#simper says stuff

[simping-on-the-daily]

huohuo should be a professional martial artist. it'd be really funny

#hsr #honkai star rail #star rail #hsr huohuo #huohuo #sampo koski #hsr sampo #simper says stuff

[tswwwit]

So not sure if it was asked before (my apologies if so) but after rereading Faking it I’ve been wondering if what happened to Ford would have happened to Dipper if they were to switch places. Like you mentioned in the fic how Dipper realizes that the main advantage he had and the reason he wasn’t tricked by Bill is that he, as opposed to Ford, knew that Bill was a demon from the beginning. So my question is would Dipper be able to see through the flattery and lies quickly enough on his own or it would be a case of pure luck as it was with Stanford?

This hasn't been asked before, and it's a nice question!

Ford and Dipper are both intelligent. They're both ambitious and clever! But Ford's... a little more full of himself, and less emotionally intelligent. He saw Bill's arrival into his life, took his pleasant polite demeanor at face value, coveted the power and intelligence and thought: Great! This is amazing! With this creature working by my side, I can do amazing things!

Dipper in the same situation would think: Great! This is amazing! ....wait a minute. 'Great' stuff never happens out of nowhere, or at least not for free. What's the catch?

Where Ford's ambition shows him vast opportunity, Dipper's cynical nature outlines all the possible traps. Even if there aren't any there! He'd be much more of a skeptic when it came to great stuff just. Being handed to him.

Overall, Bill could have fooled Dipper - but he would've had a harder time of it.

#answers #Though that's not saying much. I imagine for Bill fooling Ford was a piece of cake #Ford was just too caught up in the enthusiasm of SCIENCE and being GREAT that he was blind to the subtler warning signs #Dipper can be fooled too! But he'd be more of a puzzle #A temptation could work on him as long as he knew what the downside or catch was #Makes it look more realistic and honest #It also gives him a Known Problem to work around and preoccupy himself #Honestly Bill's best tactic to take would be offering all the great stuff he offered Ford #*And* mention he's a demon #Or some other downside like 'once you learn X amount of things I'll own your soul' #Which is a lie but would also get Dipper calculating how *much* he could learn before said soul being taken #Trying to figure that puzzle out would keep him well distracted from a bunch of other stuff #While Bill could then create Other more Sinister problems that Dipper wouldn't think to look for #But if Bill started out with simpering flattery and sweet talking and being Nice (fake) and Polite (fake) #Dipper would have been paranoidly fending him off with a broom within the hour

[brittlebutch]

This was, frankly, a criminally underrated relatable line

#N posts stuff #dimension 20 #d20: neverafter #like ‘yeah i Am sorry that i made you uncomfortable i didn’t mean it #but Sometimes the way you react to me says more about You than it does Me’ #want to add this to my conversation script list #yeah rapunzel is a 'bad guy' but when you're right you're right #anyway on a less 'relatable' note and a more 'i love dangerous women' one #'i'm going to choke the life out of you. you simpering old fool' is a line that goes hard as hell #vid #d20lb

[daegutowns]

to be in love (csc)

tags: idol bf!cheol, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, reader is referenced as ‘noona’ and ‘girlfriend’ by svt, 95 line!reader, you surprise cheol (and the rest of svt) during practice one day, svt loves you a lot, you also love them a lot, cheol is more whipped than frosting, not proofread, i'm just going insane don't mind me

no matter how much your boyfriend choi seungcheol told you that his members probably loved you more than him, actions always spoke louder than words. as the leader of the group, seungcheol never held back in spending for the sake of his members. he affectionately called them ‘the kids’ or even sometimes ‘his kids’, and he liked giving out allowance/spending money to them. 

but, none of that mattered. at least, not right now. 

tonight was one of those nights where they had to stay up learning choreography so they could begin cleaning in the following week. by this time, their head choreography instructors were long gone and it was just the thirteen members in their dance studio. when seungcheol’s phone rang, he was at the other side of the practice studio as he went over the choreography with hoshi, mingyu, and jeonghan. 

seeing the display name ‘baby’ on seungcheol’s screen, seungkwan picked up instead. “hello? noona?” 

“oh, is this seungkwannie?” your voice asked back, excited. “hi, seungkwan-ah!” 

he smiled, greeting you back. “hi noona! seungcheol hyung is going over choreo right now with hoshi hyung, so i picked up instead.” 

“really? that’s okay,” you hummed. “i’m down in the lobby. if you or someone else isn't busy, do you mind letting me into the rest of the building?”

seungkwan’s eyes scanned around the room, trying to remember which group came next in the choreography. “i think i can send shua hyung and dokyeom hyung?” 

“okay, thank you! make sure you keep it a secret from cheollie. i’ll see you soon, then,” you replied, then ended the call. 

soon, joshua and dokyeom were excitedly making their way down to the lobby after telling everyone else they were just “going to the bathroom.” (this made woozi ask why they were going to the bathroom together, but he quickly lost interest just as fast as he asked the question.) 

when you saw the elevator doors open, you got up from the couch where you were sitting and gave them both a hug. “hi, shua,” you greeted your friend with a hug. when you pulled away, you were immediately swallowed up in another hug by dokyeom. “did dokyeommie miss noona?” 

his cute yes~ made you laugh. you held up two bags of food and two bags of drinks. “help me carry these?” you asked.

the two boys chatted with you as they took all the bags -- because no way would your boyfriend forgive them if they made his girlfriend carry their stuff. they told you that you didn’t need to bring them food, but you could already hear their stomachs growling. you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand. he was definitely hungry right now, and he would let the boys take a bite of his food before he got started. 

when the door opened to the dance studio again, seungcheol, hoshi, mingyu, and jeonghan were still working on the choreo together. but, there concentration was broken as soon as seungcheol heard your laugh. his head whipped around, confused and wondering if he was so delirious from exhaustion that he was now hallucinating your voice. he was pleasantly surprised when he saw you laughing as you pinched vernon’s cheeks as his eyes lit up at the food. (“y/n noona,” he simpered, hearts in his eyes as he grabbed a container labelled ‘bononie’.) 

hoshi called for a break, excited to see you too. it seemed like suddenly, a room full of people were swarming you, saying ‘thank you noona’ or ‘thanks y/n’ to you. by the time he got to you, seungkwan was excitedly thanking you for bringing him his favorite iced americano -- even though it was decaf. (you wanted him to be able to sleep!) 

seungcheol wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head into the crook of your head. immediately, one hand reached up to affectionately pat his cheek while the other squeezed his arm around your waist. it was so natural, the way your bodies responded to each other without even needing to talk. 

“i missed you,” he mumbled into your skin. 

you turned around, your eyes warmly gazing at him. your arms draped around the back of his neck while his own arms snaked around your waist again. (the boys were too busy digging in and talking to each other to mind the both of you flirting in front of them.) “aw, i missed you too, my cheollie. i brought your favorite from the kimbap place you like. there wasn’t anything else open this late, so i just stopped by the GS--” your words were cut off by a bunch of kisses around your face, causing you to burst into a fit of giggles. 

“i love you,” he said before he leant in to give you a proper kiss. 

before your lips met, jeonghan screamed, “YAH! take that outside. we have food in front of us.” 

seungcheol pursed lips and closed his eyes, wondering what he was going to do about his friend. you, on the other hand, were still gracious. “did our jeonghannie get sick watching us?” you asked in a baby voice, making fun of him. “tsk, just enjoy your food.” you stuck your tongue out at him, making him laugh. 

while the both of you sat down on the floor with the rest of the members, seungcheol opened his box that was labelled with his name. he even caught the order instructions stapled to the bag, where you asked for extra meat on his and to add a bunch of hearts to his name. god, just when he thought he couldn’t fall in love with you any more than this after being with you for so long! 

he admired the way that you talked to the other members, making sure to hand them napkins if you noticed food around their mouths. he admired that you had gotten off a hard day of work and the first thing you did was take care of him and the people he cared about the most after you and his blood family -- his other family, seventeen. 

when you first started dating, he was worried about them. he knew what it would be like based on other idols’ stories. you date one, you date the whole group. but, you didn’t mind it one bit. if anything, you were always excited to see the boys and were often more worried about them liking her than she was of liking them. whenever he asked you about it, you would say, “of course i love them. they’re your members.” the way you said it like it was so obvious and that any other answer was ridiculous still made butterflies swarm in his stomach. 

feeling more in love by the second, seungcheol pulled you in close, so appreciative he had someone like you in his life. he had never met anything as kind, caring, and genuine as you. he made a mental note to order whatever he had loaded into his cart for you whenever he got home that night. oh, he was going to spoil you so hard. you deserved everything you ever wanted and more.  yeah, he is so in love with you.

#daegutowns #svt fluff #svt romance #svt x reader #svt x y/n #svt x you #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x y/n #seungcheol x you #choi seungcheol fluff

[selfishdoll]

THANK YOU, THANK YOU !

men that just love saying thank you whenever eating you out ⁺ 𓂋 

୨୧   ׁ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ׅ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏   ⊹⠀⠀the art is by baileyillustration on instagram & expect more fics to be based off his drawings 🤭🤭. also if this is ooc for some characters idc i label every single character i set my eyes on as a munch 🤷🏾‍♀️.

you never knew a man could be so, so obsessed with eating you out. but your boyfriend was; always asking, always trying to persuade you whenever you got nervous or resistant simply in fear of silly stuff. stuff that didn’t matter to him. he simply enjoyed being between your legs for far too long, lips wrapped around your clit— fingers spreading you wide, even dipping in your hole every once in a while just to feel you clench around his thick digits.

that wasn’t the only thing though, it was the fact he was so very thankful whenever you said yes or simply opened your legs.

his face is covered in a simper, hands falling to your thighs and leaning down.

“thank you pretty..“ is what he’s whispering on bated breath, fanning across your already wet cunt. you couldn’t help it really, becoming aroused the moment he even brought up the idea.

he’s such a messy eater too; making you a mess between your thighs whilst gripping the withering limbs to assure you didn’t slip away. he refused to let you go, not until he got his fill of you.

your whines are ignored now, fingers gripping his hair as your hot body shook with each lap of his thick tongue. tears are dripping down your chubby cheeks, legs locking around his head and practically begging to be released from this pleasurable torture. all while your boyfriend is grinning right into your pussy, spreading your folds open with the flat of his wet muscle to lick your swollen bud even more raw. the air was dissipating, your thighs were tight, and he could hardly hear; but he didn’t give a damn. at all, you tasted way too good to let you go now.

if you somehow pull him from between your legs, he’s trying to chase after you— only easing when you tug at his hair.

“pl—please baby, i can’t—..”

your pleas fall on deaf ears, the man staring up at you; eyes lidded with, hair a mess, with your arousal and his saliva slathered onto the lower portion of his face.

his large hands are massaging your sore legs, leaning to press kisses on the inside of them.

“just one more, my love..just— fuck, can’t get enough of you..”

he says all the right things, all the time. given how easily your legs are opening again, the tight grip on his hair releasing.

and again, your lover is grinning, squeezing your legs in his large palms.

“thank you sweetheart, thank you.”

NANAMI KENTO, Kamo Choso, Jean Kirstein, Takuma Ino, JOHNNY CAGE, Fushiguro Toji, & YOUR FAVS !

#୨୧ ׁ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ׅ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ⊹⠀⠀mani’s writes⠀⠀ ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 #mani writes ━━ ★ #black!reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #mechahrt #jjk x fem!reader #mdni #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x fem reader #nanami kento x black reader #aot x black reader #aot x fem!reader #jean x reader #jean x black!reader #jean x black reader smut #choso x reader #choso x black! fem! reader #choso x reader smut #choso x black!reader #choso x black!reader smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x black!reader smut #takuma x reader #takuma ino smut #takuma ino x black!reader

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

(rafe stuff comin soon but heres a eeny beeny teeny thought!!)

stepdad!leon kennedy x obsessed!naive!reader...

shes so obsessed with him...obsessed with everything that has anything to do with him. following him around the house like a lost pup.

one day u get really jealous after overhearing a phone call he had with your mom (she's always out somewhere---either with her friends or... God knows where--so it is truly just you and leon alone). obviously you know that leon has to keep up the image of being a loving doting husband, but when you hear him say the simple words, "i miss you too--alright love you too, bye." to end the brief phone call between the two of them, your face blushes and heats up with possessiveness.

just completely taking leon by surprise--usually he is the one in control,but right now you cant take it anymore!! he was yours, not hers!!!

just bouncing on his cock and grinding ur engorged button on the trimmed hair of his pelvis as you cry. his big arms encaging your smaller body and you just feel so so good!!! except u remember the conversation between leon n ur mom and u start getting angry.

"u--u love me?" u simper out, bottom lip pulled out in a pout as tears sprout from ur eyes n fall down ur face. ur desperate.

leon adjusts his body so his head is against the pillows as you ride, his large and strong hands controlling your bouncing movements. he doesn't respond, not exactly hearing you as you clench your sopping cunt around his veiny cock, small grunts falling from his lips.

you lower a bit, your chest pressed against his as you catch his eyes with yours. "answer!" you whine, sniffling.

"wh-?" he begins, and you cut him off. his eyebrows are pulled together in both confusion and concentration.

"you l-love me, r-right daddy?" his cock is pummeling inside of your pussy as he pounds his hips up into yours.

"o-'f course I do, baby.." his voice is so soft as he takes the back of his hand, wiping away your tears and pushing your face to mesh with his, sloppy kisses sounding between the two of you.

"ur only m-mine!" you cry out again, wrapping your smaller hand around his throat. "s-say it."

"i--" he chokes out, slightly surprised by your burst of dominance that you seem to be having. however, he can see right through it. just a frightened little girl afraid of being abandoned. but he would never. you mean everything and more to him. he can feel your hand tighten around his throat, nothing too bad --and he can still breathe. its just the hint of shock that chokes him up for a second.

he can tell you are worked up. must have been worked up for some time now. poor baby, he thinks. you sometimes got this way--too many emotions that flood in ur head all at once. it was overwhelming for you, and he understood that. his hands run along your torso for a second, then slow your jackrabbit-like hips down from its quick bouncing.

"shhh," he shushes you gently and he can feel your hand loosen. your eyes are big and glossy and begging. he takes your hand from his throat and kisses your palm gently, adjusting himself again so as to sit up and be skin to skin with you. he sees how upset you are. he throws your arms around his shoulders so you can be in his lap. close to him. "i'm yours baby--yours and only yours, yeah?"

your eyes are big and pleading as he leans forward, the thrusts have momentarily halted so that he can place you properly in his lap; but he's still inside of you. he kisses your lips gently--so tenderly that it tickles. "you're everything to me, mk? i love you so much.."

you whine, feeling his hands run across your back and the sides of your torso. your still breathing heavily through your nose---but he can see your calming down. he kisses across your neck to your cheek. "gimme some deep breaths, okay?"

you nod, and he breaths deep along with you for a few seconds.

"what's got you so worked up, honey? hm?" his voice is so soft and sweet. so saccharine. it makes you melt even more in his hold.

"don' like you talkin to her.." you whimper out, and he automatically knows. you and your mom never had the best relationship. she was always very mean to you, and you especially didn't like her cuz you have seen her cheating on your stepdad. she just wanted him for money or a warm body to sleep next to. she was very verbally abusive. that is why you loved when she was gone. which she almost always was. leon knew all of this. he was planning on a divorce for a while now, but wanted to wait until you started back at college. he wanted to be with you.

"oh, sweet girl..." he sighs, kissing your lips. "she means nothing to me, baby. need you to understand that, m'okay?"

you nod, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. "mkay, daddy."

leon smiles gently before kissing you slowly, beginning to use calloused hands for a soft touch as he plays with your peaked nipples.

"know why i love kissin' you so slowly baby?" you shake your head no, a little mew leaving your lips. his tongue drags along yours. "cuz it feels like we have all the time in the world together."

you sigh at his words, beginning to start up your grinding and he helps you pick up your speed.

"all yours, princess. daddy's all yours."

#leon kennedy #tw: stepcest #stepdad!leon x reader #stepdad!leonkennedy #leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy #stepdad!leon kennedy x innocent!reader #obsessed!reader

[lilgoblinbitch]

The Archer Finds a Soulmate 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

girl dad!daryl dixon x fem!reader

a/n: this idea was offered by @yummymeee !! was trying to find fluffy daryl prompts and this one stuck with me.

summary: Daryl is a father of a young girl and has always had trouble trusting new people. When he meets you, everything changes.

warnings: none really, typical twd stuff, just some angst and fluff at the end :)

Daryl Dixon was left raising a child in the apocalypse. He didn't expect to find himself taking care of a baby all by himself after the mother of his child ended up hiding it from him, and on her death bed begging Daryl to keep the baby safe. Of course, Daryl would love his baby girl till the day he died. She was the light of his life. She was the only thing left in this cruel world that reminded him of what made life worth living.

Five years after the start of the apocalypse, Daryl was extremely lucky to have been part of a large community that actually showed not only him, but his little girl, charity and companionship. All he wished for was a safe home and chance for his daughter to grow up happy. Because he never got to have a happy childhood himself, it almost felt imperative for him to manifest his own happiness and prosperity by giving his own kid that opportunity.

"Jasmine! Get outta that pile'a crap and c'mere!"

The five-year-old girl lay on her back in mound of dirt and leaves, swishing her arms and legs back and forth. "Daddy, look! I'm making a dirt angel!"

Daryl scoffed as he peered over at his daughter, who was collecting bits of leaves and sticks and dirt in her hair and probably covering every inch of the fabric of her outfit. An outfit that Carol had recently washed, because it originally got stained with orange juice and pudding. Unfortunately little predicaments like that were bound to happen to any little kid. It didn't bother Daryl, he just didn't want to put more of a burden on Carol.

Daryl stood up from the log he was sitting on, setting the dead rabbit he was working on skinning to the side. "Jas! Ya want food or not?" He called out, waving the playful child over to him. She perked her head up at him, her dark curly hair now decorated with bits of colorful leaves and sticks, almost making her hair look like a Christmas tree in some way. The child obeyed and jumped up from the ground, shaking off the dirt that layered her clothing. And of course, they needed to be washed again.

Joining her father by the fire, Jasmine plopped down on the log across from him and simpered at him. He smiled back after examining her youthful grin and spotting the smeared dirt on her face. "Ya got dirt on yer face, silly girl. Here, wipe yer hands and face with this." He handed her a towel, one that was adorned with pink and purple flowers. She loved that little beach towel. She snatched it out of her father's hands and hastily rubbed it all over her face and hands, then tossing it on the ground. Daryl sighed in distress.

"How many more things of yers we gotta ask Carol to wash?"

"We're outside, daddy. There is dirt, and you say dirt makes us dirty. So it's got to make everything else dirty, right?" Her enthusiasm never failed to make him grin and forget what he was even upset at her about.

"A'ight, watch me, ready?" Daryl grabbed the dead rabbit and continued skinning it, making sure Jasmine was watching him. Her face contorted in disgust.

"I don't wanna do that, daddy! It's gross and it hurts the rabbit."

He ignored her complaining and continued skinning it. "It's dead already. Didn't feel any pain, I promise," he reassured the child. "I just needed to show ya how yer dad makes yer all-time favorite food: rabbit stew."

The little girl shook her head. "No, my favorite food is Carol's cookies, and the Kingdom's cobbler!"

Daryl rolled his eyes, finishing up skinning the rabbit and then sticking it on a stick and placing it over the fire. Throughout their meal, Daryl told her about the time he first ever had to eat rabbit, and how he was around her age. His daughter was always absolutely thrilled to hear stories, especially from her father. She admired him more than he realized. And she looked forward to every Thursday afternoon, because that's when Daryl took her out for walks in the woods, pointing out various plants and showing her how to differentiate between animal tracks and walker tracks. Of course, she was too young to fully understand everything he taught her, but it made him more comfortable knowing that she was learning early on.

Some nights Daryl lay awake, tossing and turning only to say "fuck it" and go out in the woods where he could ease his mind, while his daughter was already fast asleep in the room across the hall. He loved being alone in the woods; just him and no one else to disturb him for a few hours.

However, one night he ended up acquiring company from an unexpected individual: you. Daryl didn't know very much about you, besides the fact that you joined Alexandria not too long after he and his group did. You were quiet and reserved, always keeping to yourself and never being found in large crowds because you were always more content when alone. Daryl often found himself following you into the woods to see what you even did out there, but you were just too quick to spy on. And truthfully, you were afraid of Daryl. You had seen how similar he was to you in some ways; his love for nature and serenity and the comfort of being isolated from the loudness of the community you lived in. You observed him going into the woods and not coming back out for hours, just as you did. He ended up becoming a valued member of Alexandria as he helped Aaron recruit new members to the community. He was becoming more outspoken than you, and that seemed to make you nervous.

Tonight, curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go and see what it was that Daryl the archer father did late at night in the woods, all alone.

Daryl did not anticipate anyone to be as good of a tracker as he was, especially in the dark of night. But being the daughter of a hunter father ended up advantaging you with that skill. So when he heard footsteps and prepared to send an arrow flying and landing between the eyes of a walker, but ended up being face to face with you, he was surprised to say the least.

"Hey, um, Daryl right?" Your flashlight beamed onto his face, and he squinted. "Sorry," you turned it off and shoved it in your pocket, "I just, um...I always see you out here, and I'm always out here, so..."

"So what?" Daryl wasn't in the mood for visitors, especially not annoyingly beautiful women such as yourself. You made him nervous.

Daryl kicked the dirt around with his feet, not looking up at you as you continued to speak to him. "Look, I'm not really a people person, and you probably want nothing to do with me because I never talked to you before...but I–" you stopped to look down at the dirt and shuffle your feet in it as well, involuntarily mimicking Daryl. "I dunno, I just need a friend, I think."

You could feel Daryl's eyes on you now, the glow of the small fire illuminating his auburn hair and the specks of hair on his beard. You swallowed hard, becoming a nervous wreck under his hard gaze. "Why me?" Was all he managed to say after studying your face. You finally made eye contact with him after mustering up the courage to do so. He had pretty eyes.

"Because I think we're alike in a lot of ways." You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and leaned against the thick tree beside you. "And honestly, you're one of the only people I know of that has better tracking skills than me," you added, voice soft and unsure. Unsure of what the mysterious man in front of you was thinking. It seemed like he had so much going on in his head all the time, and that's because he did. His thoughts raced, thoughts about you and how pretty you looked under the sparkling fire and why the hell you were talking to a loser single dad like him.

But you didn't see him like that. You were intimidated by him – always have been, except this time he intimidated you in a way you never expected. He made you want to open up to him, because you could tell now that he was just like you. You went your whole life never wanting to be seen by anyone, but Daryl changed that.

Daryl's lack of words left you in your thoughts once again. What if that was his sign for you to scram? What if he hated you? What if he thought you were a fucking creep for sneaking up on him in the middle of the night in the woods? You couldn't handle the fear of rejection so you took matters into your own hands.

Sighing in defeat, you turned on your heal and started for the other direction back to Alexandria, until you were abruptly stopped in your tracks.

"Wait."

Daryl did not wish for you to leave. He believed you. You were like him. "Ya wanna come hunting?"

Your eyes lit up in elation, and you smiled at him. "Yeah, I'd love to."

After a only a few weeks, you and Daryl became friends. He properly introduced you to his daughter Jasmine, who when meeting you for the first time told you, "You're pretty!" It melted your heart. Yours and Daryl's friendship grew drastically from then on. You respected him a lot, as he did you. The two of you were able to teach each other things about nature and hunting that the other had no clue about; you taught Daryl which herbs were best for different things, and he taught you how to shoot with a crossbow. Of course, your bow and arrow and your dagger were just enough for you already, but it pleased you to know that Daryl actually wanted to teach you.

Soon enough it was evident that you and Daryl were growing a deeper connection than the two of you originally anticipated. But somehow you weren't scared of it. You felt content around him, and it was clear that he felt that way about you, too.

"Jasmine!" Daryl called out, frantically searching the woods for his pesky little daughter. The sun was setting over the tree line ahead of him, clouds painted orange and pink. It was going to be dark soon, and he had no idea where his daughter had run off to.

Daryl found his feet moving on their own, eyes shifting around his surroundings while he attempted to track the footsteps of his daughter. "Jas! C'mon let's go!" Suddenly the sound of a twig snapping filled the air. His heartbeat quickened, and his paternal instincts kicked in. He raced toward the sound, crossbow at the ready.

He was just about ready to shoot whatever was hiding behind the tree but when he saw you walking with Jasmine he stopped in his tracks, lowering his weapon. You and Jasmine both glanced up at him simultaneously, and the little girl ran up to her father and hugged him. A sigh of relief overcame him as he bent down to hug her back. You beamed down at the two of them, admiring how touching the sight was.

"Where were ya?" Daryl stood back up, moving his focus between both you and his daughter. You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm, but the fact that his daughter was running off in the woods without him made him feel uneasy and on edge.

"Don't worry, I found her by a stream back there. She told me she wanted to learn how to catch frogs," you reassured him. He grinned and looked down at the girl, who was carrying a red bucket full of croaking amphibians.

"Look how many I caught, daddy!" She lifted the bucket up to Daryl and he peered into it. "Well someone's a professional frog catcher now, ey?" He teased.

The three of you reached the gates and Jasmine hurriedly ran down the street to the other kids outside. You smiled and turned to Daryl, who was already staring at you. You blushed and looked down at your feet.

"Sorry, I should have told you she was with me. She just seemed so excited and I couldn't say no, so–"

"Nah. Don't need to apologize," he interrupted, reaching his hand up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "I, uh, thank you, fer watchin' her."

A gentle breeze drifted through your hair and you brushed stray strands out of your face, all the while Daryl shifted his weight and gathered the pith to express his feelings at that moment. He needed to get it off his chest.

Your doe eyes only impelled him further.

"Uh..." his anxious eyes finally met your passionate ones. "I think Jas might enjoy having ya over fer dinner t'night."

This time you tittered, nodding your head enthusiastically. "If this is your way of wanting more of my company, just say it, Daryl." Your face muscles seriously ached from smiling so hard. "I... I like you. And I would love to come over, honestly, any time."

Daryl's face flushed a shade of pink you'd never seen on him before. It made you giddy. "I like ya too."

That moment felt so cliche – it felt like you and Daryl were part of a silly teenage romcom film. But you two earned that cliche moment. You were surprisingly capable of harvesting a healthy connection with someone who really meant a lot to you.

The magnetic pull between the two of you grew stronger and stronger, reeling your body closer to his. Your hand instinctively brushed against his, making Daryl's insides mushy.

A smirk ran across yours lips and you grabbed Daryl's hand firmly. "C'mon, let's go make some food for tonight."

That evening you cooked venison stew for Daryl and his daughter, by gratitude of the huge buck Daryl scored earlier that morning. Secretly you loved to cook, but you'd only ever cook for someone who was special to you; back in the day you'd always cook for your father after he'd go out hunting and bring back game that gave you an opportunity to create a mouth-watering recipe. Today, that special someone was Daryl. You truly believed he deserved a decent meal from you after everything he'd done for you. He won your trust and respect – even more so your love.

"Thank you."

Daryl was sprawled out on the couch, staring up at you as you had finished cleaning up the dishes. He had already tucked Jasmine into bed up stairs, afterward coming back down to gawk at you.

You wiped your hands on a towel and set it on the counter, turning your attention the the comfortable man on the couch. "No need to thank me. I wanted to cook for you." You joined him on the couch, drowning in the soft cushion and taking in the homey vibe of his living room.

He sat up, turning his body toward you. That expression was painted on his face again – the one that told you he was doubting himself, or that he was trying really hard to articulate his emotions. You took his hands in yours, a decision that caught Daryl by surprise. "You don't need to doubt yourself anymore. I know what you're feeling, trust me."

Your reassurance kindled the spark of courage Daryl so desperately needed. It was as if you were his god, his creator – the one to send him the message from the sky to tell him it was his time to listen to his heart. And so he did.

The archer's rough, calloused fingers traced shapes over the dry skin of your hands. Your gaze melted him like plastic by the fire, and the words your spoke to him spilled from your lips like a prayer.

"Kiss me, Daryl."

Carefully Daryl parted his lips while searching your face for any uncertainties; there were none. And so he kissed you. He kissed you like you were a porcelain doll, suppressing his strength as to not break you. He wanted this kiss to last forever, and so did you.

Daryl trusted his gut that you were the one for him, and boy was that the best decision he ever made right there and then.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #twd daryl #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #soft girl dad daryl dixon 🥹 #angsty romantic daryl dixon #goblin writes #daryl dixon angst #dad!daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixion imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x fem!reader

[licorice-tea]

Could I Be Loved By You? Pt. 2

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x reader, Usopp x reader, Nami x reader (separate)

Content: some suggestive jokes in usopp’s part, just general silliness besides that!

Word Count: 0.9k (total)

A/N: first time writing for all three of these characters- say whatttt! usopp’s part is my fave, but i love all of them!!! also if you check my master list for more content or anything, just know that im working on making it looks more aesthetically pleasing (it’s a mess right now😓) anyway thanks for reading and enjoy <3

Part 1

What happens when you ask them; “Do you think we’re together in every universe?”

Nami - 0.2k

With a singsongy voice, you announce your presence to Nami. “Babe!”

“Y/n!” She responds in a similar cadence. However, she doesn’t look up from drawing her map.

You round her desk so that you’re standing behind it, and she finishes off a line before setting down her pen. “What’s up?”

“I have a question for you.”

“Mhm…?”

“Ok. Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t laugh at you, babe.” Well, she might, but only out of endearment.

“So… Um, do you think that we would be together in every universe?”

Her lips, once pressed together in a resting expression, curve upwards. The shake of her shoulders is an unmistakable sign of held back laughter, which is only solidified by her hand covering her mouth.

“Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!” But in all fairness, you’re smiling too. It’s a silly sort of question.

“I’m not, I’m not!” She defends herself through giggles, then clears her throat.

“So, do you think so or not?”

Nami taps her chin with a smirk. “Yes. Yes I do.” The faintest blush colors her cheeks, though she’s much too proud to ever admit to being flustered by the idea. To think; you want to be with her just as badly as she does you, in any every lifetime or world where the two of you coexist. It’s enough to make even her swoon.

“Awww, so you do love me!” You tease. Your next course of action is to run out the door before she can (lovingly) hurl a book at you.

Monkey D. Luffy - 0.3k

You and Luffy are the last crewmates left at the table. Neither of you were late to dinner, nor were you ever. No, you had arrived to the dining room on time (even a little early), but he is still on his 3rd main course. Meanwhile, you are a slow eater. It’s no bother, though; you’d take almost any opportunity to spend time alone with Luffy.

With a soft smile, you tilt your head as you watch your boyfriend and captain stuff his face.

He pauses, noticing your staring. “What? Something on my face?” He licks his lips.

You shake your head. “I was just thinking.”

“Oh, ‘bout what?”

“Do you think we’re like this in every universe?”

“Like what? Still hungry? I know I am!”

“No,” you giggle, “I mean like… in love. A couple.”

This time, Luffy is the one to giggle at your curiosity. “What a weird question, y/n.” He cracks his blinding grin at you. “Of course we are.”

Luffy proceeds to stretch one arm around the back of your chair and pulls it closer to his. The proximity allows you to lay your head on his shoulder, and now everything feels right with the world…

Still, the “what if” scenario runs rampant in your imagination. “But if there is a world where we aren’t-“

“Just means we haven’t met yet.”

“… Hm. I guess you’re right.”

“Yeah, and I found you this time, right? So, I always will.” He says it all like it’s some simple, known truth. As if there are no doubts in his mind- nor should there be in yours- that you’re meant to be together. It’s not surprising though, given Luffy’s view on his own destiny. Naturally, yours is part of his, and vice versa.

With a simper, you swipe your thumb over the corner of his lips to brush away a crumb. “Or maybe I’ll find you.”

Usopp - 0.4k

You and Usopp like to play this sort of game where you ask each other questions. Sometimes they’re deep and introspective, others silly and random. It’s not really a game, per say, but… Well, it’s a fun little thing for when you’ve exhausted other topics of conversation or both of you are bored of other, cleverer topics.

“Ok, favorite temperature?”

“Favorite temperature? That's so specific!”

He chuckles. “Thats the point, baby.”

You hum in agreement before responding. “True… 74 degrees.”

“Celsius, or fahrenheit?”

“…Usopp.” You deadpan. “74 degree celsius would be, like…”

“Around 165 degrees fahrenheit.” He grins proudly. How some people, such as your boyfriend, are such naturals at mental math, you would never understand.

“Hmph… if you say so. But, yeah, why would I say my favorite temperature is 165 degrees fahrenheit?”

Usopp shrugs, “I wouldn’t put it past you; I know you like things hot.”

You’re too caught up in the way he leans toward you teasingly to notice his arms snaking around your waist. Without warning, he pulls you close to his chest. You shriek as Usopp spins you around, but your arms remain looped around his shoulders even after he sets you down.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“I think you enjoyed it.”

And you did, so you just smile and accept defeat. It’s your turn to ask a question now. “Do you think we’d be together in every universe?”

His smile falters. “I… Well, I don’t know.”

“…Oh.”

“I want to be, of course, I just…”

“Just what?”

“You have so many choices, y/n. Who’s to say you’d always choose me? I definitely wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, in this hypothetical alternate-“

Your lips stop his from moving with a forceful kiss. They linger there, just for a few moments, before you pull back less than an inch away. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Sorry.”

“And don’t apologize. I’d always choose you, Usopp, no matter what.”

His confidence grows back, along with his smile. “Then yes,” Usopp places another small peck to your lips and pulls away to gauge your reaction, “I think we would be together in every universe.”

Your eyes seem to shine with some emotion that could only be described as love. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #nami x reader #cat burglar nami #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #straw hat luffy #usopp x reader #god usopp #straw hats #straw hat pirates #straw hats x reader #fluff

[suguru-getos]

Happy Birthday Keigo! 🎉

-> Hawks x F!Reader

A/N: Mentions of Keigo’s birthday in the Takami household, along with your son. <3 This is just pure, self indulgent fluff tbh. I was gonna write smut that can come later 🤭❤️‍🔥 happy birthday to the love of my life, the light of my life - Takami Keigo ^^

As the number two hero of Japan, the most sought out, the most popular & famous. Keigo’s birthday sure isn’t all that sought out. He’s busy with meetings & PR, while you thought you could spend the birthday eve with him. You’re so annoyed but at the same time helpless— what can you do really? It’s not like he is purposely doing this. Purposely being busy… he’s not.

Your eyes dart towards the clock. 12:00 am on the dot. You pout, rummaging through the bedsheets to find your phone. Fine, you can make do with a text message. Calling him while he’s in a meeting gets embarrassing for others moreso than Hawks. You see, he has no regard for other people. He would simper around, call you his baby, say he loves you… while other people would awkwardly try to stomach the #2 hero being whipped. You pout when you open his text tab, typing out a short.

You (12:00 am): Happy birthday daddy! <33

The message isn’t seen yet, and you sulk harder, shoulders drooping as you sigh & lean against the bedsheets. Yep, you could much rather scroll through TikTok instead. At least, the Hawks fandom would be active & would care about his birthday. Something you have in commonality.

Your son was peacefully asleep in his room. He’s turning three soon, and you couldn’t really wait to see him grow. Thoughts of him already idolising Keigo ripple through your mind as you smile faintly. That’s when you’re invited into a lull slumber.

The next morning when you’re awake, you pout instantly. Fucked was your whole plan to spend his birthday eve together. Keigo had officially turned 27 today. A low rumble of his melodious voice echoed through the kitchen, mingled with the clattering of your son’s indulgent ‘helper’ whines as he prepares stuff with Dadda. Your heart warms, and you quickly rush.

“Good morning Kei, morning Ai.” You call him, and your son who’s wings puff up instantly upon seeing his mother. “Mama mornin!” He chirps, and Keigo grins back, “Oh good morning sunshine, you look gorgeous— haven’t told ya that everyday as if~” Keigo scoffed dramatically, leaning in and kissing you softly.

“Happy birthday…” you hum, running your hands through his hair, forgetting everything and why you were a little testy upon him. “Thank you babygirl.” He croons, nuzzling against your neck and giving a chaste kiss.

“M’ sorry I was so carried away by work y’know. Hate to be the hero sometimes.” He winked, ushering you towards your seat in the dining area. “Made yer favorite!” He beams, loitering through the culinary crockery.

“It’s your birthday, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the spoiling!” You audibly whine, making Aideen (your son), giggle up. “Mama spoilin’!!” He repeated innocently, and you nodded with a grin. “Yes baby, today’s Dadda’s birthday.” You hum, kissing his cheek. “C’mon, wish him a happy birthday.”

Your son glanced up at Keigo, who’s eyes softened instantly at the two individuals he would cut his heart up for. Ai tried, fumbling a soft, “Appy bufday Dadda” but the cheerfulness of the wish has Keigo’s eyes waver & gloss up. You pat Ai on the head, grinning. “Oh good boy, that was such a good birthday wish!”

The thing is, you and Keigo didn’t have to try the whole ‘gentle parenting’ thing ever. Luckily, you knew exactly what were the good parts you would like to pick up from your parents. Keigo knew exactly what he doesn’t want to be. Parenting came naturally. Though, there were times you found Hawks rather confused… but you were always there with him, holding a hand.

“Ai’s gonna start Nursery soon.” You hum, while cutting up the fruits and dipping them in maple syrup. “Yeah, I know Sweetie.” Keigo smiled, looking at you and scanning your face for any emotion remotely close to worry. “You know he’s going to do well, right?” He asks, hand reflectively brushing against yours.

“Yeah, but he’s the son of a very famous Hero.” You looked up, biting your lip a little out of nervousness. You haven’t been a celebrity kid. Hell you don’t even know how it would feel. These past four years with your man has only taught you never to go out without looking your best. You’ve been papped several times after all.

In the begining of the relationship, it was so troublesome and hard for you. Wherever you went with Hawks — the paparazzi followed like a flock. You & Keigo both have been successful in hiding Ai’s face from the media so long. Part of you wants to keep him safe so that no one could ever see what your son looks like, let alone trouble him.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the school would be incredibly secure. I’d ask you to get him homeschooled but then I know we both don’t wanna deprave him off a normal life yeah?” Keigo coos, kissing your forehead. You nod, seemingly half-convinced still.

“Mmm, how about I send a silly little feather along?” You perk up at that idea, that was fantastic!

“That sounds okay. That way you’d know what’s up.” You smiled, observing his golden eyes dilate the moment a smile festered on your face. Gosh he was so visible with all his desperate and unconditional love towards you.

“Atta girl! Keep that smile on for me all day! Today’s my birthday and I get to have whatever I want.” Keigo grinned wide, and you nodded in approval.

“So I was thinkin’ maybe we could go out today… y’know like one of those times when I book a sneazy comfy place where there’s snow & there’s warm fireplace & there’s a lotta~” he leaned in, whispering the next part, “sex.”

You cackled, you knew Ai wouldn’t understand yet, but he’s of that age where he continually repeats words over & over. He repeated ‘Fuck’ over and over once Keigo slipped it out & had you reign hell fire upon the house. That was the first and the last time your husband did that mistake though. Ever so sharp & ever so careful (mostly).

“I’m in, want to spend all my time with you.” You confessed like a blushy highschooler, and Keigo grinned.

“Well a fuckin’ happy birthday to me then!”

“Fuckin’ appy bufday!” Ai repeated.

“Oh- no.” Hawks facepalmed.

#hawks bnha #bnha hawks #hawks imagines #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha fluff #hawks fluff #bnha fluff #hawks x reader fluff #bnha x reader fluff #mha x reader fluff

[simping-on-the-daily]

Overblot supremacy

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst overblot #overblot leona #overblot riddle #overblot azul #overblot jamil #overblot vil #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #technically??? idk man #simper says stuff

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

R. M. Renfield

Mentally ill queer man writes mentally ill queer character. 200 years later, Dracula Daily happens and everyone in their mother immediately starts poking fun at him, demonizing him, or treating him like a naive child when none of these things are true. I could write a darn essay about Renfield and his role in the story. His status as a servant of Dracula is kept hidden from our heroes despite how obvious it is to the modern reader, and it turns into a striking example of dramatic irony. But at the same time, he's not a simpering servant; he's psychotic and Dracula feeds his delusion for his own gain. His death isn't a sacrifice, it's a tragic end to a story about the effects of isolation on the mind and the suffering that can come about from people refusing to listen to those who aren't like them. Pretty damned amusing, then, that absolutely no one seems to listen to the words that come out of his mouth.

Izzy Hands

people hate this guy. people HATE this guy. and for what? "hes abusive" you are out of your MIND if you actually think that. let middle aged men be messy jilted lovers, goddamn!!!!

Oh my gods, fandom has lost their minds with this one. People act like Izzy is the devil himself and actually it's his fault that the main love interest of the show has ever done anything wrong ever. Every bad thing in the show? Actually Izzy's fault. I've seen people literally, actually say he deserved his abuse and that it's his fault his abuser hurt him and that he liked it. I have seen people unironically say that his abuser should have killed him. I've seen people say that Edward Teach (y'know, literal Blackbeard who explicitly says in canon, with his mouth, "I love a good maim" would never have done anything violent ever if it wasn't for Izzy's manipulation. This is, of course, ignoring that Ed's first acts if violence were before he ever even met Izzy

So Ed and Izzy have a toxic relationship and do bad stuff to each other. And Izzy fans will minimize the shit Izzy did while bringing up what he suffered. And Ed fans will maximize the shit Izzy did and forgot the rest. Honestly I'm might be bringing a lot of anger on the blog for this, sorry.

#misrepresented morally grey #round 2 #bracket c #both bracket #dracula daily #r m renfield #our flag means death #izzy hands

[leviathans-watching]

Something I find funny that I've noticed

When you set Belphegor as your homepage demon, when you interact w/ him like a surprise guest he says "you're free, right? I know you are. Come shopping with me" before you can interact with him.

Belphegor likes shopping apparently? Honestly thought he'd ask the player to nap with him or something.

So now it's going me thinking

What if whenever all three of them are free, Belphegor, Asmo, and the player go shopping together?

I think that'd be funny/fun lol.

shopping with asmo & belphie

includes: asmo, belphie x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .4k | rated t | m.list

a/n: hehe this was so cute!! thanks for requesting! my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback, so come say hi!!

reblog this pls XD

“no! asmo, put that down! i’m sick of trying on clothes,” you insist, giving him a glare. you’re exhausted and sweaty, and the thought of trying even one more thing on sends rage through your body.

asmo pouts, but seems to recognize how close you are to losing your shit and puts the shirt back. belphie, next to him, chuckles.

“don’t you start,” you warn waspishly. you need like, a gallon of water. “i’m only here because you dragged me, so i don’t even understand why you guys are trying to get me to buy stuff. i thought this was about getting belphie new clothes.”

“we just want you to look and feel cute,” asmo simpers, and you roll your eyes.

“i can do that perfectly fine in the clothes i already own. now, belphie, if you don’t get me to a food court in the next fifteen minutes, i’m going to lose it.”

“you sound like beel,” belphie mutters, and you eye a lady who rudely shoves past you, not even bothering to say ‘excuse me’ and with you could tear out her soul and devour it.

“oh, you have no idea.”

this sends them both into another round of chuckles, and you put your face in your hands, slowly counting to ten.

“hey, i think we broke mc,” asmo stage-whispers after a long moment, and belphie snickers.

“belphie,” you say from between your fingers, not looking up lest you fly into a blind rage and attempt to rip that smirk off of his face, “take that armful of clothes and go into a fitting room. only come out on three of them for me to look at. got it?”

belphie sighs. “you’re no fun.”

“i’m hangry!”

“fine, fine,” he says, and you stand, following him toward the fitting room.

“make sure to take lots of pictures!” asmo calls at his back, and you pinch him.

“what?” he yelps.

“do not make him take any longer than nessescary.”

he grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “awww, mc, you’re so cute when you’re mad.”

“you won’t think i’m so cute when i kill you and make belphie help me leave you in the dumpster,” you respond.

“i’d be down with that!” belphie calls from the stall, and asmo gasps. “after that, mc, we can get sushi.”

“sounds like a plan,” you say, some of your irritation dissipating. you lean into asmo, just slightly, and wait for belphie to exit the fitting room.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

#obey me #obey me game #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me x you #obey me x reader #asmodeus obey me #asmo obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #belphie obey me #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #belphegor obey me #asmo x you #belphie x you #belphie x reader #asmo x reader #anon ask #answered asks #leviswriting #leviswriting-obeyme

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Who'd You Have to Blow to Get That Part?"

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Tags: mild D/s elements, mild degradation, reference to past sexual encounters, slight daddy kink, lovers to enemies

Summary: Ransom won't let you leave the room until you agree to go out with him again.

You’ve been ignoring Ransom’s calls for a week when he finally corners you in your dressing room

“Well well well,” he simpers. “The Lyceum. You’re really making your way up from the chorus line, little girl.” You glare at him and he chuckles, doing a slow walk around your body, appraising you in a way that manages to feel both admiring and ridiculing at the same time. He plucks at the ribboned hoop of one of your panniers as he passes. “Well, la-dee-da,” he mocks. “What on earth is this? I think I like it.”

You swat at his retreating hand with a huff. “Who let you back here, Ransom?” 

“Oh didn’t you know I know everybody? The director’s an old friend. He knows I have an interest in … the theater. Said I could poke around backstage if I wanted.”

“Great. I’m sure he didn’t mean in my dressing room.”

“Your very own dressing room, by the way: how fancy.” He doesn’t look at you as he says it, instead sauntering along past the couch and then over to the dressing table, feeling free to snoop around. You cringe when his fingers drag across the vanity top and land on the script you’ve left lying there. He picks it up and starts flipping through its pages. “Hmm …”

You fluster at the idea of him seeing all the notes you’ve scribbled in the margins. “Do you mind not touching my stuff?” you gripe. “Ugh.” Looking around for your robe, you spot it draped over the back of the dressing chair but realize that it won’t stretch around when you’re wearing the panniers. You huff and try to plant your hands on your hips assertively—a motion that is likewise hindered. You settle for gripping the sides of your whalebone-stiffened waist. “I don’t have time for this. Why are you here?”

“You’re one of the leads,” Ransom says, feigning impressed as he waves the packet of papers in the air. “So Daddy finally bought you a speaking part, huh?”

You feel your cheeks heat, hating him with every fiber of your being. “No,” you grit, hurrying over to snatch the script from his hands and set it back on the table. “I got this part myself, you insufferable piece of shit.”

“Been practicing those blowjob skills, then?”

Your jaw works as you fight not to react. “Why are you here?”

“I tried calling,” he says. “But you’re surprisingly hard to get a hold of these days.”

“Ever consider that I lost your number?”

“Mmm, I don’t think that’s it.” He smirks and leans in close enough that you can smell his cologne, can see every detail of that stupid-pretty face, the hair that’s gelled and combed to perfection. He looks good, just like he always does, which only makes you hate him more. “I haven’t seen you twirling in your usual circles, bunny,” purrs. "Not since we parted ways. What’s it been now, three months?”

“Five,” you say tightly. “Though who’s counting?”

“Clearly not you,” he teases, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll admit I’ve hardly thought of you at all, since then, but …” He’s wearing a camel-colored coat and cashmere scarf, and he reaches past said coat’s lapel to produce a single, long-stemmed rose, presenting it to you with an earnest pout. “I heard about the role. Thought I’d stop by and congratulate you, see how you’re doing.” He lets his gaze drag over your half-dressed form again, eyeing you up appreciatively. “I still think about you, you know.”

“I thought you’d hardly thought about me at all."

He looks surprised for a second, before he’s chuckling at you again with that trademark blend of affection and condescension that you wish you hated more than you do. “Oh, bunny,” he coos, nudging your chin with the rose’s fragrant bloom. “You pay attention to what I say. I always liked that about you. That’s just how you are, isn’t it? So attentive, such a good girl.” You color mightily at that, too flustered to think of a waspish response like you want to. He sees this and smirks, dragging the rose’s velvet petals over your lips and humming in satisfaction when you hastily snatch it from his hand. “There we go,” he praises softly. “Pretty flower for a pretty girl. Though I worry how you’re doing when you don’t turn up in public for months on end.”

You force a prim smile. “That’s sweet, but I don’t need you to worry about me, or bring me gifts.” You turn around and stick the rose into a nearby vase, which already has a number of similar blossoms in it. Ransom’s is the biggest and freshest, but you rearrange it into the middle of the pack so that it doesn’t stand out as much. “And I’m doing just fine, if you really want to know.”

“Are you, though?” he presses. He steps closer, close enough that the frame of the panniers presses against his pants, and it’s easy for him to reach up and finger the strap of your stays. “I seem to remember you being quite the social butterfly.”

“Yep. That’s me.”

“You’ve missed the last several big events of the season, and I know you well enough to know that it’s not like you to play the shut-in.” He traces the strap from your shoulder, down to the top of the busk. You see his blond eyelashes lower onto his smug fucking cheeks as he shamelessly leers at the swell of your breasts, his fingers hovering just over the skin. “Who’re you supposed to be?” he asks. “Marie Antoinette?”

You scoff and push past him. “Unlike you, I get busy. I actually work for a living. And yes, that sometimes means that frivolous parties aren’t my number one engagement. So if you’ll excuse me.” You’re supposed to be over in wardrobe, getting fitted for your costumes. Danielle is probably already waiting for you. But Ransom blocks the door when you try to leave, and he does nothing to disguise the way he looks at your body when you stand back to regard him with another huff. “Ransom, move.”

“You should wear corsets more often,” he drawls, ignoring your protests entirely. “It actually makes your waist look tiny.”

You glare at him and try to move around him to grab the door handle, but he leans back against it so that you can’t pull it open. He grins, eyes raking over you from head to toe. You fight not to squirm, feeling more ridiculous than anything else, decked out as you are in your eighteenth century reproduction undergarments. You sigh and stand back, frustrated at how goddamn entitled he is. “What do you want?” you ask, knowing that he wouldn’t be here bugging you right now if he didn’t want something. 

“I want to give us another try,” he says. 

You wait for the punchline, or for him to crack a mean smile and laugh at how gullible you are, but neither happens and you’re left standing there blinking at him like a dummy, heart in your throat. “What?” 

“You heard me.” He pushes off from the door and stares you down as he steps up close. He cups your face in a palm that’s soft from never having seen a day of work in its life. You have to fight not to press your cheek into it, and of course he notices, the overconfident prick. “I think we called things off too soon,” he murmurs. “Don’t you?”

“‘We’? You’re the one who ended it.”

He frowns thoughtfully. “Hhhm, did I though?”

“Yes.”

“Ehh, I don’t know if I remember it that way.”

You purse your lips. “I said I wanted to be exclusive, and you called me clingy.”

“Well that’s hardly ‘ending’ things …”

You scoff. “You said my pussy wasn’t ‘anything to write home about’ and left me at the restaurant.”

“Hmm. Well … maybe I was too hasty.”

“Yeah, right. ‘Hasty’.” More like genetically predisposed to assholery, you think.

“Hey, I mean it.” He grabs you when you try to move around him, holding you still by your upper arms.

“Let me go.”

“Maybe I never gave things between us a real chance, bunny” he says, trying to ply you with his words and sheer proximity. “That’s what I’ve been thinking these past months. That I let you go too soon, didn’t think things through. That I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“More like your dick,” you mutter, but he ignores you. 

“After all, we had good times together, didn’t we? And you always look amazing on my arm, and the sex was soo …” he trails off, letting his fingers trace your skin. His mouth twitches when he notices your breathing picking up, your chest heaving visibly against the front of the stays. “Come on, princess. Just think about it,” he coaxes, leaning in to whisper against your ear. “You and I fit so well together. Don’t you remember how it was?”

You shiver instinctively, body reacting to the words he’s murmuring so intimately against you, to the way he’s touching you like he owns you. “Ransom,” you breathe. “I don’t—”

“I miss you, you know. I do. In my life, in my bed. I don’t like waking up alone.”

You ignore the flutter in your belly at hearing him admit that, and force yourself to shrug his hands away. “Well that would be your problem, not mine,” you say. He’s not good for you, and letting him bust in like this and insinuate himself back into your life will only lead to disappointment at best, heartbreak at worst. “Excuse me,” you grit when he walks backwards to block the door again. So fucking entitled. “Seriously, Ransom. I have somewhere to be!”

“I don’t really care. We’re not finished here,” he growls, eyes losing their charming sheen. “You can leave when I’m done talking to you.”

Your core clenches at those domineering words, and you have to square your jaw before you can bring yourself to insist, “Ransom, get out of the way. I’m warning you …”

“No, I’m warning you,” he says darkly, grabbing your arm and yanking you in hard against him. You gasp and catch yourself with a hand against his chest, but he keeps you off balance as his other arm scoops in behind you and holds you tight to him by your lower back. “Mmm, I like this,” he purrs, fingers finding the laces of your stays and grabbing onto them. He grabs you by the back of your neck with one hand while he tugs at the laces with the other. “Makes a nice handle. Good for moving you where I want you.”

“Get your hands off me.”

He tugs the laces again, jostling you forcefully. “Thought you liked it when I handle you.”

“What I’d like is for you to let me go,” you grit. 

But he only narrows his eyes and sticks his face closer in yours. When he speaks, his breath fans out warm against your lips. “You’re confused, bunny. I should bend you over that vanity and remind you just how much you like it.”

To your shame, his manhandling and his domineering words turn you on, and you know he can tell—he can always tell what he does to you. That’s part of what makes him so infuriating, and so dangerous. “Let go of me,” you say lowly, surprised (and disappointed) when he actually listens, his hands releasing you so suddenly that you stumble back a step in your heels. His eyes bore into you slyly as you huff and right yourself. “What is your problem?!” you fume at him. 

“Come with me to the Governor’s Ball,” he demands, confident and cocky as always, as if the past few minutes and your numerous refusals haven’t even happened. “You have an invitation, I presume?”

You glower at him. “Of course I do, you twat.” Given that your father is the Governor, it’d be odd indeed if you didn’t have an invite. “Awful presumptuous of you that I don’t have plans to go with somebody else,” you snap. “After the way you treated me? I wouldn’t take you as my date to a dive bar.”

He chuckles, and it’s in that low, self-assured way that drives you absolutely bonkers and makes you feel like a “pick me” girl all at the same time. “Oh, bunny. You think I don’t know you better than that?”

You shoulder your way around him to yank open the door. “You don’t know me at all, jerk.” 

You inhale sharply when his hand clamps around your wrist and he shoves into you from behind suddenly, pressing you up against the door and slamming it shut with your combined bodyweight. “I know you better than any man alive, princess,” he hisses, grinding his hips against your ass and kissing your cheekbone in gentle counterpoint when you gasp at his audacity. “Shhh shsh,” he hushes. “Don’t worry, now. You’ll have an excellent time, I promise. Now, you go get fitted for your little costume, and I’ll send a car to pick you up Saturday evening. Say nine o’clock?”

You huff, flustered by what an utterly presumptuous asshole he is (and by the way your cunt is clenching on nothing, being pressed up against a surface full-body by him like this). “You know what your problem is, Ransom?”

He drags his nose across your cheek with a chuckle. “What’s that, bunny?”

You can’t get as much leverage as you’d like, pressed up against the door the way you are, but you do your best and jab back into his solar plexus. And his shocked, breathless grunt is a satisfying indicator that your elbow has met its mark. You turn around and take his face between your hands to peck a kiss of your own to his cheek. “It’s that people’ve been paid to make you think you’re better than you are your whole life,” you whisper sweetly. You kiss his cheek and then let him go, leaving the room before he can regain his breath.

Masterlist

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[guzhufuren]

Favourite VegasPete Fics pt.3  (in alphabetical order) full rec list

1. baby got bounce by @lu-sn https://archiveofourown.org/series/3540850

As a present for Vegas, Pete learns how to twerk. & Pete's adventures as an amateur pole dancer.

2. clouded with dirt by @sapphicblight https://archiveofourown.org/works/46274284

Prompt: "No, I'm not dating your brother." As they wait for Vegas to wake from his coma, Macau tries to figure out what Pete means to Vegas. Pete would like to know, as well.

3. discothéque rouge by @lu-sn https://archiveofourown.org/works/44019583

Vegas is here at this night club on a job, and he really, really doesn't want to be. Then everything goes sideways — in a good way.

4. Five-Star Southpaw https://archiveofourown.org/works/46009846

When Vegas is handed the keys to a failing major family hotel and told to bring it back to life, he knows it’s not a gift, or a test, or even an opportunity to prove himself. It’s a taunt. It’s a way to set him up for failure so everyone can rub his nose in the shitshow he’s left with, defeated and inferior to his cousins like always. It’s the death sentence of his pride in a gilded cage. But misery loves company and all that, and he finds a surprisingly fitting cellmate in an unassuming looking employee named Pete. Now if only he could get Pete to stop playing hard to get, this cage could become a lot more comfortable.

5. he wanted it comfortable i wanted that pain by @hawkshadowwrites https://archiveofourown.org/works/45435295

Vegas pulls the cloth off his head and Pete’s suspicions are confirmed when the look on Vegas’s face is pure alarm and confusion, not pride and satisfaction. “What—” Vegas says as the same time Pete all but moans. “Fuck me,” Pete whines, high and desperately needy. His hips buck up against Vegas’s thigh and he whines again. “Khun Vegas.” — Or; an ep 4 auction au where Pete drinks the drugged water meant for Porsche and gets grabbed by Vegas instead.

6. it’s so sweet (knowing you love me) https://archiveofourown.org/works/46458253

“You’re smaller than me,” Pete suddenly announces- simpering like a fox in the henhouse right in Vegas’ face. aka the 5 times Pete makes Vegas feel tiny + the 1 time he feels tinier

7. Mansions and Mafiosi by @blackwatervial https://archiveofourown.org/works/46604890

Vegas overhears that someone called Pete is looking for a Dungeon Master. Vegas is convinced that he’s the man for the job – he both has a dungeon and is a master. But when he turns up at Pete’s place expecting hot stuff (sex), he instead gets hot stuff (8d6 fire damage). OR The Vegaspete DnD AU no one knew they needed

8. no rest for the wicked by @itsbinghebitch https://archiveofourown.org/works/45520291

Pete has long left Thailand. He is now living the American dream, working long hours to make his rich clients richer and himself more miserable than ever. But when his best friend Porsche invites him to his destination wedding to the mysterious Kinn, Pete finds himself suddenly thrown into the world of the Theerapanyakul family, the silent machinations underpinning their wealth, and Kinn’s cousin Vegas—who, for reasons unknown, has made it his mission to tear down every assumption Pete holds about his life. — resort romance AU where Kinn & co are still mafia (except Pete doesn't know)

9. sub(stitute) by @blackwatervial https://archiveofourown.org/works/46102267

Pete needs a fake-boyfriend for a casino party. Vegas needs to secure a deal with a casino owner. Everyone knows where this is going.

#kinnporsche #vegaspete #vegaspete fic recs #kinnporsche fic recs #fics #fic recs #recs #kpedit #mine #mygifs #userboots #taggingmarion #userspicy #kinnporschesource #dailyvegaspete #thank you to all the beautiful writers <33 you darlings mean everything to me

[vampi-fixx]

love bites + love handles

BLEACH; various characters x chubby!reader headcanons

ft. gin ichimaru, Izuru kira, shuhei hisagi, adult!toshiro hitsugaya

tw: 18+ not sfw. all charas are aged up. afab reader. mentions of internalized fatphobia, insecurity, in terms of gin specifically, unhealthy relationship dynamics? (sorry y/n ur man is toxic.) in izuru’s section- mommy kink,, uh lactation, death/dying kink?? idk what i have done lol.

gin ichimaru—;

He likes pet names that point out your chub and veer dangerously close to derogatory i.e. my lil’ swine, my plump dumplin.’ He means these affectionately—or at least as affectionate as he can get—but that doesn’t translate well with his permanent smile, his mocking tone. Even if they weren’t related to your size, surely his delivery would make you wonder if it was something more sinister than teasing. If you ever tell him so, he’s quick to rectify.  

“Aw, don’t get yer panties in a knot~” he says, curling his arms around you, squeezing your middle. Another thing he loves doing. Drawing attention to your gut, even if it does make you flustered. “I’m only teasin’ ya.”

Canonically, he loves Rangiku, and while his eyes are almost always closed, he’s certainly not blind to her assets. He likes someone who can fill his arms generously, who he can sink his fangs into better—it gives him the impression that he owns you more fully.

If you’re ever down about your appearance—whether it be as a result of society’s unrealistic beauty standards, a piece of clothing that just won’t sit right on your figure, whatever—he’s awful at comfort. His nature is to antagonize rather than to soothe. But if you were having an especially bad day, and were ever to ask him if he likes your body, he’ll offer you a rare, genuine frown. “‘Course I like it. Why’d ya’ think I don’t?” If you were to persist, or even go down a spiral of why he shouldn’t, he’ll stop you, his icy gaze cutting through your words. “Not another peep outta ya.’” Before he distracts you. In Gin’s view, you can’t be lingering on certain topics once he’s teasing you again, right? But his teasing will have a little less bite this time, and lead its way to compliments that come across as more genuine than not.

Something Gin might do that confuses you is procuring skimpy clothes or lingerie for you, and leaving them out for you to wear. They’re often a size or two too small for you, and when you try them on, it’s nothing short of scandalous the way it squeezes into your flesh. It makes you wonder if he’s doing it intentionally, and don’t worry—he is. He’s a dick.  His reasoning though, is that he’s quite enamored by the way straps look digging into your shoulders, or garters digging into your thighs, the way you spill out generously from a too-tight corset. He’s all simpering about it too, for instance, watching you parade around Hueco Mundo or Seireitei with a low-cut outfit that leaves your curves to no one’s imagination. In his defense, he can play the role of the “concerned,” “protective" lover in public if you get flustered, dragging you back home by the waist as he tells you, “Ya’ silly thing, why’d ya’ even go out wearing tha’ kinda stuff? Ya’ know what a sight ya’ are?” Hmm, I wonder why. At some point, you can’t trust his choices, and you have to hide your clothes from his alterations. 

During sex, he likes having you on top so he can see your softer parts jiggle. He also enjoys seeing his fingerprints left on your skin, and is quite enamored with the marks tight clothing leaves on you. He may or may not pinch your fat rolls. He’s awful. You should break up with him, Y/N. If only the crazy dick wasn’t also good.

izuru kira— ;

Izuru thinks the world is a harsh and unforgiving place. The exact opposite of you and your body, and thus you become a sanctuary of sorts for him. He’s reverent—your entire body is as soft as a pillow, and he’s in desperate need of coddling from the world. What’s not to love?

Izuru especially likes running his hand along the dips and curves of your body when you’re bared before him, likening it to nature, the divine, his muse. And with him sweetly murmuring how you must have been spun from the gods’ silken hands themselves, how can you feel anything but beautiful?

Insecurities are undoubtedly a part of anyone with a body’s experience though, and if you’re ever particularly down about your appearance, Izuru is aghast. He assumes he’s at fault for making his muse think they’re unappreciated. He’ll show you some of his more, ahem, embarrassing haikus about you. If you want, he’ll even give you a mini performance, replete with his flushed cheeks, his gaze nervously darting to yours to gauge your reaction. Writing poems about you in secret is one thing, but having to perform them in front of you? If he didn’t love you so much, he thinks he could die of the embarrassment.

He accepts that there are things you’ll always dislike about yourself. If he were to list his own shortcomings, it would run miles. Izuru always lives in some kind of self-hating despair, but you—you’re his light. He hopes that by showing you how much he adores your body, you'll also come around to it.

If you’re ever pregnant and/or lactating, Izuru would love to suck on your breasts. Mommy kink confirmed. Even if the topic of trying for a baby baby has just been breached, you’ll sometimes catch him staring longingly at your breasts, before catching your eye and coughing, acting like he’s not. He’s mortified to admit just how... arousing he finds the thought of potential changes to your body.

Speaking of kinks, dying and other morbid things is something Izuru muses about often, but when it comes to you, something about these thoughts turns almost naughty. He’s embarrassed to admit it, but he thinks about being suffocated by your chest, or to suffocate with his face buried in your folds, your thighs caging his head. Sometimes these thoughts get him hard—dying is inevitable, and is a constant presence in a Shinigami’s life, but the thought of dying while wrapped up in your loved one? It’s somehow hot. Izuru is a bit too shy to mention these thoughts to you...

shuhei hisagi— ;

If you’re chubby, Shuhei finds the experience of going down on you even hotter. He’ll get nosebleeds at the thought of your thighs squeezing his head, his nose pressed into your slick folds until he can barely breathe, his hands coming up to grip your thighs as he groans at the give of them. Certified sub status.

Speaking of thighs, he loves to fuck them. Something about the thought is just hot—him squeezing your thighs together, his voice husky as he tells you to keep them clenched tight for him... good, just like that. Especially so if the head of his dick peeks through between them. He can literally cum from just that, his breath hitching at the sight of his seed streaked across them. It just makes him want to lick them even more.

Shuhei also kinda—don’t let him know you’re onto him—but when he’s really stressed from Seireitei Weekly deadlines, from his lieutenant duties, from seeming to run everything on his own? If you two are sitting on the couch together, he’ll just bury his face in your chest. It becomes a habit, and once he’s gotten over his hesitation, he’ll ask you for the boob pillow. Sometimes, when he’s so tense from everything, he’ll complain this way only, into your chest where it’s muffled and he doesn’t feel quite as much of a whiner and all he can think about is how soft you feel around him. You rubbing your hand through his head and listening to him complain is a nice touch.

He really likes hitting it from the back, where he can watch your plush ass bounce when his hips meet it. Also you on top, so he can see ever part of you.

His favorite part about you is how soft you are. Your tits pressing against his chest when he hugs you, the way he can dig into the softest parts of your thighs. 

He would love it if you ever asked him to pick your outfits for the day, or week. He may not look it, but sometimes he sees a cool jacket or top that he thinks would love great on you, but he doesn’t wanna come across as  weird and tell you how to dress. But he’d jump at the opportunity. Surprisingly his eye for fashion is pretty good, and he loves to get you punk outfits that compliment his.

toshiro hitsugaya— ;

He is traumatized from Rangiku’s boob smush. That being said, he does his best to ignore said assets from anyone, even if they are noticeable.

To be honest, it doesn’t really register to Toshiro that you being fat is something you should worry or be insecure about. If you mention it, he’ll blink and be like, “Yes. Your point being?” Truly, he thinks that appearances shouldn’t matter. He’s quite defensive about it, considering how people used to judge for looking too young for a captain.

If you ever mention being insecure, he’s conflicted. He wants to tell you that you’re perfect to him and you have nothing to worry about. But at the same time, he can’t quite bring himself to admit that. Toshiro’s tendency for bluntness and raw honesty is quite clumsy when it comes to declarations of affection. So he settles for showing you instead--with a fierce kiss, his arm tugging you forward

“Don’t be stupid,” he says sternly. “You’re per--fine just the way you are.”

He does try to show you how much you mean to him. Perhaps by upping the physical affection, which is a huge deal for Mr. Frigid and Icy. He’ll initiate hugs from behind, even in public.

If you continue to be insecure, he suggests--and he means this with no ill intention--some guides and strategies for self-love and shit. He finds it cheesy but he really wants to help you, while also not wanting to coddle you? He’s definitely had to look up research guides to relationships before, so he figures that’s a place to start.

As an adult, he’s pretty lean, so he also appreciates the size difference. Toshiro doesn’t treat you differently, hauling you onto his lap in those rare moments when he’s tired from paperwork and wants a pick-me-up, and has stopped giving a damn about decorum. But just picture grumpy Toshiro, nuzzling into your chest, asking for “Five more minutes,” because the feel of being wrapped around is much better than his hand cramping from all the papers he’s had to sign off of.

Ah. I’m loving the idea of Toshiro with a fuller boo and doing cute domestic shit. You feeding him curry you made while he hugs you from behind and complains that it’s too spicy (it’s not; he just has a piss-poor tolerance for spice). Napping with Toshiro on the couch on his day off and he cracks an eye open, a small smile curling his lips at the sight of you as he wraps an arm around you. Toshiro glowering at you when he’s in the rare mood for affection and you keep darting out of his grasp, until he pins you against the counter and steals a kiss from you while grumbling, “Finally.”

Rangiku thinks you’re the cutest couple, and definitely does her best to catch you two in the act of doing, what she deems, “cute couple activities.” More than once she’s walked in on you sitting in Toshiro’s lap, not even doing anything spicy, but just playing with his hair. It’s cute. She has totally taken blackmail pics. In her defense, her taicho never looks that soft with just anyone.

Body worship is big in the bedroom. Toshiro’s cold lips trailing your skin, his gaze heated. He may not be the best with words of affirmation, but he’s content to show you like this how much you mean to him.

#bleach x reader #hisagi x reader #toshiro x reader #izuru x reader #gin x reader #bleach headcanons #bleach smut #not sfw #bleach thots #tati writes #repost from my old blog

[proceduralpassion]

Torments

(gif by me, excuse the terrible quality lol)

A/N: I wrote this the night of 10x11 and it's been sitting, collecting unedited cob webs ever since. I finally spruced it up and made it presentable, so here ya go! Kev deserves someone to hold him and tell it's all gonna be okay 🥺

Pairing: Kevin Atwater x Wife!Reader

WC: ~1k

Warning(s): angsty af, discussions of dysfunctional familial relationships

The house was quiet when he walked in. There was light coming from upstairs but he leaned his back against the front door and stood in the darkness. The mute shadows that surrounded him mirrored the hollow feeling in his chest. There were unfinished emotions resting in his spirit and he sighed a heavy breath, wondering if he should unleash them from his depths or stuff them back down, much like he did with a lot of his torments.

It was already late when he left the precinct, so late that he knew that he missed dinner, but his mind was already set on stopping by his building to make sure there was an adequate unit for his father. He’d call and hire someone in the morning to clean it up and put some furniture in it, but he couldn’t bear to go to sleep tonight without verifying that his father would have somewhere safe to go, once he got out of the halfway house. 

He’s not sure how long he stood there, with his head against the door, but it lifts upright when he hears footsteps descending the stairs.

“Kev?” Your voice eked out carefully.

“Yeah, it’s me, baby.”

He met you at the last step and you both wrapped your arms around each other tightly. You feel that his weight is heavier tonight and know that today wasn’t a good day. Instead of acknowledging it, you guide him into the kitchen, “I left your food in the microwave, let me heat it up.”

He follows you silently, his head still leaned on your shoulder as he walks behind you with his hands on your hips. You lean into his embrace as the timer counts down until the egg rolls and fried rice are ready. Still, no words are spoken. You say nothing as his arms wrap tighter around you. 

This is how it went with the two of you. He was a proud man and it wasn’t always easy for him to spill his emotions out to you. You were dogged in your pursuit for the truth, in your mission to heal his afflictions the way he always did for you, without question. There was a silent compromise in the way that neither of you spoke. Time was a pact, the equalizer that told him that you wouldn’t push and that he wouldn’t suppress.

You two sat at the breakfast table in the kitchen, ankles linking against each other under the table. 

Always touching, the two of you.

He offered his plate to share, but you only took one bite out of an egg roll before shifting the dish back in front of him. Your ring shines against the glint of the light above and your eyes can’t help but jump to his. Like you did all the thousands of other times you saw that golden piece of metal surrounding his finger, you smile and your heart flutters. He catches the simper and his shoulders shake in a hushed chuckle.

“I’m sorry, that ring will always be the sexiest thing you will ever wear,” you always say.

“Even sexier than the chain?” 

“Damn. Can’t forget about the chain.”

You two don’t actually say the words aloud like you usually do, but the back and forth is wordlessly exchanged through your eyes. A language that only two people in the universe will ever be fluent in. 

When he finishes his plate, you go to grab it, but he swipes it away before you can and rises to head to the dishwasher. He loads the plate and fork and then detours to the fridge to grab something out of it.

He hands you your half-eaten dark chocolate bar and sits. You offer it, he leans over to only one bite out of it before pushing it back into your hand. And so, now you’re the one who eats quietly because you know that your husband is ready to talk, but still needs a moment to gather his thoughts.

You finish your chocolate, enjoying the crunch of almond in the last morsel and Kevin reaches for your hand.

“I got him a place to stay in the building.”

You nodded, not saying anything, allowing him the space to release whatever he's holding. 

“I don’t know… I’m just still so… angry. I’m happy he’s out. He’s safe. But he had all this time to reach out. To make amends. And the best he can come up with for an excuse is his pride?”

His voice still creaked with emotion, much like before, when he let his dad have it at the precinct. He thinks about Jordan and Vinessa and even at his most frustrated, he couldn’t bear to think of not showing up for them whenever they needed. It may not have been fair to him, raising two kids when he was barely an adult himself, but he still couldn’t even fathom letting them down in any way. So how could the man that sired three children allow anything to hold him back from rushing back to them, from picking up the pieces of a long broken family? 

Your second hand reaches around to wrap around his and you lean closer to him, allowing your foreheads to rest on each other’s.

“I feel like I can’t even be too mad at him. Because I don’t know what he went through. What he had to get through to survive all those years on the inside… Maybe he wouldn’t have made it if he was too weighed down by thoughts of us.”

You speak for the first time.

“You just hate that it was you and the kids that were weighing him down.”

With glassiness in his eyes, he nods. 

You rise from your seat and rest in his lap, nestling his head against your chest, caressing the back of his neck. He heaves a deep breath and bundles closer into you. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. 

You hold him tight as his shoulders shake, allowing him to find solace in your embrace. A safe haven so he can mourn for the time lost. And forgive for what wasn’t his fault.

As always, like and reblog if you enjoyed. Thanks for the love 💖

Tagging: @darqchilddaydreamz @ginghampearlsnsweettea @jackburtonsays @justahopelessssromantic

#chicago pd #kevin atwater #kevin atwater x reader #kevin atwater x black reader #<- it's really for anyone but i always write with black!reader in my mind #kevin atwater x wife! reader