wait until she’s a bit older.”
you smile at him, thankful that he immediately got where you were going with the conversation. you glance at your daughter, now swinging her feet in the air as she lies on her stomach on the couch, tapping away on her ipad. “by the way,” you whisper, “i think we just got bested by our toddler.”
he giggles along with you, scrunching his nose. “i know. she’s got a future in strategising, don’t you think?”
“definitely. i haven’t been outsmarted in a while until luna started growing up to be a menace.”
he sighs, smiling slightly at you. “i’m sorry for the other night. i didn’t mean to poke at you for your decision-making — i was just shocked. you have it hard enough being home alone with luna all the time. i shouldn’t have questioned you.”
you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it. “i’m sorry too. i was a tad defensive.”
luna glances over at both of you, grinning to herself before returning her attention to her youtube video. suddenly all is right in the world and she’s counting hours to your announcement that she is being sent to uncle oscar’s house to spend the day so you can hang out by yourself.
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@33-81 @darleneslane @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @namgification @localwhoore
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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months
Note
Hello!!! i’m not sure if your doing requests or not. but i was wondering if you could do an Alastor x reader and everyone is doing movie night and i wanted to know his reaction to the said chosen movie Bambi, I’m currently whatching bambi and thought about this😅
Hiya! I thought this was such a cute little dabble in could do, so i got it out pretty quick! I never explicitly stated i do request but i do! Perhaps i’ll make a formal request post but for now i will take the ones that do come as they do. I really hope this is what you imagined i haven’t watched bambi in years! Xx
Movie night
PT 2
Words: 830
Alastor x gn reader
Warnings: Nada really, just bambi’s momma died rip disney love killing parents also could be read platonically or romantically
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“C’mon please.” Charlie begged you, hands clasped in front of her as she gently bounced on her heels. She was in the middle of begging you to talk Alastor into watching Bambi for tonight’s movie night. An exercise thought up by Charlie to have all of the patrons sit quietly and enjoy something together as a group, no fighting, no judgement, just relaxation as a unit.
But of course Alastor wasn’t a fan of said “picture shows” so Charlie enlisted you to do the sweet talking. After some more begging on Charlie’s part you gave in, knocking on Alastor’s door. You could already hear him humming happily to himself on the other side, sound increasing as he got closer. When he opened the door to you he visibly perked, seemingly pleased to see you. “Hello dear, what can i do for you?” Standing out of the way he outstretched his arm towards the inside of his bedroom. Smiling you gladly stepped in, feeling fairly comfortable around the demon and his presence at this point.
“Well, Charlie wants to have a movie night, everyone voted for Bambi, thoughts?”
“Ha, no.” Alastor cackled promptly shutting you down, it rolled off your back though, you expected this kind of response. “Y’know Al, the TV was a staple of 1936, and Bambi came out in 42, that’s ten years tops away from your time. It’s a musical too so up your alley, technocolour and it’s about deer. This is your movie man!” You exclaim excitedly, Alastor watched you theatrically explain with a fond look.
Once Alastor sighed dramatically you knew you were in. “Alright dear i’ll watch this silly moving picture with you.” Smiling, you stood tall linking your arms to his. “That’s why they call it a movie, it’s moving. See Al, not so bad you already know the lingo.” Alastor said nothing as you dragged him along amused by what he presumed was your nonsensical ramblings.
Once in the room with all the lights dimmed, a large tarp pulled over a fireplace, since Angel professed that “Projecta’s are just betta” as the excuse to not use a TV. Alastor snapped his fingers, changing both his and your clothes to loungewear of the 1930’s which you decided not to argue against due to him being so receptive of the whole movie thing. Once settled down, you mushed against the arm of the couch and Alastor, beside Alastor Husk, who kept a great inch from Al. And ontop of Husk, Angel, who wouldn’t leave no matter what Husk, or Al said.
Nifty sat in a little rocking chair, compliments of Alastor, Pentious was curled up with the egg bois, on the floor, and Vaggie shared a large bean bag with Charlie cuddled in together. At first things were fine, Alastor’s radio would hum along occasionally with the tunes, and you watched his ears occasionally flick at certain sounds in the movie.
It wasn’t until Bambi’s mother died that things went astray. Something in Alastor ticked, and suddenly he was pin straight unmoving and it was concerning. By this point everyone was zoned into the plot or sleeping- it seemed like only you noticed his change in demeanour. Softly placing your hand on his arm you asked for him to accompany you to the kitchen for some water, Alastor of course agreed being the gentleman that he is.
Once away from others ears you gave him a pointed look, one that told him he’d better tell the honest truth. “Is everything alright Al?” You asked, watching as he leaned forward on the island looking toward you who stood on the other side. It looked as if he was searching for an excuse, but you weren’t letting up so easy. Walking toward him you met his eyes. “I can keep a secret.” You promise in a whisper. Sighing static Alastor seemed a little peeved about your pestering but nonetheless didn’t blame you. “I suppose it reminded me of my mother, i’ll never see her again. I’m a lonely orphan deer, hahaha,” Alastor chuckled dryly, cocking his head side to side as he laughed.
“Not to mention those hunters are buffoons, most of the prize lies within a buck and their antlers. No sense in hunting doe really.” Alastor finished explaining, he felt weak humanly so, but he always did with you, it was like your very presence was truth serum and he couldn't help but sing out the truth whenever you’d ask him for it. With a gently hand against his shoulder you gave him a tight squeeze. “Maybe one day you’ll be able to see her again, I hope you can.”
Alastor hummed not paying much attention to the sentence, but he was at least happy he did have you, after all he told you many things, and you did manage to keep it to yourself. Composing himself again Alastor stood tall. “Well let’s go finish this movie dear! I can’t just walk out now!”
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