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dollfacefantasy · 4 months

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Baby Bunny

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: leon helps his sweet baby bunny through her heat.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, breeding kink, daddy kink

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i'm not sure how i feel about this one, but let's go with it. again, thank you everyone for reblogging and commenting, it means the world to me <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

In his personal life, Leon never wanted to be depended on. That was his job. He didn’t want that stuff following him home. He didn’t want to be tied down, to be responsible for someone like that. People depended on him in Raccoon city and look how that turned out. Every mission he’s been on for the last few years, he’s responsible for someone. It’s exhausting.

But as he nears 30, he starts to look at it differently. An aching sense of isolation grows in his heart. He starts to think about what it would be like having someone, having a companion of some sort. Suddenly, he’s not looking at being relied on as a detriment. Being depended on means having someone to care for, someone to love. There would be someone at the end of long days and the starts of his currently lonesome nights.

That’s how he finds himself with you scampering around his house. The sweetest little thing he’d ever seen. Your long floppy ears, cute little cottontail, those big sweet eyes. From the moment he saw you, he was a sucker for all of it.

A while back he had briefly heard of human-animal hybrids, but he didn’t think much about it. It didn’t really apply to him. If anything, the idea weirded him out a bit.

That was until he started thinking more about his dilemma. It seemed like one of them might be a good solution. He talked to a few people and did some online research and decided to at least look into it. It couldn’t hurt to visit an adoption center right?

He visited the place and was still a little freaked by the whole concept. He walked through the rooms, watching different hybrids move about and mess around. The lady guiding him throughout asked him different questions, trying to decipher what type of hybrid would best fit his needs. But all of her questions were irrelevant as soon as he spotted you.

You were undoubtedly the one. His baby bunny. Not only did he not want any other hybrid, but he didn’t think he could physically leave that place without talking to you at the very least.

He walked over to you cautiously. You kept to yourself, and he could tell from your body language alone how timid you were. He spoke with the softest, most soothing tone he could manage, but you were still so shy.

You’d told him your name so quietly he could barely hear. He didn’t touch you at all, fearing you may cry at something that personal. But he kept talking to you because while others may have found it challenging, he could see you fitting right in with him.

You’d be dependent, sure, but clearly you wouldn’t be overly needy for affection. It would be a good way for him to transition from being alone into having someone.

He kept getting to know you and trying to get through some of your walls. He talked with you about all sorts of things and let you ask your own questions so you could get to know him. By the end of the day, you hesitantly allowed him to stroke your ears.

It was that exact day he told you that he was interested in you coming to live with him. You were still very reserved, but you seemed receptive. You did a little trial run over the course of a week, and just as Leon thought, you were a great fit.

You had grown more comfortable with him in the months since that week even though your core personality hadn’t changed. You were still generally quiet, never asking for much and being appreciative of whatever he gave you. You’d talk with him openly now, mostly responding to him rather than starting conversations but speaking nevertheless. You slept in your own room, but as soon as you woke up, you’d come find him to hang out. It was a nice balance with you.

But Leon still wanted a little more. He would never push it on you, knowing it would make you withdraw again, but he always cherished the moments of progress with you. You warmed up enough that you came around to enjoy cuddling. Leon couldn’t believe how soft he’d become when you curled up to his side and tucked yourself under his arm. The first time you fell asleep in his embrace, he loved it so much he felt chest pains. Once or twice, he’d gotten you to fully sit on his lap, and he couldn’t stop beaming.

He could give you little kisses on your face now, and you’d give him a sweet smile in return that he couldn’t get enough of. You’d never kissed him yourself, but you would nuzzle his cheek in return which was enough to make him happy.

You were just such a sweetheart, a perfect companion for him. You didn’t complain when he had to go to work, but it wasn’t like you didn’t miss him. He could see the way your ears would slump and your eyes would dim as he gathered his stuff and headed for the door. But you also got so happy when he came back. You tried to seem as subdued as possible, but the way you lit up again in his presence was obvious.

The only thing you were still completely closed off about was when you went into heat. Leon understood what it was, he had been nervous about it since bringing you home, but he had no clue about how you dealt with it at all. Every time it happened, you’d shut yourself up in your room for however many days it took, and then return to him as if nothing had happened.

For your sake, he played along. He got the sense it was a touchy subject after bringing up the possibility of getting you some more toys for it and having you immediately shut it down. Your voice had become higher pitched with defensiveness, and your eyes wouldn’t meet his for the next few hours.

He had only wanted to help, but he couldn’t tell you why. Couldn’t tell you that your desperate moans kept him up at night when they echoed down the hall. Those broken whimpers that made it sound like you were crying, so worked up and in need of release that it brought you to tears.

He also couldn’t share how it made his cock rise to attention. How those pretty little noises had him fucking his fist, other palm covering his mouth to muffle his grunts, searching for relief of his own. His precious baby bunny didn’t need to know all of that.

Today had been a long day. He was tired after dealing with all the bullshit that came with his job. Although, unlike in months prior, he wasn’t all doom and gloom driving home. The thought of his sweet girl at home waiting for him by the door kept his spirits somewhat up as he made the commute back.

To his surprise, you weren’t in the living room like normal. He walked through the room cautiously, a little on edge from the disruption to his routine. He goes into the kitchen and still doesn’t find you. He starts to walk to the back of the home and that’s when he hears something. Those soft, needy sounds of pleasure.

His eyebrows raise, but he continues walking. As he gets closer, he realizes something that adds another level of shock to this situation. The noises were coming from his room.

At this point, he was more concerned than anything else. He makes his way down the hallway to his room and slowly opens the door, cracking it open to peek inside.

His eyes widen as he sees you on his bed. You’re kneeling, doubled over though so your face is in the blankets, his pillow between your legs, and your hips rocking back and forth violently. You’re nude from the waist down, only wearing a shirt of his. One of your fists is clutching the blankets while you keep your face shoved against them in a weak attempt to muffle those cute noises.

His jaw goes slack at the sight. He wills himself to remain calm and not succumb to some of his own primal urges. He carefully steps into the room, trying to be quiet even though he couldn’t see a way to not startle you with his presence.

“Baby…” he says, using the most gentle voice he could manage.

You shoot up in bed, now kneeling vertically. Your eyes are wide like you’ve had the fright of your life, your expression clearly horrified that he’d caught you like this. And even though he tries not to look, he can’t help but notice that despite your reaction, your hips don’t stop rutting against the pillow.

“Daddy!” you gasp.

That short circuits his brain. He pauses for a good five seconds to grapple with what you just said. You’d never called him that before. Not that he minded necessarily… but it still gave him whiplash.

His reaction seems to cause you to realize what you had just blurted out. In the blink of an eye, you go from visibly horrified to completely mortified. Your eyes fill with tears as you whimper out “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

Oh god, and now you’re crying. Leon was still silent as he tried to keep his composure, force the heat building inside of him to cool off before he approached you. Looking at you though, that sweet face with tears leaking down those round cheeks… It made him want to bounce you on his lap till you were crying for a whole other reason.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he reassures you as he walks to the bed. He sits on the edge, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on your face. “Is it… Are you in heat?”

“Yes,” you say, tone dripping with shame. You bite your lip and try to restrain any further whimpers. Your hips were slowing down but still moving. After a few moments though, another wave of choked cries erupt from your throat and more hot tears of humiliation slide down your skin. Your hands fly up to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s ok,” he says softly. He cautiously takes your wrists and pulls them away from your face. He takes one of your hands in his, soothingly rubbing the back of your palm. You whimper at the touch, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s ok, honey. I’m not mad. You can’t help it. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

You look into his eyes with your tearful gaze. Your breathing was a little ragged from crying, but it seemed like he was calming you down slowly. You nod with uncertainty, waiting for him to make the next move.

He was also unsure of what to do. This was so unlike you, he’d never seen you this emotional for one, but he’d also never expected to see you in this position. And the entire time your hips were still grinding on that pillow, back and forth like a pendulum.

“Is it more intense this time?” he asks, keeping his tone gentle to not upset you again.

“I guess,” you whimper, “I just… I wanted you.”

It pained him to see you so uncomfortable and stressed out. He wanted you to be able to come to him with these types of things, to trust him with yourself when you’re in your most vulnerable state. It was clear that you desired that too, to some degree. You were in his room, humping his pillow, wearing his shirt.

“Well… I’m right here, baby. I want to help if I can. If you want me to,” he says.

Your skepticism is written all over your face. But you needed this even if you were a little nervous. He pats his lap encouragingly, and that’s the final push you need to let go of the pillow and crawl into his lap.

“There’s my baby bunny. Sweet girl,” he says softly as he gets you situated. He peppers a few tender kisses on your head and strokes your back.

You had only been there for a few seconds, but your hips were already squirming.

“What do you need, baby? Just tell Daddy, and you can have it,” he whispers. The title rolls off his tongue as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It had caught him off guard when you said it, but after it rattled around in his head for a bit, it took root. Now, he just wanted to hear you say it again.

You whimper, looking at him through your lashes with those sweet eyes. At this point, you were all but riding his thigh. There’s a pause as you decide how to articulate your desire.

“I need… I need you,” you offer timidly.

“I know that, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “Try to be more specific for me. Daddy only wants to know so he can help you. Give you exactly what you need.”

He reaches up and cradles the back of your head, bringing you in to rest it on his shoulder. His other arm wraps around you and rubs your back. He holds you as close as he can to give you that physical reassurance he knew you longed for in your condition.

You still hesitate, obviously working up your will to explicitly state your cravings.

“I want Daddy inside, wanna be bred,” you whimper, turning your face against his shoulder to hide your eyes. Your whole head felt hot with the weight of what you said. It was almost dizzying, but he swoops in with his cooing voice and gentle praises to keep you together.

“Poor baby,” he croons, “I don’t know how you handled this alone for so long, honey. That’s so unfair to you, all these big feelings you had to work through by yourself. So frustrating.”

You knew he was being excessively caring now, but you had no complaints. The loving cadence of his voice made your mind melt. All you could do is whimper and nod against his shoulder.

“You could’ve come to Daddy anytime you wanted. I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny, especially not about this,” he says, kissing your head and giving your ears a few loving strokes.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweet girl. I’m here now. We’re gonna fix it. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he says.

He shifts you around a little so he can slide his pants down and free his hard cock. Your curious eyes dart back to his face after a quick look at the flushed tip and the veins spanning the shaft.

“You ready?” he asks softly.

“Mhm, need it,” you whimper in return, helping him get your hips into position.

He lowers you on to his cock. Both of you let out hushed noises of pleasure as the sensation strikes pleasure within you. His fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips as he slides further into you. Your arms tighten around him and your eyes already start to flutter at the snug fit.

You whine and babble out some nonsense when you’re finally flush against him. His cock twitches inside of you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. You could hear the tension in his own voice from exerting so much restraint. “You feeling any better?”

“Little bit, need more Daddy,” you mewl.

“Just give yourself a second to adjust, angel,” he grunts. You were pulsing around him, making it harder for him to not let go.

But it seems you’re feeling the same way. You shake your head in response to his words and start haphazardly squirming around, trying to move up and down while still in his hold.

“Need it Daddy,” you whine, “Can’t wait. Pretty please.”

Like he’d said, he couldn’t say no.

“If you’re sure, honey,” he says and loosens his grip, “Be a good bunny and bounce for Daddy.”

That’s all you need to hear before you’re bouncing up and down. Wet noises fill the room as your slick pussy takes him in and out. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the embarrassment fade and just feeling the pleasure running through you.

Leon focuses on helping you keep your balance as you ride him. His own belly was twisting with ecstasy as your heat engulfs him over and over.

“That’s it, good baby,” he grunts, “Keep going, honey. Get it all out.”

You whine and continue on, up and down, up and down. More cute noises spill from your mouth as the head of his cock nudges all the right places. You ramble on, mumbling things like “love my daddy” over and over.

“Daddy loves you too, sweet girl,” he says softly.

He notices you starting to cling and whimper more. You were still riding, but your rhythm was becoming more awkward. You seemed more desperate even though you literally had him as close and as deep as physically possible.

He tries to help and do more of the work. He pulls you in close again and holds you against his body. Your face is pressed to his neck while he rubs the back of your head. His hips start to do the majority of the thrusting, bucking up into you fervently.

More incoherent strings of words escape you as you melt into his chest. You press a few sloppy kisses to the base of his neck. Despite him taking over, you were still being whiny and squirmy. He knew you were in discomfort, but it should be getting better, right?

“What is it, babydoll? What else do you need?” he coos.

Your head falls back and a sound of general pent up frustration escapes you. Your hips roll into his thrusts in large, needy movements.

“It’s not enough,” you cry, almost near tears from the ache between your thighs, “Need you more. Closer. Need it.”

You tug at his arms trying to get him to wrap them tighter. There wasn’t much Leon could do though. You were already as close as possible, any closer and you wouldn’t be able to move, which he was sure wouldn’t go over well with you. He felt so bad for you though. His sweet baby bunny suffering like this.

He watches you, your weak attempts at getting yourself off by rising and falling on his lap. He can’t take watching you struggle like this. Doing the only thing that could think of, he boosts you up and quickly flips you over.

You’re now pinned beneath him. His toned body is all over yours, heated skin pressed to you in every way. He spreads your arms out and holds your wrists down. His hips are against yours. He’s just grinding into you now, not even pulling out with his thrusts. He was as deep as possible. If this wasn’t enough, he didn’t know what else to do.

“How’s that, pretty girl? Is that how my baby bunny wants it? Wants Daddy nice and deep, ready to spill his cum and breed her cute pussy,” he breathes.

You nod eagerly, eyes rolling back at the relief you felt. This is what you needed. Feeling his weight on top of you, unable to move anywhere else.

“Mhm, this is what you need, sweet baby. You’re gonna take every last drop. Gonna keep it all in to make sure it takes too. If any leaks out, that just means I’ll have to fuck it back in. We’ll just have to go as many times as we need to,” he groans.

“Yes Daddy. Wanna take it all. Gonna be full of your cum for days,” you whimper.

“Yeah you will be. I think that’s what I’ll do from now on. Whenever my baby bunny goes into heat, I’ll have to stay home, make sure to keep you in bed, keep you plugged up full of Daddy at all times. That pretty little head won’t have to think about anything but being bred,” he says.

You just nod again, unable to get proper words out at the minute.

“I feel you squeezing, sweetheart. You getting ready to cum for Daddy?” he coos and reaches up to stroke your ears. He hikes your thighs up more, giving him a deeper angle to drive into you with. You gasp from the change, and your noises get higher as he rams in as much as he can without it being painful.

“Daddy!” you cry out. It’s all you can say. You had more, but it could only come out in the form of that one word right now. He’s all that was on your mind. Daddy daddy daddy.

“Yes, baby. Yes. Daddy’s here. Gonna fill you full of cum and then love on you for the rest of the night,” he purrs, “My baby was so brave, dealing with this all by yourself. But doesn’t it feel so much better when Daddy takes care of you?”

“Mhm, mhm,” you agree quickly.

Your hips start bucking while your body spasms. Leon knew this was it.

“Good girl, baby. Cum whenever you want. Let it feel good baby, get perfect and tight,” he says.

You do just that. You let the release wash over you. You shudder and dig your fingers into his muscles as the feelings bubble over.

“My perfect little bunny,” he praises softly while watching you let go.

It’s not much longer until his cock his pulsing violently within you. He thrusts as hard and as deep as possible before letting out a loud groan and burying his face in your neck.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” he mumbles.

He spills it all inside you, hips twitching and arms locking around you. In the end, you’re both panting. He pulls back a little to kiss your forehead again. He looks down into your eyes.

“How’re you feeling now, sweet girl?” he asks softly.

“Better for now,” you answer. Your head starts to clear and return to its normal state.

He nods and kisses your head again. He rolls over onto his back, scooping you up against his chest while staying inside you. He rubs your back gently.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispers, “Now you see you don’t have to do that alone. You can trust me, sweetheart. I only want to help you. Keep you happy.”

You nod and look up at him lovingly.

“If this is what you need, this is what you need. We can get through it together,” he says softly.

“Together,” you agree softly and scoot up slightly, kissing him gently on the lips.

He smiles big and holds you closer somehow. He leans in for another kiss and another. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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skipper19 · 7 months

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Imagine this..

Gojo absolutely loves the look of his pregnant wife wobbling around the home. He loves it a lot more than he thought he would. Gojo takes so many pictures of you. From the day of the big news, all the way to today.

"Satoru sto-Op!" You squeaked and giggled as you spoke. "I am allowed to dote on my pregnant wife, thank you very much." His low voice spoke very smugly into your ear. Despite your outward complaints, you still looked to the phone sitting on the kitchen counter and smiled. You blinked when the flash went off, and you rubbed your eyes.

"You take too many pictures of me.." You grumble. "Especially when I look like shit." You pouted and rested your hand on your swollen stomach. Gojo gasped and put a hand to his chest. "Shit? You're the most gorgeous woman I have ever met," He leans now and cups your jaw in his hands. "Especially in the mornings." He whispered softly before kissing you. You smiled into the kiss and felt your shoulders relax.

"Mm..if I wasn't already pregnant, I would drag you to bed until I am.." You mumbled happily against his lips. Gojo snickers and rolls his ocean eyes. "Keep talking like that, and I will drag you back to bed, despite already being pregnant." He smirked with lidded eyes. "Even if I'm 5 months pregnant?" You whispered. "Especially when you're 5 months pregnant." He pulled you into a passionate kiss after the words left his lips.

You both didn't leave the bed again until 6 pm.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

Gojo hurriedly washed his hands and ignored grabbing paper towels as he left, deciding to wipe his wet hands off on his pants instead. He was in too much of a rush to care anyway. His pregnant wife was all by her lonesome in the grocery store as he dealt with his bladder problem. He hated to leave you alone. He hated leaving you alone around other people even more.

Gojo sensed your cursed energy in the nearest aisle and quickly returned by your side. He smiled when he spotted you looking at the baby shoes that were huddled in a small pile on the corner of the shelf. Gojos eyes glanced to the clearance sign above the shelf and playfully rolled his eyes. "Didn't I say I wanted our baby girl to have the best quality clothes? Why are we in the clearance section?" He playfully scolded as he leaned his shoulder against the shelf with the shoes.

"Well, I remember saying that it doesn't have to be expensive, as long as it looks adorable on our baby boy." You retorted with a sly smile. Gojo huffed and shook his head. "Our baby girl has the best, strongest, and wealthiest father in all of Japan. I think she deserves to be spoiled." He crossed his arms, making you glance at the faint sight of his veins popping out. Amusement laced his eyes behind the dark shades adorning his handsome face.

"And I think our baby boy will care nothing about being spoiled, as long as it's comfortable." You shot back and quickly looked back down to the pair of shoes in your hand. Gojo felt his heart leap when you placed the boy shoes in the shopping cart before reaching back onto the shelf and grabbing a feminine pair of shoes as well. Gojo pushed himself from the shelf and walked behind you to wrap his arms around your growing belly.

"You are going to be an amazing mother." He whispered softly into your ear. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. "You think so?" You placed your hands onto his. "I really do."

-----------------------------------------------------♤

It didn't take long for Gojo to realize you weren't in bed with him any longer. He was normally hyper aware when you would leave the warmth of his arms at night, but he had been even more of a light sleeper after you hit your 7 month mark.

Gojo didn't want to think of what he would do if something had happened to you.

He threw the covers off of himself before leaving the inviting warmth of the sheets. He quickly makes his way to the kitchen, only to find you quietly sitting at the marble island in the center of the room. You were minding your business as you nibbled away at your odd snack, a soft tune playing from the radio nearby. Gojo always insisted on buying speakers. That way, he could blast music from the TV, but you denied him every time. You always said that the radio was much better.

Gojo sighed and quietly walked up to you, his eyes grazing over your plump form. He couldn't help but smirk. You just looked so lovely as you sat there, munching away on your food, his shirt barely covering your body. Gojo was head over heels in love with you, that was obvious.

"Sneaking away from me just to get you a snack? How rude." Gojo softly said as he pouted. You jumped as his arms snaked around your body. You swatted at his muscular arms and shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Dont sneak up on a pregnant lady! You nearly made me drop my pickles.." You mumbled. Despite your annoyance, your body still leaned back to relax against his warm chest.

Gojo glanced at the food in your hands and resisted the urge to shiver. Pickles and marshmallows. "Mm, I wouldn't want to have to throw that snack away.." You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and plopped the pickle and mini marshmallow in your mouth. "Shuddup."

-----------------------------------------------------♤

"You're doing so good, baby, just a few more pushes." Gojo encouraged you with soft spoken words and swift fingers caressing your hair. You wanted to yell at him to just shut up, but the pain you were feeling inhibited anything other than pained sounds.

Gojo hated seeing you in so much pain. Especially when he couldn't do anything to quell it. "Just one more push." The doctor said. If it weren't for the situation, Gojo knew better than anyone how embarrassed you would be right now. He leaned down closer to your ear. "One more push, sweetheart, and then we can meet our beautiful baby." He whispered softly. You gripped his hand tighter, thankful that his infinity was lowered, his touch grounded you. It kept you sane on a normal day, and you needed him more than ever right now.

"I can't.. I can't!" Your voice was hoarse and weak as you sobbed aloud. Gojo shook his head and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your skin as he spoke. "Yes, you can. I know you can. You're strong, the strongest woman I have ever met, I know you can do this." His words replayed like a symphony. You can do this. You are strong. You can do this. For your baby.

One final push, followed by a shout of pain, led to the cries of your baby echoing in the room. Gojo smiled and gulped down his nerves as he watched the nurses take away his baby to be cleaned.

You weren't in the same condition.

Your ears rang as your head pounded. You know your baby was finally delivered, so why couldn't you hear them? Your glazed eyes panicked to search the room for your child. "Sa-satoru?" Your voice weakly called out. His ocean blue eyes cast down to your face to see the concern and tears. His hand moved from your hair to your face as he wiped away your tears and tilted your gaze to meet his.

"I can't hear them crying. Are they okay?" You hiccuped. Gojos eyebrows furrowed slightly, yet he kept a warm smile on his face. "They are fine, don't worry." He reassured and kissed your sweaty forehead. His eyes glanced to the doctor, only to see a reassuring smile sent back his way. "It's normal for the mother to be disoriented after giving birth. It's a lot of strain on her body." The doctor said quietly.

Gojo sighed and briefly closed his eyes as his lips lingered against your forhead. His attention was directed to the nurse as she walked back with a small bundle in her arms. "Mrs. Gojo," the nurse called softly. Your eyes fell to her, then the bundle of life in her arms. A wobbly smile formed on your lips as you weakly reached out your arms for your baby. The moment the baby was rested against your chest, tears fell from your eyes like a waterfall.

Gojo couldn't help but tear up.

"It's a boy." The nurse spoke up. You tearfully giggled and gently ran your finger over your baby's cheek. "My baby boy.." You mumbled, a soft kiss landing on his head.

After a few moments of skin to skin contact and appreciation, you looked to Gojo. He didn't need you to say a word. He eagerly held his arms out for you to gently place his baby boy in his warm hold. On instinct, the man handled his son with nothing but gentle touch. You just knew he was going to be an amazing father. "God, look at you.. beautiful, just like your mama.." He cooed. You rested your hand on his arm. "Handsome, just like his daddy." You whispered with droopy eyes. He shakily sighed.

This is his family.

-----------------------------------------------------♤

"Thank you.. Thank you so much." Gojo mumbled into your ear. Your mind, despite being fogged, was able to register his words. "F-for what?" You gasped, your nails drawing blood from his pale skin. "For giving me a family." His words reverberated in your spine, causing your ears to tingle and your eyes to close in pleasure.

"I want to be selfish.." He spoke again. His movement picked up speed, quickly sucking the words from your throat. "I want one more. Give me one more -please baby, just one more.." But Gojo has always been a greedy man. One was never enough, and you knew this all too well.. "Please~" He begged, almost pathetically. You moaned aloud and grasped his face in your hands, pulling his lips to your own from where they once were on your neck.

"Give me it, Satoru.. give it to me."

#jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #pregnant reader #fluff #fanfic

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dazed-and-confused23 · 5 days

Text

Quickie

Summary: You, a wondering trader, and he, a ghoul bounty hunter, cross paths and decide to camp together. Nights in the wasteland were dangerous on your lonesome, after all.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings! smut, face sitting, cowgirl position, coming inside

Fluffy part 2 -> HERE

Link to my other fallout works on ao3 -> HERE

The fire illuminates the harsh features of the ghoul across from the flickering flames. He is handsome by ghoul standards, and you feel an ache in your core you've not felt in a long time. You cock your head to the side and debate with yourself, before shrugging in a matter of a couple of seconds. You'd never been picky.

"Wanna fuck?"

Cooper jerks his head up from where he'd been studying the waves in the sand that the wind left behind. He locks eyes with you across the flame, gives you a once over, and then smirks deviously.

"Ain't ever been propositioned in such a way, but why not. You got any rad-away? I'd hate for such a pretty thing to end up lookin' like me," Cooper drawls and leans back on his hands, legs man spread and cocks his head at you when you nod.

"Come 'ere then, Darlin'."

You stand, reaching for the button of your pants and popping them open as you amble over to his side of the camp. You stand before him, and Cooper reaches out to hook his thumbs into your jeans, jerking them down and past your knees. The ghoul tugs one of your shoes off and tugs the jeans off one leg so that they are out of the way. You raise a brow when he stays clothed, confused for a beat before he pats his chest.

"Let's get you wet, Doll. Then you can ride me til the sun comes up."

Your cheek warm, but you aren't about to argue, and so drop to your knees, one leg one on either side of his head. His hands find your hips and guide you forward, and a hiss leaves your throat when his tongue meets your mound. Cooper eats you like this is his last meal, obscene wet noises coming from where he is buried between your thighs.

Cooper smirks when he sucks your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly and causing you to fall forward, hands hitting the sand and destroying the waves. The ghoul doubles his efforts, tongue swirling around your sticky folds and slurping down the mess you make, a groan of his own fading into the night when he tastes you.

Electric heat coils tight in your belly, and you are seconds away from having one of the best orgasms of your life when the ghoul lifts you by the waist and tugs you down. A shout breaks through when his cock drags across your folds and then slams home, his length deep and perfect inside of you.

"Heh, that's it, ride my cock, cowgirl," Cooper rumbles below you and grips your hips, bouncing you up and down, fucking up into your tight cunt every time he drags you back down. Your hands find his shoulders and dig in, holding on for dear life as the ghoul fucks you silly.

Coop drags a hand down from your hip and to your clit, pinching the pulsing bud between two fingers. You snarl silently, pleasure singing up your spine and making you curse colorfully. Cooper laughs under you, and knows you are close by the way your pussy flutters around his dick.

"Come on, baby. Come all over my cock," He snarls and you tip over the edge when he snaps his hips up, pulling you down and burning himself as deep as he could go. Coop rocks into you, and seconds later, you feel splashes of hot cum fill you up, so much that it begins to leak down your thighs.

You take big gulps of air to catch your breath, looking down at the Ghoul with a grin as you rock your hips back and forth.

"Think you can keep it up, old man?" You quip and are rewarded with Cooper rolling the two of you, the ghoul shifting to his knees and grinning meanly down at you.

"Well now, how about we find that out, Darlin'?"

#fallout #fallout tv series #fallout prime #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #x reader #reader insert

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sunboki · 4 months

Text

CYCLE IN, CYCLE OUT. ⎯ a short Minho fiction

Lee Minho x gn. reader

• trope. established relationship, fluffy, comfort

• word count. 0.6k

• notes. felt vv in love w our favorite MC on these 2 kids shows…

Lee Minho had a scheduled routine. He’d arrive from practice, unload his bag, fix himself a drink, and set up at his desk for the night. It was easy, normal. Occasionally, a beloved feline would climb itself into his lap, curled up while the man continued to work for a few more hours.

But, as he slowly opened the door only to witness you, passed out asleep where he usually sat, he can’t help but feel surprised.

And here Minho was thinking his butt was going to be the only thing making an imprint.

Your cheek, smushed into the skin of your forearm earns a quieted coo, his tone amusedly comforting when you grumble your dismay upon being poked. Time and time again he’s reminded of how enamoring you are. …Even when there’s drool smeared on your chin.

“Min…” You whine, half-asleep expression knitting with obvious frustration. He carefully (as if you weighed nothing) rolled the chair back, leaving just enough space that he could fit in between and see you face level.

Ducking down, Minho smiles giddily, head tipped to the side just like Soonie does, curious.

“Mm Bubby? What’re you doing sweetness?” He’d whisper, index tenderly swiping some saliva from off your slightly parted lips.

Good sleep, he thinks, chuckling to himself. You’re too cute for him to handle.

And if you had to name one trait of Minho’s you absolutely adore, right now it’d be is ability to turn on that “lovey-dovey” mode. That sugarcoated, saccharine voice he spoke to the kitties with.

It made you melt, even while barely conscious.

“..Bed…” You say, the words coming out as more of a grumble than anything, though your boyfriend seemed to translate no problem.

“Bed? Is my Y/n sleepy?” He teased, waiting to see if your biting ego takes action to no avail.

Minho, eyes softening, already begins shuffling his arms beneath your elbows, a reassuring peck to the outside of your lips causing you to involuntary grin — one that’s quickly returned.

Wrapping your legs around his waist like a tree-hugging Koala, a sturdy hand finds purchase on the back of your thigh, another sweeping disheveled strands of hair away from your eyes along the way.

You both release loud sighs of utmost relief upon flopping down onto the bed, his fingers nimbly unhooking the clasp of your bra while removing his shirt, allowing either of you supreme comfort. Not sexual nor inviting (not like you had any energy anyway), but familiar, loving.

“Long day?” You muttered, his equally familiar palms slipping beneath your top, simply resting atop your stomach. His groan is enough of an answer, breath deepening, eyelashes dusting closed.

Minho habits most people aren’t aware of? He’s touchy. Touchy in terms of wanting to know you’re there, feel you beside him while he sleeps whether that’s his knee wedged between your legs or a chin nuzzled into your shoulder when you wake up.

You love it. The sore shoulder blades, him kicking you from a nightmare, it’s always enjoyable.

You wouldn’t take it back for the world.

Before he would’ve stayed hunched over work for hours, graced by the enjoyable yet lonesome company of his kitties awaiting an unseen bedtime. Cycle in, cycle out.

Except, the first day you walked into his apartment, that loophole routine changed, drastically.

And for the better.

Like tonight, curled up around you like a protective blanket, his hair tickling the back of your neck, chest flush against the expanse of your bare back.

You understand each other, understand without having to say anything. Unspoken consideration, love. Consuming love.

Hard work, busy schedules, nonstop. But arriving home and finding you filling that once empty space, you who he loved with everything in his being, made everything feel worth it.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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cr4yolaas · 2 months

Text

not strong enough — miya osamu

notes: based off of “not strong enough” by boygenius <3

tags: reverse comfort, cheating implications (no actual cheating), self-deprecation + jealousy (osamu), super heartfelt tho

osamu hadn’t been home lately.

the kitchen was devoid of heart and soul. gone was the warmth that seeped into the apartment at his presence, or the comfort that his voice provided as it wafted through the halls. you didn’t see nor feel him anymore, save for the few glimpses of him getting ready before the sun could even greet your windowsill.

miya osamu was disappearing from your life, and you could do nothing but prepare for it.

you instantly feared the worst — that he was planning to leave you, or that he was seeking solace in another, or anything else that involved him separating himself from the life he built in your shared home. and so, delusion after delusion fed into one another, thus leading to an overwhelming bubble of anxiety that infected every inch of your bones.

when you had finally seen him — not just witnessed his shadow in the darkness of a lonesome bedroom — he appeared as if he had just barely dragged himself home. his skin hung heavy under his eyes, his hair was oily and tousled, his hands seemingly obtained an impossible amount of callouses and burns and scratches. you did not say a word, fearful for his response. instead, you held him in your arms in the doorway as he collapsed to the floor, the buckle of his knees bringing you down with him.

you could hear the remnants of an apology muttered into your shirt (his shirt, truthfully).

“what was that, ‘samu?” you whispered, your voice barely reaching his ears.

he turned his head to look to the side with his cheek still firm on your shoulder. “don’t ya ever wish things were different?”

his voice was hoarse; it was littered with exhaustion and pain and misery that you could not begin to understand. his question nestled itself deep into your lungs. you weren’t entirely sure what he was asking.

“a life where you’re living comfortably … and you’re free to do whatever your want …” he began to trail off, his features lined with sleepiness. “didn’t ya ever want that?”

you began to rub circles around his back, which was damp from the sweat that accumulated beneath his work uniform. you were waiting patiently for him to say it — to tell you to go pursue greater things to conceal his desire to rid himself of you, or that he didn’t deserve you because he had committed an act of betrayal. but instead, he continued, “‘tsumu’s doing great things … ‘n he’s rich ‘n happy ‘n famous and so much more. but what about me? what have i done?”

his words dissipated gradually. the cracks in his voice exposed him quite easily, not to mention the teardrops staining your skin. “you’ve done more than enough for me, ‘samu. i’m sorry i didn’t make you feel that way.” your boyfriend only gripped onto your harder, as if he were scared you would melt away if he didn’t.

“i jus’ wanna make you happy. i’m not sure if my job can even do that,” he muttered. “i’m trying to work harder at the shop, but i’m scared it isn’t enough.”

if it were situationally acceptable, you would have heaved a heavy sigh of relief. but it was not — so instead, you began to hold him impossibly tighter. “you don’t need to work so hard for me to love n’ appreciate you. everything about you is enough to make me happy,” you spoke softly to him. “as long as you’re by my side, i’m happy.”

miya osamu, despite his intricacies, was a delicate man at heart. that night, as you held him at the front door, the porcelain shell concealing his truest soul had shattered.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu osamu #osamu haikyuu #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu angst #osamu smut #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu haikyuu #atsumu miya

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ghoularaki · 3 months

Text

tw: coercion, noncon, drugging, infantilization, subtle misogyny

gojo doesn't understand you.

all the years you were acquaintances, he simply couldn't wrap his head around your behavior. he couldn't tell if you were scared or just a prude. like come on, how are you both in your twenties and still claimed to not have any want to have sex?

don't get gojo wrong, he thought you were pretty, pretty enough to grab his attention. gojo could have any woman but for some reason you tugged at and occupied his brain. he deduced it was simply because you were still a virgin despite you only being a couple years younger than him.

this wasn't hidden knowledge as you were very upfront about it. for someone with an aversion for sex, you sure talked about it a lot. this is why gojo couldn't get you. shouldn't people like you be more bashful and shy around topics like that?

the way you would giggle at dirty jokes or even making your own more raunchy than what he said almost made him wince. the fantasy of you being completely and utterly clueless, and at gojo's whim was frequently shattered. he couldn't stand how you talked such big game for someone who's never had their cherry popped.

from across the table, gojo watched you from over the rim of his drink. your own clasped in your hand, you collapsed into utahime after she said something surely not as funny as you were making it seem. you sure were a light-weight.

tapping his finger against the glass, gojo decided to step in.

"alright ladies, i think it's time i take this one," he had a lopsided grin on his face as he pointed a thumb at your inebriated state.

"but gojo, we just started," you pouted up at him, still clinging to utahime.

easily he pries you from the other woman's form and you instead latch onto him. utahime tells you to text her when you're home safe, and you wave her off.

"i'm in the hands of the strongest," you fake swoon. "i'm sure i will be fine."

gojo smirks, but not for the reason you think.

surprisingly, it was not hard at all to get you to come back to his apartment. sure it's not the first time you've been there, but typically you were accompanied by others. you were with that sloshed or a little too trusting of him. either way, it benefitted him in the end.

"let's set you on the couch," gojo maneuvers you so you were strewn across the cushions, head rested on the arm.

still drunk, you paid no mind to gojo going off into the kitchen. humming to himself, he pours you a cup of juice and reaches into his pocket. he has been waiting to do this for a long time. unbeknownst to you, the sorcerer slipped a little surprise into your drink.

"sit up and drink this," he came over and loomed over you.

too out of it question him, you happily sit up and take the cup from him. you gulp it all down and hum at the sweetness.

sure you drank it all, gojo sits next you, pulling your legs over his lap. idly he brushed his long fingers over your exposed shins. you didn't question it as gojo was always a very touchy person. plus the motions were lulling you to sleep.

then it started. heat washed over your body like a fever. a deep ache in your core from out of nowhere. squirming, you whined as gojo touching you didn't help your prediciment.

"what's wrong?"

"i'm hot," you slurred.

"it must be the alcohol, lets get you to bed so you're more comfortable."

unable to protest, gojo picks you up in a bridal carry with no struggle. your head resting on his chest offered you no solace, only making you whine more.

never in your life have you felt this... horny, to be blunt. especially over someone like gojo. sure, he was beautiful, but he was your friend. even in your lonesome, you never got this aroused. you were confused and the liquor in your system just made things all the more fuzzy.

pathetically, you whine as gojo rested you on top of his bedding. he doesn't depart from you, if anything he surrounds you more. gojo sat by your hips with his torso twisted to have his arms bracket your head.

"aww what's wrong?" he pouts with concern. but his tone feels so condescending.

unable to resist, you rubbed your thighs together in hopes to relieve the ache. brows twisted, you looked up at gojo who at some point forgone his glasses.

this is exactly what gojo had been imagining for years. you, under him, dewy-eyes and helpless. his eyes couldn't stay in one place, going from how you bite your lip to stifle your noises or how your legs rubbed together for even the tiniest bit of pleasure.

"does the little baby need help?" he knew he was laying it on thick, but he couldn't help but mock you.

you acted so tough, like you didn't need to get fucked, like you didn't need him. and yet, here you are, grasping at him for any resolve.

"please," you whimpered, tears brimming your eyes. at this point it hurt and you wanted it to be gone.

gojo smiled wide. in no time he had both you and him stripped down bare. fuck, you were cuter than he expected. kneeling between your legs, he had a hand under your knee, forcing it up to your chest. on display was your pulsing pussy and puffy clit.

thanks to the drug you were already wet enough for him. but he couldn't help but be a tease. his free hand danced from your slit up to your clit and back down, dipping to the rim of your asshole.

"you're so out of it, you would let me play here with no questions asked."

with the slick gathered and dripping down from your hole, he slathered it all over the puckered muscles.

"but then your poor pussy would be neglected. another time then."

long fingers went back up to your pussy and slid into the unbreeched hole. your back arched at finally being filled. after what felt like hours, you sucked in his fingers, relieved. there was no pain as his thrust in and out at a leisure pace.

your brain was completely wiped clean. all you cared about was getting rid of the empty feeling in your core.

hips bucking, you chased his fingers, wanting him to hit that spongy spot inside you. gojo couldn't have been more elated. he was rendering the prudish you into a slutty, desperate mess.

cock drooling with precum, he decide to get to the main event.

actual tears cascaded down your face as you sobbed from him pulling his fingers from your cunny. gojo shushed you and tapped his cockhead against your neglected clit.

"don't worry pretty girl, i'm going to fill you up nice and full."

dumbly nodding, your gaze never left gojo as he forced his way in. a gasp caught in your chest as his thick head popped inside the ring of muscles. your cunt instantly clenched around the large, foreign object. gojo collapsed onto his elbow from your warm walls beckoning him in further.

not caring if he's causing you any pain, he bullied his way in further until his pelvic bone hit your clit. looking down, he saw his cock causing a small bulge in your belly. gojo couldn't help but laugh. how many other men were going to be able to fill you to the brim and more like he did? how nice of him to show you how it is to be properly fucked.

resting more of his weight on you, he swung his hips to fuck in and out of you in tandem. you were going to take every inch no matter if it hurt or not. the drug and alcohol made you so sloppy all you did was moan and whine. your eyes blearily looked at him, but he could tell you had no clue what you were actually seeing.

"did i fuck you stupid, already?" he groaned.

again you nodded and wrapped your arms further around his broad shoulders. gojo bent down to put his face in your neck, biting along the column of your throat.

"c-close."

he laughed again the skin. his hot breath made your spine tingle. "really?"

"yes!" you cried when he angled his hips to repeatedly abuse your g-spot.

your neglected clit begged for attention. you just wanted to cum. squirming against gojo, you tried to get him to brush against it in anyway possible. desperate you pleaded, "t-touch me."

"i am touching you."

you vehemently shake your head, "please! touch my clit, i n-need it. please, satoru, please!"

your babbles had gojo lose his rhythm. you never called him by his first name and hearing it with your broken voice did things to him. you were going to be the death of him.

listening to your pleas, gojo slid his hand down to rest on your thigh to swirl and twiddle your clit. as your walls spasmed around him, his thrust got more sloppy and untimed. unable to stop himself, he gave a few more thrusts and then smooshed his hips firm to yours as he came deep into your cunt. moaning at the warmth filling you, you came around him.

gojo with no shame, moaned just as loud. the tone breathy and deep. at the end, his voice hitched as you continued to clench around him, sucking him dry. with a couple more weak thrusts, gojo pulled out from you.

you whined at being empty and also the cooling cum dribbled out your raw cunny. despite being thoroughly fucked you still felt achy. as gojo departed from you, things become a little more clear.

"finally coming down to earth?" the man asked, approaching the bed with a warm cloth.

tears bubbled up again, but for a different reason.

seeing your distraught face, gojo pouted, "aww you poor thing. don't worry, we have all the time in the world for you to realize how big of a favor i'm doing you. ya know, since you aren't leaving anytime soon."

#yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere satoru gojo #yandere #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader

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love-bitesx · 10 months

Note

im word vomiting my headcanon list and id love to hear what you think!

*hobie gifting things that he finds to his partner like a crow. i can imagine they'd just randomly turn up, either on a desk or like they'll just find it in their bag or pocket, or that he'd just walk of and just hand it to them with no word *hobie fell for his partner hard, though he kept it pretty well hidden from everyone except pav starts calling his 'loverboy', eventually the nickname catches on to the point his future partner starts using it as well(either b/c they like it and thay're oblivious or they know exactly whats going on and are teasing him about it) *loves playful banter *nicknames for daaaaaays with his partner *hobie getting serious with a partner would be him gifting them something important, first thoughts are either a guitar pick of his or one of his favorite rings (its the most worn one he has, a simple metal one that you can literally feel the love thats gone into it. somehow it fits his partners finger perfectly)

i may be back with more, until then i salute you!

i agree with ur hc’s so much!! this is how i hc & tend to write hobie so, 100%! pls don’t hesitate if u think of anymore hehe

i’d love to expand! ~

- giving you gifts, to him, is like the ideal expression of love.

- because basically all of them are stolen, it’s a combination of his favourite things; stealing from big corporations, and seeing the beaming, heart-warming smile on your face when you open your bag and see a tiny trinket wrapped in newspaper.

- everytime you would come home, you’d find a new little addition to the house somewhere – notably: necklaces, rings, tiny ceramic statues or wooden decorations, pens, music (cd’s, vinyls, etc.) – especially if he’s been to camden market that day, his pockets would be full for you.

- when he started to fall for you, he low-key thought he was coming down with the flu.

- whenever you were around, his heart would flutter, his head dizzy and palms sweating – he considered getting medicine, until pavitr pointed something out.

- “how are you, loverboy?”

- “eh? you talking to me, pav?”

- “of course, hobie! little loverboy”

- “did you hit your head, bro?”

- pavitr would explain that he’d noticed hobie’s eyes glued to you whenever you spoke, hanging onto every word like gospel, and the way he flustered when you touched him, how he’d do anything in his power to be in your personal space.

- “shit.”

- “no! this is a good thing, my friend! love is the most bea—”

- “shit.”

- days went past of hobie avoiding you, he’d never been in love before, and it was scary to him

- his brain was only thinking of you, and he hated that he liked it. he hated that he wished for every thought to be of you.

- and he hated that he could see your body deflate when he avoided you, hated that your eyes looked sad when he turned away

- he hated that he liked loving you

- until, you caught him on his own one day, he was minding his business, relaxing on his lonesome whilst the others hung out in different dimensions.

- “hey, loverboy”

- a deer in headlights wouldn’t even come close to the shock on his face

- “loverboy?”

- loverboy? you were calling him loverboy?

- “yeah, loverboy, that’s you, isn’t it?”

- in all fairness, you were completely oblivious to the reason behind it – pav had simply just started calling him it when hobie wasn’t around, and it stuck

- “i-i guess so”

- clearing his throat, he willed his confidence back to the surface

- “you can call me anything you want, sweetheart”

- it wasn’t long before you were together, a gentle, but spontaneous kiss after a particularly dangerous mission one day sealing the deal between you both

- he was obsessed with you

- now he could be obvious about his feelings, he took that and ran with it

- his arm was essentially glued to your side, or over your shoulders, or anywhere where he could pull you in close to him

- he’d grab you by the belt buckles, dragging you towards him and welcoming you with a soft peck on the lips

- even in public, almost especially in public

- always have his hands in your back pockets, he says he hates the cliché-ness of it but he likes that he can hold you close whilst respecting your personal space – and he can feel your ass, but he doesn’t admit that outloud

- THE NICKNAMES.

- THE. NICKNAMES.

- this man is born and bred british, and over here we use nicknames more than actual names

- darling, sweetheart, love, lovely, all of those AND more are natural to him, anyway

- but he adds a special little “my” before them all now, now that you actually are his, and so “my darling”, “my love”, etc. are like a second name to you

- in bed, the nicknames would be even better, but i’ll leave that to your imagination…

- when things started getting a little serious, you’d been dating for months, all your friends and colleagues knew about him, your family as well (if you decide to tell them)

- you’re relaxing in hobie’s dimension, laying on his bed with your head on his shoulder, reading a book whilst he strums at his guitar softly. he’s humming a song you don’t recognise, but the sound of his deep melody was enough to lull you.

- “hey, love?”

- you hum in response

- “i wanna give you something.”

- sitting you up, he’d lay his guitar down and face you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to him

- “what are you—”

- he’d fiddle with his own hands for a second, before twisting his favourite ring off his index finger

- “here.”

- “hobie, are you—”

- “i’m not proposing, don’t worry. weddings are just a social nuisance that give us one more way to control each other. no. this is better.”

- you tilt your head and watch him, as he slides his ring onto your middle finger

- “it’s just a promise.”

- “a promise?”

- “a promise that i love you, and that i’m yours, innit.”

- “oh, hobie.”

- you cry a tiny bit

- and he hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead

- that’s when he knew it was serious with you, not only because of how he was so obsessed with you, and his heart melted at your touch, but because when he saw you with the ring on, his ring, his person, it just felt right. he didn’t ever wanna see you without it, or without him.

- “hey, hobie, did you mean what you said about marriage? you don’t wanna marry me one day?”

- “hey, i said i hate weddings. nothing about marriage. not if we do it our own way, you know?”

i love him so much. also pls stick around, couple of one shots & fics will be out this week!!! sorry they’re taking ages hehe

#hobie brown x you #hobie brown #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobie #spiderpunk #spider punk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #across the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #love bitesx

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tender-rosiey · 10 months

Text

“AND MY HEART SCREAMS: IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU”

— the moment dazai, chuuya, kunikida, fyodor, nikola, ranpo, and fukuzawa knew they wanted to spend their entire life with you

DAZAI OSAMU: the moment he revealed his scars to you—scars that told of the past, details of the past, details that he thought he would never reveal. there were multiple outcomes, but his lonesome heart forced him to expect only one: you getting disgusted and perhaps even refusing to stay any longer. he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

so imagine his surprise when your eyes held nothing but sympathy and the utmost tenderness as you gently kissed his scars and whispered only one sentence, ‘I just wanted to be able to be by your side then’. what was he supposed to do other than pull you close and embrace you tightly, burying his face in your hair to hide a face that failed this once to master the mask?

NAKAHARA CHUUYA: when you went out of your way to prepare an unwinding night for the both of you. chuuya loves his with his entire heart and trusts with his entire being. and he sometimes doesn’t know just what to expect from people. so seeing you put so much effort into ensuring his happiness and your own had a certain hold on his heart.

he loves you unconditionally so when you responded to that love with the same intensity, he couldn’t help but gravitate towards you even more. he falls harder, but you’re there to catch him a smile. he approaches you, unaware of what will slip out of his mouth—a desire that has been on his mind for far longer that he thinks, “marry me,” he whispers, gentle and hopeful eyes looking at your own.

KUNIKIDA DOPPO: he is a man who sticks to his ideals and those ideals are to protect others not himself. it pained you, seeing him so ready to sacrifice himself to try and follow up to said ideals till the end. so you held his hand, crying about how you don’t want him to be so careless with himself and that your heart can’t handle seeing him choose his own death as a solution anymore.

he found himself breaking down and pulling you into a tight embrace, constantly murmuring ‘I am sorry’ with kisses pressed on top of your head and reassuring that he will always stay with you. your hold on him doesn’t falter as you feel his tears and he feels his heart getting even more fond of you, his dear true love.

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY: entertainment is something he loves, but it surprises him when he can’t handle entertainment at your expense. when he goes through his plans, even when the most ‘fun’ option involves you, he doesn’t choose it. he finds himself unable to put you in danger he knows he can avoid.

he doesn’t fight the place you have acquired in his heart; instead, he goes to you and his head finds home on your lap. his hand caresses your own and he looks at you with longing like you’re the epitome of what he truly wants for himself. a gentle whisper of your name and you look towards him and he finds sanctity in your gaze. the true form of purity: your love that he succumbs to and accepts as a part of his being.

NIKOLAI GOGOL: when you showed him that you truly understand or even try to him. you don’t call him a maniac or a monster; instead, you smile patiently, heart open for him, and ask him to tell you more. and he does. words spill out of his mouth in an unbelievable speed, thoughts—a jumbled mess—are thrown into the air and you listen.

emotions—the shackles of humans—overwhelm him in a way that he is surprised that he doesn’t hate. His legs grow weak and he falls at your feet, screaming, crying, and repeating a mantra of I love you. when he does calm down, he takes your hand and puts it on his face. he is now held back by love, shackled by you. he knows and he—somehow—doesn’t mind. he just sinks deeper.

EDOGAWA RANPO: when you slept in the office, beside him, while he was planning their next move. it is not often that ranpo actually works. so, it wouldn’t have made him upset if you left because with all his confidence, he values your smile the most. but you stayed, you always did. ‘y/n, you can go back home you know,’ he had murmured, patting your head with a small grin, but you just told him to shut up and you cuddled closer to him.

it’s not the first time you hugged, but, for some reason, this certain hug had him tightening his arms around you before shouting about how he needs to get done quicker so his sleeping beauty can rest properly with an undeniably lovesick and joyful grin on his face.

FUKUZAWA YUKICHI: when you patted his head with a murmur that you trust him. in the eyes of others, it is ultimately meaningless and silly. yet, to him, that single gesture meant the world. and behind closed doors, he rests at ease, knowing his heart is in your hands.

he dotes on others like a strict father, yet when the same affection and trust is thrown at him, he can’t help but smile helplessly while you stroke his hair and pull him close. he also feels his heart set ablaze when he sees you laughing and pulling on his hand, wanting him to join whatever fun you’re having. and he follows you, like he always did and always will—with a smile so serene it tugs at your own heart.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @waosobii @nanamikentoseyebags

do not copy or plagiarize or I will dislocate your shoulders

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ladybirdswritings · 4 months

Text

Bound - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: Miguel O’Hara was never known to be a man wanting. He was beyond content with the power surging through him upon his multiversal throne. That is until he lays his hungry eyes upon you. Now, he will do whatever it takes just for the taste of you… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3

Notes: I couldn’t stop myself from this hades and persephone-esque fic so I hope you enjoy!! SW&P is far lighter if you desire that <3

next chap

one

Morning is a sweet greeting to you, warm and incandescent to shine it’s rays upon soft skin. As it always is. Though you find it to be dreary on days like this, as it is the same as the day prior, and the day prior to that day. As if it is not sparkling gold but shadowing gray.

All the same repetitive waltz for you.

Yet to your unknowing mind, much would change within the quick hour. Change not in the way of little things but rather in the way that would make your toes curl and your eager hands grab your tresses so you might not trip upon them on your dash toward the tallest hills.

You would have run had you known what was to come.

Yet you didn’t; and so? Your morning was quite a bore.

Similar to a zombie are your sunken cheeks and coffee kissed eyes decorated with awful bags. Your toothbrush is made of oak as is your boar-bristled comb. You tend to your prettying before slipping away from the hustle and bustle of a lively home. Four sisters and two brothers you sport, and an overbearing woman you dare to call your mother.

You made routine of this. Sneaking away with the latest print picked up from the small shop next to the apothecary in town. Out the oak wood door and past the burnt toast and meat to cuddle yourself comfortably against your favored weeping willow by the bend.

Your only company is the ducklings these days, though you don’t mind them much. They are mostly quiet beyond the occasional quack.

Serenity became you as you lay there in the remnants of springtime’s shadow, willfully sprouted in peonies and lilac blossoms.

Your print is a work of Austen, an old and worn thing but one you’d found comfort in recently. It would be your fourth time revisiting.

Would… however.

“Oh heavens sakes! You must enjoy making your mother walk upon tousled soil, girl! Have you got half a mind!? I don’t presume so otherwise you’d avoid any possibility of me losing a leg!”

A whine like that of a carnaged cat rings out from behind the bend. In the grassy plains your mother struggles her way toward you. You stand to your feet in swift motion, but your wandering eye finds curiosity in an unfamiliar bloom. Its colors an odd pairing of red and blue unfurled toward the sun.

What an odd thing, you think.

The huffing and puffing snaps your attention center, and you nearly grumble in complaint as you hurry toward your mother.

“Mama I was just—”

“Oh save it. I see you slip out each morning, I know full well your disdain for the company of your own family… but I didn’t come here to admonish you, sweet girl. Quite the opposite in fact. I am here to ask a favor of you. It seems the cold air has made our chickens most unwilling to provide us with eggs. Won’t you go in town and gather some?”

Like the rainfall’s mist caught by breath of wind, your hopes and plans of reading in the bend till dawn have dissipated. Pursing your lips, you nod— not wanting to administer a guaranteed headache at wake of your protest.

In to town you’ll venture.

✧*̥˚ … *̥˚✧

The cobblestone is cracked underneath your boot, as it is dampened by springtime’s departured mist. You like the clicking sound, though it is most lonesome at this ungodly hour.

The house cannot be run well with lack of your aid. Father left long ago and mother is just a dreadful housewife. The doctor blames her dissonance on the ailments within her mind’s confines though— she swears herself always to be whole and well.

Regardless, for the sake of your sisters— you help. Besides this, you owe it to her.

Your basket is made of weaved wicker and adorned with crimson cloth, at the end of the cobble is where life shines proud. A more lively gathering of townsfolk in search of early morning eggs to enjoy with their breakfast.

A single carriage, outdated as the things are, surges forward in an unstable command by a young man. He cannot be past twenty three, and his face is speckled with pale freckles. His hair is a burnt orange rasp.

The stallions are dark as midnight, sweat being huffed like chimney smoke from their nostrils. Dear god, the way he commands them is certain to ensure an accident.

You tuck the thought away in to the back of your mind to be focused upon your task. You’ll need no more than a dozen or perhaps three what with the vacuum cleaner your eldest brother refers to as his mouth.

Babblebrooke, it is where you’ve lived most your orphaned life. Surely some places have technology of picture books and magazines you skim through when you are awarded the rare chance but— you find yourself content with a place so simple.

You cannot imagine a life of loudness, no quiet space to tuck away and read. It’s a frightening thought.

The stand is nearby, only a few more passing steps and you’ll reach it. Your eyes are locked on the fresh berries, but you know full well you won’t have enough for them.

A bark startles you out of your trance, one excited and pointed. You jump at the sound and turn your head to find a cocker spaniel hound circling round and round to chase its own tail. You giggle at the sight, and its chestnut ears raise in alarm at the vibration.

Oh, it’s noticed you.

The little thing hobbles over excitedly, and you cannot help but bend on your knee to brush back its silken locks.

Beyond a canvas collar of pale pink lays a heart, engraved in molten silver the title: “Lyla.”

So she belongs to someone. Such a kind thing, they are to be a lucky companion indeed.

You smooth back the hair from her excited eyes before lifting to your feet again and continuing forward. She begins to follow you, but a movement in the alleyway shadows is a matter she finds far more pressing for her attention.

“Lyla…” you test in a whisper as you make your way behind a man hunched and gray— awaiting his eggs for breakfast.

Time seems agonizing and the line moves awfully slow, you peek behind the elder man to find annoyance laced in the eyes of the townsfolk. Blaire has taken a liking to the farm boy— it seems she’s busying herself with conversing nonsense with his mother rather than picking her fresh fruits for tart pastries.

You sigh, checking the time on your cracked, golden watch with impatience brewing at the soles of your boots. You sway on them, shifting your weight forward and back. No use just staring ahead.

Though it is quite loud, it doesn’t stop you from reaching in to your tote for “Jane Eyre.”

You find your favorite part, their first midnight meeting in the hallway. How romantic it is, you only wish that to be a possibility for you one day. You forbid yourself from joining the season of course but somewhere tucked away inside— you wonder how marvelous it would be for a broody and handsome thing to appear upon your doorstep with a bouquet the size of France.

You grin at the thought. Though it is swiftly interrupted by the quick patter of familiar paws.

“Woah! Easy!”

Your head snaps up at the gasps of those around you, and you are most horrified to see that the horses have reached the steep bend mere steps away. The ginger fool, they halt in warning and he kicks at them— slapping them with a russet pole. They comply, and the carriage loses control.

It creaks, hurling forward and disconnecting from its rusted shell. Tumbling at godspeed down the cobble and straight for little Lyla who lays mindlessly and happily on her back now.

Panic surges, and your eyes find worry in everyone’s features and yet no motive to act alongside it. Such cowardly men, allowing the poor thing to succumb to the bite of freak nature and cruel fate.

You won’t allow it. Though you feel frozen, the sharp and desperate shout of “Lyla!” from a phantom voice is enough to snap you back into the most horrible moment present.

“Christ!” You breathe, tossing Jane Eyre to the sapphire sky before surging forward. The carriage stalls on a pebble for a quick moment and it’s enough time for you to beat it by a mere step. You scoop the silly thing into your arms and as the wheel just grazes your skin— it is you now that is saved from immediate death.

A warm hand tugs at your wrist and you’re certain the brick wall has grown awfully large palms and fingers; for what you slam up against is hard and unpleasant.

You grunt, Lyla yelping in surprise where she is tucked up tightly against your chest.

Whistles and claps overtake the coward crowd and you sway upon your own boots as the wind itself makes you unsteady with its light graze. Firm palms steel you, grasping your shoulders tight to keep you together and well.

Your eyes venture on an upward path to find two crimson pupils imploring your features as if they are etched in stone and stored away in a beloved museum somewhere in Rome.

Brows pinched and quite bushy, eyes cold but curious, his reddened orbs search your face for what feels like a millennium. Fascinated.

Awed.

You blink, and the cry of the sweet creature in your arms breaks the trance you were entangled in. Lyla leaps from your arms and onto the cobble path— and you only huff and reach a weak arm toward her before the exhaustion of a skipped meal and your adrenaline fueled actions bring you to sit on the cobble ground.

He kneels beside you, the stranger. Yet you cannot find yourself mustering enough energy to truly examine his face. Just his eyes, rare things they are.

“She’ll be alright.” He whispers, hands still pleasantly upon your shoulders as if he fears you’ll topple over and shatter once he parts.

When you do lift your gaze however, stricken curious by the sickly silken sound of his voice, he’s gone.

“Thank y-”

The word croaks in your throat, and you can only wonder how it was possible… how quickly the phantom left you upon the cobble. The farm boy rushes over soon, much to the demise of poor Blaire. She stares on at the carriage and ginger man as if she wishes it was her nearly trampled.

He hands you fresh water and berries, and you wave his concern away and the crowd’s curiosity with a weak hand.

Your mind is only glued upon one thing.

The phantom.

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019 @cybersry

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amberlynnmurdock · 4 months

Text

Neighbor Pt. 3

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt hears her come home from a date, and interrupts when he hears it go south.

Words: just above 2k

A/N: So this series is basically different excerpts, so the chapters may not fall right into each other if that makes sense... so here's another night of them being neighbors! Hope you enjoy :)

Genres: light angst, comfort, fluff

Part 2

Matt came home to a quiet and cold apartment. After jiggling his keys in the lock a few times, his musty old door finally opened, and he was met with the cool draft that came in from his even older windows. Pushing the door closed with his back, he sighed deeply and dropped his suitcase on the floor. He hung his head low.

Today was long. Too many papers at the office, too many people to talk to… or maybe, the night before, he spent too much time out as Daredevil and barely got any sleep. Or maybe he had trouble falling asleep. Matt wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. He was finally home.

It seemed like everyone else in the building had livelier apartments than he did—he could smell spaghetti from an apartment below him, with jazz music playing in the background. Another apartment had children laughing at a cartoon. Another one was having guests over for dinner. Even Fran, the apartment’s snoop, had brownies in the oven. Of course—it was Friday night, and people like them had plans.

Their apartments were all warm and inviting. But not his. It was cold and empty, and nothing played in the background—only these heightened sounds in his ears and his thoughts. His ever so dreadful thoughts.

But what about hers?

He cocked his head against the door to listen closely to her apartment. What was she doing? Nothing seemed to be going on. No tea was on the kettle. Not even the sound of pages being turned in a book. She wasn’t home.

Matt furrowed his brows at this—he knew she had the morning shift today because they had their usual morning greeting and walked each other out. Part of him was disappointed he couldn’t share his lonesome with her, but the other part felt guilty because, of course, she had plans. While Matt was reclusive and preferred the dark, she was friendly, inviting, and liked to be out. Why would she waste her radiance on being locked up in her apartment?

So, Matt did what he normally did. Instead of being at home alone with his thoughts, he changed into his Daredevil gear and waited on his rooftop for something, anything, to call for him. Eventually, it did, but something was missing tonight.

***

He wasn’t out for long.

He was missing punches, throwing them too soon, otherwise just overall thrown off. Something was off. After stopping a robbery, and nearly taking a bullet to his shoulder, Matt tapped out. He sulked in his gear all the way home and stomped down the steps from his roof, back to his cold and empty apartment.

It was nearly midnight. Some people in the building were awake, and others getting ready for bed. And still, she wasn’t home.

Is she okay?

Matt pushed any thought of worry away. Pushed any thought or feeling of attachment away. After all, she was just his neighbor. His neighbor who sometimes said hello to him, who sometimes dropped a book off in braille for him. Not his emotional support neighbor. Just a neighbor, whom Matt couldn’t keep himself from listening to her calming presence.

So what if he liked her anyway, just a little bit?

She would never get involved with a complicated man like him, who held so many secrets and even more baggage.

Plus, they were neighbors. It could neverwork out.

Matt immediately stripped himself of his Daredevil gear and stepped into a hot, steaming shower, to wash these thoughts of her away. Wash this awful night away. Wash the dried blood on his skin away.

He lay in his bed, silk sheets sprawled over his half-naked body. He had his hands behind his head on his pillow, senseless eyes staring up at the ceiling. The building was winding down, finally. No loud conversations, no ovens beeping. Just people getting into bed and soft snores.

And then, he heard it.

The front door of the building unlocked. Footsteps make their way up the stairs. That familiar and therapeutic scent of warm vanilla filled his senses. Finally, she was home.

But she wasn’t alone.

“I had a good time tonight,” he heard her say on her way up the stairs. Heavy footsteps followed closely behind her. Matt listened to her heartbeat and furrowed his brows—she wasn’t telling the truth.

“Me too,” a smooth, masculine voice said. “Are you sure you don’t want to have some coffee?”

“Oh yeah,” she said nervously, masked by a high-pitched tone. She was being overly nice. Cautious. “We had so much food at that restaurant. I’m stuffed. I’m honestly ready for bed,” she laughed, again, a quiver in her laugh. Matt sat up on his elbows as he listened closely.

“Me too,” the man repeated, in a tone Matt didn’t like. Conniving. Entitled. There was an underlying message.

“Well, here’s my place,” she announced, placing a hand on her door. Matt noticed she often forgot to grab her keys when she was nervous. Matt had made her nervous that one morning, but nothing like this. She was… uncomfortable now. She wanted this man to leave. “You didn’t have to walk me up.”

And there it is.

“I wanted to,” he said, leaning against her door, blocking her from the lock. “I thought maybe you could show me the inside.”

“I, uh,” she stammered, fidgeting for her keys unsuccessfully. “I don’t know, it’s late…”

In an instant, Matt throws on a shirt, gray sweatpants, and his dark glasses and hurriedly walks to his door to meet her and this stranger in the hallway. This stranger who won’t leave her alone, who takes the hint and ignores it, this stranger who’s making his neighbor uncomfortable.

Her heart leaps when she sees Matt suddenly coming outside his door, brown hair disheveled and a smile on his face.

“Matt!” She exclaimed. “I’m sorry, was I loud?”

“Not at all,” Matt smiled through gritted teeth. “Just thought I forgot my mail. That’s all. What are you up to?”

“Um…”

“We’re on a date,” the man states plainly. Matt pretends to be shocked, that he didn’t know someone else was there. He feigns surprise and lifts his eyebrows.

“Oh,” Matt said, “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“There’s no mail,” the man said curtly, clearly upset that Matt interrupted whatever it was he had planned. “You can go back into your apartment now.” An icy tone.

Matt took a step forward, eyebrows tightening, jaw clenched. He wants to tell this man that he can break every bone in his body. He wants to tell him that if he ever hears him in this building again, he’ll make him beg for mercy. He listens to the man's body muscles tightening, his heart rate is fast in anger. Whatever his plans with her were, they weren’t pure.

But Matt remembers she’s here, witnessing this, scared. He doesn’t want to be whatever that man is. He wants to show her he cares enough about her to walk out of his apartment at midnight and save her from whatever is happening.

So, instead of answering the man with a threat, he looks in her direction—concern etched in his expression, care in his voice.

“Is everything all right?” Matt asks her.

She shakes her head, mistakenly. She quivers a weak “no.”

The man stood menacingly over her. If she didn’t open her door for him, he’d manipulate her into doing it eventually. And Matt was interrupting his plan, he knew it. The man didn’t like that. Well, Matt wasn’t going anywhere until he left her alone.

He walks up to Matt, close enough so they’re standing face to face. Matt can smell the rum on his breath, which reeked with bad intentions. His hands turned to fists as the man began to speak whatever bullshit threat he tried to come up with. But Matt cuts him off.

“If you don’t leave this apartment in the next thirty seconds, I will have Detective Brett Mahoney and the entire 15th Precinct outside for your arrest for harassment and intimidation. Or worse—I’ll have the apartment snoop named Fran come out and scare you herself. Have I made myself clear?” Matt spoke through gritted teeth, keeping his voice calm and even.

The man was looking at Matt like he really had the nerve—and he did. She stood there, watching this all unfold, wanting nothing more than to lock herself in her apartment and shut her phone off for a week.

He stared Matt down, trying to find any glare behind his dark red glasses. All he saw was his angry expression in the reflection. How can he be intimidating to a blind man? Matt is blind to an extent, but he’s not blind to people with malicious intentions.

All he does is scoff at Matt. He turns on his heel and looks at her as she cowers into the corner of her door. Matt takes a step forward immediately to stand between him and her. He scoffs again.

“Didn’t know you were fucking your neighbor,” he spat before bounding down the stairs, slamming the door behind him.

Matt stood for a moment, listening to the man curse to himself outside, kick a random can on the ground, and walk himself down the street before entering a taxi and returning himself to whatever hell he came from. It wasn’t until Matt was sure he was gone from the vicinity that he heard a loud stomping again, booming in his ears, that he realized it was her scared, frantic heartbeat coming from behind him.

Matt turned around to face her, taking a step back to give her some space. “Hey,” he cooed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she lied, placing a hand over her heart in an attempt to calm herself down. “Well, now I am. Goodness… he wouldn’t take a hint.”

Matt sighed. “I think he was ignoring them on purpose. Who was he, anyway?”

“Some guy I went on a first—and last—date with,” she answered sheepishly. “I didn’t even want to go. My friends encouraged me to get myself out there. Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“I’m sorry he treated you like that. You don’t deserve that,” Matt replied in a soft tone, your usual calm heart beating frantically still. “You should never do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Even if it’s as simple as a first date.”

“I know,” she said, defeated like she’d told herself this before. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come out. Thank you, Matt.”

“No need to thank me,” Matt said, shaking his head. “That’s what neighbors are for.”

She smiled softly. “You’ll save me from my next bad date?”

Matt laughed, glad that she seemed to calm down and was back to her friendly, unafraid self. “It’s late,” he said softly, deflecting from her joke. He didn’t want her to go on another bad date—she didn’t deserve that. But he also didn’t want her to go on a date with someone other than him. Which was why he was about to wish her goodnight.

“It is,” she yawned. “Well, maybe I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Matt whispered. “Don’t forget to lock your door.”

She giggled, already letting herself inside. “I won’t.”

“Hey,” she said suddenly, half inside her apartment, half out. From this alone, Matt was looped in her scent. “You don't think he will come back, do you? Now he knows where I live.”

“He won’t,” Matt shook his head, “and if he does, I will deal with it. Don’t worry. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you again, Matt.”

She closed her door softly, and Matt waited until he heard the lock click before he went back inside his apartment.

Laying in his bed, he listened as she crawled into her bed in her apartment. Her heartbeat told him she was still awake. When he heard it slowed down, signaling she had fallen asleep, he closed his eyes and drifted into a slumber himself.

TAGS: @mattmurdocksstarlight @yentroucnagol @danzer8705 @allllium @i-marvel-bitch @mattsgirlsworld @babygrlmurdock @writtenbyred

#neighbor #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #marvel #daredevil born again #matt murdock #mcu #the defenders

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gyqru · 5 months

Text

GO GO DANCER — sejanus plinth

warning: poorly written lap dances..? fem! reader

summary: dancing is your passion, being apart of the covey lets you explore that. one night, you find yourself a new face in the crowd.

word count: 2k

having a passion for performing, you found yourself joining the covey. though your passion wasn't for singing, you were a dancer, reveling in the confidence it gave you as people admired the way your hips swayed.

as you grew older, you discovered a more mature form of dancing. once the clock struck midnight, people would usher off. the younger children of the covey were led away to be put to sleep. the only audience that stayed this late were peacekeepers and old men who didn't want to go home to their wives.

word spread quickly about your "midnight performances," with skimpy outfits made of shiny plastic or see-through silk. people shamed you for the things you did for money, but you couldn't care less. you weren't a prostitute; you'd say you were more of an exotic dancer.

serving unfaithful men lap dances and giving touch-starved peacekeepers something to think about when they returned to their lonesome camps.

this night wasn't any different; it was busier than you'd expect, but it was a saturday night. as lucy grey wrapped up her last song, you started to make your rounds at the bar. whenever you weren't dancing, you would serve at the bar.

as people paid off their last drinks and left, you quickly got off shift and went to get ready. you had a new surprise for tonight's show; after lucy grey won the hunger games, she could afford new things. that meant instead of the usual live band, you now had a jukebox filled with music from different districts.

applying the last of your pink lipstick, you checked yourself out one last time. the mesh “cover up” you wore left little to the imagination; the matching baby pink lace undergarments showing right through.

"well, look at ya’, darlin'. it almost makes me jealous i can't get a personal dance," lucy grey teased you, leaning against the doorframe of the makeshift storage and changing room.

"y’know, all you gotta do is ask," you chuckled, standing from your chair. you'd usually tower over lucy, but tonight you decided not to wear your usual high heels; opting out for flats.

grabbing your extravagant fur coat, you wrapped it around your body, gesturing for lucy to lead the way.

rolling her eyes, she leads you back to the main bar, wishing you good luck before disappearing into the crowd of people.

watching as she descended into the crowd, you saw her with that tall blonde you saw her with at the lake. he wasn't alone, accompanied by a bulkier fellow, moles painting his boyish face.

startled by your name being called, you swiftly turned to see billy, one of the barkeepers.

"the jukebox's all set up; you can go up on stage now," he exclaimed, wiping sweat off his forehead.

"amazing! thanks, billy. i'll have to pay you back for that," you grinned, sauntering towards the stage. quick hoots and hollers made their round as you stood on stage.

"gentlemen, i didn't keep y'all waiting for too long, did i?" you teased into the microphone, scanning for your usuals and any new faces.

mr. snow's friend stared at you, embarrassed when you met his gaze, sending him a flirty wink. choking on whatever he was drinking, coriolanus looked at him confused. (you called coriolanus mr. snow because of his appearance, refusing to refer to him by anything else)

lucy grey couldn't help but laugh, whispering something to coriolanus that made him straighten up. eyes flickering between sejanus and you, he decided to entertain the idea lucy grey had.

the loud bass from the jukebox brought the trio's attention back to you. stripping yourself of your faux fur coat, you tossed it aside, letting the lights warm your skin. whistling and clapping filled the room, hungry eyes soaking in your body.

sejanus couldn't help but blush, taking in your body. this felt wrong to him, not even knowing you but being able to see so much of your body.

as your hips swayed to the music, your hands roamed your own body; teasingly lifting the mesh dress you wore, showing off the lacy stockings you had on.

with a sweet smile on your face, you let yourself feel the music, trying to ignore all the eyes on you.

the longer he watched, the more sejanus felt himself getting mesmerized. not being able to help himself, he let his eyes fall on your exposed legs and chest.

finally removing your babydoll, your body was now exposed, skin glistening under the stage lights. as you bent over, you couldn't help but notice the same brown eyes staring at you.

slowly straightening yourself back up, you continued to stare at coriolanus' friend, your eyes never wavering as you continued to dance, his gaze never leaving yours.

the song came to an end (sadly), and you quickly thanked the crowd, jumping off the stage to make your way to the bar for something to drink.

random men came up and started to converse with you, though you dismissed most of them. you couldn't help but let your eyes wander off to the peacekeeper, eyeing the back of his shaved head, taking in his broad shoulders and slim waist.

ten minutes passed; the barkeeper reminded you. your little break was ending, meaning you had to go back to perform.

walking back on stage, you bring the mic to your lips. "gentlemen, if you could kindly make room for me in the center of the room, i would appreciate that truly."

quickly, men scatter around, the usuals aware of what's about to happen. coriolanus and sejanus both look confused as the circle forms, placing them in front of it.

lucy grey's eyes widen; she thought you gave up this act a long time ago. if it was even possible, her eyes almost popped out of her head, glimmering with mischief.

whispering to coriolanus, she explains what's happening. nodding, coriolanus starts to pick up on what lucy grey is putting down, staring at sejanus for a moment before nodding at whatever lucy said.

in an instant, a man pushes a chair to the middle of it as you choose the next song. most of the titles seem unknown, but you choose the one that sounds most appealing.

you find billy standing at the side of the stage and tell him to start the song on your mark. he nods, and you start making your way to the center where the chair stands, grabbing onto the back of the chair and leaning against it.

"any volunteers?" you drawl, looking around, only to find your attention on a certain someone.

in an instant, sejanus is pushed into the circle before anyone else could steal his opportunity. shocked and embarrassed, he looks back at coriolanus and lucy.

you laugh as lucy grey winks at you. "have fun," she mouths, and snow just pats his friend on the back, shoving him more towards you.

"don't be shy now; i don't have all day," you joke, reaching over the chair and pulling him to sit down. he’s yet to say a word, staring at the floor.

feeling bad for him, you whisper into his ear, asking if he really wants to do this. if not, he can back out. your hot breath on sejanus' ears sends shivers down his back; he looks back at you and tells you to "start performing."

taken aback by his change in demeanor, you laugh and turn to billy, giving him a thumbs up. he starts to play the song you chose, the instrumental nothing like you've heard before, but you immediately adjust to the change in tone. [lolita by lana del rey starts playing lmao]

sejanus sits there awkwardly, hands on his lap. you finally come into his view, your lacy underwear pressing into your skin perfectly.

you run your hands up and down his body, feeling his chest and abdomen. his muscular body doesn't surprise you considering he's a peacekeeper, but it's definitely nice to feel.

running your hands lower, you grab his clammy hands and press them onto your own body, letting them rest on your hips as you proceed to straddle him.

his face turning red, he can't help but panic as you roll your hips on his lap, pushing your chest against his. your face inches away from his, you stare at him as you continue to grind on him.

noticing his unmoving hands, you pout sarcastically. getting off of him gracefully, you let his hands fall to his side, bending yourself over in front of him, giving him a perfect view of your ass.

sejanus can't help but salivate at your body, completely entranced (and turned on) by how you present yourself to him. (he completely forgot about all the men watching this performance.)

standing back straight, you sit back down on his lap, this time facing away from him, so your behind is pressed against his crotch.

wiggling your hips to the music, you press your back against his chest, bringing a hand to caress his head, feeling the stubble of his shaved head.

this time sejanus doesn’t hesitate to touch you, running his calloused hands against the soft skin of your legs. biting your lip seductively, you bring your hands to his.

wrapping your smaller hands with his, you lead his hands up hips to exposed stomach, letting them rest on your breast.

teasingly, you let him feel them for a second before standing back up. the song comes to an end, and you turn to him, sending him a kiss and a wink before making your way back to the stage.

cheers boom as sejanus sits there stunned, random men applauding and cheering him on, as if he just won at life. coriolanus and lucy push their way to his friends.

lucy can't stop herself from laughing at sejanus' face; coriolanus can’t help but smile at his dumbfounded friend.

saying your final goodbyes, you pick up your coat and wrap it around yourself, leaving the stage and heading backstage to change.

once you're in something more comfortable, you start to head out, going back to the bar to tell lucy grey goodbye.

as you approach, you see that he's still here, face still flush; he notices you before mr. snow and lucy can. a big smile is plastered on your face, scaring lucy.

"oh my! never do that unless you want to end up with a black eye," she jokes, clutching her heart dramatically.

you roll your eyes, chuckling at her threats. "i just wanted to say goodnight; i'm heading back home. are you gonna spend your night with mr. snow tonight?" you tease, wiggling your eyebrows.

eyes flickering between the two, coriolanus' face grows a crooked smile, at your implication. "wouldn't you like to know," lucy bantered back.

"how about you, mystery man? who r’you spending the night with?" questioning the peacekeeper who stood there stiffly. sejanus looks around dramatically, mouth opening and closing, trying to come up with a response.

snorting at his feeble attempts not to embarrass himself in front of you, you tell him you’re just teasing. easing up, he scratches the back of his neck.

"my name's sejanus plinth," he confessed, stiffly holding out his hand for you to shake. you can’t help but continue to laugh, taking his hand into yours and shaking it firmly.

"so formal, sejanus. as if i wasn’t just dancing on top of you a couple of minutes ago," you continued to tease him, loving the way his face flushed a shade of pink.

"name’s y/n, but you can just call me bunny; that's my stage name," winking at him as you turn your attention to the entire trio.

clasping your hands together, you bid everyone adieu.

as you step out of the bar, you can’t help but peek back inside. "oh, and sejanus, that dance wasn’t for free. i’ll take a night with you as compensation," winking, making sure to emphasize the innuendo of your message.

you heard giggles and gasps as you finally walked off. never did you think you would develop a liking for a peacekeeper. sejanus plinth, what a man you are.

alice talks ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚

guys i’m truly the biggest tease, but i saw a crisis and i needed to fix it. there’s NO sejanus love, so i made my own. i’ll post the corio fic sometime this week, and pt. 3 of lost & found. i need to feed y’all what y’all deserve! (proofread like .. a lil)

#songbirds.com 𐙚☆⋆｡𖦹°‧#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus deserved better #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x lucy gray #lucy gray baird #lucy grey #tbosas #hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #fanfic #gyqru #writing

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yongbokology · 1 year

Text

eren finding out he’s been beating his dick to his best friend of ten years

part two

black coded reader <3

warnings; self explanatory, not proof read

this happened on a random friday night. eren had gotten home from one of the worst shifts he’s ever endured and needed to relieve some stress. for the past few months eren found himself frequently visiting one particular nsfw twitter account.

he found it a few months ago, same scenario, needed to relieve some stress yada yada.

after scrolling endlessly for the perfect video to get off to, his thumb comes to a complete stop once he sees you riding your pink dildo like your life depended on it. his volume was on max and the sounds that escaped your lips hit him like a freight train.

your ass faced him as you let out a string of obscenities. “f-fuck.” “ngh, shit!”

he found himself instantly tightening his grip on his cock and stroking himself to the rhythm of your hips working against your hot pink toy, covered in your orgasm.

your face was nowhere in sight but eren didn’t really give a fuck about what you looked like. he needed a quick fix and you were giving it to him.

before he knows it, he finds himself getting off to your videos almost every day.. abandoning pornhub completely and not checking for other nsfw accounts he was familiar with.

he doesn’t think about it in moment but one day your phone is perched in a way where he can see a little more than what you normally show. he sees the full canvas of your back but what really catches his eyes is the small birthmark on your shoulder. his eyes linger on it for a split second before putting all his focus back to getting his nut off.

…

“it’s hot as fucking balls, we should’ve came at like nighttime or some shit.” connie complains, fanning himself while being consumed by the scorching sun that peered down at the beach.

“relax it’s not supposed to be like this all day, con,” you reassure him, shrugging off your clothes in the process. you were for sure gonna get tan lines. “historia can you get my back with the sun screen please?”

eren was busying himself with helping reiner set up the beach tent but spared a quick glance at you while reiner was trying to fix the side he was holding. his brows knit together when he catches a glimpse of your birthmark. in the moment he doesn’t know why it throws him off. you’ve known each other for so long that it wasn’t his first time seeing it but something about it in that particular moments left him puzzled.

…

it’s another night, eren is once again in his lonesome with nothing better to cope with than fucking himself.

of course, he goes to your account and sees that you posted something two hours ago. he licks his lips in anticipation as he clicks on the video.

at this point he’s a minute in and already close to cumming. eren found himself cumming faster to you than he normally did with other partners he’s been with and he isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. (he chalks it up to him being involuntarily celibate for months)

but during the 60 second mark he glances behind you and catches a glimpse of something just mere centimeters away from you. the checkered logo that eren saw literally almost everyday for the last two years.

it’s the hoodie of the autobody shop he worked at. he stops pumping his dick, panting heavily, on the brink of a beyond satisfactory orgasm. his eyes are nearly bulging out his head when you take the hoodie up to your nose and a soft moan flowing out your plush lips as you take a sniff of the fabric.

you stop riding your dildo, laying hoodie on a pillow, mounting said pillow and eren can’t even bring himself to fathom what happens next.

you begin grinding your wet cunt against the hoodie he’d lent to only one person.

in that moment eren just realized he’d been pleasuring himself for several months to his best friend that he’d known since forever and the worst part is? he nutted all over his phone without even finishing pumping his dick.

#eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger #eren smut #aot x black reader #aot fanfiction #aot smut #levi aot #levi ackerman #reiner x reader #smut #attack on titan #levi smut #armin smut #jean smut

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call-me-copycat · 5 months

Note

hey, can I ask the reader to be Aizawa's daughter, but she lives with her mother in another country, so when the reader gets into a fight, her mother sends her to live with Aizawa, but she forgets to tell him, so y/ n arrives and says "hey dad, surprise?"

Hi! Thank you so much for requesting! Sorry for the delay, I've been very busy with school and work (˶> <˶) Hope this is what you wanted!

A Runaway's Hope

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules

▶ Characters: Aizawa x Daughter Reader (platonic)

▶ Genre: Fluff, maybe some comfort mixed in

▶ Summary: The ask sums it up

▶ Word Count: 2746

▶ Warnings: None :⁠-⁠)

You don't even remember what the fight was about.

The quiet rushing of cooled air and the machinery of the train helped to lull the negative thoughts away, the bright lights hitting your face every time you passed a station.

All you remember was...

"You can't live here anymore! I can't put up with this any longer!"

Your mother... She and you didn't get along too well. She was too distant for you, and you could never seem to get along, despite the numerous efforts made by both parties.

Constant fights were normal. Not talking for long periods of time was normal. But you knew you both were wearing thin. That's why you jumped at the chance when she said she'd be sending you to live with your father instead, with hopes that it'd turn out better than the current way it was with her.

You hardly knew the man. You'd seen a few photos, spoke on the phone a few times. That was all you had.

Was it a risk? To jump so fast to live with what was practically a stranger? Very much so. But you'd take it, anything to get away from the constant arguments.

The intercom crackled to life, calling your station. With a sigh you rose, awkwardly lugging your single suitcase and heaving your backpack onto your shoulder.

The night was sparkling with life. You had never been over to Musutafu, having lived in the more rural parts of Japan your whole life. Back there, people would shut off lights and be in bed by 9 or 10 if they weren't working. You rarely saw anyone out past that.

So to see such a large city, bustling with so much life despite the dark... It was mesmerizing.

You lugged yourself to a less crowded part of the station, pulling out an address shakily scribbled on a piece of paper - despite owning a functioning phone. Reading it to yourself once more as if you didn't already have it memorized, you folded it and put it back in your coat pocket. This was it. You were in the city, now all you had to do was find the place.

As you walked up the steps and out in fresh air, you suddenly felt like a child again. No home, no support, all by your lonesome. Stuck and helpless...

You clenched your fist. You got this far, you couldn't go back. It had a chance of working out.

With that thought, you found a taxi (despite how expensive it was) and rode out to the apartment complex. The cab was cool and quiet, reminding you of the train you took to get there.

Once there, you stood out on the sidewalk, holding up a picture you had to compare to the building. You felt your heart beat faster, the blood in your body warming and filling you with adrenaline.

This was it.

The very building you had heard of but never visited, the place that housed a person you had never officially met in person...

All you had to do was go up and...

And-

You mentally slapped yourself. You hadn't even bothered to call! You didn't even send a note or something! You had simply up and left in the moment!

Panic flared in your chest as your surroundings began to spin. You hadn't even let him know you were coming. What if he didn't want anything to do with you?! What would he do? Throw you out?!

Inhaling deeply and exhaling similarly, you attempted to calm yourself. Worst case scenario, he could give you some money to travel back, and you could just grovel for your mother to give you a place to live.

A shudder passed through you. You'd rather it not come to that, but you couldn't exactly be too picky. You were currently homeless, after all.

What else was there to do, besides dragging you and your suitcase up the steps to the building, and then even further until you were on the third floor of the apartment, until you were standing in front of his door. Finally, you held up your hand to knock.

Nothing.

You knocked once more.

Nothing again.

You waited about five minutes before trying again. Then ten minutes before knocking once more. Then again.

Finally, once thirty minutes passed by, you began to panic once more.

'No, no... What if he's... Out getting groceries or something?'

The thought wasn't the brightest, but it was something. That's at least what you told yourself. Finally, after an hour of waiting, you slowly trotted down the steps, nowhere to go. The people passing by reminded you that they had places to be, while you didn't. It felt suffocating.

Before you reached the bottom, an older man who was watering some plants noticed you. Looking over at him, you saw he had greying hair and was wearing a cardigan, along with a bandana placed oddly low on his head, close to his eyes.

Approaching him, he gave a little wave. "We don't usually see that many this late at night," he joked, as if he had known you for a long while.

"Ah, about that..." You suddenly felt a rising acknowledgement about your situation, feeling oddly embarrassed at your impulsive actions. "I'm here to see my father, but he doesn't seem to be home at the moment"

The man looked over without saying anything, smiling tiredly while he watered the plants, only making you feel even more awkward than before as you debated whether you should stay or not.

"Sorry if I seem suspicious, but we get that a lot from nosy intruders trying to bother our residents here - especially since we house a few heroes." The man let out a little chuckle as if he hadn't just said he suspected you of lying. Although, you could understand his sentiment.

"You said 'our residents', are you the owner here?" You asked, not expecting this man of all people to be someone responsible for the entire building.

"That I am" He responded kindly.

You stood bewildered. The owner! Maybe he could help you... You just had to get some proof. Quickly, you scrambled to pop open your backpack, looking for a certain photo book. You didn't have any photos with your father past birth, but you did have a photo of him holding you as a baby. Just one.

The man stood to the side, tiredly watering the plants with an old hose, a stark contrast to the panicked movements of you right next to him.

Finding the photo and pulling it out, you showed the man. It was a photo of your father holding you just as you were born, with his sole focus on you instead of the camera. He was much younger back then, and you didn't know what he would look like in current times.

The man looked over the photo once before shrugging his shoulders.

"I believe you, I already did from the beginning. Cute photo though."

You stood there with the photo still in your hand. What was with this guy?!

"Your father is Shota? Is that right?" He looked over at you with an expression of interest compared to the tired smile he wore earlier. "He never said anything about having a kid."

You nodded, "We don't really talk that much... Do you know where he is by the way?"

The man stopped looking at the water flowing out of the hose and went to look up at the stars instead, moving one hand to his pocket and exhaling a heavy breath.

"You won't find him here right now, unfortunately"

"Why? Is he busy?"

The man shrugged once again, slow as molasses, though clearly smarter than he was letting on.

"You could say that"

Talking to him was a struggle, really. He only let out answers to questions explicitly asked, and you felt as though you weren't getting anywhere.

"Can you please explain?"

He chuckled at your exasperated tone, finally giving a suitable explanation.

"He's almost never around. He works at night. Probably sleeps for a bit, then he works during the day. Sometimes I don't see him for days at a time just because he sleeps elsewhere," He sighed once more, looking back at the plants in the little garden. "He needs to take better care of himself, that Shouta.. "

You couldn't believe it. Days at a time? You didn't have days, besides what if you couldn't catch him during the small amount of time he was actually there?

Another thought dawned on you. If he was so busy all the time, would he even have time for you? You stood quietly, pondering what you would do.

"Maybe try waiting by his door for a bit? Tomorrow's a weekday, so he'd have to show up to get ready to go to his day job"

You could only nod sullenly and take the man's advice. He gave you a few snacks to keep yourself busy while you walked back up the stairs, eventually planting yourself in front of his door to wait it out.

The view from the third floor wasn't so bad at least. You could see the lights of the lower buildings twinkling in the back, and since the area was quieter than the rest of the town, you felt as though you could think a little clearer.

After a couple hours, the landlord from before came back with a blanket and more snacks (which you just packaged to save for later), and soon enough you were out like a light.

A soft nudge to your side caused you to groan, and the sharper one that followed it caused your eyes to fly open, rubbing the tender area on your ribs. Looking up to see who caused it, your eyes widened as you saw exactly who you were looking for.

"Mind explaining why you're sleeping in front of my door? I'd also like to know why you're here, on the opposite side of Japan, as well."

Giving him a once over, you didn't expect your father to look so... Worn down. Raggedy, you'd call it. His hair was unkempt and fell in front of his face, and his eyes held dark bags underneath them, the eyes themselves being red and irritated. In addition, he was still wearing his hero outfit from patrol, with him just wanting to head in, get a few minutes of rest, then clean up before heading to UA. You tried to ignore the small spatter of red on his scarf.

"I..." Quickly standing up, you brushed yourself off and tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible (at least for someone who just woke up from sleeping outside all night).

Clearing your throat, you tried explaining yourself, "I... I'm sorry for the sudden request but..."

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

"I was wondering if I could live with you?"

Getting it all out at once was what your decided was the best you could do. At least it'd get rejection out of the way.

He wiped his eyes, the irritation of dry eye making him want to be inside even further. He was covered with grime from patrol, hadn't eaten all night (wondering if you didn't either), and was exhausted.

"Look... There's a lot going on right now, but you can just come inside with me so we can discuss it there," he explained, fishing out his keys before opening the door and letting you in first.

The place was rather empty. Clean, but empty. It was small too. You started questioning yourself once more at the sight. The walls were bare, the furniture being the bare essentials (like a couch and a table with a chair), and it definitely showed he wasn't there a whole lot.

"Sit wherever you'd like. I'm going to get changed and then we can work something out."

You sat on the couch due to it being closest, fearing he'd send you back sooner if he thought of you as a nuisance.

Truth be told, Aizawa was feeling as though he was hallucinating. Coming home exhausted from work and seeing his daughter sleeping outside of his door made him think he had really lost it. His daughter, that he had never seen in person other than photos every now and then, and who was supposed to live across Japan.

He didn't know what to do for once. He couldn't send you back, that'd be cruel. He knew you and your mother didn't get along, but that was all he knew. He didn't think it'd get this bad, though.

He could understand your perspective, at least. He himself didn't have the best relationship with his own mother, having moved out when he barely turned eighteen and having to survive off of cup noodles and a single lightbulb for months on end. He didn't want you to go through the same struggles.

Still, he didn't know if he had the time. The last thing Aizawa wanted to do was to ignore you and your needs.

Wrapping his scarf up and tossing it on his bed (instead of the special rack on the wall that it was intended for), he decided he'd have to make changes to his schedule then, so he could take care of you without being too busy.

Back in the living room, you clutched your backpack to your chest, fearing where this would take you.

Once Aizawa stepped into the room, you immediately put your attention on him, ready to beg for a place to stay. You noticed he changed into something more casual, being just a long sleeve shirt and joggers, with his hair tied up.

He stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets, giving you a once over. He could see the way you tensed up. The way you were ready for a yelling match. He'd definitely not be sending you back.

Instead, Aizawa surprised you by holding his arms open. Sensing your confusion, he directed you.

"I haven't seen my daughter since she was born, you couldn't at least give me a hug?"

He almost chuckled at the sight of your eyes getting wider, wrapping his arms around you when you came up to him. He wasn't the most outwardly affectionate man, but his colleagues and students were making him softer by the day.

You stayed in place for a solid minute, enjoying the warmth which helped to ease your tension that had been built up all night long.

"You can stay with me, but since you failed to communicate this to me earlier I'm going to need time to prepare"

You nodded, smiling as fatigue overtook you once more.

"Does this mean I'm living with you now?"

Aizawa smiled softly. "It does." Looking out of the barely rising sun in the window, he breathed out of his nose. If only he had more time to discuss and get things ready.

Ever since you were small, he cherished every photo and phone call sent his way. He looked forward to it, your voice or smiling face being the only thing keeping him going some nights. So to have you in person, he was elated. Frustrated with the lack of communication, yes, but overall it wasn't the worst thing that could've happened.

Seeing your eyes closing on you once more, he frowned. It wouldn't hurt to take a day off work.

"C'mon, let's get you into a pair of pajamas or something so you can sleep properly," looking over to you tiredly rummaging through your suitcase, he remembered his earlier thought. "Let's also get some food in you as well"

As you brushed your teeth while the sun began to rise, Aizawa pulled out a plate to prepare some food. Out of habit he pulled only the one. Reopening the cabinet, he brought out another. Looking at the two dishes, he smiled. It was nice not being alone for once. If you weren't there, he'd have slept with his hero outfit on, popped a jelly packet, and then headed off to work at UA.

Maybe taking care of you would also teach him to learn how to take care of himself.

Seeing you walk in the kitchen in your sleepwear and toothbrush still in your mouth, Aizawa's look softened.

It definitely wouldn't hurt to call off work today.

I hope you enjoyed! This one was a bit shorter than normal, so I apologize for that! I wish you a lovely day! ( ͜♡･ω･) ͜♡

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Would KILL (not you) for a bit of Hotch rn.

Like just started dating, all new and neat. Shy reader at home while Hotch is at work and is having a lonesome girls night, face mask, pizza, dancing, the whole thing. Hotch then pays an impromptu visit. Pls and Thankyou

Love you you’re amazing 💕

thank you for your request! hotch x shy!reader ♡

You're tucked up on the couch trying not to get face mask in your pizza, or cheese in your face mask, when the doorbell rings. You drop your slice back into the box, eyes widened of their own accord. There's no way you can answer the door, not when your hair's sweaty from your latest karaoke dance routine, you're in your ratty pyjamas with a hole in the collar, and your face is blue. It's not happening.

You turn the volume down on your TV, sink down on the couch, and pray whoever it is didn't hear you laughing at your own Freddie Mercury impression. That would put you in an early grave, you'd die from embarrassment alone.

There's a heavy rap at the door. Your phone starts ringing on vibrate beside you. You slide off of the pillows and onto the floor, grabbing your phone and answering with as much grace as you can.

"Hello?" you ask.

"Hey, are you home?" Hotch's voice comes thick and steady through the speaker, and you swear you can hear a hint of amusement you'd rather have missed.

"Is that you, at the door?" you ask, knowing it is, and knowing this is the worst day of your life.

"Is that alright? I brought wine. I tried to call, but it wasn't going through, and you said I could come by whenever, now that we're–"

"Yeah," you say, getting to your feet. You're breathless suddenly, because you're very attractive boyfriend is at the door, and he's only been your boyfriend for a week —though he'd 'courted' you for far longer— and seeing him is a delight no matter how flustered he can get you. "It's alright, of course it's alright, um, uh, just– Aaron, I'm not very presentable."

"Could I be the judge?"

You look down at your fluffy socks. "Yes, I suppose so."

You go to the front door and open it. There's an abject moroseness to your actions, like defeat. This is where Aaron realises he's made a mistake, and he breaks up with you, and it breaks your heart forever. He really is handsome.

"Oh," Aaron says, standing on the short stone step outside of your house with a bottle of wine in hand.

"Sorry," you say, cringing.

"You're blue."

"Yes. I'm blue."

Aaron tilts his head slightly to one side, and his resting stern face lightens. "You look cute."

It's like being winded. He might as well have slapped you flat in the chest with the front of his wrist. "Thank you," you say, hoping that the floor will miraculously collapse beneath you and the earth will swallow you whole.

"Can I come in?" he asks, head still tilted. "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

He laughs like this is extremely funny as you step back to make room for him inside. The bottle of win gets put on the sideboard that houses your shoes, and before you know it you have arms wrapped around you. Aaron gives perfect hugs; they aren't too tight, and they aren't too loose. His cheek rubs against your temple.

"You'll get blue on you," you say, trying to push him away.

And when he pulls back, you're right. Blue face mask has transferred from you to him, wet on his chin but quickly drying. You try to scrub it off of him with your thumb but the colour spreads around and makes an even bigger mess.

"Oh, sugar, I'm sorry," you say, your hands all over his face.

"You missed a spot," he says.

"Aaron, I've missed lots of spots."

"A particular spot, right..." He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger and leans in for a long, chaste kiss. "There," he says, pulling away.

He has face mask on his cupids bow and the tip of his nose. You blink, dazzled, and prompt a laugh from your unsually smiley boyfriend.

"Cute," he says again, with an air of finality. "Want to order in?"

"I already got pizza."

"Oh, good. I thought with all the singing you might’ve been too busy."

If your face wasn't blue you'd drop it into your hands and weep. Aaron twines your fingers together, leading you into the living room for more pizza, blue chin and all.

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etheries1015 · 5 months

Text

A fearful Realization Pt. 2- Malleus X Reader

A continuation of This

A scenario in which you finally realize your feelings for the fae, however, the feeling doesn't leave you as elated as one may think. Perhaps it's time you came to terms with the fear of falling in love?

You slipped away from the party, excusing yourself with a quick apology to Silver as you found your way to the rooftop of Noble Bell Academy. Leaning over the edge your arms propped up on your elbows, heavy head being held by the palms of your hands. Using one arm you removed the mask to prevent the tears from ruining the fabric, wiping away with precision and avoiding any smearing of makeup you may have applied.

Staring over the beautiful stretch of the city, your eyes gazed upon the hundreds of people beneath the sun-kissed horizon as the sun slowly made its way to rest for the day. A gentle breeze blew through your hair and chilled the tears dry against your frosted cheeks. You had heard Silver run after you, clearly ignoring your desire to be left by your lonesome. So once the door to the roof opened you hadn't bothered to look back at the silver-haired boy, instead letting out a shaky and feeble chuckle through trembling lips. You didn't want anyone to see you in such a state, but as much as you wished to avoid it, there are things we as humans cannot control. Matters of the heart, for example.

"I...thought I told myself to give up on love a long time ago," You began to say, "I..." You looked down at the people walking around the city, some who were holding hands others laughing and coming together in joyous endeavors. You felt a tinge of jealousy as your heart stung with pins sticking deep within.

"I don't know why I bother, Silver," you choked out forcing a sob down your throat, "Because without fail- every single time- you somehow manage to convince yourself "His must be the personal in which I finally learn to love!" Your hands fell heavy to your side, turning away from the bustling of the city to stare in anguish at the mask in your grip. "This MUST be the right one."

"But it never is."

You sigh, finally deciding to place the mask on your face once more before looking up at the cloudless sky dusted in pink and orange.

"That's why I'm terrified. Our worlds are so different, there's no way he could possibly love me back. And even if he does, there's just...so much that can go wrong. I might still go home, and I don't want to do that to him-"

"Who, if I may ask, are you referring to?"

Your eyes widened with your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach, whipping your head around to find the source of the deep honey voice was not Silver; yet the very man you were desperately trying to avoid.

Malleus.

Your words were caught in your throat, the tears that had just stopped flowing threatened to return. In a panic you turned back around and shut your eyes tightly, hoping it was all some sort of bad dream and the Fae would magically disappear. It was inevitable though, this encounter. You would have to come to terms with your feelings to him one way or another, and this was the universes way of saying it was time.

"It's too soon," You whisper, "I can't-"

"You can," A reassuring hand placed itself upon your shoulder, urging you to look his way. When you turned to face the ethereal Fae, you had difficulty catching yourself to catch his gaze with your own. Malleus brought a gloved hand underneath your chin, using his agile fingers to tilt your gaze forcefully yet ever so gently to look into his entrancing emerald orbs.

"Am I right to assume you may be referring to...me?" You could sense a sort of hesitance in his voice, the confident man you saw singing up on stage was now standing vulnerable in front of you- and you were certain your resolve was no longer existent seeing him there under the glare of sunset. You gave a feeble nod in response to his inquiry, body trembling in terror for something you knew all to well about; rejection.

However it seemed to be the exact opposite of those deep-rooted expectations...instead, you found Malleus wrapping his arms around you, mostly to avoid showing you the un-princely blush that rested upon his pale cheeks and flustered appearance at the confirmation of your feelings. A moment of silence seemed to stretch into an infinity of uncertainty, yet was short-lived by Malleus making a rather...bold statement.

"Then I shall consider this day forward you to be my mate since I too reciprocate your feelings of affection." You shook your head in absolute bewilderment, pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, your mouth agape. Ah...there it was. The normal Malleus you knew- the one who was just slightly awkward and easily flustered- the one you knew not for his stoic nature and princely aura, yet his sensitive soul and animal-like silliness.

"Did you think that through?" You asked with an astonished chuckle at the rapid response the fae had given you, "I mean- first of all, I'm not from this world. Second of all, I'm a human-"

"None of that," He interrupted with a sly smile, "This is a time to rejoice, is it not? I believe we should celebrate by sharing a dance together," He smiled down at you, moving himself to grasp your hands into his.

You hesitate before deciding to drop your counterarguments, for now, the insecurities and questions can wait, you decide. Besides, everything was moving so quickly, you weren't even sure how to feel anymore. The emotions that seemed to take over your consciousness mere minutes ago were easily replaced with confusion and bewilderment, a far cry from what you had thought you would be going through when your confession came out. Malleus somehow had that effect about him, always swaying your emotions far left or far right- always knowing how to distract your mind from its own darkness, instead replacing it with something you weren't sure how to describe other than reckless abandon.

"Right now?" You responded with a breathy chuckle and raised eyebrows, "But there's no music up here...."

"I do not need music to enjoy a dance with you," He smiled, placing your hands where they needed to be for a classic ballroom-style dance, "so let's set aside your worries and simply enjoy the song of the wind and people laughing below, hmm?" With pursed lips and a deep breath, you allowed Malleus to lead the dance as you took your first step toward your new resolve.

-----

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#Twisted wonderland #Twisted wonderland x reader #Malleus draconia #Malleus #twst #Malleus x reader #Malleus draconia x reader #Twst x reader #twst headcannon #twisted wonderland headcannon #twisted wonderland fanfiction

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adore-laur · 5 months

Text

DADRRY: PART ONE

— just harry being a doting dad & husband 🍓

——

Saturday nights haven't been this peaceful in a while. Harry and your daughter left home about an hour ago to attend a father-daughter dinner organized by a group of parents at the daycare, so you're left by your lonesome to enjoy a relaxing time without your child's newly developed and daily tantrums. She's two-and-a-half years old, meaning it's out with the newborn bliss and in with the "Terrible Twos" phase every mom has warned you about.

She was always an easy baby; she never cried for too long or was fussy too often. There's no doubt that she's still the sweetest little thing, but some days, it can be a nightmare to deal with her. You're thankful for her otherwise reserved nature, but even then, a toddler will do anything to get what they want, and your daughter is no exception.

Nonetheless, you and Harry handle it as a team. The both of you choose to deal with her sudden outbursts by using a calm and understanding approach. She listens most of the time. If she got one trait from her father, it's the ability to be an annoyingly good listener and hang on to every word you speak. With Harry, it's always complete eye contact, well-placed affirmations, and asking all the right questions. You suppose it's because of his job, but he claims he was just naturally born with it.

Having been together for seven years, you and Harry have lived a beautifully intimate life on the coast of southern California, consisting of no neighbors, a secluded beach, and your little family of three. Harry works as a sous chef at a restaurant on the outskirts of town. He used to be the head chef before your daughter came into the world, but the wearisome hours he worked then would have never worked out with being a new father. He still hasn't accepted his old title back, much to your secret dismay. When he decided to demote himself, he suffered from a salary decrease and disappointed comments from co-workers. He didn't care, though. He had told you that if it meant he got more time to spend with you and the baby, he would selflessly accept the consequences.

During your postpartum days, he promised never to have a shift that had him arriving home after five in the evening unless necessary. It was a promise to always be with you for dinner, to watch the sun dip down the horizon, and to fall asleep next to you. He sometimes comes home in a palpable mood of frustration after a hectic shift, but as soon as he walks through the door and sees his girls, it's like magic the way his visibly tense shoulders sag with relief.

There are instances when both of you need an independent getaway, but most of the time, it's the three of you together in your domestic bubble of love. You've never known a man quite like Harry. Nothing compares to his heart or drive to be the best possible husband, dad, and son. Also, you appreciate how he's so attentive and gentle with every part of your lives and how he'd go against that gentleness if needed to fight tooth and nail for his family. You've built a life worth living with him. He's yours entirely.

And yes, his daughter has stolen some of that love, but each night before you fall asleep, it's like he can transfer every ounce of love in his precious heart to you with a simple touch. Or a single glance topped off with the softest kiss.

As you sit alone by the blazing fire, you realize that nights spent by yourself no longer appeal to you. You want your family next to you all the time. You want your daughter to ask a million questions, mostly incomprehensible blabbering, but it melts your heart anyway. You want to watch Harry cook dinner, always putting on his actual chef coat and reading a recipe in a terrible French accent just to make your daughter laugh. You want to watch him put a spaghetti noodle below his nose to act as a mustache, or watch him keep your daughter on his hip while letting her add an ingredient to a dish. Then, when she does, he looks at her with faux surprise and tells her she's better at his job than he is.

Yet when your chef husband isn't home to make delicious food, you're stuck making frozen pizza. You considered having a glass of wine with it but decided not to because waking up on a Sunday morning with a pounding headache and a cranky toddler at the breakfast table is not something you want to deal with.

With a reminiscent glint in your eyes, you finish the last slice and think about what they could be doing now. It's a little after seven, so you assume they're done eating dinner and socializing with the other dads and kids. Harry had said the restaurant was connected to a botanical garden, so they might be walking through it. Your daughter is probably exhausted. She woke up at five this morning and has been hyper all day, asking if she could go to dinner now, even if it wasn't lunchtime.

You decide to text him and ask if he could take some pictures in the garden. Your and Harry's camera roles are filled with images of your daughter.

I hope you guys are having fun! Please take some pics of you both at the botanical garden. Miss and love you. Get home safe.

You shut your phone off and stare at the moonlit water, waiting for your favorite people to come home.

——

Harry is waiting for the check when he gets your text message. His phone screen lights up, displaying his lock screen, a photo of him and his baby girl on a hotel bed in Italy. They're both wearing fluffy white robes and are passed out from a long day of swimming under the sun and eating a boatload of food.

That family vacation was six months ago. It was her second birthday, so he wanted to go somewhere special. Let's just say that being a chef at a nice restaurant has its perks. He had saved a lot of money after he started working more hours. Then, one day, he secretly bought three plane tickets to the Amalfi Coast.

Harry wants to go back more than anything. He has never felt more content and full of love (and carbs) anywhere else except for Italy. He swears he gained ten pounds from that trip alone, and he blames it on his daughter, who begged for raspberry gelato and ciabatta bread every chance she got. He had wanted to go back to the gym to lose weight, but you changed his mind when you told him on the last day in Italy that you found his new body attractive. You had also whispered in his ear that his thighs were thickening, and it was making you hot in the face.

So, naturally, he took you into the shower, had you ride his thigh, and then made you come twice in twenty minutes.

But that's beside the point.

Harry reads your text, smiles, and then responds: Of course, love. We'll be home soon. We're full of spaghetti and love you very much.

It's getting late, so he settles on taking the little rascal for a stroll through the gardens before she zonks out. He untucks his black shirt from his trousers, leans back against the chair, and rubs his hands over his stomach. It was a spaghetti dinner with seemingly endless garlic bread, so they both feel the after-effects.

Harry lets out a dramatic sigh that catches his daughter's attention. "Are you full?"

She mimics his position while nodding with a pout on her face. He laughs and starts folding his sunglasses in his shirt pocket, which he wore before it started getting dark out. He pushes their dirty dishes toward the middle of the table to make things easier for the busser. He then leaves a fifty-dollar bill as a tip.

Reclaiming his credit card from the checkbook and putting it between his teeth, he grabs the coloring sheet the restaurant supplied and tucks it under his arm. He knows she'll want it on the fridge.

He returns his credit card to his wallet and asks, "Ready to see the pretty flowers before we leave?" She hums a yes, and he can't help but reach across the table to pinch her cheek fondly before standing. "Let's go, sleepy girl."

She lifts her arms in a request to be carried, and Harry picks her up with a groan. He's only thirty-one, so he really shouldn't be struggling to carry his daughter, who weighs the same as a sack of potatoes. He supposes working in a kitchen and hunching over counters all day for the past decade might have something to do with it.

He hikes her up on his hip while she snakes her arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder. She'll be asleep in a matter of minutes.

After he pushes their chairs in, he waves goodbye to the other daycare fathers before making a beeline for the commercial kitchen to bid adieu to the staff. He's friendly with some of them since he's a local chef himself, and he always tries to show his appreciation to chefs. He knows firsthand the hard work and stress of successfully running a restaurant behind the scenes.

Harry pushes the door open using his elbow and quickly catches the gaze of the head chef, whom he has talked to a few times at past culinary conventions and events. He takes his free hand and covers his daughter's exposed ear since it's noisy in the kitchen, with metal clanging and orders being shouted.

"Hi," he says, smiling politely at the head chef. "We're heading home, so I just wanted to give my thanks. The food and service was excellent."

"Harry, it was good seeing you!" he replies cheerfully, reaching under a stainless steel countertop. "Stop by again soon. We love having your family here."

"Will do, man. I'll bring my missus next time."

Harry plans date nights every other week, usually finding restaurants he's never visited in the So-Cal region. You've told him he gets endearingly talkative when explaining certain establishments' different cuisines and recipes. The restaurant he's at tonight has always been a favorite because he's taken you there a handful of times when the both of you were still in the early stages of dating. He even worked there as an assistant chef for two years.

On the third date he took you on, if he remembers correctly, he may or may not have convinced his boss at the time to let him take you back to the kitchen so he could show you how to make chocolate-covered strawberries. You'd told him you had made them before, and he blushed while mentally facepalming himself; he thought he was being clever. That didn't stop him, though, because he ended up pulling something out of thin air. Turn up his charm, so to speak, by saying that his version of the classic recipe was extra special.

Well, he had lied.

They were just any old regular chocolate-covered strawberries, but he pushed up his sleeves (metaphorically and literally) and used fancy chef jargon to try to impress you. It worked… at least he thought so. Later, you admitted that you were actually just ogling his biceps every time he dipped the fruit into the melted chocolate.

Once the strawberries were finished, Harry wrapped them up nicely and drove you home from the date. He fed you one before you got out of his beat-up Subaru, the only thing he could afford as a broke assistant chef. He will never forget you walking to your front door, half the strawberry still in hand, and then seeing you suddenly turn around to return to his window to feed him the last half. He had taken it in his mouth, chewing after taking a strangely erotic bite. He smirked at you and glanced down at your lips, which were stained a glistening red from the tart juices.

"You're something else," he'd said sincerely, his voice a raspy from work.

"And you just scored another date with me."

From that moment on, he was gone for you.

After shaking hands with the other chefs, Harry leaves the restaurant and walks to his Bentley. He rationally decides to skip out on the botanical garden tonight because he wants her to be fully awake to see the blossoming flowers.

He unlocks the back door and gently straps her in, tucking her favorite blankie under her chin as she sleepily blinks at him. His heart melts into a puddle. "Let's go home to mumma, okay?" he murmurs, brushing her wispy hair back with a delicate sweep of his fingers. "I had such a fun time with you tonight."

She yawns as ferociously as a toddler physically can, then lunges her arms forward for a hug. Harry hugs her the best he can with her being in the car seat. He inhales her apple-scented shampoo while pressing kisses to the side of her head and then pulls away, poking her button nose with his thumb.

"Love you this big," he says, spreading his arms as wide as possible.

She giggles and copies his gesture. "Love big too," she replies brokenly with her sweet voice.

Harry puckers his lips and kisses the air before sliding into the driver's seat. He takes out his phone to send you a quick update: She's in a spaghetti coma, so we're coming home now. We can go to the garden as a family next weekend.

Pressing send, he smoothly pulls out of the parking lot and drives along the coastal highway with slightly cracked windows. He listens to his daughter's soft snores and thinks of you the entire way home with a dreamy smile.

——

You're still sitting by the fire, its flames dying with flickering embers, when you hear the garage door grinding open. You grin, immediately feeling warmer now that they're back home.

You had briefly gone inside to get a juice pouch for your daughter just in case she came back awake. You also spontaneously decided to make chocolate-covered strawberries since you felt sentimental while reminiscing about the honeymoon phase of your relationship with Harry.

The sound of footsteps sifting through the sand makes you turn your head. You find your husband with a sleeping angel clung to his side, his shirt untucked, and no shoes or socks on; he probably didn't want sand in his loafers. The shadow of scruff on his face is more noticeable, and the orange light from the campfire dances off his features. He looks at you, a soft smile gracing his lips as he carefully treads through the beachgrass to reach you.

"I've got a delivery," he whispers, sitting next to you on the blanket you spread out. "She's unconscious and full of spaghetti, so I don't think she'll be useful to you."

You laugh quietly and stare at your baby sleeping peacefully. Your knuckles stroke her round cheeks as you ask, "How was it?"

"Good. I ate my weight in pasta and bread, but it was worth it. We had fun."

You sling your arm around his waist and pat his stomach. "I'm glad you guys spent some time together."

He hums thoughtfully, unbuttoning his trousers to release the strain. "I need to start watching what I eat and cut down on the carbs. Otherwise, I'll look like Santa in five years."

He says it like he's joking, but you know he's been insecure about his weight since you were pregnant. He naturally put on sympathy weight during the nine months you carried the baby, and then afterward, it simply reached a point where he never had time to work out, whether being too busy working or spending his free time with you and the baby. He ate healthily, but some nights, he caved and ate carbs like there was no tomorrow. Plus, he's a chef, so you can't necessarily blame him for enjoying food.

When you met him seven years ago, he was twenty-four and had skinny legs and a slim torso. But if one thing hasn't changed about his body, it's his strong arms. They've held you through several situations — hugging you whenever you needed a companion, feeling the natural warmth radiating from him. Or holding your baby girl for the first time, his black tattoos beautifully contrasting the precious pink blanket that swaddled her. He could easily cradle her in one arm, fitting perfectly in the crook of his elbow like she belonged there. She still does.

Or, arguably, your favorite, which is when he holds your body up, your back pressed against his chest as he fucks you like no one else can. His bicep across your collarbones with his hand gripping your shoulder like he's physically claiming you, and his other hand gripping your hip, your inner thigh, your stomach…

You're getting carried away.

The point is that his body is lovely. He still has abs from being generally fit and strong thighs that can chase after your daughter during playtime. His back muscles are masterfully sculpted from the physical exertion that goes into being a chef. His flawless face, too, but that goes without saying.

"I love your body," you say, wanting him to feel good about himself. "No matter the changes it's gone through. I adore all of your soft parts."

He looks at you, trying to hold back a smirk. Of course, his mind immediately went to a dirty place.

"I'm being serious. You're allowed to have insecurities. Remember when you felt bad eating all those carbs in Italy? What did I tell you?"

Harry gazes at the ocean tide. "I was thinking about that at dinner tonight. When I saw my lock screen, I thought about that trip." He sighs and adds, "I don't know why I'm insecure when you're the only one I try to impress."

You stare at him with nothing but adoration swimming in your eyes. "Are you feeling these insecurities because of the dinner? With all the dads there?"

He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "Why are you so fuckin' smart? I swear you're too good for me," he says with a breathtaking smile.

"I just want you to talk through these things," you explain, touching his neck. "I know how miserable it can be to keep those thoughts bottled up until the bottle breaks."

Your thumb strokes along his jaw as you continue, "You're thirty-one. It's never too late to realize those insecurities and either come to peace with them or work on them. You know I'll always help you with whatever you decide."

Harry exhales through his nose and settles his forehead on your shoulder. "Never stop talking to me," he says sincerely, kissing your skin tenderly.

You pinch his chin with your thumb and pointer finger. He moves his head to gently nip the pad of your thumb before kissing it. "I love you."

"I know it," he whispers. "I just compare myself to rich, douchebag dads that own literal corporations and would probably ask me to be their personal chef in their ridiculous mansions if they knew what I did for a living."

You offer him a sympathetic smile. He shouldn't look down on his career. It pays well, but it's nothing compared to the So-Cal dads who own Lamborghinis and have a million different job titles.

"Harry, don't make me use my mom voice." "you say in a scolding tone.

He grins delightedly. "I don't mind."

"I've been with you for seven years. I was your girlfriend, married you, and pushed out a baby because I wanted a family with you. Your job doesn't matter to me in the way you're thinking. I love that you're a chef. When you first told me, I told my friends how hot I thought it was. I still find it hot."

He's full-on blushing now. You continue, "You come home and are in such a good mood most days. Do you know why? Because you love what you do. You love the people, the food you make, and the environment, which matters most. Not money or how many cars you own. Without hesitation, you made the difficult decision to step down from being in charge so we could start a family together. You have no idea how much that meant to me. Now you have a daughter who watches you cook her favorite meals and loves you insanely. That's what you should be proud of. And that's what all those other dads should be jealous of."

Harry's gaze flicks between your eyes before he kisses you with so much passion you feel dizzy. You kiss him back, and he inhales like he's breathing you in. Your daughter is still asleep, so you pull away before it escalates.

He finishes with a big kiss on your cheek, then rests his cheek against yours. "I love you so much," he whispers into your ear for only you to hear. "I'm pretty sure you just gave me a love boner."

You laugh, feeling his dimple form against your cheek. He leans back to look at you and shakes his head. "No joke," he says with infectious laughter crawling up his throat. "You just made me hard by telling me how much you love me."

You roll your eyes playfully before standing and stretching your back. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get her to bed."

Harry stands and hikes up your daughter a little. With a frown, he glimpses down at his pants when he realizes they're still unbuttoned. He obviously can't button them with one arm preoccupied with sleeping beauty, so you help him. You lift his shirt an inch to kiss his soft stomach first, then rest your chin on it and look up at him with a smile. After admiring his handsome face for a moment, you button his pants.

Your daughter is carefully passed from his arms to yours for a brief cuddle session before she has to be tucked into bed. Harry throws an arm around your shoulders and guides you inside the house. His steps falter when he retrieves a coloring sheet and gives it to you. It's a simple one that restaurants provide, and this particular one has a scene of two bunnies frolicking in the grass. It is what it is for a toddler with no concept of artistry, and you smile proudly when you take it from him. You'll hang it on the fridge with her other scribbled creations.

Harry opens the porch door and lets you inside first before locking it. He turns on the lamp in the living room. Then, as if reading your mind, he grabs tape from the junk drawer and attaches the drawing to the fridge. While he tidies the kitchen, you head in the opposite direction toward her bedroom.

After a few minutes, you see Harry in your peripheral vision and pat the floor in invitation. He kneels beside you, his knees cracking. He dramatically lets out a fake cry of pain, and you silently laugh while flicking his chest. He opens his mouth in offense, acting as if you just insulted him, to which you just shake your head and gesture zipping his mouth shut. He slyly smacks your ass, and you give him a warning glare before standing and kissing your daughter goodnight.

Before you leave the room, you get revenge by tickling Harry's sides from behind and then quickly running out of the room. You know how much he hates being tickled, but you were feeling the mutual playfulness that always trickles around bedtime. You reach the bedroom, hearing his heavy footsteps down the hallway. He pokes his head past the doorway to the master bedroom. You look at him with wide eyes and sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his next move.

Harry saunters through the doorway, looking around and nonchalantly whistling a tune with his arms behind his back. He walks to the connected master bathroom, your eyes trained on him the entire time. He turns around to close the sliding door just enough so that you still have a partial view of him.

"What?" he asks innocently, catching your eyes in the bathroom mirror. He's messing with you. And making you sweat.

"What are you doing?" you retort, crossing your legs partly to act unaffected and to ease the ache between your legs.

He casually leans against the door jamb. "Let's see... someone left me with quite a problem, so I thought I'd take care of it before bedtime like the gentleman I am," he says smugly, maintaining a stellar poker face.

"What do you suppose I do while I wait?" you reply, confident enough to play his game.

He deeply hums while standing straight and removing his trousers. With his thighs on display, you admire the tattoos there — a tiger on one and your name on the other. "I suppose you could get some sleep. Perhaps read. Whatever you'd like, darling, I'm not picky." He now stands in black boxers and a loose T-shirt. So cocky.

"And what will you be doing if I decide to sleep or read?" you challenge, sliding up on the bed to lean against the headboard.

Harry lets a smirk take over his face as he says, "What would you like me to do, honey?"

"I'd like you to not be in there alone."

"Will you be a good girl while I take care of the little problem you gave me?"

"Of course, baby. You know I always am."

One side of his mouth tugs up as he slowly nods, seemingly agreeing with you. "Always so good," he whispers just loud enough to hear. He inhales deeply before turning around frustratingly slowly, finally pulling his shirt and boxers off. He's tan from the daily sunshine, and his back muscles flex with each subtle movement. Your mouth quickly goes dry.

He disappears to turn the shower on but leaves the door open, which you know is an invitation. You had already changed into your silk pajama shorts and a tank top while he was in the kitchen, so you shut your bedroom door before entering the bathroom.

Oh.

The sight has your breath hitching. Harry's silhouette is behind the steamed see-through shower door. One hand on the wall, the other... well, he didn't even wait for you. He already started. You hear his quiet groans being stifled by his mouth buried in his arm, causing hot and bothered tingles to prickle your skin.

You don't think he sees you yet, so you take your pajamas off and quietly close the bathroom door. For some reason, you suddenly remember you have chocolate-covered strawberries in the fridge. You leave him to his fun and quickly grab a towel to wrap around you before walking to the kitchen. You open the refrigerator, grab two strawberries, and then shuffle back into the bathroom. As you drop the towel, you realize he's still going. You didn't think you got him worked up that much just by talking about how good of a person he is. Each to their own.

After hastily eating one of the strawberries, you gently knock on the glass. Harry stops abruptly and rests his face on his arm. He slightly cracks open the door to see and hear you. It takes everything in you to not look down.

"Hi," you say quietly. "I'm here."

He's breathing heavily, water dripping down his slick body. Wet strands of hair fall over his forehead as his eyes bore into yours. "You are, aren't you?"

You subtly glance down at the problem you gave him; it's throbbing and needs assistance. You're sure he will disapprove of you interrupting his session with a dessert offering.

With your eyes focused on the floor, you absentmindedly draw a heart in the steam evaporating on the glass shower door and say, "I made dessert when you guys were gone." When spoken out loud, your sentimental baking idea seems stupid. "I almost forgot about them and then remembered they were in the fridge, so I brought you one. I was reminiscing about when we started dating and thought about the strawberries. Anyway..."

You're rambling too much. He was pleasing himself, and here you come, waltzing in with dessert while stumbling over words like you just met him. You need to get it together.

Harry is still looking at you with his chest heaving, his left arm taut, and his large hand pressed against the shower wall while his other hand still grips his cock. His piercing eyes have become darker, and they peer down at your hand holding the strawberry. The chocolate at the tip is gradually melting. His eyes travel even further down to your bare legs, then to the heart you drew. His lips twitch.

When his gaze meets yours again, his tongue presses into his cheek before he straightens his posture. He steps toward the crack in the door and leans slanted against the shower wall, his naked body shamelessly in full view.

You wait for him to interact with the Strawberry of Nostalgia, but he just looks at you smugly. Jutting your hand further, you indicate that he should take it again. It feels like he's secretly judging you. He's barely said anything, and now he's gazing at you like he wants to eat you for dessert.

"The chocolate might melt off since it's pretty steamy in here," you mention with a nervous and breathy giggle.

Harry regards the strawberry again before moving his head toward you. "Yeah?" he says with a wicked smirk.

"Yeah," you reply, refusing to look into his eyes. "They haven't been in the fridge for very long."

He laughs huskily, then clears his throat. "Well, I'm waiting right here, darling. I'm not a huge fan of melted and mushy chocolate-covered strawberries."

So… he wants you to feed it to him. Like you did all those years ago when you first realized you were so gone for him. Good lord.

The steam in the bathroom is not helping your feverish body temperature. You take a few deep breaths before touching Harry's swollen lips, which you assume he's been biting on to suppress his noises. He maintains intense eye contact with you as he slightly opens his mouth. You guide the strawberry into it, and he bares his teeth while sensually biting the fleshy fruit.

Once half of it is in his mouth, he tilts his head and chews slowly. He groans, his eyes rolling back. "So fuckin' good."

You eat the other half to move the tension along, then throw the leafy stem on the ground. On trembling legs, you step away and admire the water droplets on Harry's lips that turn pink from the juices.

His thumb and pointer finger wipe the creases near his mouth. He then reaches through the door's crack and brushes his slick thumb across yours before sucking on it. In desperate need of relief, you clench your thighs and shakily exhale.

"I'll be good," you plead, utilizing your angel eyes to get him to give in. "I won't touch you, but please let me watch."

Harry tuts. "Are you sure you'll just watch? Or are you going to be a brat like you were with that little stunt you pulled earlier?"

It's no surprise he's still hung up on the tickling. His ego can't take what he dishes out. God forbid he teases you because you know his precious pride will be crushed as soon as you do it back.

You bite your tongue and promise yourself to be good for him. "I'm sorry for doing that. I didn't mean to be a brat. I swear I'll behave this time."

He beckons you by curling his fingers inward. "Come here, then."

You slide open the door further until you can squeeze through, then shut it tightly before standing across from him. The shower is spacious with a built-in bench the both of you have done your fair share of indecent activities on.

"Hey," Harry says lowly. "Be my good girl and sit. No talking or touching, okay? Watch me until I finish."

Nodding, you obediently sit on the bench and cross your legs to relieve the subtle pressure growing between them. You glance at Harry with innocent eyes that you know will weaken him. He gives in for a split second when he leans down and places his hands on either side of your thighs, nudging his nose against your cheek before kissing it roughly. You try not to smile at his momentary infirmity.

"Stay put, or I'll walk out of here and go straight to bed," he warns, resuming his position you walked in on, except this time he's right in front of you. His palm on the shower wall closest to you with his other gripping his cock.

This is going to be torture.

——

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