#Adams family swipe

[smithwulf]

[confinesofmy]

i hate hanging out with kids because of the way people treat kids and the social rules surrounding speaking out when you don't like how a kid is being treated. like, if you're hanging out with a group of adults and one of the adults is cruel to another, there are many ways to say, "hey, don't treat them like that." or you can even ignore that person and tell the person who was wronged, "i can't believe they were so cruel to you." but with kids you're really not supposed to say anything at all unless it's your kid. and it's crazy because the stakes are so much higher. an adult being treated cruelly has so much more agency. they can leave, they can speak up and probably be listened to, they can be cruel back and not immediately be vilified. a kid usually just has to endure it. and judging by personal experience they don't even internalise it as "that person is cruel" it's more like "this is normal treatment."

[hoshigray]

i fucking love ur writing sm mamas!

anyway. Toji making reader pregnant cause toji found out that reader loves kids <33333

It’s fine if you don’t want to. Anyway love you and your writing darling . 🎐

No, noonie, stop bc like, are you in my brain or smthn!!?? I was thinking about this exact prompt for a long while, and I see this appear in my inbox??! Well, well, *cracks knuckles* you've just given me the perfect opportunity mwahahahaha!!! This has been in my drafts for a minute, but I'm glad it's finally done! And omg tysm for loving me and my stuff, honey!! Hope I make ya proud with this one :') ilysm ♡

Also, I'm mixing in another request into this one since it's a pretty small request (reader sucking on Toji's Adam's apple as he pounds you), plus it makes things easier for me in terms of writing out stuff. Hope that's okay with the other requester; if not, my apologies!ヾ(｡﹏｡)ﾉﾞAnd btw, tysm for 1.6k followers, y'all!! Love every single one of you~☆

Cw: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - mating press - Daddy kink - fingering (f! receiving) - breeding - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up!!) - reader skips the pill - fluff at the end bc why not - pregnancy (test at the end) - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', good girl, mama, sweetie) - oral fixation/reader sucking on Toji's adam's apple - the reader has stretch marks on their body bc I said so - praise - overstimulation - clitoral play (sucking & swiping). Wc: 3.4k

Toji, by all means, was not a man deserving of children.

His terrible childhood and upbringing have molded him into an emotionless and reserved person who only feels as though the only person he needs to look out for and care for is himself.

So when the premise of children came to him, he wouldn't give it the time of day. That is until he ends up having youths of his own. Even then, he would do the bare minimum of taking care of them — food, clothes, shelter, and taking or picking them up from school. And to top it off, his job wasn't befitting of a father — a hitman going mission to mission for money that he used to spend for himself, now going to the needs of his kids.

Toji knew Tsumiki and Megumi were better off without a father like him. Fatherhood (or children in general, for that matter) is no easy task, and it's clearly one he's not good at.

But all that changed when you came into the picture.

Never had he seen his kids warm up to someone, an outsider, so quick. Even when he mentioned his children to you at the beginning of your relationship, you didn't falter and happily wished to meet them. And the day you finally did was the day everything became a lot brighter for the entire Fushiguro family.

Not only did Tsumiki and Megumi come to trust you with every visit, but their adoration for you grew tenfold the more you were involved in their lives. And all Toji could do was watch you do your magic, whether it be watching animal documentaries with Megumi, making flower crowns with Tsumiki, or playing with them and the other kids at the nearby park.

And the most impressive part about it all was you teaching and including him in how he could get more involved with his youngsters. Now, his kids are closer to him than ever, going so far as Megumi clapping back on his father's snarky comments and Tsumiki having the man play tea parties (to his dismay, but whatever to makes his little girl happy).

It wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't had you around. You were just such a breath of fresh air to him and any child that came your way. Attentive and caring to the young ones as if you were a natural at mimicking the maternal role. He knew you'd be a great mother to any child, especially your own.

It was that thought alone that made Toji think about you having children. Or better yet, having a child with him. Making you pregnant with his baby. Making you his.

Toji walks down the stairs after putting his son and daughter to bed, his heavy footsteps beating the wooden floor beneath him with every step. He then enters the kitchen area, where he sees you washing the dishes from today's dinner after putting the food in the fridge.

When you notice his presence, you look up and offer a charming smile in his direction, your face illuminated beautifully by the ceiling kitchen lights that the image almost blinds him.

"Hey there." Your voice is always sweet to his ears, still smiling even when you turn back to washing dishes. "The kids?"

"Just finished puttin' 'em to bed," your eyes stay at the sink, but you can feel his heavy footsteps come from beside you. "But they said I suck at tellin' bedtime stories."

Your giggle is heard through the noise of dishes clacking on the rack. "Well, maybe you're not using cartoon voices like I told you to. They like it."

"Yeah, no, I'm not doin' that shit." You chuckle some more at his complaint, and he grabs a dry cloth to dry up dishes from the rack.

It's quiet between you, but Toji will sneak glances at you while you work through the dirty plates. His thoughts from before return, and all he can think about is you with a swollen belly.

The mere idea of having you bear his child fogs his brain. Witnessing your body change and expand with the growth of your little one within you, it's too much for his mind to indulge in.

The more he thinks about it, the crazier and hornier his mind goes. Unable to function suitably, Toji sighs heavily through his nose and places the dish and dry cloth on the countertop.

You notice him make his way behind you, his hands traveling down to your hips as his chin rests atop your head. But you pay him no mind and continue with your task. "Hey, darlin'."

The nickname has you hum to him, eyes focused on the soapy sponge and plate in your hands while your ears wait for him to continue. "Yes, Toji?"

He doesn't reply instantly, roaming his large palms up and down your waist and hips instead. "Ya know I love the hell outta you, right?" He goes on when you nod. "Always takin' care of me and lovin' me. But that love also goes to my lil squirts." A smile creeps in on his scarred lips as you giggle at his way of referring to his children. "It's just crazy to me how you're able to have 'em follow y'r every step, yet I can't even get a hug or smile before they leave for school unless I remind them."

"Well, maybe if their father didn't always bully and call them 'squirts' and 'brats' all day, they would show you some love."

"Shut up," Toji flicks water from the faucet onto your face, forcing you to laugh more from your teasing. His heart swoons from your laughter, having you sway side to side with his body behind you. "But I mean it; you're so good with kids. Makes me wonder how come you never had y'r own yet."

"I just love kids." It was a simple answer. "Plus, I never really had time to care for a child. Got work and stuff, you know. And besides, I practically treat Tsumiki and Megumi like my kids."

"Mmm," he replies aimlessly.

"However," you resume while placing a wet bowl on the rack. "I wouldn't mind having a little one of my own. Now that I'm pretty comfortable with where I'm at in life, I'd love to have a little baby to share it with."

Toji lets your words sink in before saying anything. Now that he sees where you stand on the topic, finally, he can voice his opinion.

"Y/n..." he treads carefully with the words he's about to say. "I've been thinkin' about somethin'."

"Thinking about what?" You can't deny the uneasy atmosphere with Toji's mysteriousness, yet you listen as you turn off the sink faucet.

The two of you stop swaying your bodies with each other. "How 'bout we have a baby?"

Your body goes rigid at the question, and breathing subsides as your mind goes rampant with reflections too fast to comprehend. He wants a child—another child!? With me??!

"Like, right now?" The only question that escaped your lips, your voice hushed to a whisper. No one else is here in the space but you two, although the talk you're having right now feels virtually forbidden to the tongue.

"Doesn't have to be right now," Toji moves his head to your shoulder, his hushed, gruff voice clear to your ears. "But as long as it's with you, one more kid won't hurt, right?"

And your breath hitches when a hand finds its way to the surface of your stomach, his fingers lightly teasing with the flesh of your abdomen. He places his lips on your neck, and you bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. "Mmmm, why do you want more?" You still press him with questions despite almost dissolving into his kisses. "You already have a gorgeous girl—"

"I wan' have your girl." He murmurs softly to your ear before lightly biting the lobe, and a moan slips past you.

"A-And...a beautiful boy..."

"I want your boy."

"Toji, please," you surprise the older man by turning your body to face him fully, eyes surveying his. "This is no joke! Just because I don't have my own kid doesn't mean—"

You're silenced when Toji brings a hand to your cheek, cupping a side of your face. "I'm not jokin', sweetie. I know I'm not the best dad in the world — hell, I'm pretty lousy at it. But you," he leans forward while you instinctively go backward, hitting the sink behind you. "You're basically a mother to mine and a real damn good one, too. And since ya said things are good now, why don't I make you a parent fr' real."

"Toji—"

"Like I said: it doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. But as long as it's you," his thumb brushes your cheek as he looks deep into your eyes. "Let me give ya a baby, angel."

All you can do is look into his emerald orbs that examine you for a response. The silence between you two is accompanied by the ticking sounds of the clock on the kitchen wall. And after a few seconds, you sigh and place a hand on the big one caressing your cheek.

"If I say yes," your reply has his brows lifted. "Will you give me foot massages and a bowl of ramen at three in the morning and not be a bitch about it when I ask?"

Toji gives you a smile, his scarred lip tugged upwards. And you return one to him as he kisses your forehead.

"Works fr' me."

This is how the two of you end up in the bedroom; the ceiling lights toned down to a low shade, clothes discarded on the cold wooden floor, and the sound of lips smacking fills the silence.

"Mmmm, Daddy..." You whimper through the kisses, your hands find purchase on his strong shoulders, and you yelp when he bites your lip. His lips gradually embark downwards to your neck clavicle. Kisses and light suck to your nipples make you hum in pleasure, and a gasp prompts out when his teeth graze the bud of your soft mounds.

A hand sneaks between your legs and nestles in between the lips of your southern entrance, his big fingers enter inside with the use of the soapy fluid of your cunt, and you wail from the contact while he sucks on your breast.

"Such a good girl, angel." He lets go of your nipple to coax you, his mouth sucking your skin as his mouth continues its journey south. More licks on your body feel hot, kisses placed on every stretch mark he comes across. And he stops when he passes your tummy, coming up to see the view of his digits pushing to and fro inside your leaking chasm. "My fingers feelin' good, mama?"

"Yesssss," you hiss, eyes sewn shut to concentrate on the pleasurable sensation in your slit. He chuckles at your delighted expression before he leans down to suck on your clit, earning a shriek from your puffy lips. "Stoooop, I-I'm too sensitive—Ahhaaaannn!!"

He releases your tender bud from his mouth after placing a chaste kiss on it. "Sorry, baby, gotta have you nice and wet fr' me." He sucks and laps around on your wetness for a few more minutes before withdrawing his mouth from your leaky chasm, substituting his tongue with his big fingers to swipe on your clitoris. Broken sobs seep out from you. "Cummin' on my fingers and tongue, that's my girl."

The throbbing commotion between your legs has your ears ringing and your head pulsing. You've already come three times for thirty minutes. He's such a greedy man, but whatever it takes for you to prep for him.

Speaking of which, Toji props your legs onto his shoulders while aligning his cock to your folds, lathering the girth with your juices. Your heart beats irregularly with anticipation on the rise, a position you're all too familiar with. Toji sees you gawking at his glans kissing your folds, and he sneers salaciously. "Ready, sweetie?"

You give him a smile even through entering your lustful haze. "Skipped the pill and everything, Daddy." And with a kiss on your cheek, Toji wastes no time and pushes his length into you with every inhale you take. And the both of you moan when the cockhead slides right into your vulva. Every inch of his dick descends into you, making you full of his size, and whimpers fail to be suppressed as he scrapes your velvety walls deliciously.

After letting you adapt to him, his hips start with a slow rhythm for you to properly situate yourself with the mating press. However, with how you're gripping around him, it doesn't take long for him to quicken his pace. Soft wails soon become stifled squeals with the bite of your lips from the growing cadence, and your eyes begin to water when the underside of his shaft grazes your inner walls.

But when the tip of his cock finally touches your cervix, a choked scream sneaks past your restraint. And Toji chortles. "Mmmmm, that's what I wanna hear." He grinds his pelvis deep into your cunt, resulting in forced squeaks from your tongue.

"Ahhhnnn! Daddy, please—Oh, Jesus," It hurts to think when Toji accurately jabs your delicate cervix, tears streaming down your pretty cheeks. "Oh, God, it's too much, too mu—Oooohh!!"

"I know, darlin', I know." He comes down to your face, yet his pace does not falter. His speed increases and becomes harsher by the second, and your head pounds hard with every rut. You nibble on his neck, sucking on his Adam's apple as he drills his dick into you. "Nnnngh, so tight on me, mama. Gonna make me go crazy."

As if he wasn't going crazier already with the erratic rut of his hips. Driving his cock deep inside and the sound of his balls smacking your folds is all you can hear. Your face is now entirely hot, matching the tingling sensation of skin slapped together between your legs. You dare to peek down to see the union of your sexes, Toji's member now harboring a white ring near the base. Strings of your slick and his spit keep you two connected during this moment, and more incoherent shrieks are pulled from your throat.

"Nnnaaaaa, ahhhaaaa!!! D-Daddy, please!!" While there's uncertainty about whether your pleas will be heard, you still express yourself to him. "It's coming, it's coming! I'm gonna cum, gonna cummmm!! Nnnmmph!!" And when he comes down to you with his complete weight caging you in, the pressure of his body has you submit to him completely.

"Yeah, wanna cum on Daddy's dick." He says with his condescending, guttural tone that almost makes you melt onto the satin sheets beneath you. "G' ahead, mama—Hmmph! Make a nice mess while I finish here..." His strokes become ever intenser than before; his length brushes your inner walls, and continuous pokes to your cervix prompt your orgasm to climb faster. And you soon fall into a wave of pure ecstasy, your cunt clamping around him desperately while your body trembles.

And Toji is forced to fall into a release of his own when the walls of your slit contract around him, spilling into you with the flex of his abdomen. His sweaty body is on top of yours, and your breathing matches his as you two experience each crescendo.

Heavy exhales sync as you two calm down within your intimate embrace. Your mind slowly returns from its foggy state with the calm atmosphere soothing your body, and your quivers now subsided while the older man lays kisses and sucks on your neck. But it comes to a halt when a sudden yelp comes from your swollen lips because he thrusts into you again, even with your vulva being extremely sensitive.

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, and it's not to your surprise that he has a smirk on that dumb, handsome face of his. His lips curled to where his teeth peek from under his scar. "Ya know I gotta fuck you more than once, right, sweetie? Make sure you're all filled up 'n all."

You suck your teeth with furrowed brows, but a smile comes up with breathless giggles. "I'm telling you, Mr. Fushiguro, you're most definitely treating me to daily foot massages when I get pregnant."

"Whatever you say," he shuts your threats with a kiss on your soft lips. "My pretty darlin'..."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Toji twiddles with something in his hand while you lay on his chest in the shared bedroom. The kids were taking a nap after coming from school, leaving the two of you to enjoy the leisure of each other's company.

But today was a different day compared to any other. Because even if you two are looking at the television with the old rom-com displayed, neither of you is actually watching. Too busy distracted with the smiles plastered on your faces to care for what's on the screen. The only thing corrupting your minds is a matter that has you two in glee after a week of anticipation and mutual work.

The man peers at his hand to look at the object between Toji's fingers. Nothing but a pink and white stick — a pregnancy test. And at the center of the device conveyed two red lines, the signature implication that you were indeed with a child. His child.

"Hey, Toji," the call of his name has him look down at you, still facing the television despite your attention not wholly on it. "What do you think they are?"

"Hmm?" It takes a few seconds for it to click until he notices your hand brushing around your belly. He chuckles. "I'm hopin' for a girl. Wan' 'em to look and act like you."

You hum aimlessly at his answer before you berate him with more of your thoughts. "What if it's a boy? I think it'd be cute to have another mini-you running around the house."

"Nah, one mini-me is enough, and he already talks back to me like he's a teen." You giggle at the light sour face he shows and his complaints about Megumi. "Besides, I don't want another me. I'm already a lousy dad, and I didn't have the best childhood. I wouldn't want you to deal with a child that's exactly like me..."

Silence ensues with the answer; it's the only response you deem appropriate. That was the case until you say what was next on your mind.

"Toji, I'm sure your upbringing wasn't the best because people weren't there for you when you needed them. And although that's shaped you into the man I love, even I wouldn't want you to go through all that for a second time." You can feel the weight of his green eyes on you while you speak, though you don't turn to face him. "Nevertheless, times are different. You have me to love and care for you now—you and your beautiful children. You might not be the best dad in the world, but you've done a great job taking care of them."

"Thanks to you." He interrupts you, and you laugh.

"Yes, thanks to me. And because you have me, this little one won't be going through what you went through. I promise you, you're not alone in this. Because I'm pretty scared as this is my first pregnancy. But that's okay since I have you to take care of me. I'll be there to help you, and you'll be there to help me. As long as that's true, we'll do just fine."

Taken aback by your response, the older man turns to the pregnancy test still in his hand. The more he looks at the device, the more he ponders what you said. And a small smile creeps up on him, coming to a decision himself. At this point, it doesn't matter what the sex of the child will be to him. What warms his heart is that you promise to be by his side, helping him watch your little one — his child — his family grow as the days and years pass.

"Now," your voice brings him back to the present, whipping his head back to you. "I can't say the same if we end up with twins. Because you'll just have to deal with one while I have the other."

Toji puts the pregnancy test on the nightstand and goes for your nose to pinch it. "Fuckin' kid, who told you were funny, huh?" Your laughter only fuels him to mess with you more, but that's okay. He's smiling at your silliness, and that's all you want right now.

Because, even if they're not here yet, no child should have a father who doesn't know how to smile.

[baby-yongbok]

Sex Concept

Yang Jeongin x afab!Reader

✦Genre: smut [MDNI] - sub!Jeongin x dom!Reader ✦ WC: 1.8k ✦ Summary: You got your hands on the cute church boy. ✦ CW: Blasphemy, corruption kink, oral sex (f & m rec.), knife play [blood], edging, reader is wearing a scream mask, name used: baby, my dear, sweetie ✦A/N: I'm nervous asf to post this. I suppose that this will be my small contribution to kinktober. This is pure blasphemy, you have been warned. I love scream mask fics but I haven't come across one where reader wears the mask so I did this :)) I listened to Sex Concept by Sofia Isella while writing this. Enjoy!+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ Happy Halloween♡ ✦Masterlist✦

“Stop teasing, baby, c’mon” Jeongin sat in the front row of the messy pews. The muted sound of rain outside dripping through the cracked ceiling of the church only accentuated the tension pulsing in his veins.  

“Teasin’? Me?” You smile, one hand pressed firm against the soaked fabric of his shirt. “You want it that badly?” His eyes find yours but they lack control. His pupils shake with submission while his mouth waters with the remnant taste of your tongue.

“You know I do.” He smiles in a futile attempt to prompt you to take action. You climb into his lap, your fishnets stretching over the thick of your thighs. There’s a sinister grin tugging at the corner of your lips that the mask shields from Jeongin’s view. It was his idea for you to wear it. It was his idea for you to play the villain that his family paints you as while you drain his sanity from him. 

“Beg.” You tilt your head, leaning in so close that he can nearly kiss the mask.

“You really want me to beg?” He teases, trying to bite back at you with a smile that you swiftly swipe away when your fingers lock in his damp black strands. “Please.” He moans, falling into your desire. 

“Ah, Innie, you can do better than that.” You shift in his lap, your fingers tighten around the hilt of the knife in your hand. A dainty little thing, sharper than your tongue.

“Baby, please, do it. I wan’ you to.” You pull his head back further, exposing his neck to you. His adam’s apple bobs, spit pools in his mouth and he swallows it quickly, smoothly. “Use it.”

“Here? In front of all of them?” You point the knife behind you and Jeongin’s eyes follow, landing on the dimly lit statues of figures who would surely judge him for this. The saints watch him, judge him. “You wanna sin, sweetie?” You whisper and he whimpers, a fair exchange.

You run the tip of the knife up his arm oh so softly, he’d miss it if he didn’t want it so badly. His stomach does cartwheels while his fingers claw at the distressed wood beneath him in a desperate attempt to get a grip on something. Anything but himself, he’s a goner.

You bring the point to his shoulder and press in just a bit, just enough to nick that pretty skin you littered with deep purple a few hours ago. “Shit.” He hisses, groaning at the pinch of pain.

“You like this shit, don’t you?” He fights with himself, his fucked up dreams conflicting with his squeaky clean image. He’s a good boy, a man of God and moral actions and blah blah blah. “Tell me.”

“I like it.” He groans, his heavy lids fluttering shut with a trust he should not let you have. 

“Thought you were a good boy?” You laugh, the sound muffles behind the mask just a bit but echoes in the empty church. You grind into him ever so slightly, milking an unbecoming sound from his swollen lips. They’re stained red like yours, covered in the color of sin and it matches his skin better than that holy glow ever could. 

“I’m not.” He whimpers, trying to convince himself more than you. You let his hair go, allowing him lift his head but he keeps it tilted back, looking up at you like the angel you aren’t. “Please, one more time. Harder, deeper, something.”

“God, you’re pretty when you beg.” You scratch him with the knife, creating a crimson line from the curve of his shoulder down to his bicep. He shivers and groans, the tips of his fingers find your waist and dig in. 

“Ah, fuck, b-baby.” He’s putty, melting and stretching before your eyes. The blood starts running down his skin and you watch it. You admire it. So pretty, so pure and all fucking yours. You bring the knife up and catch the droplets and smear it over the silver, watching how it thins and collects. 

“This.” You point the knife to him. “Is a sacrifice, my dear.” You feel Jeongin shift under you as he watches you play with the blade. His breath hitches for just a second, one sweet second when you point the knife at him. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

He nods, hypnotized by the forbidden nature of your actions. Entranced by the girl that his parents warned him about. “Yes... yours.” He breathes with a shake that you don’t miss. Your eyes run over his face, committing his pathetic blush to memory. 

You slip the mask up, revealing your pretty face decorated with running mascara and red stained lips. “I am the only God that you will ever believe in.” The look in your eyes could control a crowd but the hopeless wreck of a man beneath you will have to do for now. “Say it.”

You slither down and off of his lap, sinking onto your knees and into a puddle of rainwater that welcomes you with a stinging chill. Jeongin watches you with a reverence that he’s borrowed from every Saturday he sat in bible study worshiping gods who could never excite him how you do. 

His inhale is shaky, his exhale is heavy but every word that leaves his mouth is as light as a feather. “You are the only god that I will ever believe in.” His voice trembles with a guilt that’ll have him clutching those pretty blessed beads his momma gave him for a week. 

“Again” His belt is already undone for you, his button popped and his cock aching and waiting for your touch. The feeling of your palm massaging his pulsing length has him gasping before he can speak again. “Again, c’mon.”

“You are the only god I’ll ever believe in.” It’s a moan, a profession of his fucked up devotion. His chest is heaving with anticipation as your fingers sneak into his pants like a spider and wrap around his drooling length. “What do we say to that, baby?”

The squeak of the pews as he moves to the edge, holding onto the wood for dear life punctuates each whimpering moan that he lets pass his chapped lips. “H-hallelujah.” That’s it, you lean forward rewarding him for his manners. Your tongue runs up his cock, base to tip and his eyes go white as they roll back. A classic case of possession. 

“Again” Your tongue swirls around his drooling tip and he moans, louder this time, “Hallelujah.” You take more of him with each moan, rewarding him for letting you bend his morals into pretty origami animals you’ll rip apart in a week or two.

“God, look at you.” The laugh that vibrates through the air is sinister enough to make Jeongin blush. His weak knees shake and his spine shivers as you jerk his reddened cock. You turn around, smiling at the statues, “Look at him.” 

Jeongin, whines, digging the toe of his sneakers into the worn floor as his orgasm climbs up his spine. “You are so fucking…” You stop, taking your hands off of him and making the poor boy cry in protest. “Easy.” It’s quick but you swear that you see a tear fall. He wipes it away, pulling himself together only to fall apart as soon as his gaze meets yours. 

“This is a church.” You scoff, feigning disgust. “You’re supposed to be worshiping.” He watches as you rise to your feet before him, his core trembles, his cock jumps. He’s hooked. “Well? Go on.”

Water sloshes beneath your feet, Jeongin barely breathes and you look at him expectantly. There’s not a single word that leaves your mouth but the order is loud and clear. He pushes himself forward. His knees meet the floor and he sinks. Those pretty brown eyes are begging for validation in a den of a dragon. His hands ball in his lap as he fights the urge to wrap his long fingers around his drooling length. The kiss of the cold air makes it jump until you step forward and assume responsibility.

The pew squeaks when you prop your sneaker clad foot up on it. Your soiled panties are on full display under your skirt, peaking through your fishnets and Jeongin swears for a second that you really are God. The brittle beseech of ‘can I’ that he musters up makes you smile fondly. He repeats it when you don’t answer, begging into the damp air. 

“Go ahead.” You nudge, handing him the dainty blade. He takes it with trembling hands and cuts the strings to your tights in a messy pattern that grants him access to where you're dripping. He’s entranced by the slick that connects your cunt to the soaked gusset of your panties when he pulls them to the side but he only admires it for a second before his tongue is moving through your folds like a snake in water.

He traces prayers and memorized verses onto your clit, tangling his tongue in spit and arousal so fervently that he almost makes you chant to him. “Right there, right there.” Your fingers grab and tighten in his hair, pushing his firm against you. Your eyes roll back, the demon of desire climbs up your spine and you’re reeling; holding onto the whimpering mess below you to keep your balance. 

The taste of you is throwing Jeongin closer to the finish line with each messy swipe of his tongue over your cunt. His grip on the handle of that dainty blade tightens, the tip piercing his thigh with a bite that makes him keen.

“Innie.” The grind of your hips against his tongue makes him drool, it’s a sight to see. You run your hand through your hair and that long forgotten mask falls into a puddle behind you. 

Your orgasm shows itself to you in the stars of your pleasure and you welcome it, trembling and moaning loud and wild as you cum all over Jeongin’s tongue. He moans, pressing the tip of the knife just a smidge harder against his skin. He plants sloppy kisses against your clit, helping you ride out your high while his own climax rushes over him. His cock jumps, red and weeping with thick ropes of cum. You pull back, detaching him from your core to watch him wreath against the cold floor; coming undone on his knees in front of the angels while you stand and watch. 

“Look at me.” His eyes blink open, his pupils glazed over and glassy. He’s a vision - Lips swollen and slick with your cum, cock twitching and dripping onto the floor. “What do we say?”

He swallows hard, moving his tongue over his lips to collect your taste before he whispers. 

“Hallelujah”  

Divider made by @rookthornesartistry

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[grandisknight]

xavier: your lipstick stains

summary: Xavier helps you out with the age-old dilemma of figuring out what lipstick to wear. Although, his personal take is one you’ve never thought of until now.

tags: established relationship, gender neutral!reader, fluff, lipstick, kissing, light evol use/mention, implied/suggestive ending, banter, teasing, one shot, in the bathroom, ‘starlight’ nickname

+ wc: 1.7k | ao3

a/n: inspired by that one moment in his lost signal card bc the lips line(tm) is canon ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

No, not this one.

Too warm, too cool—one would be too glossy while the other barely reflected any sheen coat. How many have you gone through at this point?

If only choosing a shade of lipstick was as easy as counting to three, you would’ve finished getting ready a while ago. A familiar pile of soaked cottons stained in shades ranging from a family of reds to browns sit off to the side of your counter. And currently, a freshly-dipped micellar round was swiping over your lips once more in defeat.

Great, another one bites the dust.

For some reason, today of all days, not a single shade complimented your appearance. The offended tubes of balm were littered in slight disarray, varying in size and color. There were enough of them present that you could line them up into a series of dominos and watch as they fall in succession. Your eyes narrowed at the selection, one of your own curation, in disbelief at the sense of betrayal they quietly emitted.

A pair of gentle taps break your dazed stare.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

The soft cadence was muffled between the thick wood separating the two of you, and your eyes lift to gaze at the door through the mirror. Past your own reflection, where your lips have seen better days. Right, he was waiting for you.

“Sorry, I promise I’ll be out soon.” You offer in apology, a slight pang of guilt pricking your skin at the sound of it.

It’s just lipstick. Should be something so simple and quick to get over with, yet here you were about to—dramatically so—end it all because not a single shade felt right. “Just, ugh. Doing something.”

“Would you mind if I stepped in? I can help you,” he offers, though makes no move to push the door handle. Patient as ever, a calm that was an opposite to your current storm of frustration.

You contemplate for a moment. But surely, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, right? A set of fresh eyes in comparison to your wearied ones that have engraved these shades, and your opinions on them, deep into your frontal lobe. So you decided then with a nod what had to be done.

“The door’s open.”

A pleasant creaking noise welcomed in the light from beyond and the man who shouldered it. Xavier was dressed to the nines, cream blazer neatly ironed down to the very creases and onyx turtleneck sneaking up to his Adam’s apple. A dreamy sight, practically glowing and an angel without wings—truly, the date night dress-code for an excursion out of Linkon did wonders.

His shoulders press against the doorframe, arms crossed in thought as he assessed the situation before him. A heartbeat passes in the moment his curious gaze trailed over your figure from head to toe, and away to the messy counter that housed your bathroom activities.

“You look beautiful,” he concludes with a matter-of-fact tone. His brow creases when you don’t even offer him a small smile, sensing the distress radiating from your stare. “Oh. Is something else the matter?”

“This,” you emphasize, pointing a finger to your lower lip. There was a slight stain of previous pigments, a testament to your efforts thus far, and a sigh pushed past it. “I know it might seem a bit silly, but I’ve been struggling with finding something that works.”

Xavier takes a step forward, crossing into the small space as you spun around in succession. Your chests nearly met each other in close proximity and a hand under your chin led your eyes to his. Reflectively, his thumb runs over the plush of the source to your current woes.

He hums. “Even your favorite one?”

“Even my favorite one,” you reaffirm. Your usual shade was a lost cause, which was when you knew that today was definitely not your day.

His eyes never left your lips as he posed another question. “I have one you might like. Would you like to try it?”

“Really?” Your ears perked at the suggestion, curious as to what mysterious shades he would have up his sleeve. “What is it—Mmph?”

A soft press of his lips against yours consume your query, neatly melting into your touch like a puzzle piece finding its match. By instinct, your eyes fluttered shut and arms looped around his neck, quickly welcoming the sudden lip-locking.

His hands smooth themselves over your sides, gently guiding your bodies to push against the counter and attached himself to you with a further dip of his head. The walls of the bathroom do well to echo every ardent press of his lips onto yours—the warmth of his mouth enhanced the light traces of cherry underneath his breath, a familiar taste that undoubtedly belonged to him.

It was only when you began to feel his hands sneakily toy underneath the fabric of your top and tongue push against yours that you pull back, breathless in effect.

“Xavier.”

The first call goes past his ears, his lips dragging past your chin and peppering a line across your jaw. As much as you enjoyed this—you were losing sight of the plot, and needed to pull on the reigns once more in reminder. Both literally and figuratively speaking.

A slight tug to his nape and an emphasis to his vowels, you call out to him again. “Xavier.”

He paused with the second announcement of his name, warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear. Xavier pulls back then, and you could barely make out the ringlets of his steeled blues with how dilated they looked at you instead.

“Sorry,” he breathes. A fleeting kiss to the tip of your nose adds to his apology. “I got carried away.”

“You’re fine,” you reassured, patting down his nape in turn.

Although, your brow raised as the question pushed down your throat from several seconds ago rises upwards. “What lipstick were you referring to? You know, before all of this.” You gesture between yourselves, only just now realizing how naturally his legs were slotted between your own, and lower back leaning into the counter’s edge.

“The color of my lips suit you best.” Xavier responds as if it was the most sensible solution in the world, an edge of sincerity to his simple yet meaningful words. “So, that’s my answer.”

Even so, you snorted, lightly pushing his forehead back with a finger. “Weren’t you the one who said that my lips suited you back then?” Memories of the promotional filming flicker in your mind, and the same happens to Xavier in the way his ears flush.

“Same difference.”

He avoids your teasing gaze, a hand lifted to shyly itch at the side of his neck. It didn’t last long, however, when his eyes twinkled in mirth as they returned to yours. “But, hm. Here's the thing...”

“Hm?” You echoed, though in confusion and a sense of foreboding. Searching his face leads you to your answer, where his now slightly chapped lips curled into a small smile. You swipe over his mouth in amusement. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

He answers amidst your touches, lightly nipping at your searching digit towards the end. “Looks like I’ll need some lipstick recommendations. Don’t you have any for me?”

“I might,” you play along, withdrawing your finger. Your hand cups his cheek in turn, admiring the way his face nuzzled further into your palm in wait. “But we’ll be late for dinner if I show you.”

“That’s fine.” Xavier answers almost too quickly, blinking somewhat innocently to spare some face in the height of your raised suspicions. “I think I’d want some dessert first before we go, anyways.”

"I don't think that's how this works—Ah!"

You let out a surprised yelp at his unsuspecting hands sliding under your thighs, lifting you to sit atop the counter. Your hands steady themselves on his shoulders, in slight disbelief at the newfound shift. A couple of lipstick tubes roll from the sudden intrusion, hitting the floor with light clicks and littering the tiles below.

Your huff matches his chuckle at the disposition you've found yourself in, and you lightheartedly cross your arms with a pout. “I thought you wanted the lipstick?” You quip, reminding him of his own proposal just mere seconds ago. "Now you want to talk about desert this and that."

"Am I not allowed to want both?" He candidly asks in turn, gaze lowered and long lashes kissing the height of his cheeks.

"...You can," you quietly confirm, words suddenly feeling dry at the expense of the heat steadily pricking your skin. Was it always this hot in here? It certainly was now, and you were far from complaining.

The butterflies in your stomach became tenfold as he drew closer to your raised body—one hand mindlessly caressed your thigh as the other gestured off to the side in a soft luminance. A whirr of light wraps itself around one of the closest rouges, seemingly floating in effect.

Xavier calmly uncaps the balm then, waving it around in the air with specks of light floating all about. It stops just before you, barely touching the skin below your cupid’s bow and moves with a faint swipe. “Then, I’ll just have to borrow it from you this way.”

He closes the distance between your faces once more, a kiss so fleeting yet purposeful sealing his promise. Another swipe of lipstick and a planted peck followed in suit—though a third brush of his lips against yours couldn't hide the smile on his face, enjoying the play of events under his crafted direction. He pulls back with a content hum, putting the lipstick aside and smoothing his hands over your thighs once more.

You find yourself staring at his lips, now equally as stained as yours and enhancing the natural hues of his pink. "You got your lipstick, and I got mine," you mused, pursing your lips together in thought. "Are we good to go now?"

"Not quite." Xavier shakes his head, nose nudging the underside of your chin and tracing towards your collarbone. He speaks into the cavern that protects your heart, fingers drumming against you before squeezing lightly.

"I haven't had my dessert yet, starlight."

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your daughter really wants a cat, and you're adamant that the answer is no... until it starts to look like a yes.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sanji x wife!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: daughter oc, sanji and reader have a child, chaos ensues, no use of Y/N

𝐚/𝐧: a very happy mother's day to all the mothers out there! had this in the drafts so i decided today would be the perfect day to finish it :)

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“So unfair!”

“Dyla! Dyla!” You called after your daughter as she sprinted down the hall, nearly slipping on her socked feet, and disappeared around the corner. A door slammed a second later. 

You ran a hand over your face as your husband sauntered in from the kitchen, eyeing the hall as if to see that the coast was clear. Sanji had a habit of disappearing the moment your daughter showed signs of a tantrum.

Today was one of the worst ones, all because you’d told her no. Sighing, you managed not to throttle Sanji when he grinned and offered you a cookie, fresh from the oven. You swiped it and took a bite, letting the stress roll off your shoulders as the cookie melted on your tongue. 

“What’s she fussing about?” Sanji wondered, prompting you to roll your eyes to the heavens as you shoved the whole cookie in your mouth, swallowing it too early and wincing as you choked it down.

“She wants a cat,” you told him as you placed your hands on your hips.

Sanji raised a brow. “And you said no?”

“Of course I said no!” You pinched your brow. “We can’t take care of a cat.”

“... Why not?”

You shot him a sharp look, gesturing toward the window giving you a beautiful view of the sea and her rolling waves. The small ship rocked underneath you. “I’ll give you one guess.”

He followed your gesture and had the nerve to shrug, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So? Cats love water.”

You flicked his forehead and swept over to clean up the pile of blankets Dyla had left out from her pillow fort. “Wrong. They hate water.”

“A cat would chase off the mice?”

“Whose side are you on, Sanji?” You tossed all the blankets into one pile as your gaze was drawn back down the hall again. 

“No one’s, my love,” he said softly, resting his hands on your shoulders and rubbing small circles on your back. “I’ll talk to her. Maybe Aunt Nami will make her a stuffed cat when we dock in a few days.”

That brought a smile to your face, though only slightly. Sanji pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “She’ll be over it in an hour.”

“You sure?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“... I won’t dignify that with a response.”

And sure enough, three days later, when you docked in Cocoyashi Village, Dyla’s mood had improved greatly. Hopefully, by the time your family returned to your sea-top restaurant drifting somewhere in the East, Dyla will have given up on her cat fixation.

That was until Aunt Nami promptly squashed all your hopes.

“Aww, c’mon,” Nami whined, a pouting Dyla on her hip. “Let ‘er have a cat.”

Sanji barely choked back a laugh at the way your whole face fell at your daughter’s sudden excitement. You ran your hand over your face, pulling at your skin, and shot Nami a glare. “Our lifestyle isn’t ideal for a cat.”

Dyla groaned, dropping her head onto Nami’s shoulder. Catching your eye, Nami chuckled nervously. “Oh, yeah. I don’t think a kitty would like living on the water, kid.”

Again, a prolonged whine came from your child. Nami pursed her lips, obviously trying to think of something, before her face brightened. “Hmm, does it have to be a cat?”

Dyla lifted her chin, head tilted. “Huh?”

“Your pet. Does it have to be a cat?”

Your daughter spent a moment in thought, her eyes flickering to side as if assessing invisible calculations, before she shrugged. “I guess not.”

Nami beamed at her and shot you a grin. “Perfect! What if we find a pet that would love being at sea, huh? I think your mom would compromise.”

Dyla’s hopeful eyes found you in an instant, and you grinned halfheartedly. “If you find a pet that likes water, and promise to take care of it… I’ll say yes.”

She let out a giddy squeal, squirming out of Nami arms and racing toward the rows of tangerine trees. Dyla wasted no time in digging around in the dirt. She talked to herself off in the distance, tripping over roots and kicking around fallen, rotten fruits. Nami bumped your shoulder with her own, now standing between you and your husband. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed softly. “With our luck, she’ll bring back a cobra.”

“Compromise,” Nami sang, starting toward the little girl now hanging from a low tree branch, screaming for help at the top of her lungs. 

Sanji swept around and took both your hands, quickly drawing you away with a tiny smirk on his lips. You raised a brow. “Yes?”

“The others will be here by evening,” he said. “Which means we only have a few hours to ourselves.”

Shooting a glance back over your shoulder, you found Nami somehow waving you off whilst she held Dyla’s legs up, the girl monkey-barring up and down the branch. You whipped back around and gripped Sanji’s hand in a vice, giggling like a kid again. “Let’s go.”

Up and down the streets of Cocoyashi’s neighboring port, if you could even call the little village a port, you and Sanji raced and teased and danced around markets and docks. His lithe fingers tickled at your slides as he ducked through the meager crowd, and your sneaky hands tugged at his hair before you darted behind a stack of crates.

Sanji’s arms caught your middle when you tried the trick again, laughter spilling from your lips. Chests heaving, he released you just enough for you to spin in his arms and peck his lips. People were staring, sure, but neither of you could care less. 

Sanji suggested the pair of you find something to thank Nami for babysitting. Halfway into agreeing, you spotted something… odd, just over his shoulder. Lightly tapping his arm you moved around him and slinked toward the tower of metal crates resting in the shade of a building. Beside it a market stand of various jewels and fine metals were being sold. 

“You wanna get her a necklace or somethin’?” Sanji wondered aloud, promptly guiding you forward with a hand on your back till you dug in yoru heels and grabbed him by his shirt sleeve. You only shook your head, slowly approaching the vendor. 

You stopped in front of the crate tower, and only then did Sanji realize what the matter was. Within the confines of the very bottom crate was a creature, curled into itself. Its little body was orange and striped and shivering. As you knelt on the ground, two of the tiniest fear-filled yellow eyes peered out at you.

Emotions welled up within you. Reaching out a hand to tap the cage bar, your heart tightened around nothing when the cub flinched away. “That can’t be comfortable, can it…”

“Ah!” The creaky voice of the vendor interrupted your thoughts. “I see you’ve found my little friend!”

Your eyes darted up to find a sorry excuse for a man staring down at you. Sanji stood over you with a matching scowl. The vendor simply kept on with that irritating glow in his eyes. “Right from the jungles of Little Garden!”

Slowly, you rose from the ground and settled the man with a steely look. A thousand possibilities came to mind, but only one arose to topple the rest (a possibility you saw yourself regretting in the very near future). “How much?”

“You won’t find a better—Wait.” The man stammered, hands clasping together as an excited laugh left him. “Of course! You’re very direct, dear! I like it!”

Sanji’s lips curled. “Just tell me the price.”

The man choked on air, cheeks flushing. “Yes, of course. Apologies.” He paused and did a little mental math, taking in the livid expressions on his clients' faces, and also the fact that they seemed in no mood to bargain. “Three thousand berries.”

The expected lashing out, followed by heated bartering, never came. Sanji only reached into his coat pocket and slipped out the appropriate amount of paper slips, slamming it all down on the wooden stand. The vendor’s mouth was agape as he scrambled to pick it all up, absolutely ecstatic at the course of events. “Lovely doing business with you!”

You held back from spitting out what you really wanted to say, instead turning and shoving the tower of crates over, sending them all crashing to the ground. A lid popped off and sent several copies of a supposedly one-of-a-kind bracelet across the market ground (a young woman in the business of purchasing one scoffed and swiftly swept away). 

Together, you and Sanji left the scene and the vendor in hindsight, a cramped little crate in the arms of your husband. 

Sanji looked down at the crate, then back at you. Your face hadn’t lost that fuming sort of look all the way back to Cocoyashi. “Darling?”

“Hmm?” You blinked suddenly, as if waking up from a bad dream. “Sorry. What?”

“Are you all right?”

You puffed out a sigh. “I’m fine.” Casting the crate a look, “Just wallowing in my hypocrisy.”

“Someone will be happy, though,” Sanji laughed.

You reached Nojiko’s house to find it empty, save for the sleeping form of your host in the dark of her bedroom. Sanji set the crate on the kitchen table and only then did you plop down and run your ahnds through your hair. “I’m too impulsive.”

Sanji came up behind your chair and kissed your head. “No. Just passionate.” He nosed your hair. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Sweet or not,” you started, “we’re down three thousand berries and up one… tiger cub.”

Sanji dropped down to be eye level with the opening of the crate. “I think he’s cute.”

Your husband softened his eyes and inched his hand forward, unthwarted by the cub curling away from his reach. “Dearest, grab some dried tangerines, yeah?”

Choosing to humor him (do tigers even like tangerines?), you rounded the table and swiped a few dried slices form the bowl on the counter. Sanji bounced on his heels like a kid on Christmas, slipping a slice through the bars and waiting. To your great surprise, only seconds passed before the cub lunged forward and took the slice in his little jaws.

Sanji laughed, bright eyes darting up to you. “He likes it!”

You set a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to peer in on your new friend, a grin tugging at your lips. Those little yellow eyes blinked widely as he swallowed all of the treat, a low gurgle signaling his request for more. 

Nami and Dyla returned three hours later, your daughter perched on her aunt’s shoulders. Luffy and Chopper were right on their trail after meeting them at the docks, Usopp met up with them on the trail to the orchard, and Zoro appeared somewhere between the docks and the house having little to say about how he got there. 

The door swung open and the lot was faced with a peculiar sight; you and Sanji on Nojiko’s couch, which wouldn’t have been odd at all if it weren’t for the tiger curled up on Sanji’s lap. 

Nami’s jaw was on the floor, her eyes filled with mirth. She met your eyes and couldn’t hold back her laugh. “That isn’t compromise. That’s conceding.”

Rolling your eyes, you defended weakly. “Plans changed.”

Dyla slid from Nami’s shoulder in one swift motion, on trepid feet as she approached the couch. Her eyes flickered from you and her father before landing on the cub. “Mom?”

“Yes,” you playfully exasperated. “He’s ours.”

She hesitated, eyes widening when the cub yawned, showing off his little fangs. Sanji, barely able to hide his smile, nodded to the bowl on the table. “Bring ‘im a tangerine, love.”

Scrambling to do as he asked, she came back with the whole bowl in hand as the group settled in around the kitchen. Nami hopped onto the table as Zoro leaned beside her, the pair watching on in mixed awe and hilarity. 

Zoro scoffed as Dyla squealed at the feel of the cub’s sandpaper tongue on her hand. Despite the apparent smile on his face, he declared to Nami, “If I ever start gettin’ domestic, slap me.”

Nami decided to keep to herself that she knew for a fact Zoro learned to cook just to ensure Luffy ate more than raw materials three meals a day, and that the white powder under his jaw was definitely flour from making pancakes that morning. She pat his shoulder with a shake of her head. “Sure thing, mosshead.”

They tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Dyla scratch at the cub’s head and announce for them all to hear, “His name is… is… Strawhat!”

The only one to humor the name at all was Luffy, who jumped over to kneel beside Dyla as if he only just tuned into what was happening, his hat hung on the back of his neck. You chuckled wryly. “You sure? You can think of something—”

“Strawhat.” Dyla crept closer to the little tiger, locking eyes with the creature and having some sort of surreal connection only a child could understand. “His name is Strawhat.”

Strawhat mewled as if to agree, pawing at Dyla’s pigtail. 

“He’s really cute!” Luffy bellowed through a laugh, waggling his fingers in front of the cub’s face and getting a swipe of claws in return. “Hey, easy, buddy!”

“Quiet down!” Nojiko appeared in all her sleepy glory, hands bracing herself on the door frames, and her eyes scanned over the room till she found Strawhat. She silently blinked and breathed till she shook her head and retreated into her room, murmuring under her breath. 

Luffy broke the silent moment by tucking his hat on Dyla’s head, dragging another stifled laugh from her. Strawhat crawled toward her till they were nose to nose, and the cub sneezed so suddenly Dyla lurched backward. A laugh bubbled out of you, hardly hidden behind your hand as you leaned into Sanji. The day’s events quickly caught up to you as your eyes fluttered upon the scene of Luffy and Dyla playing with the tiger cub, now feeling safe and content in that little house with your daughter. 

Sanji’s lips found your temple as you struggled to stay awake. Across the room, Zoro rolled his eyes while Usopp and Nami awed, and Chopper finally joined in on the fun and started up a conversation with the little tiger cub. 

Safe to say Nojiko was irate by morning, but Dyla smile was positively brilliant.

[002yb]

Dick who keeps a picture of Robin Jason in his wallet, the corners weathered with age, his face smudged like a thumb has gently stroked over it over many years.

Over the years the coffee shop owner of his morning route has watched him pull out his wallet and stare at the plastic window for several seconds, a sad forlorn look on his face before taking out his change to give over.

Then one day he turns up with someone else by his side, rosy cheeked and a smile on his face. When he opens the wallet there’s a new picture, this one bearing a striking resemblance to the man next to him. With the wallet open the stranger sees what is inside and immediately his face blooms red, stutters falling out his mouth.

Dick laughs, a huge booming laugh and he looks the happiest he has ever been. The photo smiles back at him.

Everyone always goes on about Bruce keeping pictures of all his kids in his wallet, but fffffffffff Dick doing the same. ;/////; And it's something his siblings tease him about relentlessly because it's actually just one picture and that one photo happens to be Jason, hahaha. Just Jason assuming he's Dick's least favorite in the family while everyone else knows Jason is Dick's favorite.

Which is a headcanon neither here nor there because anoooooon!! This is such a gift, thank you! You write beautifully. (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) Dick's melancholy is so heartrending but touching and ahhhhhhh. This is just really sweet and made me smile. I love smitten/lovelorn!Dick!! Especially when the hurt ends with comfort and he's so brilliant and happy with Jason and ♡♡♡♡♡ !! Thank you for sharing this, anon~ //3///

Silly thoughts inspired by anon's post below the cut:

Where the day of the reveal (per above (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)), Dick and Jason are waiting in line at that coffee shop. And it's casual; lighthearted and comfortable as they banter and bump shoulders.

And Dick is fighting back amusement because Jason is adamant about treating him. Only the card he proudly pulls out is pretentiously black and has Timothy Drake embossed across it.

Despite Dick halfheartedly telling Jason 'no', Jason pleads his case. It's the perfect crime! The banks won't suspect it because the purchase will be small and ordinary. If the account isn't flagged, just imagine what else they could get up to. A paid honeymoon vacation, maybe. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Just Jason having zero faith in Tim checking his bank statements.

And Dick teasing Jason about how Tim at least has a bank account and a credit score to speak of.

Which Jason shoves Dick out of line for because wow, big bird. Jason has lines of credit everywhere. First and foremost: Tim.

'Not me?'

'It's based on net worth.' Jason would quip, which would earn him a shove this time and he'd cackle all the while.

Then Dick would get a call. From Tim. And it'd make them both snicker because the timing is perfect.

Dick taking the call outside, but not before handing off his wallet and telling Jason not to use Tim's card

Jason scoffs over it, but does as he's told (because he'll run this scam with Damian instead).

And it's as he's paying that he opens Dick's wallet and sees that photo. The old one which will be replaced with an updated one later. It's of them. Him.

It's from a lifetime ago. Worn and frayed at the edges in a way that tells of how often and carefully it's been handled. Jason swiping his thumb over it, mirroring all the times Dick would do the same. Jason would be able to tell. And his heart would ache and his breath would catch and--

When he looks out the window, wide eyed and with a pink stain warming his cheeks, Dick would already be looking at him. Just as wide eyed because he realizes he unintentionally exposed himself. It's a vulnerability that passes as quickly as it comes though because it's Jason.

Flustered as he is, Jason smiles. Sharp and brilliant. And he'd hold Dick's wallet up to flash the photo while pointing at it. Playing the menace although his cheeks are bright and flushed.

Even though Dick is on the other side of the window, Jason would still call, 'How embarrassing!’

And Dick can read lips. He laughs, incredulous as he shakes his head and calls back, 'We're dating!'

Jason loves to hear it.

But yeah, Jason cackling as he finishes up their order. Standing off to the side as they wait for their drinks and smiling the most biting of grins as he teases Dick for being a sap. Playing keep-away with his wallet.

Something something these two being in their own world. Crowded close as they flirt. Jason slipping Dick's wallet back into his pocket and being the most giddy/smiley boy because he's a romantic and Dick unwittingly romanced the fuck out of him.

Dick caressing his thumb over Jason's cheek and smiling this devastating grin because he doesn't need a photo anymore.

(இ﹏இ`｡)

And then their moment is interrupted by the barista calling out, 'Loverboy!' because that's the name Jason told them to put down.

Dick laughs that big laugh. Loud and beautiful and contagious. The sort of laugh that makes even strangers smile and that makes Jason's heart sing. ;//////;

Dick taking Jason's hand as they go up to get their order. Bringing Jason's hand to his lips to brush a kiss over Jason's knuckles. And Jason is so soft about it because he can feel Dick's smile through it; his breath as he fails to bite back his laughter.

Just Dick feeling like the luckiest man in the world and it showing.

Jason being overwhelmed by that because he's not sure anyone has ever felt grateful for him. He gets it though -- to feel so lucky.

[angelpuns]

Donnie practically pushed Mikey out of the way to get through the door, squeezing past him just in time to see the fading blue of one of Leo's portals. 

He’d barely had time to grab his bo, head still fuzzy from sleep and pajama pants uncomfortably askew from Being woken suddenly. 

Mikey was in a similar state of disarray, his shirt riding up his shell and his eyes wide and glancing around the room wildly. 

They'd both been woken by Leo's shouting, rushing out of bed to help their brother only to find Raph in a Leo-free train car. 

“Raph? What happened? Why was he yelling?” 

As his brain woke up, he was reminded of their mission for the day: reverse Leo's ‘family-forgetting’ curse or whatever it was. 

So it probably had something to do with that. 

“I dunno! I came ta wake him up like he asked me to yesterday and he just- he started shoutin' at me!” Raph turned, holding his hand to a small cut on his arm. It bled sluggishly, and Donnie quickly opened a drawer in Leo's desk that he knew had band-aids. 

“ He musta had a nightmare or somethin’, I tried to help but I think I only made it worse “ Raph worried, letting Donnie slap the band-aid over the cut, “ he didn't seem ta recognize me or know where he was or anythin' “ 

They were silent for a moment, before Mikey piped up. 

“ But he’s never made a portal during a panic attack before….are you sure it was that, I mean-”

“ oh my banana pancakes,” Donnie slapped a hand to his head. His mind had been running through every possible Leo could have ‘woken up and chosen violence’. 

It could have been a nightmare. But the answer was so obviously related to their current curse-relted predicament. 

“ The curse! It’s not- He didn’t just forget us the one time, “ He explained, starting to pace. An uncomfortably hot feeling pooled in his stomach, anxiety bubbling up from there. He shook his hands out in an attempt to dispel the feeling, the lingering worry about Leo now being somewhere totally random making him nauseous. 

“ It's- its like he resets! He must have forgotten again when he went to sleep- like- like he just got reset overnight!” He rambled, grimacing, “ This complicates everything, how’re we gonna get him to cooperate if he wakes up with a different reaction to three strangers every single day!? How are we gonna fix this is if he forgets the curse even exists!?”

Raph stopped him, hands on shoulders. 

“ Donnie, take a breath,” he sighed, and Donnie reluctantly stopped and shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. 

“We can get him back, no problem,” Raph smiled, “ ya still got that tracker in ‘im, right?” 

Donnie blinked. Right, how could he forget? 

“ of course! TO THE LAB!” he whipped around and hurried for the door, trusting they'd follow him. 

“ I'm sure ‘Nardo can fend for himself, he does have his swords,” He noted, if only to make himself feel a little less anxious, “ but I would rather him not be wandering the streets of NYC without half of his memories.” 

He continues to ramble, even as he stepped into his lab and  whipped out his keyboard, quickly pulling up the tracking device coordinates and corresponding map. 

“What if he doesn't come home before night? Will he just forget us again?” Mikey asked, swiping some stuff off of Donnie's desk and taking a seat on the surface.

Mikey suddenly gasped, grinning, " this is just like that one movie! With Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore!"

Donnie grimaced, but he had bigger concerns right now. Even if those were parts to a pretty important project. He opted to ignore that and just think harder about the actual matter at hand. And the plot of 50 First Dates. Just in case it could actually help them somehow.

“ I assume so, yes. And that amnesia-riddled plot is more medically related, so sort of but not really."

"What's more concerning is that he probably won't remember why he's out there, and that will probably introduce more anxiety to the mix,” Donnie murmured, watching as Leo's indicator moved slowly through the streets of New York. He was on then other side of the river, and seemed to be hopping rooftops for now, “ like I said, he can take care of himself, but we should at least try and convince him to come back to the lair before nightfall. I don't know if his amnesia is progressing or not yet, which is also concerning.” 

Silence again. There was also the obvious concern about Leo being gone. Which, unfortunately, seemed to be one of the more difficult things they'd been collectively working through. 

The first six months or so, Leo was never left alone. Not for lack of trusting him or thinking he wasn't capable of taking care of himself ( although he was fairly injured for most of that time ) but for the fact that none of them seemed to want to let him out of their sight. It was partially why Donnie had upgraded the trackers to track their vital signs down to their blood pressure. He didn't like not knowing. He didn't like remembering the feeling of Leo being gone after- 

Donnie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. It was gonna be okay. Leo wasn't gone, he just wasn't in the lair. And he couldn't possibly know how anxiety inducing that was due to the aforementioned amnesia-curse. 

But they knew where he was, and they knew he was okay for now. 

The computer suddenly let out a beep. then another. Donnie looked up, watching as Leo's dot stopped moving. His heart rate increased, and the beeping increased with it. 

There was one thing that they hadn't really accounted for, after all. 

The chance of Leo ending up in a fight.

-----

Part 3 to the unnamed fic/au/whatever this is

I don't like this part as much, but I really am just trying to get the idea out of my head and into writing, haha! So I hope the OOC-ness of everybody isn't too bad :)

I think this would def work better as a fic, but I am kinda wanting to explore it as a comic too. Comics just take a lot of time and I can't do all the fun thought-stuff I like to do on fics so :/

Ah well I will simply keep doing whatever I want, so enjoy.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

the one. ( adam davenport x reader )

gif belongs to me

"Chase, go away. Now."

You approached the two brothers in the hallway, where they waited for Leo and Bree to join them for lunch.

"Okay..." He glanced over his shoulder as he left.

You crossed your arms, glaring at your boyfriend, who tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell me? We're not supposed to keep secrets from each other."

Adam looked at his younger brother, who was listening nearby, and you turned, seeing Chase swiping his hands, signaling for Adam not to answer. His arms quickly dropped to his sides when you met his gaze.

You glared at the genius who smiled sheepishly before running away. You looked at your boyfriend, who smiled nervously, fidgeting with his backpack.

"When did Leo get a girlfriend?"

The tension in his body left as he exhaled in relief. "That's what this is about."

"Yeah. Why do you have any more secrets?"

"Nope." He smiled brightly.

You narrowed your eyes before deciding he was telling the truth. "Who is it? What's she like? Why didn't he tell me?" You chattered. Your demeanor switched from deadly to resembling an excited puppy, and Adam was relieved that this was the secret you were referring to.

"He swore me to secrecy. He thinks you'll go overboard."

"No, I wouldn't." You looked at the ground, putting your hands behind your back, trying to mask your excitement, but after dating for two years, Adam knew when you were trying to trick him.

"Yeah, you would." He chuckled, placing his arm around your shoulders as you walked. "Remember when he had a crush on the girl from his American history class? You walked by her locker talking about how great he is every morning for a week."

You sighed, resting your head against his chest. "Do I at least get to know her name?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, a pout on your lips that almost made him crumble.

"Sorry."

You crossed your arms and walked away. Adam chuckled as he caught up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lifted you into the air, making you laugh.

"Sorry, babe." He kissed your cheek. "I took a brotherly oath."

You nodded in resignation. "I forgive you. This time."

Adam smiled as he set you down, and you turned in his embrace to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him tenderly.

He knew that you would try to find out who Leo was dating. If you didn't, your head would explode with all the questions you needed answers to.

When you started dating, Adam was thrilled with how easily you got along with his family, although at times, it was stressful trying to cover their tracks to protect the secret about their bionics. You knew Leo from around school before you met Adam, and it was Leo who introduced you to his step-brother after he noticed the way you both stole glances at each other.

Whenever Bree had a crush, the house was filled with excited squeals as she shared every detail. But after spending so long trying to impress her, Leo didn't want your excitement to spook Janelle.

It was difficult to keep secrets from you, although he understood the importance of keeping his bionics a secret, trying to stop you from seeing Leo and Janelle around school together quickly grew tiresome.

While waiting for you to meet him for lunch, Adam walked over to where Leo was sitting after saying goodbye to Janelle. After spending a week running interference, he was exhausted and could see how disheartened you were that Leo wouldn't confide in you.

"You know, keeping my bionics a secret is one thing, but lying to my girlfriend constantly is really hard for me. She just wants to know if you're happy. I mean, what am I supposed to tell her?"

Leo patted his shoulder, "I know. And don't worry. I invited Janelle over this weekend to introduce her to everyone."

Adam sighed in relief. "Finally."

"You still need to make sure she doesn't freak out like she did the last time."

Adam nodded, lifting his head when you approached. Leo shook his head when a fond smile appeared on Adam's lips as he got to his feet. He knew how much you cared about them, and after trying to prepare Janelle as much as he could for the onslaught of excitement mixed with wary interrogation, she still agreed to meet his family. And knowing marriage was on the horizon for you and Adam, he thought of you like a sister.

The next day, you were stunned when Leo told you he had invited Janelle over to meet everyone. As he predicted, you were more excited than his mother.

"Her name is Janelle?" You grinned, holding onto his arm. "Ooh, what is she like? How did you meet?" You wrapped your arms around him, swaying from side to side as you squealed. "Oh, I'm so happy for you!"

Leo looked at Adam over your shoulder, who was watching the moment with an adoring smile. "You see? This is why we couldn't tell her."

There was a knock on the door, and Leo slowly approached it.

"Now, remember, everything is cool. Everyone is calm." Leo pointed at you, and you moved to stand next to your boyfriend who was sitting on a barstool.

Adam placed an arm around you with a smile, "He's talking to you, babe."

"I'm cool. I'm calm."

"Really?" Chase raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Because you're smiling like a crazy person."

"Hey!" Adam brought you closer to his chest. "It's beautiful crazy person."

You smiled at your boyfriend, who kissed your shoulder while Chase rolled his eyes, and Bree shook her head in amusement.

Leo opened the door, and when you caught a glimpse of Janelle, you released a squeak before covering your mouth when Leo looked over his shoulder. Adam rested his head on your shoulder, hiding his smile.

"Hey, Janelle. Come on in."

She sent him a small smile as she entered and he closed the door. She looked around the room, and Tasha stepped forward to introduce herself and Donald.

"You've met Bree, Chase, and Adam." Leo gestured to the bionic siblings who waved.

You slipped out of Adam's hold to step forward and shake her hand. "Hi! I'm Y/N."

Janelle smiled, nodding. "Yeah, I've seen you both around school." She nodded to Adam. "You guys are really cute together."

You turned to your boyfriend, "She thinks we're cute!" You turned to Janelle, ignoring the way Leo swiped his hands, signaling for you not to say anything. "I love your name. Janelle and Leo. Leo and Janelle. It's so adorable. You make a really good couple. Not that he talks about you - well, not to me. Apparently, I will get too excited and embarrass him. But he really likes you. I can tell just from the way he looks at you."

"Adam!" Leo gestured wildly in your direction.

"I'm on it." Adam approached you, and Janelle watched with amusement as he carried you over his shoulder.

"We should go shopping together!"

Leo ran his hands down his face as you continued to ramble, and Adam took you to the kitchen. Bree and Chase shared mirthful glances as they followed.

"Way to play it cool." Chase chuckled.

"I am so sorry about her. She gets carried away sometimes." Leo smiled slightly as he stood with his girlfriend.

Janelle giggled, "It's fine. I like her. They're adorable."

Leo perked up, "Really?" He looked over at where you were whispering to his step-siblings while Adam watched with a bewitched smile on his lips. "Give me a second." He gestured for her to take a seat and walked briskly to the kitchen. "She finds it adorable. Come on!" He whispered.

You smiled brightly, and Leo shook his head when you almost knocked him over as you rushed to join Janelle on the sofa as his siblings laughed.

"That's my girlfriend." Adam crossed his arms with a smile as they observed how quickly you and Janelle got along. "My adorable, crazy girlfriend."

Leo shook his head as a smile grew on his lips. Since you started dating Adam, you bonded with his siblings easily. Bree was thrilled to have another girl to talk to, and when Chase talked, you didn't tell him to be quiet like the others - listening intently and taking an interest. It was clear how smitten Adam was with you. Everyone knew that he would tell you the truth about their family soon because it was hard to imagine Adam without you tucked beneath his arm.

You looked at your boyfriend with a smile, and his feet instinctively brought him over to the sofa, sitting next to you. Bree sighed, smiling as she followed Chase and Leo to the sofa.

"How many embarrassing stories have you told her?"

Janelle bumped her shoulder with Leo's as he sat next to her. "None." She sent you a smile that you mirrored, leaning into your boyfriend's chest. "Yet."

"Trust me, there's so many." You giggled.

"And she's not exaggerating," Adam added.

He turned his head when you looked at him and returned the smile you sent him.

"When you get married, I call maid of honor," Bree spoke up.

You smiled at the brunette when Adam placed an arm around your shoulders, resting on the back of the sofa. "Deal."

From the way her brother was looking at you, she knew she wouldn't have to wait long.

[hazbinshusk]

day nine of salem's unofficial attempt at kinktober: handjobs/public (husk x gn!reader)

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Husk slumps into the chair beside you, scowling into the bottle in his fist. You hold back a sympathetic frown, reaching under the table to touch a comforting hand to his knee. His ears flick forward at the touch, his grimace softening incrementally, but otherwise doesn’t show any reaction to your touch.

It isn’t personal – Alastor is on a roll today with the belittlement, and his latest insult as you were all sitting down to dinner had clearly stung. They weren’t overt enough to register on Charlie’s radar as anything more than vague jokes, but you knew just how badly they were getting to Husk. If it wasn’t for the fact that they’d recently declared ‘family dinners’ as a mandatory form of team bonding, the bartender would rather go hungry.

Sliding your hand back and forth over his thigh in a slow, soothing rhythm, you let your nails graze over his inner thigh in the way you know he likes. He’s nursing the bottle rather than eating, but you feel him shift in his seat, his thigh twitching under your touch as he spreads his legs slightly wider. Smiling to yourself, you take the movement as an invitation to bring your hand idly higher.

Alastor’s holding court at the far end of the table, regaling all of you with some story you’re barely listening to. But each time you notice Husk react your hand moves higher, massaging into the lithe muscle of his upper thigh. He groans lightly in the back of his throat, covering the sound by taking down a mouthful of whiskey. It’s a sound you love, usually reserved for the intimacy of low lights and soft sheets. And despite your better judgement, you swallow and cast a surreptitious glance around the table before bringing your hand up to cup him through his trousers.

Husk stiffens, ears shooting up in surprise as he chokes on his latest gulp of whiskey. Still, you find him half-hard and the front of his pants damp with pre-cum. You see his adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“Doll…” he says it warningly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You feign innocence, poking at your food with your fork. A soft, almost playful growl sounds in the back of Husk’s throat, barely audible over the chatter of the others. Still, he doesn’t stop you as you unfasten the button on his pants, the sound of his zipper lowering sticking in your brain.

Husk inhales sharply as you dip your hand into his pants and wrap your fingers around the length of him. Leaning into the side of him, you bump your shoulder briefly against his. “Relax, minou.”

“You’re insane,” he mutters, eyelids fluttering closed briefly as you begin to pump his cock, spreading pre-cum along the length of it.

“Mm-hmm.”

He exhales, shakes his head in amusement, brings the bottle back to his lips. You stroke Husk slowly, careful not to let the movement of your arm show above the table. Alastor is still talking, but Husk doesn’t seem to care anymore, too focused on maintaining his composure.

You feel his erection swell further under your touch, feel the barbs along the length of it rise to tickle against the slick skin of your palm.

Husk’s paw comes down to clutch at your thigh, claws digging into your flesh slightly as you pump his cock in a slow, steady rhythm. You squeeze the base of him each time you reach it, swipe your thumb over the tip the way you know drives him mad.

His pupils are dilated, his breathing heavy. Vaggie glares at the two of you suspiciously for a moment when she notices, but looks away again when you ask Charlie a clarifying question and scoop a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

Husk is thrusting his hips ever so slightly into your hand, his hand so tight on the bottle in front of him you’re surprised the glass doesn’t crack. His tail thrashes behind him, the feathers tickling at your ankles each time it passes.

“Christ…” he murmurs through gritted teeth, his body tense. Your fingers graze soft, downy fur with each stroke, and the way he shudders tells you all he wants to do is turn to press himself into your side and bury his face in your neck. The barbs on his dick grow firmer and less forgiving under your palm as he nears release, and he hisses quietly as you flick your thumb against one of them.

You quicken your pace, leaning your other elbow on the table and resting your chin on it to better shield the movement with your body. The casualness in your posture seems to infuriate Husk, and his hand leaves your thigh to touch the small of your back instead. It’s a daring touch for him in public – he so often avoids public displays in front of his boss to discourage him from seeing just how much he cares for you. But then, he’s never let you jerk him off in public, either.

Husk slips his touch up under the back of your shirt, his claws grazing against your warm skin. “Doll…”

You smirk softly to yourself, biting your lip as you swipe your thumb over the sensitive underside of the head of his cock. Husk groans, low in the back of his throat, and his claws grasp at your shirt hard enough to tear the fabric as he spills himself into your hand.

[fourmoony]

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 (𝟑)

james potter x f!reader

fluff. 1.8k

Summary: James and Sirius miss Hope's first steps, but not her first time on a broom.

i love this little family so much, so now consider 'hope' as a mini series :) - h <;3

part 1 - part 2 - part 4 - masterlist

...

Hope is standing in the middle of the room, her little hands outstretched towards Remus.

He’s holding a magic camera, his eyes wide and words encouraging as he talks to her. They’re in matching pyjamas Sirius bought everyone the previous Christmas that have little Christmas trees and candy canes on. It’s March, the night before Hope’s first birthday, but the matching pyjamas have become a staple of lazy days spent in yours and James’ home. Hope wobbles on her feet a little, big blue eyes wide with laughter. Remus laughs too, snapping photograph after photograph as his niece stumbles towards him.

You’re cheering, too, from behind her, hands clasped to your mouth. You’ve been an emotional wreck all day. Hope turns one, tomorrow, and you’re starting to understand why James is adamant she’s growing too fast. It’s been nine months. The war is still raging on but being able to come home from the potion’s lab, or an order meeting, and have your little girl be there, safe, loved, and a beacon of pure light and joy, makes everything a little less scary. You fight every day for a world in which she can grow and be safe. You know a lot of people aren’t so lucky. But Hope has lived up to her name’s sake for your family.

And now she’s going to be one.

And she’s taking her first steps towards Remus, who’s cheering loudly, and your daughter is giggling, and you’re crying.

Tears of pure joy are streaming down your face when Hope finally reaches Remus and falls into his arms. Remus sets the camera down and picks her up. He holds her to his face, blows a raspberry against her cheek, and she howls with laughter. When he sets her back down, Hope tootles back towards you, bright eyed, wide smiled, and fast on her feet. You’re waiting with open arms, ecstatic when your daughter collapses into them. Remus is back to snapping photos, which you’re glad of because if James isn’t already going to be gutted that he missed Hope’s first steps, he’ll be livid if he finds out there’s no photographic evidence of it.

“Oh,” You breathe when Hope’s tiny hand tries to swipe at your wet cheeks, “Oh, my sweet girl.”

“You okay?” Remus asks, though he looks just as close to tears despite the wide smile on his face.

You nod, wipe at your tacky cheeks, and send hope off to play with the collection of toys she’s set up in the middle of the living room, “She’s growing up too fast, Rem.”

Remus laughs and nods like he agrees, “You sound like James.”

“He’s going to be so annoyed.”

“We have the photos,” Remus tries to placate, but you both know James is still going to pitch a fit about missing Hope’s first steps.

Sirius, too, probably.

Remus gets up to make a cuppa for you both and you settle back to watch Hope. When he returns, you sit on the floor together and watch her. She’s in her own world, not a clue that it’s going to be her birthday tomorrow. She has no idea all your friends will be over for dinner to celebrate her, that there’ll be gifts for her, and cake for her. In a way it’s nice that she doesn’t have a clue. You know one day, when she’s four or five, and she understands more, that you’ll likely have to scrape her off the ceiling from excitement.

When James and Sirius get back Hope is on the suite with a bottle, half asleep. None the wiser, James leans down to press a kiss onto her head as he passes into the kitchen to find you and Remus. The kitchen windows are fogged up, a pot of soup bubbling away on the stove whilst you wash dishes and Remus dries and puts them away. The radio is playing softly in the background, mixed with the soft sound of Sirius’ voice as he talks to Hope about his day.

James appears in the doorway and he’s smiling the kind of smile where you know that he’s feeling grateful for the scene he’s come home to.

“Hey,” He greets you both.

You smile, drying your hands on a tea towel, and approach him for a kiss. You’re on your tippy toes when Sirius starts screaming from the living room. Your blood runs cold as Sirius shouts for you, James, and Remus, mind running wild with every possible danger that could have unfolded in the two minutes he’s been alone with Hope. There could be Death Eaters at your house – though, it’s physically unplottable, the thought still runs through your mind. Hope could have fallen from the couch onto her head. The list is endless.

The three of you are out of the kitchen and standing wide eyed in the living room in record time, scanning for any sign of danger. Sirius is standing by the window, jumping up and down excitedly, pointing at your daughter who is waddling towards him with a wide grin. She’s giggling again, and it’s that sound that kills your fight or flight mode. Now, you smile happily, watching as James proceeds to dissolve into a fit of tears.

He’s smiling and jumping with Sirius, but he’s sobbing uncontrollably, too.

You and Remus share a look. A silent question. Should you burst their bubble?

“Why aren’t you two more excited?” Sirius accuses.

And now you don’t have a choice because you’ve been caught.

“Babe,” James points, like maybe you can’t see your daughter walking back and forth, and he drops to the floor and corrals her into his arms, “Hope is walking!”

You nod, smiling wide, “Yeah, I see.”

Sirius looks at Remus. Maybe it’s because James is too distracted with kissing all over Hope’s face and mumbling how proud he is that he hasn’t noticed, but Sirius notices the way Remus is nervously biting his lip and immediately gasps.

“Treason!” He points at his boyfriend, wide eyed and accusatory.

“What?” James looks up, brows furrowed.

You and Remus are shifting on your feet. Hope sidles up to your leg, arms wrapping around your calf. You take the opportunity to bend down and pick her up, avoiding James’ question.

“How was shopping? Did you find the doll for-“ You try.

“Stop deflecting! They knew! She’s done it already!” Sirius is hysterical.

James stands, hands on his hips, and you fold.

“I’m sorry! She only did it literally like an hour before you got home!”

“We have photos.” Remus tries, backing away from Sirius as he charges at him.

James looks positively heartbroken. He frowns, blinks, “I missed her first steps?”

You frown, walk towards James, shift Hope further up your hip. He wraps an arm around you both, looks down at his daughter and his resolve softens. He smiles, leans forward to kiss her head. She gurgles, looks up at him with bright blue eyes. It fills your heart with love. Sirius and Remus are bickering to your right, and James is talking softly to Hope about how she must wait for him before achieving any more important milestones. You’re so grateful, so filled with love and joy and hope for the future.

The world isn’t perfect.

But when you have a family like yours, the world feels like maybe, one day, it could be.

“Don’t hate me.” You mumble, leaning your head on James’ shoulder.

James huffs a laugh, presses his lips to the crown of your head, pulls you in tighter, “Never, ever.”

“Did you get the doll?” You ask.

James nods, you feel it against your head.

You still have to wrap Hope’s presents. You should really get her to bed soon. But you don’t want to leave this moment with the people you love most.

“So, can I go get the toy broom from the cupboard?” Sirius asks. He and Remus seem to have made up. Sirius is leaning against Remus’ chest, a wicked smile on his lips.

You sigh, look at your daughter, mentally debating. Sirius has been dying to get Hope on a broom since he met her. You gave him strict rules – not until she could walk. And now she can walk. But a part of you worries she’ll love flying. The toy broom is charmed to fly, so you know she can have that. But Hope’s birth parents were muggles, and you know when she gets older, she won’t be able to mesh her magic with a broom to make it fly. Unless.

“Fine. Okay,” You concede. “But no higher than the coffee table!”

Sirius isn’t listening, already throwing winter coats and Christmas decorations out of the cupboard to get to the toy broom.

“I’ll get the camera.” Remus announces.

“What do we do when she’s too old for the toy broom?” You ask James, gnawing on your lip.

“I’ll look into some charms for bigger brooms, I’m not too sure. I’m sure there’ll be a way for her to be on a broom, at least.” James replies, just as antsy at you.

You’ve talked at length about how if you and James have more children, one day, Hope will be the only one without magical abilities. But you’ve never been able to come up with an actual solution. Really, there’s not one. It’s going to suck. But right now, while she has the chance to fly, who would you be to stop her? You never want to hold Hope back. You never will. So, when Sirius returns and takes Hope from your arms, hands the broom to James, you can’t help but feel excited.

James holds the broom and Sirius sets Hope on it.

She’s clumsy, holding onto Sirius’ arms rather than the handle, and she kicks her feet violently, which makes the broom wobble. But Sirius moves with her, laughing with pure unfiltered happiness. Remus snaps photos, following Sirius and Hope around the room. You sit, legs crossed, on the floor, a hand on your heart because you feel like you might explode. It’s cute and it’s happy and your house is filled with so much joy.

“At least I got to see her first time on a broom.” James placates with himself as he sits down next to you.

You laugh just as Sirius tries to take his hands off of Hope. She wobbles and almost topples off the side of the broom and you fly forwards. By the time you get there, Hope has corrected herself, and is flying with ease just high enough for her tip toes to be touching the ground. You still. Let out a breath. Sirius looks up guiltily.

“Her first and last.” You tell James.

“What’s that burning smell?” Remus asks, before Sirius can argue back.

You frown, looking around, “The soup!”

“Shit.” Remus abandons the camera and follows you to the kitchen.

From the living room, you can hear Sirius assuring Hope that it won’t be her last time on a broom, that her uncle Sirius will make her a quidditch star in no time. You hope, by some miracle, that he's right. You'll love her either way, though.

[rainbowmothed]

── I'M NOT A VIOLENT ANGEL. I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE.

· ★ · basically just me rewriting vaggie's fall + chaggie first meeting. trigger warning for blood, gore, murder, classic extermination stuff!

Vaggie felt the pressure settle on her shoulders as she spread her wings, lines of black smearing across the crimson sky of the underworld in a flurry of feathers as she and her kin descended from the beaming light illuminating the once darkened sky, atmosphere thick with the already fresh scent of bitter blood.

Guilt was all Vagatha could manage to muster in her soul, her very being. She never liked to be an exterminator. She didn't know why– most of her kin adored slaughtering the “demon scum” of the underworld. And Vaggie knew she was no different than them, no less shameful in comparison despite feeling butterflies churn in her stomach before she drew her angelic spear. Six years she had spent as one of Adam's top girls, always cast to be on the front lines, praised by her peers for being one of the most merciless, blood-thirsty ones out there.

And oh, how she despised it with every single fiber of her being.

Vaggie cringed as she remembered the proud slaps on the back and reassuring pats shoulders after every extermination as they rose back to the skies above afterwards, the shouts of “good jobs” and “that was even better than last year” filling the air, choking her, suffocating her as the words shoved their way down her throat until soft tears pricked her eyes and her skin flustered with shameful heat.

God, she hated her job. And it was strange. She was created for this. Created in the Heavens for the sole purpose of reigning massacre upon people who were seen as nothing more than the dirt under their heels, when, in reality, Vaggie knew they were far more than that. They were once human souls, who once had lives, and who once had families, who maybe still did have families. She knew she'd killed at least one husband who had a wife and kids at home, waiting, and one wife or one child. Likely far more than that.

So many denizens had crumbled to their knees at her hands as she lodged the blade of the spear into their flesh. The flesh she was meant to see as worthless, puny, disgusting, sinful. Wretched. But the flesh she saw only bore hints of light, shimmering under the surface, waiting to be unveiled, until it was cut short and dulled as their black blood splattered across the alleyway floors and concrete sidewalks, heads slamming down as they met their gruesome fates. Perished.

And this year, Vagatha knew she would do the same thing. Or rather, should do the same thing. She was given a sharp nod to descend as she continued through the air. Her previous guilty thoughts had made her work up a tad bit of a nervous sweat, so she pulled away the mask that concealed her face, swiping away the sweat that stuck to her forehead like bothersome glue. Not bothering to put it back on, Vaggie simply attached it to her waist, feeling it thud against her hip as she flew down into the alleyway, boots finally making contact with the glass-lined gravel below.

Expecting to see some looming, wretched soul, Vaggie was only greeted with a cowering little child, far younger than her, far less defenseless. Where were its parents? It didn't deserve to fall. Not like this. “Go, run.” Vaggie urged, before she could form a second thought about her own actions, pulling her blade far away from the thing's throat and waving it off. Sparing it. The guilt had become unfathomable, and she was no longer even in control of her own body. Pathetic.

However, the sounds of footsteps behind her made Vagatha quickly snap out of her daze, wings perking up with surprise as she drew her blade, expecting some idiotic, bold sinner, only to feel a hand grasp her shoulder. Vaggie’s eyes widened as her lips parted, attempting to let out a flurry of excuses as she saw Lute’s face before her. Grinning, merciless.

Oh God.

Vaggie let out a shrill shriek of pain as she felt the angelic weapon pierce her eye, gouging it out and letting it roll onto the ground below. Vagatha’s stomach churned with nausea as she naturally fell to her knees, letting out another cry as she felt Lute’s boot press against the top of her skull.

“Traitor scum like you have no place in Heaven.”

Vaggie attempted to choke out a plea, a beg for mercy, but was cut short as she felt Lute’s gloved hands wrap around the base of her wings, pulling back with relentless force as they were ripped from her body, another pathetic splatter of neon green, angelic blood splashing across the ground. Vaggie felt like she was going to retch from the pure amount of adrenaline and pain pumping through her skin, her being, her very soul.

Guilt. Harsher than before.

Guilt for betraying Heaven. Guilt for slaughtering the people of the underworld. Guilt for not living up to her superiors’ standards of her. Guilt for every single thing she had ever done wrong, crashing down on her at once.

—

Vaggie shakily stumbled up to her knees as Adam and Lute walked away, snickering under their breaths and beaming with nothing but pride. No guilt themselves; nothing but happiness and unfiltered glee at finding a traitor amongst their ranks and properly punishing her for it.

All for sparing one measly child.

Vaggie tore away the mask that still hung to her belt, exterminator uniform soaked with blood and torn in some places. In a moment of anguish, mixed in a blurred puddle with hints of anger, she ripped it all from her body, leaving herself in the clothes she had underneath. Vaggie tossed it into the dumpster that lay against the wall of the alleyway, her neon green blood splattering down the side of it as she threw it to be picked later.

Still weakly clutching the spear in her hand, she leaned her back against another dumpster, trying not to brush the stumps of her ripped off wings against anything to prevent any further agonizing pain. She already had plenty of that, her eye now an empty socket, vision nowhere to be found beside the one she still had. Thank Lute for that, she mused. Didn't take her vision completely.

Vagatha was silently praying for some random imp to come pick her off. Finish the game her superiors had started, end her pathetic life once and for all. Lay her corpse against the dirt of the ground she once saw as beneath her. Funny, seeing as how the people she once saw as her victims, albeit with a bit of shame, could slaughter her right here and now with absolute ease.

Vaggie didn't even cry. The tears would've hurt her eye too much. She felt them boiling under the surface, yes, but they never trespassed that burning point, never spilling or teetering over the edge just right to drop. Vagatha soon enough heard footsteps approaching. Great, her future murderer had finally come, just as she felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness due to the sheer amount of blood loss.

Instead of the expression of a cruel murderer, she was greeted by the face of a shocked denizen. Gorgeous, with blonde hair, streaked with honey hues. Pale skin, with rosy cheeks, akin to that of a marionette. Beautiful. If this woman was the last thing Vaggie was to see, she would definitely be able to go out happy compared to her earlier predicament. The bitterness flushed out of her soul as she stared up at the demon, waiting for the blade to press against her neck. For her to end her suffering.

But it didn't.

Instead, a bandage was carefully wrapped around her missing eye, the denizens fingers soft and delicate. Perfect compared to her own, scarred with the memories of the lives that had been taken by them. It made her expression soften. It was the little things that made Vaggie swoon like that, and this was definitely one of those little things.

Was she falling for the woman who she thought was going to slaughter her just a moment ago? It was a tad funny, actually. The flusterment only grew as she saw her tuck a piece of blonde hair behind her porcelain-hued ear, diverting her gaze as she cheekily smiled.

This girl would definitely be the death of Vaggie, but in a completely different way than she was originally anticipating.

[k-n0-x]

༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid-Chapter 4·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N: Hey guys! I managed to get this chapter out early coz I am so hot and amazing at everything my social life is at an all time low and we have Easter break. Some foreshadowing if you guys can guess, but keep it to yourselves for now. Mommy issues y/n? That’s a first 😨😨😨😨. This chapter is also Lucifer basically being: “No, you’re so sexy haha don’t cry”

Also, the slow burn is burning now! YAYYA 🎉

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Enjoy! <3

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

You sit on the patio of your home, feeling as though you’re rotting away. 

It’s been 5 days since Adam’s full blown out tantrum, but it feels like it’s been 5 lifetimes. 

A cockatiel lands on your table, its bulging inky eyes staring at you, vying for your attention. 

You laugh, and give it some crumbs of your leftover toast from breakfast that you couldn’t bear to finish.

The bird eats them graciously, and flies away, you watching enviously. 

Oh, how you wished you were that bird. Carefree, and not trapped in the gilded cage that you are in. 

If only… 

Bzz bzz

Your phone rings. The contact Mom glows on your screen. 

Unwillingly, you swipe right. 

“Hey mom, what's up?” This woman never calls you, unless there are three instances; she needs you to get her something of monetary worth, wishing you a happy birthday/any other significant holiday, or-

“Darling, there's something I need to talk to you about. A little birdie told me that you've been stepping out of line recently~” 

Ah yes. The third instance. The times when your actual fucking personality shows, even for a sliver of a moment, and how it  could potentially hurt your ‘relationship’ with Adam. 

“Mom, it's not that big of a deal. I just was feeling rough recently, and-”

“Well it doesn't matter what you feel does it? What matters is that you honour our family. Being married to Adam is what's best for you. You acting outwardly is seriously jeaprodising your relationship, and I am just trying to help you stop before it's too late,” Your maternal figure’s sing-song-like voice turns sharp in an instant, like it could cut through butter. 

“You were always a wild child, a disappointment, I am trying to help you-”

You interrupt. 

“How are you helping?! Belittling me, treating me as some sort of– some do Ill?! I have tried, given my whole entire fucking life, trying to please you in every way, but somehow, it's never enough! And when I do fuck up, suddenly I'm a failure in your eyes?!” 

Silence.

“You better mind your language young lady,”

“NO! I will NOT mind my FUCKING LANGUAGE. I will  swear when I want to, and I will do whatever I FUCKING WANT! I AM DONE WITH YOU AND YOU- YOUR WAY OF THINGS!” 

You press the end button, calmly. 

You storm up to your bedroom and closed the door. Calmly.

You look at the bookshelf, always so perfectly clean, scarce of dust. 

Perfectly clean, no imperfections. 

You let out a cry of irritation and just start throwing out books, ripping the pages of each, crumpling sheets of paper, sobbing hot angry tears while doing so. 

When that was done, you just bring the entire bookshelf down with a bang, and you stomp on it until you feel a sharp pain in your foot, surely that's a splinter right there. 

You stumble over into your bed and scream and cry in your pillow, amongst the mess.

You submerge yourself in your pillow even more, until your anger numbs away, leaving you with a throbbing pain in your head. 

Absolutely drained from your outburst, you drift off. 

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

Everywhere is foggy. 

You look around, looking for anything of use, when your attention is turned to a glowing light, placed on a rusted pedestal. 

Since it's the only thing that piques interest, you touch the fluorescent ball and yelp when it scorches your hand.

“Ow,” you pull your hand away and decide to look for anything else. 

As you trek through the nothingness, you  feel like you're being tugged down by an anchor, or treading through quicksand. 

Suddenly, the ground gives way under your feet. 

You’re falling. 

The cold air whistles through your ears. 

You try to fly with your wings, but nothing; it feels like they have been ruthlessly ripped from your body.

You feel as though you're being stretched, squished and deformed like play dough, until you hear and feel something cracking. As you fall, you look towards the light. 

At the entrance of the hole, there are many, unidentifiable figures, just, staring at your downfall. 

You want to scream and cry for help, but it feels like your mouth has been cemented shut. 

A faint noise calls your name, which sounds closer and closer each time as you fall helplessly. 

You make a successful-ish attempt to turn on your stomach. 

In your horror, you see a halo, cracked and muted of its previous glow. Your halo.

Not that far below you, there are hot red coals. 

Oh God. 

The voice becomes louder and closer and you hit the ground with a scream. 

You jump up, to find yourself back in the dump that is your bedroom, slicked with sweat. 

“Oh my God, Y/N! Are you alright?” Emily, who was tentatively paving the way to get to your pathetic self. 

“Emi, hi… Yeah, just eh, rough day,” you smile weakly at the Seraphim, who’s concerned expression shows that she doesn't believe you, but she doesn’t want to put you under pressure.

“What’s all of this?” Emily motions to the wrecked room.  

“Adam pulled a tantrum again?” 

“Huh? Oh that, nono, sorry uhm,” you pause to clean the room as it was with the snap of your fingers.

“Why are you here Emi? Do you need something?” You wipe your eyes, but your bloodshot eyes are still apparent. 

“No, I just wanted to hang out with you, but I can come back if it's a bad time,” The Seraphim stumbles over her words as she looks up at you, slightly flushing.

“No, no you can stay. I’m just a little bit shaken up, but yep you can stay. Uhm….” you trail off. 

This place is feels really constraining

You need an escape. 

“Hey Emily, wanna go on an adventure?” You put on a face of newfound enthusiasm. The Seraphim just had that effect on people.

“Of course! But er, where?” 

“Shh, it's a surprise, now let's go!” You push Emily into the portal you made and go in yourself. 

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Woah, this is what it's like?” Emily says as she looks around the hellish landscape like a lost puppy.

She snaps out of it when you drag her out of the way of a thrown carcass headed towards the both of you. 

“Yeah, let's head inside,” You manoeuvre her into the hotel. 

The lobby is more populated than your last visits to the establishment, though all faces are familiar. 

“Emily, meet Angel, Husk Alastor, Charlie, who you know already, and-” Your voice dies down in your throat at the sight of the Demon King, with his strapping jacket and top hat. 

What is going on with you today? 

“And Lucifer,” You motion to the King, who gives you both an acknowledging nod. 

Your heart misses a beat. 

“Well uh, there's one more but I don't know where she is… WOAH NIFFTY!”

The little scamp runs towards the Seraphim with a knife about to stab her with malicious intent. 

“Niffty, no. No stabbing any more angels we talked about this,” Angel grabs the knife from the housemaid and throws it in the trash can. 

“Ugh, not a bad boy,” Nifty grumbles and begrudgingly rushes off to god knows where. 

“Well everyone, this is Emily, not sure if Charlie has told you about her but-”

“Is she your kid?” Angel asks. 

“I’m sorry, what? Oh no, no she is not my kid pff,” you say. 

“Huh,”

“Well as I was trying to say, Emily here is another person on our side,” You give Emi an encouraging squeeze of the shoulders. 

“Well this is quite the improvement. Salutations! Pleasure to meet you,” The radio demon greets himself, extending his hand to shake Emily's. 

She takes it, though cautious. 

She turns to Charlie and warms up to the amicable face. 

“Hi, Emily, er obviously you know who I am,” The princess of Hell welcomes her, as some of the other Hotel residents go off doing their own thing. 

“Oh yes. Y/N told me about you, obviously we've met before, but under less casual circumstances,” Emily scrambles for conversation. 

Obviously, they need a little push to loosen up with each other. 

“Charlie, maybe show Emily the garden? Or maybe the entire hotel for that matter. Emi here has been dying to have a look around,” 

“Oh yes! Let me show you some of the suites, I decorated them myself,” Filled with giddiness, Charlie beckons the Seraphim upstairs.  

Emily turns to you, unsure. 

“Go on, don't worry, I'll be waiting here!” You give her a persuasive smile and shoo the pair upstairs. 

Now you had some time to kill…

“Hey!” 

“Agh!” You jump at the voice of Lucifer. 

“Geez, am I that scary?” He laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder. 

“Pff as if-” You snicker and give him a playful shove back.

“Anyway, how've you been? How's the old rusted machine been?”

“Are you always going to make digs and remarks at my husband in an attempt to get all three of his wives in your pants?” You raise an eyebrow sarcastically.

He sighs, feigning sorrow. “You know me too well. I thought it was the perfect plan, but clearly I'll have to tune it a bit,” The demon rattles on, but your brain fixates on the one word he said. 

Perfect. 

Something you try so, so hard to be, but apparently isn't enough for your mom. 

If your mom doesn't love you as you are. 

Well, what's to say anyone can? 

“Well, what do you say, Butter-Duck? You have to find a nickname for me, but I'll call you that regardless, hmm?”

His question brings you back to the conversation. 

Which, leads you to ugly, fat tears. 

Lucifer’s face contorts into panic. 

“Wait, I'm sorry, it's was a rubbish nickname, sorry I thought it was funny-” He puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“No, no it's not that,” You rub your eyes, your voice croaky. 

“The reason is quite silly, really, it's fine, I'm just being stupid hahha,”

Lucifer is not convinced. 

“Listen, you helped me out the other day, and even though I'm not good at this comforting stuff, please, at least let me listen,” He gives you a weak, gorgeous smile, one that is enough to make you stop crying about. 

Okay, it's really becoming an issue of you being distracted by…

Him.

“Well, just an argument with my mom; basically just her saying how much of a disappointment I am and-” your voice creaks.

“And?”

“And I suddenly just don’t feel like her daughter,just a burden she has to put up with, and then what’s the point of all of this if you're not perfect,” 

And breathe. 

You put your face in your hands. 

“I’ll never find love,” 

“Hang on, but isn't Adam your husband? Don't you love him?” 

“No, I don't. It was a marriage purely organised by my parents. Completely transactional,” you mutter dejectedly. 

“Shit, that really sucks. Listen, I know it's hard to hear, but you need to hear it. Nobody is perfect. No one. That's what makes people interesting. And your mom wanting you to be that is far from perfect of her. Not sure if you're aware, but we're in Hell, right now, amongst many people who are basically morality rejects. But you, you're a Winner. Not in the physical sense, but also metaphorically. And for what it's worth…” Lucifer takes a moment to mull over his next words. 

“Many people love you, like Charlie and, that Seraphim, Emilia?”

“Emily” You amend. 

“Anyway, that's besides the point. The point is that you have many people that adore you, and that's what matters most,” Lucifer comes closer and stiffly puts his arms around you, which you return. 

“Thank you, Lucifer,” You sniffle into his shoulder. 

“No problem, anytime. You are my friend after all,” He gently smiles.

Your heart flutters. Friend? As in, person he considers more than an acquaintance? 

“So, what's this about a Butter-Duck?” You tease. 

“What? I thought it'd be a cool nickname for you,” He huffs. 

“Alright, alright… Let me think of a nickname for you then… Lulu!” 

He grimaces. “Ugh, that sounds like a name for a baby products brand!”

“Oddly specific, but if it annoys you more, all the better!” 

“Ugh, you're like worst than some sinners here I swear,” 

“Who said Angel’s can't be jokesters too?” You give him a wink. 

He coughs, a rosy red complexion appearing on his face.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

Emily and Charlie come back into the lobby, to you and Lucifer making small talk on the couch. 

“Ready to go?”

 Emily nods. She goes to hugs Charlie, which is reciprocated. 

“Well, I’ll see you around?” You squeeze the demon’s king hand. 

He looks at you, and nods, hesitant to return the gesture, as if you were glass. 

“Yes, I will,” 

As you and Emily leave to make your way back to Heaven, you could've sworn you heard Lucifer whisper three words. 

“I love you,” 

You turn back with a questioning expression, but all that was on his face was nonchalance.

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

Word count- 2,194~

Taglist:

@dionysusismypatrongod

@glowymxxn

@froggybich

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello! Hope you're having a good day/night/afternoon. Also can I request a Mikaela Hyakuya, Ferid Bathory and Yuichiro Hyakuya x nezuko reader, the reader has nezuko's powers and is basically nezuko. And they see their s/o (nezuko reader) fighting someone for the first time and when the reader was fighting with the person she awakes her full form like nezuko did when she was fighting Daki and she is basically destroying the person she is fighting with, how would they reacted? (Btw you can pick who the reader is fighting with)

That is all thank you <3

Nezuko Reader | Yandere Owari No Seraph

Landing in this apocalyptic and futuristic world with your sibling, there's much to learn. Depending on who you both fall into the hands of it’s a different experience. Immediately your difference from those around you is seen and usually greatly admired. Hence their further surprise when you show a side they’d never seen before: 

Yuichiro Hyakuya

Saving your sibling on patrol is where they first meet

Of course, the box they carry is a great point of mystery

One that’s revealed when the sun has gone down and they're safely at the base

“Whoa! You carry your family on your back? Like all the time?”

“Yeah! This way I can always protect them.”

“That’s a really great idea! I want to try it sometime.”

He definitely feels close to you and your sibling

Absolutely loving the bond you two have

Adoring your playful but silent nature

So more likely than not you’ll find himself inserting himself into your sibling's time

Not necessarily to offer himself as a brother particularly but as a part of the family

As he plans to be anyway

Fighting alongside your katana-wielding sibling he finds they work pretty well together

But this particular adversary is especially hard to beat, taking advantage of the night the whole team is struggling

At this point, Yuu is debating calling on Asura but is stopped by his amazement

You look different, no longer childish or pocket-sized

Now he believes your sibling’s description of you as a demon

He watches with envy when your brother has to calm you down

He vows that next time he’ll be the first to soothe your soul

“(Y/n) you’re so sweet so kind…I’m happy to make you a part of my family.”

Mikaela Hyakuya

He probably meets your sibling first when he’s called on a mission to investigate an anomaly on their turf

Put off by his….partner’s aggressive tone and command your sibling is adamant about not causing trouble

But his….partner…gross seems to hit a sore spot when they demand they open the box

The sun is setting and your sibling is putting up a fairly good fight 

But poor humans..,all it takes is one hit and debilitating crunch and their down

But the moon is high and the box opens to reveal you 

A demon that easily bests their calvary and gives his partner a run for his money

It takes his common sense to threaten your sibling’s life before you halt your massacre

Once you're in custody he shows an express interest in your case

Promising to himself and you that he’d protect your sibling

“Your brother…reminds me of someone else I know. Someone I’m looking for.”

He sees himself in you, turned into something against your will and trying to survive in a world that demands you succumb to your horrid instincts

When he makes a break for it he’s taking you both with him

Once he finds his Yuu then you both can go far far away

So that you both can be monsters away from this horrible world

Even if you struggle and swipe at him 

He’s going to help you 

He’s going to do this

Your agreement isn’t needed

He’s used to dealing with a rowdy troublemaker 

This is no obstacle to him

“Calm down. When I’m done you’ll get your sibling back and that’s all that matters right? Then you will listen to me. And only me.”

Ferid Bathory 

A part of the welcoming envoy that comes off too aggressively

A different-smelling human with a box on their back of course he’s interested

Even more so when they fight him upon questioning about that box

Only to find he’s completely at a disadvantage with the animalistic rage that you come out with 

“Oh my, to think I thought I knew only one vampire with a sibling complex.”

He is intent on taming you constantly trying to force you to drink human blood or better yet eat human

But you won’t cave

But neither will he

With your sibling in custody and you at his disposal

He feels as though no one can stop him

After all, it worked out the first time he broke a family up 

He doubts it wouldn’t work now

He just hopes you don’t freak out like you did before 

That was scary it slows progress

“When you finally let go and succumb to your hunger I’ll be there.”

[neesieiumz]

orange peel theory || a cherub’s apple drabble.

read full fic here

based on the trending orange peel theory. 1.3K WORDS

heart banner by @todorosie , orange banner by @cafekitsune

THE SUN SEEPED into the windows, dulled by the thin curtains around it. Even with that, it awoke you, your eyes slowly prying open. the first thing you noticed was the weight that kept you pressed up against a warm body. A smile threatened to form on your face, now hearing the soft snores of your husband beside you, as he kept you close. His large arm wrapped carefully around you, his hand resting upon your stomach. Where the love between the two of you coalesced.

18 weeks along, four and half months, yet everything had changed but stayed the same.

A long sigh left your lips as you stretched, your spine and other bones popping, releasing the air that gathered in between the crevices. Quietly, you pulled your husband’s arm away from you. It was a routine, you using your pillow, soaked with your fragrant as a cheap replacement to let him sleep some more.

Your husband is a tired, hardworking man.

Reaching for your drawer, you pulled out a thin nightgown to cover your naked body. As you shimmied into it, a shiver almost froze you in your tracks. Letting the dress fall onto your body, you pressed a hand against your swollen stomach.

“I know, I know, I’m hungry too, give me a second Peach.”

The two of you undoubtedly dubbed her Peach, ascribed to the day you found out you were with child. Kento had planted the said fruit tree within your private coven on the Orchard Grounds, next to the pomegranate trees you had planted for your family that had long passed. A sign for new things to come, for new things to grow.

Your cold feet slipped into your slippers, as you strode towards the door to your bathroom, and after a quick two minutes, your mouth now clean, as fresh as dew-misted mint. Slipping out of the bathroom, you no longer heard the soft snores but rather heavy breathing, indicating your husband was going to wake up soon. out of your room, into the office area. Before you knew it, you had finally slipped into the kitchen, to satisfy your and Peach’s desire for food.

A soft whistle left your lips as you glanced at the options in front of you, “what to eat… what to eat…”

A flutter of blinks, a pondering hum, and then a, “yeah, ice cream for breakfast sounds amazing Peach. You absolutely read my mind.”

However, just as you grabbed the sweet treat from the freezer, spoon and bowl in hand. It was inevitably swiped out of your hands. A whine left your pouty lips as you turned around, seeing the naked, hairy chest of your husband, his outstretched arm holding the tub of ice cream up and away from you.

“No fair, give that back!” you tried to reach, stretching up on the tips of your toes to give that back.

Low grumbles rumbled off of his chest, watching, in the corner of your eye as he shook his head. His other arm came up and around you, “what did I tell you about ice cream for breakfast, my love?”

You only pointed further, crossing your arms, “it wasn;t for me, It was for Peach.” you mumbled, leaning back into his chest.

He let off a low hum as he squeezed you slightly, to keep you close as he put the ice cream back before closing the top door fully. With a now free hand, it came up around you, holding you close as he began to just simply sway you. Heat bubbled at your chest, the warmth of his touch washed away all the contempt of being pulled away from your ice cream. You felt his neck strain, before giving you a long smooch on your cheek, before moving right to your plump lips. It was soft, easy but oh so delicious. He tasted mint, cool to the touch, evidence of him brushing his teeth before making his way out here. He was very adamant about dental care before kisses, especially with Peach growing within you.

Giggles left your mouth, spilling into the kiss, “good morning, Kento.” you mumbled, your eyes fluttering open to look at his closed ones

You felt him smile against your lips, before letting go slightly, “good morning, darling.”

A chill ran down your back at the sound of his morning low-tones, you ignored the way something pulsed within you. Instead, you turned around, his hands still locked together, now around your hips instead of your protruding abdomen, sliding your lukewarm hands up around his back, resting on his back shoulder blades.

“Anything you wish for breakfast?” he asked you, the two of you locking eyes, “except for sugar-filled ice cream?”

Another pout.

Kento saw your lips downturn, your mood souring slightly at the sound of his ban on ice cream, before a sigh left his lips, “okay, ice cream one hour after breakfast, and not too much.”

A squeal left your mouth, “yes,” you hissed, taking a step back to look at your belly.

The two of you decided on a breakfast that didn’t inspire a flare of nausea within you. A savory toast, with avocado, at least Kento’s will have it. You’re not a fan of the unsweet “fruit” and Peach is definitely not a fan of it either. So yours will simply have turkey bacon and egg on it. You also wished for vanilla yogurt, to hold you over until your ice cream treat, paired with your three favorites. While Kento cooked down the eggs and breads the two different types of toast, you wanted to help, grabbing a bowl, and putting different fruit within it, to chop up the French toast.

While chopping up the strawberries, after rinsing the blueberries, those were usually the two fruits you had with your vanilla Greek yogurt. Your eyes suddenly floated towards the bowl of oranges sitting right beside your husband, just as he was plating the two pieces of toast loaded with avocado, eggs, and bacon. His one plate, while yours was resting on the counter beside the oranges.

“Kento,” you started, “can you hand me two oranges, I want to add them to my greek yogurt.”

He hummed, confirming that he would. You thanked him, before continuing to chop up the last of your strawberries, wishing to sprinkle a little sugar on them before putting them in your bowl of Greek yogurt. Suddenly, you heard porcelain grating against the countertop.

Glancing down, you saw oranges resting on a small plate. They were peeled, and pulled apart as well, each slice resting on its curved, flat side, all facing the same way. You couldn't help the smile that appeared on your face, eyeing the mint garnish on the side of the plate as well.

“I didn’t ask for mint you know,” you said, picking up the plate and sliding them into the bowl, mint included.

“Whenever you have oranges with your yogurt, you inevitably have some mint leaves added to it,” is all he said, holding both plates in his hands.

Walking past you, he placed a short but sweet kiss on the top of your head, before walking towards the dining table. Your smile never went away as you mixed the fruit into the yogurt, before separating it into two different bowls and bringing it toward the table. Brown eyes landed on your walk, just as he placed the bowls down, taking two long strides towards you, taking the bowls out of your hands, before placing each other in their correct spots.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased him once more, taking your seat at the table.

The morning went as such, with such sweet memories and many more to come. Peach’s joy came out in bouts of kicks as you ate the Greek yogurt. The taste of the oranges with hints of mint came especially sweet to you, glancing at your husband who ate away at his food as well.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Smutty Shorts: Christmas Edition

Jake Jensen x Reader

18+ Only Blog

Happy Holidays everyone

You were straddling Jake’s lap, your hands down the front of his soft flannel sleep pants with his cock in your hold while you played with him. 

Your sweet man had his head thrown back against the top of the couch, his Adam's apple bobbing while he muffled the noises that begged to burst forth. “Oh Fuck.” He muttered under his breath while your tongue traced up his neck to suck on his earlobe. 

“Sssh Jakey, you don’t want to wake your family.” You whispered with a giggle while your hand firmly tugged on his cock and your thumb swiped around his swollen tip, feeling the drops of precum leaking from him. 

“Tryin’.” He groaned, his hands sliding up and down your back to press you in closer to him, your breasts crushing against his chest while you pulled his cock out to have more room to work him. 

Hard and throbbing in your hand, his hips lifted slightly to help him chase that sensation. Your own hips started rocking, getting turned on watching him do his best to chase that high, make it last longer and keep quiet. 

It was early hours Christmas morning and nothing but the tree filled with presents was the only witness to Jake’s predicament. 

“I want you to come, Jake.” Your voice husky against the shell of his ear, whimpering. “Can you do that? I want it so bad right now.” 

“Where?” He grunted, fisting his hand at the back of your head and pulling you away to look at you, his gaze wild the more you kept working your hand up and down. You grinned at his question and quickly pulled out of his lap to your knees between his spread legs. 

Jake’s eyes widened at what you were offering, your mouth open and tongue sticking out while your hands gripped his shaking knees. His hand replaced yours and sped up, pulling himself hard. 

You reached to fondle his balls as they tightened, drawing up while he gave a muffled warning, shooting his load on your face, sure to jerk his cock towards your open mouth and tongue. 

His load smeared across your face, your tongue coming to trace your bottom lip in satisfaction. Above you Jake had collapsed against the couch, his glasses pushed up to the top of his head as he had an arm slung over his eyes for a moment, deep pants making his chest rise and fall. 

“Don’t you dare move yet Baby.” He said as he straightened, tucking his limp cock away and reaching for his phone nearby. 

You wiggled in place to get yourself sitting real pretty, posing yourself to glance up at him with his spend glistening across your face, the Christmas Tree just out of focus behind you. “Merry Christmas Jake.” 

“Just wait till I give you your gift Y/N.” He promised you as he snapped several pictures of you before he tugged his sleep tee off to wipe your face clean before the two of you were caught.