#BUT IT MAKES MY HEART SWELL IT MAKES THEM SO REAL

[fuzzyautumninmetal]

Orc!Roommate x ChubbyFem!Reader

I know I've been neglecting you all I'm sorry Life has just been shit for me at the moment.

But here's a lil something to keep you all going

"Why don't you like the way you look?" Your roommate, Nash, asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "In my eyes, you're perfect just the way you are."

You looked up at Nash, surprised by his question. It wasn't something you had expected him to notice, let alone comment on. For a moment, you considered brushing it off, making some flippant remark about not being able to please everyone. But there was something in Nash's expression, a genuine concern and curiosity, that made you hesitate. "It's not that I don't like the way I look," you admitted, your voice small and uncertain. "I just sometimes wish I was a bit thinner, y'know?" You shrugged as if it was nothing, a fleeting insecurity you weren't entirely comfortable voicing.

He frowned, his brow furrowing as he listened to your words. He couldn't fathom why anyone would want to change such a beautiful, alluring figure. To him, your curves were a work of art, each dip and swell a testament to the natural splendour of your form. "Why would you want to be thinner?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine bewilderment. "To me, your body is a work of art, a masterpiece crafted by the gods themselves. Every dip and swell, every soft curve and rounded plane, it all comes together to create a vision of pure, unadulterated splendour."

He leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Don't ever let anyone make you feel like you need to change who you are," he said softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

You felt your heart skip a beat as Nash leaned in closer, his words washing over you like a soothing balm. His touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers brushed against your cheek.

"Nobody makes me feel like I need to change the way I look," you chuckled slightly as you rose from the sofa. "It's just... When I was a child, I watched movies where the prince would scoop the princess up and walk towards the sunset," you explained, heading into the kitchen to retrieve a drink. Nash followed close behind, his large frame somehow fitting effortlessly in the small space. "I just wish I was thinner so I could be picked up like that, y'know. Live out every little girl's dream of being scooped up and carried away."

Nash followed you into the kitchen, his eyes never leaving your form. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he listened to your explanation. At your words, however, his expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing over his features. "Ah, I see," he murmured, nodding slowly. "But you know, those fairy tales are just stories. In real life, love comes in all shapes and sizes."

He stepped closer, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his thumb tracing slow circles over the curve of your waist. "And as for being picked up..." He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "I think we both know that's not a problem for someone of my strength."

Your breath hitched as Nash's hand came to rest on your hip, his touch igniting a fire within you. You could feel the heat of his body, the solid muscle beneath his skin, and it took all of your willpower not to lean into him, to press yourself against his strong form and lose yourself in his embrace. "That's real sweet of you," you half huffed, half laughed, the sound a little breathless. You knew Nash was only saying these things to cheer you up, to distract you from the anxieties that gnawed at you. "But I'm too heavy to be picked up. Always have been."

Nash's eyes darkened with lust at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Without warning, he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed them apart. "You underestimate me, little one," he purred, his voice a deep, seductive purr. "I am stronger than I look."

His lips crashed against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you, to possess you. One hand slid up your thigh, pushing aside your clothing to cup your breast, his calloused palm rasping against your sensitive flesh. He tore his mouth away from yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. "Let me show you what this big, strong orc can do."

With a swift tug, Nash ripped your shorts clean off your body, exposing your glistening folds to his hungry gaze. A feral grin spread across his face as he took in the sight of you, splayed out before him like a feast waiting to be devoured. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he growled, his fingers teasing your slick entrance. "So ready for me."

In one fluid motion, he hoisted you up, pinning you against the wall with his powerful body. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his muscular ass as you clung to him. Nash's thick, throbbing cock sprang free as he pulled his sweatpants down, the swollen head already glistening with pre-cum. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside your tight, dripping cunt, stretching you deliciously around his impressive girth.

"Oh, fuck yes," he groaned, his head falling back as your walls clenched around him. "You take me so well, baby. Like you were made for my cock." He began to move, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force, driving into you again and again. The wet sounds of your coupling filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of ecstasy.

Your nails dug into Nash's shoulders as he pounded into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breasts bounced with the force of his movements, the cool air of the kitchen contrasting deliciously with the heat of your skin. "Fuck!" you cried out, your head thrown back against the wall.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of passion as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. His tongue danced with yours, the taste of you mingling with the flavour of his own desire, creating a heady cocktail that left you dizzy with need. One hand reached between your bodies, his skilled fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub. The added stimulation sent you hurtling towards the edge, your inner muscles fluttering around his pistoning cock as your climax approached.

"I can feel you tightening," Nash panted against your lips, "Gonna come all over my fat orc cock, aren't you baby?"

"Yes! Yes! Fuck, don't stop!" you moaned wantonly, your hips bucking to meet his thrusts. The coil of tension in your lower belly wound tighter and tighter, your impending orgasm building to a crescendo. Nash's fingers on your clit, combined with the delicious stretch of his massive cock splitting you open, proved to be your undoing. With a keening cry, you shattered in his arms, your release crashing over you in wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy.

"Nash! Oh, gods, Nash!" you sobbed, your vision whiting out as your pussy spasmed almost violently around him.

As your orgasm washed over you, Nash held you close, his strong arms supporting your quivering form as he rode out the waves of your pleasure. He continued to thrust into you, prolonging your high until you were boneless and spent in his embrace. "There's my good girl," he purred, pressing tender kisses to your damp forehead. "Didn't I tell you? Nothing about you is too much for me to handle."

He carried you over to the kitchen table, gently laying you down on the smooth surface. With a wicked grin, he hooked your knees over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half as he loomed over you.

"And we're far from done, sweetheart," he promised, his voice a dark, sensual growl.

[deadbeatescape]

oh my god im going to cry they have a little laundry room they have a little arcade machine in their little laundry room where they all wash their lab coats and security uniforms im going to sob

[radio-4-is-static]

KATATOKI Teaser | Yojiro Noda x J.I.D Listen to WONDER BOY'S AKUMU CLUB here !!

[yandere-sins]

Imagine getting isekai’ed into otome game as a background character, watching the main character going down routes as you live your peaceful, mundane life, but you’ve unknowingly been going down a route as well, a route for a hidden character that you didn’t discover during your time playing the game.

That character being the reason the game has a dark content warning.

Gosh anon, that idea is so good!!!! I didn't know it would tickle all the right places in my brain, but when I started I couldn't stop lol. Love it, thank you for sending it in ♥

If this had one of these super long titles that are tmi it would be:

I got Isekai'ed into an Otome Game as a Background Character and now I Have to Finish It with the Secret Yandere Love Interest!!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

A serene smile spread over your lips as you watched the two lovebirds in the corner of your coffee shop.

Swirling the milk into a cup, it created a little white heart surrounded by foamy coffee, its aroma drifting into your nose. Had someone told you that the little things like a cup of coffee made with love and care were enough to give you the peace of mind you always wanted in your previous life, you would have laughed at them. For you, it had always been the hustle, the making money, finding a partner, and creating a family. Make everyone proud while being successful, whether it costs you nights of sleep or days without proper meals. But looking at yourself now, it all seemed so far away now, and you let out a content sigh before setting down the cup in front of the customer at the bar. 

"You seem happy today," your regular at the counter noted, picking up the cup and taking a moment to appreciate the aroma just like you had. A smile sneaked onto their lips, too, after they took a sip, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride and happiness when they gave you a satisfied nod. 

"I am! I'm really getting accustomed to my new life here, it's... been a while since I've been so content."

The truth behind everything that happened to you was something you couldn't speak about lightly. Not when it turned the life you knew upside down, leaving you to start over completely. One day you were an employee of a well-known company, responsible for sales and reports and everything stressful. And the next, you were in your favorite, cozy video game, running the coffee shop the main character liked to visit with all the romance options in the game.

Isekai was the genre that came to mind when you thought about your situation. Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, the circumstances blurry as you barely remembered going home late from work, only to wake up in this very different universe. Perhaps you were just comatose, and this was a dream. Still, by now, you had managed to slip into your role as the barista of the small coffee shop, a barely mentioned background character, just fine.

Your eyes jumped back to the couple in the corner, giggling and teasing each other over a group project, and you felt an immense relief you weren't reincarnated as the main protagonist and had to go through the years of studying and trying to establish connections with the love interests again. You already did that in your old life, and it wasn't as romantic and fun as the game made it out to be. You only played it because it got your mind off things, the art was pretty, and it had the exact amount of cozy time management you needed to relax. But living as the main character in it? No, thank you!

"Jealous?" your regular teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head. They tapped their—now empty—cup, and you took it from them, replacing it with some water until you had the next cup of coffee ready for them.

"I just think it's cute. I never had someone so interested in me they'd take me out for coffee and share their cake with me when I was younger."

Your words tasted a little bitter on your tongue. Still, you genuinely couldn't wish for anything but the main character's happiness. It was just the feeling of being loved, desired, and wanted that you missed, even though your new life was more than satisfactory despite you feeling a little lonely sometimes.

"Well, it's never too late to start," they chuckled, taking up their fork and cutting off the tip of their strawberry shortcake, including the big chunk of strawberry on top, picking it up and holding it out towards you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dare--"

"I insist! As thanks for the amazing coffee every time I come here."

Nudging your lips with their fork, you let out an awkward chuckle. It was okay, right? They wouldn't sue you for eating the cake they paid for, would they? This was just a silly little game. What could go wrong with you accepting their kindness?

Opening your lips, you let them feed you the cake, taking a moment to let the sweet and fruity notes mix with the fluffy whip cream before you were sent straight to heaven. Not to toot your own horn, but your baking skills had improved so much since you started working at the shop. Who knew you had that in you?

Occupied with the moment of bliss as you let the cake flavor mix in your mouth, you hummed happily before devoting yourself back to making the coffee with a smile on your face. Unaware of your regular fixating on the fork you had just eaten from, staring at it like it was some strange artifact. Your phone dinged softly in its drawer, and you checked it briefly to see the notification pinging up, saying, "Achievement unlocked: Cake-Master - Provide the most delicious cake to your customers."

"Excuse me!" the main character called out to you, stepping up to the counter, and you directed your attention to her, ignoring the little game notification you've been receiving since starting your new life here, the love interest not far away before the two began fighting over who was going to pay the bill this time lovingly. Of course, the love interest won, but you wouldn't have expected it any other way. Seeing the blush on the main character's face after her romance option told her he'd "always take care" of her made you grin like a little fan, and you cheered them on in your head. 

By the time you returned to your regular, their knuckles had gone white with how hard they were gripping the fork in their hand, their eyes following the couple who was about to leave. For a moment, it made you wonder if they had a crush on either of them, their sweet interaction surely uncomfortable if that was the case. But you didn't remember there being a jealousy scene in the game. You'd know, almost playing it 100% before your death. There apparently was a secret route you never got but were trying your hardest to achieve. Now you were left to wonder what it entailed.

But the second you returned, they looked up at you, expression softening and the tension disappearing, and you chalked it up to having witnessed a cringe moment that they had gotten so awkward. "Thank you for the cake, that was really nice of you! Do you want another fork?" you asked and were met with a headshake and a smile. 

They quickly began eating their cake and complimenting your baking skills, stroking your growing ego when they rubbed their belly. 

"I never had a cake that good!" they proclaimed, and you laughed out loud, overjoyed that you had made them so happy. 

"Say..." they suddenly spoke up again, leaning on the counter and watching you with gentle eyes. Your heart set out for a second, tension rising as you didn't know what they were going to ask. Ever since you opened the coffee shop, the main character, love interests, and this regular had come by constantly. If you were honest, you enjoyed their visits more and more. Their presence felt like it belonged here with you, and you were a part of something bigger after all, washing away the small, lonely part of you. 

And maybe... just maybe... this was how your happy end would play out.

"Are you this nice to every customer?"

Halting your movements, you set aside the brew head that you used on the espresso machine, despite having to clean it, thinking about your answer for a moment. It was a strange question to ask someone who worked in customer service. Still, you appreciated your regular, so you didn't want to give them a snarky answer.

"Uhm, well, I am just trying to make everyone feel welcome! But of course, it's a bit different with my regulars! After all, they come here often, like a second family. So I guess I'm a bit nicer because you really get to know and appreciate these people that stay to chat and tell stories."

"I see," they muttered. "Family, huh..."

After that, you suddenly were swamped with sudden orders, excusing yourself to fulfill them, chatting and laughing with even the people that were just passing by. Maybe you really were just nice? Perhaps this new environment had made you more relaxed and gentle than the harsh world you lived in, and it was showing? But their question was shoved into the back of your mind as you kept fulfilling orders and earning your keep.

Once the rush was over, you returned to your regular, only to find their seat empty. Strange, you thought. You could have sworn that you felt their eyes on you the whole time you were away, but luckily, they didn't walk out on their tab, leaving the money and a folded-up napkin beneath their empty cup for you to find. You quickly stored away the bills, trusting your regular with knowing what they had to pay after so many weeks of the same order.

You were about to throw away their napkin when you noticed some red marks on them, unwrapping the paper to find a note scribbled in what you had to assume was ink. 

"You're so beautiful when you laugh."

The surprise wore off quite fast, and you smiled, thinking nothing of it but that it was a nice compliment from your regular. Still, you ended up throwing the napkin away—not knowing if it was dirty, after all—taking the coffee cup and plate to the sink to clean them, overseeing the red tip on the fork that was too dark to be from the strawberry.

The rest of your day was uneventful, and by the time you were closing, you were tired and ready to tug in for the night, wrapping up your business at the shop quickly before walking home. You didn't have a chance to look at your phone since you glanced at the achievement notification, so you took it out, startled when you saw a dozen new messages. 

Achievement unlocked: Happy new life - Be content with your new life

Achievement unlocked: A fork for two! - Share a fork with someone special

Achievement unlocked: Jealousy - Make someone special jealous

Achievement unlocked: Soothing - Calm someone special down with your presence

Achievement unlocked: Family - Have someone be moved by your words

Achievement unlocked: The nicest person in town - Be beloved by all, but especially by someone special

Achievement unlocked: Blood in the cup - Have someone hurt themselves at your coffee shop

Achievement unlocked: Wonder-Barista - Complete twenty orders in less than thirty minutes

Achievement unlocked: Strange compliment - Receive a compliment through unusual means

Achievement unlocked: Blooming infatuation - Have someone special fall in love with you

Achievement unlocked: Shop-Pro! - Close the shop twenty times after making a profit from your work

Achievement unlocked: Tired - Hard workers deserve to relax

You blinked a few times, surprised by what you were reading and a little weirded out by some of these achievements. They gave you some extra coins in your shop till and reputation with the townspeople, so you usually didn't mind them. But to say some of their descriptions were weird was an understatement. You couldn't even remember someone getting hurt at your workplace that day.

By the time you reached your apartment, you decided to ignore the strange notifications and just let the day come to an end with a hot bath and your favorite show. But you were startled when your phone suddenly began ringing loudly, even though you had turned off the sound back at the coffee shop after the first notification. The first messages that appeared before you were more achievements, and you stopped turning the key in your door as you read them.

Achievement unlocked: Follower - Have someone special follow you home

Achievement unlocked: Welcome home! - Arrive at home, not alone

Achievement unlocked: Wherever you go, I'll be watching you - Ɨ ΔΜ ΔŁŴΔ¥Ş ŴΔŦĆĦƗŇǤ ¥ØỮ

Lifting your head, you looked around you, glancing over your shoulder and into the courtyard below. No one was out; everyone was at home eating dinner and occupied with their lives. Confused, you swiped all the notifications away before another pop-up appeared.

ALERT! You're about to enter X's route. Do you want to continue?

> Yes > No

Panicked at this point, you pressed "No," but nothing happened. You kept tapping it repeatedly, not understanding what was happening with your phone. But nothing changed, the notification staying in place. The sound of something breaking inside your apartment tore your focus away from your phone, startling you. 

You must have finally managed to close it, the pop-up disappearing just as you unlocked the door to your apartment, still having held on to the key when you were surprised by the sound. Darkness and silence greeted you from inside, everything seemingly normal.

Majorly confused, you shook your head, slowly entering the hallway leading inside. "Hello?" you called out, reaching for the light switch. The light flickered on, and... there was no one. Holding your breath, no sound reached your ears, and you groaned, realizing you got freaked out about... nothing. 

This wasn't some kind of horror game, and the story never had a murder-solving subplot. True, the ratings for it were kind of strange—it being rated as 18+ on the website—but seriously, what should happen in a cozy little city like the one the game played in? You didn't even think they had a police station here.

Pushing off your shoes as you shrugged off the weird feeling from before, you walked up the hallway to your living room, turning on the light before coming to an abrupt halt. There were broken pieces of glass underneath your living room window, but what really freaked you out came into view only when you lifted your head. You could look into the mirror of your cabinet door from your position, red marker dripping from it as if someone had hastily scribbled on it just seconds ago. You weren't sure it was a pen anymore, judging by its deep red color and the fluidity of it.

"𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺"

Your phone pinged.

Achievement unlocked: 

On the Highway to Hell - Unlock the secret route

[pucksandpower]

Thawed

Kimi Räikkönen x sunshine!Reader

Summary: the many times throughout the years that only the warmth of his wife could thaw the Iceman

“He’s just so … cold,” your aunt comments, wrinkling her nose at Kimi’s back as he heads to the bar. It’s the first time you’ve brought him to a family event.

You bristle, prepared to defend your new boyfriend. “He’s not cold once you get to know him. He’s just a private person.”

Your aunt sniffs. “Still, he barely said two words all night. And that nickname — the Iceman! I don’t like it.”

You straighten your spine. “Well I do. His thoughtfulness and loyalty outweigh any lack of words.”

As you speak, you feel your doubts about mismatched personalities fade. Opposites attract for a reason.

Your aunt looks unconvinced, but you pay her no mind. You’re falling for the quiet Finn with a heart of gold. And you won’t let anyone’s disapproval chill that flame.

When Kimi returns, you lean up and kiss his cheek fondly. He looks pleasantly surprised. Let them judge. You see the real man inside.

***

“Smash it! Smash it!” The rowdy groomsman chants as you and Kimi cut into your wedding cake.

Other guests take up the chant, clamoring for Kimi to shove cake in your face per tradition. But you had quietly asked him not to — you don’t want frosting up your nose and ruining your makeup on your wedding day.

Kimi’s eyes meet yours, a silent question. You give a slight shake of your head. His expression hardens with resolve.

In one smooth motion, he whirls and smashes the slice of cake directly into the rowdy groomsman’s face. Icing splatters everywhere. The room goes silent.

“Here you go, since you seem to want the cake smashed so bad,” Kimi says coldly.

The groomsman splutters in shock. You have to hide your smile behind your hand.

Kimi winks at you as he licks icing off his fingers. “Now, where were we?”

Heart swelling, you lean in to kiss your wonderful, cake-covered husband. No one gets in the way of your wishes on your wedding day.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you make your way through the crowds, weaving between mechanics and engineers going about their race day routines. The smells of rubber and gasoline hang thick in the air. You smile and nod at familiar faces, receiving knowing looks in return.

Everyone here knows who you are — the bubbly, outgoing wife of the Iceman himself. The unlikely pairing has been the talk of Formula 1 ever since you started dating a few years ago. You’re warm and chatty. He’s cool and laconic. But somehow, it works.

You find Kimi in the Ferrari motorhome, sipping an energy drink, game face on. His brows are furrowed in concentration, icy grey eyes focused straight ahead. You know not to disturb him right now. This is business time.

Slipping into the seat beside him, you pull out your phone and scroll aimlessly, letting the comfortable silence stretch between you. The hustle and noise of the paddock fades into the background.

Finally, Kimi drains the last drops from his can and crushes it in his hand. He turns to you, the stern expression melting away. His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth tick upward ever so slightly.

“Morning,” he says quietly, voice gravelly.

You beam at him. “Good morning, love. Ready to go racing today?”

He nods, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did, thanks to my very comfy race driver pillow.” You wink.

Kimi snorts, the creases around his eyes deepening. He leans in and presses a quick kiss to your temple.

Around you, mechanics and team members try and fail to pretend they aren’t glancing your way, still not used to seeing the Iceman so openly affectionate. But Kimi doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“I’ll see you after,” he says, standing up and giving your hand a squeeze. His face settles back into cool concentration as he strides out to prepare for the race.

You settle in to watch qualifying, heart swelling with pride and love for your Finnish fireball.

***

“Kimi, the stewards want to speak with you about the incident with Perez on lap 37.”

Kimi’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “Typical,” he mutters.

You touch his arm reassuringly. “Go on, I’ll wait here for you.”

He nods, striding off to the steward’s office, race suit half unzipped and hair disheveled. You know he’ll be lucky to escape without a penalty. Kimi has never been one to mince words or hide his displeasure with other drivers. You can only imagine the icy staredown happening behind those closed doors right now.

Twenty minutes later, he emerges looking ready to smash a table. You jump up and hurry over.

“Well? What did they say?”

Kimi’s scowl deepens, if that’s even possible. “Ten second penalty. Ridiculous.” He spits out something in Finnish you’re glad you don’t understand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You drove brilliantly today.”

He shakes his head and stalks down the hall towards the paddock. You scurry after him, nearly jogging to match his long angry strides.

“Forget it. Not your fault the stewards are blind.”

You slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together. Immediately you feel some of the tension leave his body. He glances down at you, the hint of a smile breaking through the thunderclouds.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say gently. “I’ll make you your favorite dinner, open a nice bottle of wine ...”

He nods, expression softening. “Okay. Sounds good.”

You smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze. The stormy Finn may have a heart of ice on the track, but you know better. He just needs a little sunshine sometimes.

***

You pause in the kitchen doorway, heart melting at the scene before you. Kimi sits on the living room floor, your baby niece perched happily in his lap. He bounces her gently on his knee as she squeals with delight, the hint of a smile on his usually stoic face.

“Faster Unca Kimi, faster!” She cries, unruly curls flying.

He chuckles and picks up the pace, eliciting delighted giggles from her. Your sister watches nearby, still looking a bit bemused at seeing the Iceman so good natured and playful.

Finally Kimi stops, feigning exhaustion. “Whew, that’s enough for Uncle Kimi,” he says, lifting her up and pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “You’re too fast!”

She dissolves into giggles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck in a hug. He hugs her back, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. Your heart feels fit to burst.

“Who wants ice cream?” You announce, carrying in two bowls.

“Me, me!” Your niece starts to squirm in Kimi’s lap, reaching eagerly for her treat.

He stands, swinging her up easily onto his shoulders. “Let’s go have ice cream on the porch, give your mama a break,” he says. She kicks her little legs gleefully.

Your sister shoots you a grateful smile as Kimi carries her outside. You grin and wink. Who would believe it — the Iceman, a big softie for kids. But you know better. Under that cool exterior beats a heart of gold.

***

The crowds pressing around the circuit are suffocating today. Fans shove programs and merch at you for Kimi to sign. One overzealous teenage boy tries to wrap you in an uninvited hug.

Suddenly Kimi is there, gently but firmly detaching the boy’s hands from your arms. His face is thunderous.

“Back. Off.” The boy stumbles away wide-eyed.

Kimi keeps a protective grip on your shoulder as he marches you briskly from the paddock. Once inside the privacy of the motorhome, he cups your face in his hands.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His tone is urgent.

You shake your head, still a bit shaken. “Just got grabby. Thank you for the rescue.”

Kimi exhales, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t like you getting swarmed out there.”

You smile wryly. “Hazards of being Mrs. Iceman.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek. “I just want to keep you safe. Those crowds make me nervous.”

You kiss him softly. “I’ll be okay.”

His eyes bore into yours, icy blue melting into tenderness. “Still. Stay close to me out there from now on. So I can protect what’s most precious.”

Your heart flutters under his intent gaze. You lace your fingers through his, feeling infinitely cherished.

“Always.”

***

“Kimi, your phone is ringing again,” you call from the couch.

He doesn’t respond, gaze fixed intently on the TV as he navigates a difficult turn in his racing video game. The phone buzzes angrily on the coffee table.

With a sigh, you reach for it. The caller ID says “Bane of My Existence.” You frown. That’s the third call from her this week that he’s ignored.

“Kimi ...”

“Hmm?” He pauses the game and glances at you, eyebrows raised.

You hold up the phone. “It’s your PR officer again. Don’t you think you should answer and see what she wants?”

His expression clouds over. “No. Told her not to call me anymore.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” You keep your tone light and curious.

He shrugs. “Kept trying to get me to do stuff. Go to parties and all that.”

You bite back a smile, warmth flooding your chest. Your shy homebody of a husband, sought after on the celebrity circuit but wanting none of it.

“Well, I’m glad she hasn’t lured you away yet,” you tease gently.

The corners of his mouth quirk up as he takes the phone from you and sets it aside before pulling you into his lap.

“Don’t worry,” he rumbles, nudging your nose with his. “You’re the only party I need.”

You kiss him softly, heart overflowing. The glitz and glam means nothing to your Kimi. Home is where his heart is.

***

You awake to whispered voices and the smell of something burning. Bleary-eyed, you shuffle to the kitchen doorway.

Kimi stands at the stove, hair endearingly mussed from sleep. He’s scowling down at a frying pan, clutching a spatula like a weapon. Your brother leans against the counter, trying and failing to stifle laughter.

“What’s going on?” You ask through a yawn.

Kimi’s scowl deepens. “Trying to make you breakfast. Not going well.” He prods the blackened lump in the pan disdainfully.

Your brother snorts. “He nearly set off the fire alarm. I got here just in time.”

“I told you I don’t cook,” Kimi mutters, avoiding your gaze.

You pad over and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s the thought that counts. Thank you, love.”

He relaxes back into your embrace. Your brother mimes gagging behind his back. You stick out your tongue at him.

“Here, I’ll show you,” you say, gently prying the spatula from Kimi’s hand. “Just go slow ...”

Soon, the three of you are gathered around the table, eating the pancakes you made together. Kimi’s are a bit misshapen, but edible.

He looks inordinately pleased as you sample his. “Good?”

You beam at him and squeeze his hand. “The very best.”

His rare unguarded smile warms you more deeply than any breakfast ever could.

***

You awaken to the dipping of the mattress as Kimi slips under the covers. The red glow of his bedside clock reads 3:48 AM.

“Everything okay?” You murmur, rolling over to face him.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest. You feel the steady thump of his heart under your palm.

“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” His voice rumbles low near your ear.

You nuzzle into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin. “Worrying about the race this weekend?”

He exhales, his breath stirring your hair. “No. Just thinking.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, you lift your head to study his face in the dimness. His eyes shine in the faint light, gazing at you with an intensity that makes your own heart skip.

“What is it?” You whisper.

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his callused fingers infinitely tender. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here. That you’re mine.”

Emotion swells in your chest, words escaping you. You cup his stubbled face and guide his lips down to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

When you finally draw apart, he pulls you close again, tucking your head under his chin. No more words are needed. You understand each other perfectly in the quiet spaces between heartbeats. Soon his breathing evens out in sleep, and you follow him down, still nestled safe in the circle of his arms.

***

You’re just drizzling the last of the chocolate over the molten lava cakes when you hear Kimi’s keys in the front door. A smile spreads across your face. Perfect timing.

He wanders in a few moments later, hair adorably rumpled, eyes lighting up when he sees you.

“Mmm, something smells good,” he says, crossing the kitchen to wrap you in a hug.

You kiss his scratchy cheek. “Made your favorite for dessert. Now go get cleaned up while I finish.”

He squeezes you tighter, stubble tickling your neck as he nuzzles into it. “Can’t I have you for dessert instead?”

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Go on, you. Plenty of time for that later.”

He steals one more kiss before sauntering off, a grin playing about his lips. You shake your head, unable to stop smiling. After all these years, he still makes your heart race as if you’re teenagers again.

When he returns, you’ve set out the seared salmon, roasted vegetables, and the two perfect chocolate lava cakes. His eyes light up.

“Have I told you lately that you’re the best wife ever?” He asks, pulling out your chair.

“Hmm, I think you could stand to mention it more,” you tease.

He takes your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes pierce yours. “You’re the best wife ever,” he says solemnly.

You lean in and kiss him, happiness bubbling up inside you. However many times he says it, you’ll never get tired of hearing it.

***

“So, what’s it like being married to the grumpiest driver on the grid?” The reporter shoves a microphone in your face, invasive and smug.

You recoil, blindsided. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, he’s not exactly Mr. Personality.” The reporter leans closer. “Does the Iceman thaw out at home or just freeze you out?”

Humiliation burns through you. Before you can respond, Kimi is there, gently moving you aside. His eyes are blazing.

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that,” he growls at the reporter. “You know nothing about our life.”

The reporter withers under Kimi’s icy glare. You feel a rush of gratitude for your protective husband.

Kimi turns to you, face softening. “Let’s get out of here.”

Once you’re alone, he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Sorry you had to deal with that. He had no right to badger you about our marriage.”

You lean into him, safe in the circle of his arms. “It’s okay. You came to my rescue like a knight in shining racing gear.”

He snorts. “Hardly a knight. But for you, always.” He kisses you tenderly.

No matter what the media says, your life together is not theirs to define. Your love writes its own quiet story each day.

***

You awake in the dark to a loud crash from downstairs. Heart pounding, you shake Kimi’s shoulder.

“Kimi, wake up! I think someone’s broken in.”

He’s up in an instant, alert and poised to strike. You hear footsteps creeping up the stairs. Kimi pushes you behind him and grabs the baseball bat by the bed.

The footsteps reach the landing and a shadowy figure appears in the doorway. Kimi flicks on the light, bat raised menacingly. You both freeze.

It’s Sebastian Vettel, eyes wide, hands raised in surrender. “Whoa whoa, it’s just me!”

Kimi’s shoulders slump as he lowers the bat. “Seb? What the hell are you doing here?”

Seb runs a hand through his messy hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in town and my rental car broke down outside. I was hoping I could crash here tonight.”

Kimi sighs, shaking his head. “You couldn’t call first?”

Seb grins sheepishly. “Forgot to charge my phone.”

You step out from behind Kimi, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, love. Let’s get some fresh sheets for the guest room.” You turn to Seb. “We’ll figure out your car in the morning.”

Seb’s shoulders sag in relief. “Thanks, I really owe you guys.”

As you make up the bed, you share an amused look with Kimi. Only Seb could turn up unannounced in the middle of the night and get away with it. But then again, that’s why you love him.

***

You’re waiting at the finish line, heart in your throat as the cars scream past for the final lap. Kimi is battling for a podium finish, but has fallen back after a poorly timed pit stop. He’s gaining ground fast, but is he out of time?

The crowd roars as the frontrunners cross the line. P2 … P3 … waiting for P4. Come on, Kimi.

Then you see it, the red and white Alfa Romeo flashing past the checkered flag, narrowly clinching third. You leap in the air, cheering loudly. Kimi did it!

You rush down towards the pits, arriving just as Kimi climbs from his car. His race suit is drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, but his eyes are bright. When he spots you, a grin breaks across his face.

You throw your arms around him, heedless of how sweaty he is. “You were amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

He lifts you off your feet in a bear hug, laughing breathlessly in your ear. The sound sends joy bursting through your veins.

As he sets you down, you cradle his stubbled face in your hands. “I love you,” you say fiercely.

His grin softens to something more tender. He tilts his forehead against yours, heedless of the crowds milling nearby.

“Love you too,” he murmurs.

The cameras flash around you, eager to capture this rare unguarded moment. But Kimi only has eyes for you. Third place has never felt so golden.

***

“Ugh, your wife is so annoyingly positive all the time. It’s nauseating,” the other driver’s girlfriend gripes to Kimi at a race afterparty.

You freeze mid-laugh, stung by her disdainful tone. Kimi’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“I would rather have a positive wife than a miserable cow like you,” he says coldly. “Come on, let’s go.”

He takes your arm and steers you firmly away. You blink back tears, embarrassed.

“Hey,” Kimi says softly, tilting your chin up. “Don’t listen to her. I love how positive you are. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for spreading joy.”

You give a watery chuckle. “Really? You don’t find it annoying?”

“Are you kidding? Your light balances out my darkness perfectly.” He punctuates this with a swift kiss. “You keep me from being a constant grump.”

You laugh and swat his chest. “Impossible. No one can tame the Iceman’s grumpiness.”

He smiles tenderly and pulls you close. “You do. Don’t change for anyone else.”

***

You pace the bathroom floor, heart racing. The little white stick sits innocently on the counter, but its result will change everything. One blue line for negative, two for positive.

Three minutes have never felt so long.

When the timer finally beeps, you take a deep breath and turn it over with a shaky hand. Two blue lines stare back at you.

Positive.

Emotions swell within you — joy, nervousness, excitement. You and Kimi have been trying for a baby, but it still feels so surreal now that it’s actually happening.

You hear the front door open and Kimi call out your name. It’s time. Clutching the test behind your back, you go to him.

He must read something in your face, because his brows furrow in concern. “Everything okay?”

Your face splits into a teary grin. “Everything’s perfect.” You bring the test out from behind you and hold it up wordlessly.

Kimi’s eyes widen. For once, the unflappable Finn seems utterly flapped. “You … we ...” He stares at the two little lines, then back at you. “We’re having a baby?”

You nod, vision blurring with happy tears. With a joyful shout, Kimi sweeps you up in his arms and spins you around. His excitement is boyish and uncontained.

When he sets you down, he cradles your face in both hands. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispers in awe.

You put your hand over his, overjoyed tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re going to be the best father.”

***

You fidget impatiently on the exam table, Kimi’s hand clutched in yours. After months of waiting, today is your first ultrasound. If all looks well, you’ll get to see your baby for the very first time.

“What’s taking so long?” You huff. Kimi smiles and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Relax, they’ll be here soon.” His calm steadies you, as it always does.

Finally the technician arrives and asks you to lift up your shirt. She squeezes cool gel over your swelling belly and begins moving the ultrasound wand through it.

The screen comes to life, showing grainy black and white images you can’t decipher. The technician frowns, adjusting some dials. Your heart leaps into your throat.

Sensing your distress, Kimi gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Just be patient,” he murmurs.

After a few tense moments, the technician’s face clears. She turns the screen towards you with a smile. “There we are. There’s your baby.”

You gaze in wonder at the little shape filling the screen, tiny arms and legs visibly squirming. Your vision blurs with tears. That’s your child, your little miracle.

Beside you Kimi is utterly transfixed, eyes shining. “That’s our baby,” he whispers reverently.

He lifts your intertwined hands and presses his lips to your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says, voice husky with emotion. “For this gift.”

You have no words. You simply lean into him, his solid warmth anchoring you as joy washes over you both.

***

You stare glumly at your reflection in the mirror. At eight months pregnant, you feel like a beluga whale. Your ankles are swollen, your back aches constantly, and none of your clothes fit over your enormous bump anymore.

Voices sound from downstairs as Kimi arrives home. You feel tears prick your eyes. You don’t want him to see you like this, a beached whale in sweatpants.

Sniffling, you ease onto the bed and bury your face in a pillow. Kimi finds you there a few minutes later. The mattress dips as he sits down and rubs your back.

“What’s wrong, love?”

You shake your head, embarrassed. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Gently he turns you over, brushing the hair from your damp cheeks. “Talk to me,” he says softly.

A sob escapes you. “I’m hideous like this! I’ve gotten so huge. You must be disgusted looking at me.”

Kimi’s brow furrows. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his earnest gaze. “Is that what you think? That I find you disgusting?”

Ashamed, you drop your eyes, fresh tears spilling over.

“Look at me,” he says gently. You do. His ice blue eyes pierce yours. “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now, carrying our child.”

He places a reverent hand on your belly. “You are giving us the most precious gift in the world. How could I not find you beautiful?”

His words pierce your heart. You cover his hand with yours. “I love you,” you whisper.

He gathers you close, dropping feather-light kisses over your face. “And I love you. Always.”

You cling to him, feeling foolish and so very loved.

***

A contraction rips through you, more intense than any before. You cry out, squeezing Kimi’s hand desperately.

“Breathe, love, breathe,” he coaches, face taut.

You gasp air into your lungs as the vice grip on your insides finally releases. Kimi dabs the sweat from your brow with a cool cloth.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “Our little one will be here soon.”

Even through the haze of pain, his voice anchors you. Your Kimi, always steady as a rock.

Too soon, another contraction wrings a ragged shout from you. Kimi never leaves your side, letting you nearly crush his hand as you ride out the agony.

“I can’t … I can’t do this ...” you sob.

Kimi presses his lips to your temple. “You can. You’re the strongest person I know. I’m right here with you.”

His faith buoys you, even as your body is wracked with wave after wave of excruciating spasms. Your world narrows to the circle of his arms.

Then finally, miraculously, comes the thin, piercing cry of your child. Your exhausted tears mingle with joyful laughter.

Kimi cuts the cord with shaky hands, eyes shining brighter than you’ve ever seen. When they lay the squalling, pink bundle on your chest, the universe crystallizes to this one perfect point.

Your family, whole at last.

***

You awake in the small hours before dawn, reaching across the cool sheets only to find Kimi’s side of the bed empty. Padding down the hallway on silent feet, you peer into the nursery.

Your breath catches in your throat. Kimi stands over the crib, your tiny daughter cradled against his chest. One large hand gently supports her downy head.

He’s speaking softly to her in Finnish, too low for you to understand. But the love shining through his voice brings tears to your eyes. Your tough, taciturn Finn transformed into a doting father.

As he lays her tenderly back in the crib, you hear him murmur in a whisper, “Don’t worry little one, your isä will always protect you. I promise you that.”

He tucks the blanket snugly around her and brushes a feather-light kiss over her forehead. The tenderness of it makes your heart ache.

You slip silently back to bed before he notices you, not wanting to intrude on this private moment between father and daughter. But the image stays seared in your mind.

When Kimi joins you a few minutes later, you turn and press your face into his chest so he won’t see your tears of joy. His arms come around you reflexively.

“You okay?” He rumbles.

You nod, a lump in your throat. Your family is so very blessed.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you push your daughter’s stroller through the chaotic maze of the paddock. She’s only six months old, wide-eyed at all the commotion.

Mechanics pause to coo over her, their grease-smudged fingers surprisingly gentle. PR people stop to fuss and take photos. Word has spread — the Iceman’s baby girl is here.

Kimi strides over, stooping to drop a kiss on your head and tickle his daughter’s tummy. His race suit is on, grey eyes intense and focused.

“Sure you don’t want me to take her while you concentrate?” You ask.

He shakes his head, a corner of his mouth quirked up. “I need to see my two favorite girls before I drive.”

Your heart melts. Kimi scoops her up, and she clutches at his nose and gurgles. Nearby, you hear shutters clicking madly. The Iceman undone by a baby — it’ll be all over the press tonight.

But Kimi only has eyes for his daughter, face soft in a way it never is before a race. With a deep breath, he cuddles her close and murmurs something in Finnish before handing her back to you.

You kiss his cheek. “Go show them how it’s done, Daddy.”

He winks and strides off towards the pit lane, determination in his stride. Your daughter waves a chubby fist as he disappears from view.

No matter how many races he wins, now his best trophy waits for him at the finish line. His family.

***

“Must be lonely married to a man called the Iceman,” the reporter says slyly. “He’s not known for being warm and affectionate.”

Anger flashes through you. How dare this stranger imply your marriage is lacking.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” you reply sharply. “Kimi is very attentive and loving in private.”

The reporter raises her eyebrows. “But his public image ...”

You cut her off. “That’s all it is — an image. Kimi deserves more respect than tired old stereotypes.”

Your voice softens as you glance to where Kimi is chatting with fans, his body angled protectively towards you.

“There is no one kinder or more loyal than my husband. He cherishes our family greatly, he just doesn’t flaunt it to the world.”

The reporter looks taken aback by your fervent defense. You almost feel sorry for her. She’ll never truly know the man behind the Iceman legend. But you do and you won’t tolerate anyone maligning him.

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor gets that DILF energy. He’s doing whatever with his kid, holding the baby and just chilling when suddenly reader pounces on him because she finds it so attractive. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but his wife suddenly being… excited isn’t always fun and he won’t say no

YOO-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, ALASTOR GETTING LAID, ALASTOR BEING PUSHED TO HIS LIMIT, Wife is H O R N Y

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor has taken to fatherhood more easily than even he had expected, loving and protecting his little family with an intense fierceness

He loves watching his wife tend to their babies, something about it making his chest swell with happiness and pride

He didn't consider that watching him act paternal would do things to his beloved wife

The first time it happens, he doesn't see the correlation at all, just assuming his wife had been feeling pent up

He was putting his children down for bed, arguing with his adorably mouthy little girl while giving her brother his favorite plushie(he needs it to sleep)

"Now I know you're upset with this arrangement, little one, but you and your brother must get some shut eye."

She's visibly displeased, rubbing her eye as she fights off sleep, leaning on his shoulder as she pouts

Alastor sees you watching him in the doorway, a fond smile on your face as you watch him try to convince your daughter to sleep

What he doesn't see is the small flush on your face, the way your eyes follow his arms as he lays the baby down or the way you swallow as he kisses both his children goodnight

Seeing him so caring and gentle and soft is just-doing things to you

Alastor isn't sure WHAT is happening when as soon as the door closes behind him, you're pulling him into the bedroom by his collar

"My dear, what-mmf!"

Later, when he's laying in bed naked, staring up at the ceiling while you doze on his chest, he'll wonder what got into you

Not that he minded, it was just unexpected

The second time it happens?? Alastor has an inkling of what might be setting you off but doesn't know for sure

His son had tripped and fallen, crying his little eyes out, the impact probably having scared him more than any real pain

But Alastor hates seeing his baby boy cry, so he picked him up and gently examined his son's hands, blowing on the little scratches there before kissing them

"There~ Papa made it all better, see?"

The boy simply sniffled and wrapped his little arms around Alastor's neck, seeking the comfort of his father

And Alastor couldn't deny the way his heart swelled, rubbing his son's back as he rocked and soothed the baby

Not even two minutes after he had put down his son, who was suddenly enamored with Vaggie and following her, did Alastor feel a menacing aura

All he felt was his wife's hand on his shoulder before he was suddenly being dragged up the stairs

He barely has time to register your lips on his neck and hands wandering under his clothes before you're cooing at him to touch you

Ah well...how can he say no to such a generous request?

Husk doesn't say anything when a disheveled Alastor stumbles out of the room hours later and drinks everything in sight before going back

Just keep playing with the babies, Husk...just keep playing with the babies...

Alastor starts to legitimately worry that you'll get pregnant again at this point...so soon after the last time...

Alastor is ready for it the third time, having decided to test out his theory and see if he's right

So he's deliberate in playing with his children in front of you, watching your reaction out of the corner of his eye

You're sitting and reading, not even looking up at them...

The twins are currently hiding from him, their little ears poking out from behind the couch as they giggle and try to keep quiet

Alastor is slow and purposeful as he stalks around the couch, brushing a hand against the back of your neck as he passes by

"Now where could my little fawns be hiding, hm~? Surely not...over...HERE~!"

They scream and scramble to run away from their father, only to be scooped up by his strong arms and held close

Now you're glancing over your book at them, your eyes zeroing in on your husband

He's kissing and nuzzling the twins, their little hands pushing his face away as they squirm, unaware of how futile it is

Alastor looks so smug when you put your book down and start to really take an interest in what he's doing

He gives piggyback rides, tosses and catches them, chases them and everything else he can think of

All while being painfully aware of your heated gaze on him

And if he was purposefully teasing you and drawing out a little extra time with his kids... who was gonna know?

So he isn't surprised when Charlie and Vaggie are being put in charge of baby duty, and Alastor is being lead upstairs

He's ready for it when the door locks behind him and you're guiding his hands over your body

He's about ready to tap out when you roll over on top of him, straddling his lap and encouraging him to go again

"Darling...are you sure you're not in heat or something?"

You laugh at him and it's the scariest yet sexiest thing he's ever heard, his manhood curious but confused by his emotions

"Don't tell me your well has gone dry, darling~ Charlie said she'd watch the kids for us all night~"

He wakes up the next day feeling like he got hit by truck, his throat is parched and he has dried sweat on him-

He hears the bedroom door open, and his wife looks so innocent and happy, not at all like the bedroom monster he keeps meeting

You come up and kiss his forehead, sitting down next to him before handing him a glass of water

"Good morning, darling~ Our babies are waiting to see you so hurry up and get out of bed~"

He watches you walk out of the room, a small part of him proud of the slight wobble in your step but a larger part of him scared for his life

He never thought he would go out like this-

Worth it though 👌

HERE! TAKE IT BEFORE MY FACE MELTS FROM BLUSHING

[dcxdpdabbles]

For your adoptive son au all I can think about is the media storm that’s about to destroy these two 😭

Like when the news comes out everyone’s gonna bash Danny, saying things like “always knew he was shady” or “figures, rich people are all bad” and then praising Dick for going undercover and revealing the monster

And then BAM the accusations are false! All the kids that were on his file of “trafficked” kids all came to testify in Danny’s defense!

Then because the media needs someone to hate all eyes turn to Dick. Because “these are serious accusations he’s practically ruined Danny’s career!”

Tbh when all the court stuff is done I totally imagine Danny severing any and all ties to Wayne company, not because he’s petty but because it genuinely hurts to be connected to a company that belongs to his exes family

Like this is gonna destroy Danny and Dick but the media is gonna make it so much worse for them

The batfam is gonna kick themselves for honestly not digging a little deeper and interviewing a few of the kids on file before straight up turning him in, they probably think they ruined Danny’s life with these accusations

Danny probably doesn’t care that much about the company at this point, he’s just sad that the man he thought he was having a genuine relationship with turned out to be a fake and probably never loved him at all 💔

Despite the pain, Dick keeps an eye on the news, waiting for the announcement of Crowne's arrest to be announced. He went back to bed after taking some photos of the journals. He laid next to the man one that was profiting off of children.

He stared at the ceiling, feeling a sick sort of numb. Unwillingly he thought back to all the times he had had the stray thought that Crowne wasn't evil.

That the bats had it wrong. How could a man as kind and dear as he does something so horrid? Dick had allowed himself to be relived with each failed month of searching for evdidnce.

He can admit it now. He had prayed that Crowne was innocent and had conducted his investigation not nearly as through as he should have.

He had.

Crowne even keeps a record of who and where the children were sold to. The man he fallen in love with was bookkeeping his crimes as easily as he did for his company.

The following day, Crowne- he had been Danny only a few hours ago.- had made him breakfast. The same way his mother used to make for Dick, admitting with a blush that he contacted Harley Cirius to ask for the recipe.

He made his heart swell and then break in the same bite. Dick played his role through the breakfast. His face felt like plastic, the smile he sent Crowne slimly, and he all but ran out of that house.

The house that, in another life, they would have likely raise a family in.

Don't think about it. Dick hissed at himself, tears filling his eyes as he drove away. Bruce had edited out the evidence and would break in while Crowne was working to capture the record books. They would meet in Commissioner Gordon's office, where Dick would turn in his lover. Not my lover. It was never real.

If he tells himself that, maybe he will believe it.

The commissioner had been grim faced as Dick broke down in his office, speaking through wrenched sobs and broken words of the journals he had found. He didn't even need to pretend to be a sobbing mess.

Dick doesn't think he's felt this terrible in a long time. It felt worse than when he and Bruce had their fights. At least then he could also feel anger. Now, he only feels pain, grief, betyal and shattered hope. Bruce- playing the part of a worried father- rubbed his back and anchored him through the moment.

The story they went with was that a few weeks ago, Dick started to suspect that Crowne was cheating on him. After learning about his work schedule, he noticed his boyfriend was always busy with non-work business.

He brought it up with Crowne, but the other man would often dance around the subject. After a while of this, Dick had been unable to help snoop around, where he stumbled across the journals.

At first, he assumed the books were for the many children-based charities that Crowne ran and didn't think they were too important. He continues to date Crowne after not finding any cheating evidence. But Dick could not help about those strange journals or Crowne's cagey behavior about his wearabouts.

Dick had searched the children's names, only to find them all matching missing children notices. He realized what Crowne was doing and had gone straight to Bruce, freaking out.

Bruce had taken them to Gordon since the man was such a close family friend, and they were worried what Crowne would do to Dick if he learned what Dick had discovered.

Gordon had assured them that they would remain anonymous until the trial,getting the warrants and taking the necessary steps to arrest Crowne. Feeling numb, Dick had been taken back to the Wayne Manor.

Bruce fretted around him, unsure what to do with his son, who had obviously fallen for a monster. Jason and Damian tried in their own way too help too, but Dick could not feel up to any of it.

He climbs into his room, muffling his sobs into his pillow, feeling sick and wrong to his stomach. He tossed and turneduntil Crowne's voice whispered I think I love you, Dick and he as if his world was ending.

A few seconds later, he's racing into the bathroom, hurling the breakfast Crowne had made him. It swirled around in the toilet as Dick gagged and gasped, mourning what he had lost for this mission.

The sweet kind man he fell in love with was dead to him.

"The worst part," Dick thinks he confessed to Bruce between tears and throwing up. His father had come racing when Jason reported the noises coming from Dick's bathroom. "Is that I was the one who killed him."

It's been three days.

He had texted Crowne lying about going on a trip and barely responded to the messages he received in return. He hadn't gone out on patrol in days and had barely ventured out of his room.

Sleep evaded because all he dreamed about was Crowne's sweet smiles, gentle hugs, and laughing eyes. His nightmares were filled with Crowne's smug smirk, surrounded by screaming children in cages. The worst nights were when Crowne would kiss him, pushing him against the cages as children cling to Dick's legs screaming and crying in haunting tones. why? why? why? Why do you love him? Look what he's done to us! Why!? Save us!

Dick woke with his own scream trapped in his throat and his arms reaching for a man who he shouldn't want anymore.

Now he, in the present, he sat before his tv watching the News. The lights were all off, the curtains drawn tightly closed. His family worried about him, but they all agree to watch the moment by himself, if only to spare his diginty.

Gordon had sent the message that the warrents were approve and proof had been dropped off by Batman after bringing it to the hero's attention.

They would be arresting Crowne.

Dick would watch it live. See with his own eyes, and his own ears what his lies had exposed.

"Breaking news," The anchor suddenly says, staring intently into the camera. Besides her, a small window shows the familiar front entrance of Crowne's company offices. Dick clenches his fist into the blankets he has wrapped around himself. "Danny Crowne, Owner, CEO and head developer for his family company, Crowne Co. has just been arrested on accusations of human trafficking. We go live to Crowne Co Admin bulding"

The window expands to the entire screen, and Dick feels his stomach turn into horrific mini-whirl pools as various camera crew scramble for a clear view. There is a crowd of unhappy citizens being held back by the police.

Someone had leaked what crimes Crowne had done. The news had spread fast enough that he was deeply hated by the people who had once cheered onhis name.

Crowne is led out in handcuffs by two scowling police officers. His suit is rumpled, and three large bruises are forming on his face- probably due to Officer Black, whose sister was sold to human traffickers when he was a kid-but it means nothing to his expression of devastation.

He looks to be in shock, staring down at his bound hands with dead seat eyes as if he was unsure of what he was seeing. The crowd starts screaming the moment they catch sight of him. Loud curses and swears are all aimed at the man who stumbles his way into the police car.

The doors of Crowne headquarters burst open by a screaming child. Timothy Drake is held back by officers as he desperately screams for his older brother. He starts fighting with all his tiny might as a woman from CPS drags him away.

The reporting journalist for the News outlet doesn't stop speaking as Crowne is led away, looking to be sobbing into his hands as the Police drive away. Drake is thrown into another car, banging on the windows and screaming so much his voice is raw.

The two would likely never see each other again.

Dick's vision blurs with more tears.

He wishes this would have made him angry. He's good with anger. He knows his rage. This grief is consumingly painful.

She outlines the accusations against Crowne, explaining that Gotham's finest had gotten a tip from an unknown source about the possible missing children. Dick slumps into his bed ice racing down his arms and legs, leaving each limb in pins and needles.

He can't stop picturing Crowne's form hunched over in tears, glowing in those red and blue lights.

"There is a gag order on the investigation, " the woman says, mic close to her face and looking grim. "We will keep the people updated with any new information released as we wait for Crowne's trail. Back to you Susan."

The screen flashes back to the old news member, who makes one single comment of disgust for Crowne before moving on to a string of cyber attackes by a unknown hacker.

Dick stops listening due to the rining that build up in his ears. It's done. Crowne was arrested. He will be go through his trail, be found guilty and locked up for the rest of his life.

Batman, Robin, and Sparrow would be hunting down the people involved in the ring, rescuing the missing children. The story was over. The villian defeated and the heros had won.

Yet, Dick felt that he could never live to see a happily ever after. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to feel happy.

______________________________________________________

Days blend into each other. Dick isn't sure how much time passes with him lying in his room, too exhausted to get upand go about his day. His family crowds around him, speaking in low, worried tones.

Jason tries to read to him. In bursts of awareness, he discusses the plot but most days, Dick can only find the energy to only stare at him.

Damian, still trying to find his footing in the manor, brings his cat- Alfred- to cuddle against Dick's chest. He doesn't speak much but the purring of his pe helps some sensations return.

Bruce spent most of his time petting Dick's hair and whispering apologies. For the fighting. For the war, he brought him into. For making him due something that had broken Dick's heart. Dick tells him between sobs that he forgives him and that he's sorry too.

Alfred just provids support, tea and stories of his own lost broken heart.

Dick can feel himself rot around in his room but can't bring himself to care. Not even when Bruce finally panics enough to invite the Teen Titians to speak to him. His friends arrive between waves of consciousness, forcing food down his throat and pushing him into the shower.

He isn't aware of how Crowne's trial is going. Walley doesn't think it is a good idea to keep up with it, blocking it from all his outlets. He's the only one he would be allowed to do that.

It leaves Dick in the dark, and suddenly the world looks so much colder. It is hard to remember the world is still spinning outside of the Manor.

Dick closes his eyes, sinking into his mattress, drifting away among the worried chattered of his friends. Thankfully, the nightmares have stopped. The memoriess too.

All that greets him is the blissful nothing of darkness.

____________________________________________________________

"You did this." A voice hisses, snapping Dick from his blank stare at the wall. Raven and Kori had just stepped out after magically him clean and had gone to go get him food.

How many days has it been since he left his room? Dick can't remember. It's been a while; his body feels weak. His friends' and family's eyes have grown increasingly frantic in worry.

He twists his head to find a small figure in his doorway. It's not any of his younger brothers but someone dressed in all black. The bottom half of their face is covered by a black cloth, leaving their burning blue eyes alight with hatred in plain sight.

A intruder.

Dick should be worried about that, shouldn't he? He can't find the energy to be.

"He trusted you. He loved you. And you did this to him," The figure spats, striding forward, hatred dripping from his words. "They're investigating my parents too. The police think they helped Danny and took me away from them. My life is ruined because of you."

He stands over his figure now, holding a needle. Dick wonders if he's going to kill him. He can't find it in himself to care. Is that not an alarming thought?

But he doesn't feel fear. In fact, Dick can't feel anything at all. He makes no sound as the needle breaks the skin of his neck, nor when the figure leans in to whisper. "It's only fair I ruin yours in turn, right?"

Dick slowly gives into the blissful darkness as more figures enter the room, surrounding his body and lifting it off the bed. The last thing he sees is the thrown picture frame, one of the intruders throwing onto the sheets.

It holds the smiling faces of Dick and Crowne on their last date.

[a-lexia11]

Career Day

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warning:none

Words:Around 2.5k

Note: Thank you so much to @chai-berries for the idea🫶🫶This is for you. Also,this is part of the “meeting in Barcelona” universe.

The classroom was buzzing with excitement as today was Career Day. For weeks, my fourth graders had been counting down the days until the special guests would arrive.

They were thrilled to meet professionals from different fields, but there was one guest they were particularly eager to see—Alexia.

The thought of Alexia sharing her experiences with the kids made my heart swell with pride and anticipation.

After all, it wasn’t every day that a football superstar visited our school, and I wanted everything to be perfect.

I was sitting on my chair as Alba, walked into the room. Her usual mischievous grin was firmly in place, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“¿Estás listo para hoy?” (Are you ready for today?) she teased, raising an eyebrow as she leaned against the doorframe.

���Creo que si” (I think so) I replied, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my face. “He estado esperando esto con ansias, pero todavía estoy un poco nervioso. Quiero que todo salga bien” (I’ve been looking forward to it, but I’m still a bit nervous. I want everything to go smoothly.)

Alba chuckled, setting down a stack of papers on her desk. “No te preocupes, Y/N. Va a ser genial. Los niños se van a volver locos cuando vean a Alexia. ¡Han estado hablando de eso toda la semana!” (Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s going to be great. The kids are going to lose their minds when they see Alexia. They’ve been buzzing about it all week!)

“Lo sé” (I know) I said with a nod. “Solo espero que Alexia también lo disfrute. Sé que tiene mucho trabajo con el fútbol” (I just hope Alexia enjoys it too. I know she’s got a lot on her plate with football)

Alba waved a hand dismissively. “Le encantará. Confía en mí, inspirar a los niños es una de sus cosas favoritas. Y seamos realistas: tenerla aquí hará que hoy sea inolvidable para ellos” (She’ll love it. Trust me, inspiring kids is one of her favorite things. And let’s be real—having her here is going to make today unforgettable for them)

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of the school day.

The kids began to trickle into the classroom, their energy palpable. They were practically bouncing with excitement, chattering about the different professionals they were going to meet.

As they settled into their seats, I could see the anticipation shining in their eyes—especially in the girls who played football and idolized Alexia.

When it was finally time for the presentations, I led the kids to the assembly hall, where a variety of professionals were waiting.

There was a policeman in his crisp uniform, a firefighter in full gear, a veterinarian who had brought along a couple of adorable puppies, and a marine biologist with a table full of fascinating seashells.

The students eagerly gathered around each presenter, soaking in the knowledge and asking endless questions.

But despite the excitement surrounding the other professionals, I knew who they were all really waiting for.

And when the time came for Alexia to make her entrance, the anticipation in the room was electric. Standing by the door, I felt my heart race with both pride and nerves.

Then I saw her—walking down the hallway with that effortless grace she had, turning heads without even trying.

She was dressed casually yet stylishly, in her Barcelona jersey and jeans, and her presence alone was enough to command attention.

As she reached me, I greeted her with a warm hug, the familiar scent of her perfume instantly calming my nerves.

“Hey, you,” I whispered, smiling up at her. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

Alexia’s eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm as she returned my hug. “No me lo perdería por nada del mundo. He estado esperando esto con ansias; he escuchado tanto sobre estos niños de ti y de Alba” (I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ve been looking forward to this—I’ve heard so much about these kids from you and Alba)

As we walked together to the front of the room, the kids’ excitement reached a fever pitch.

The chatter turned into a chorus of squeals and whispers, and I could see the girls who played football practically bouncing with joy.

“Escuchen, todos” (Listen, everyone) I began, addressing the class with a smile, “esta es Alexia Putellas, la capitana del FC Barcelona y de la selección española. Démosle una calurosa bienvenida” (this is Alexia Putellas, the captain of FC Barcelona and the Spanish national team. Let’s give her a warm welcome!)

The applause and cheers that followed were deafening, and I saw Alexia’s cheeks flush with a mix of pleasure and shyness as she waved to the kids.

Her smile radiated warmth, and I could tell she was genuinely happy to be there.

“Gracias por una bienvenida tan calurosa.”(Thank you for such a warm welcome) Alexia said, her voice effortlessly carrying over the noise. “Estoy muy emocionada de estar aquí y hablarles sobre lo que es ser futbolista profesional” (I’m really excited to be here and talk to you about what it’s like to be a professional footballer.)

As Alexia began her presentation, I watched the kids’ faces light up with fascination.

She spoke about her journey from being a young girl who loved kicking a ball around to becoming one of the top footballers in the world.

Her stories were filled with passion, perseverance, and moments of triumph and challenge. The kids were completely captivated.

After Alexia’s talk, it was time for questions, and a sea of eager hands shot up. I couldn’t help but grin at their enthusiasm.

Sofia, one of the most energetic girls in the class, was the first to ask, “¿Cuál es la parte más difícil de ser futbolista?” (What’s the hardest part about being a footballer?)

Alexia paused thoughtfully before answering. “Diría que la parte más difícil es lidiar con las lesiones y los contratiempos. Es difícil cuando no puedes jugar, y puede ser frustrante. Pero con trabajo duro, determinación y el apoyo de tu equipo, puedes superar esos desafíos”(I’d say the hardest part is dealing with injuries and setbacks. It’s tough when you can’t play, and it can be frustrating. But with hard work, determination, and the support of your team, you can overcome those challenges.)

Pablo, a thoughtful and curious boy, asked, “¿Cuál es la mejor parte de ganar un gran partido?”(What’s the best part about winning a big game?)

Alexia’s eyes sparkled as she replied, “La mejor parte es celebrar con mis compañeros de equipo. No hay nada como esa sensación de logro y alegría que compartimos todos juntos. Hace que todo el trabajo duro valga la pena” (The best part is celebrating with my teammates. There’s nothing like that feeling of accomplishment and joy that we all share together. It makes all the hard work worth it.)

Then Lena, one of the cheekier students, piped up with a grin. “La próxima vez que marques un gol, ¿puedes hacer una voltereta?” (Next time you score a goal, can you do a backflip?)

I couldn’t help but laugh, imagining Alexia attempting a backflip. She chuckled too, shaking her head. “¿Una voltereta? No creo que pueda hacer eso, ahora soy demasiado vieja, como un dinosaurio” (A backflip? I don’t think I can do that, I’m too old now,like a dinosaur)

The kids burst into laughter, and it was clear that Alexia was thoroughly enjoying herself.

As the questions continued, some of the girls couldn’t contain their excitement any longer and rushed forward to give Alexia a hug.

She knelt down to their level, hugging them back with genuine affection, and the sight melted my heart. It was clear that she was more than just a football star to them—she was a role model, someone they looked up to and admired deeply.

One of the boys, clearly awestruck by Alexia’s presence, suddenly blurted out, “Espera, ¿eres pariente de la señorita Alba? ¡Te pareces a ella y tienen el mismo apellido” (Wait—are you related to Miss Alba? You look like sisters and you have the same family name!)

Alexia and I both smile gently, and Alba, who was standing nearby, couldn’t resist chiming in. “Tienes buen ojo, niño. ¡Somos hermanas! Pero creo que yo soy más bonita” (You’ve got good eyes, kid. We are sisters! But I think I’m prettier)

The students giggled at Alba’s playful comment, and Alexia rolled her eyes affectionately. “Sí, sí, sigue diciéndote eso, Alba” (Yeah, yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Alba)

When it was time for Alexia to show off her medals, the excitement in the room reached new heights.

She carefully pulled out her Champions League medal and her World Cup medal, holding them up for the students to see.

“Esto” (This) Alexia said, pointing to the Champions League medal, “Es de cuando ganamos la Champions League. Fue una experiencia inolvidableis (from when we won the Champions League. It was an unforgettable experience)

The kids’ eyes widened with awe as they examined the medals up close.

There were gasps of amazement and excited whispers as they passed the medals around, handling them as if they were the most precious treasures in the world.

“Esto” (This) Alexia continued, holding up the World Cup medal, “es de cuando ganamos the World Cup. Requirió mucho trabajo duro y dedicación llegar hasta aquí, pero valió la pena cada momento.(is from winning the World Cup. It took a lot of hard work and dedication to get here, but it was worth every moment)

One of the girls, Beatriz, looked up at Alexia with wide eyes and asked, “¿Crees que algún día podríamos ganar uno de estos?”(Do you think we could win one of these someday?)

Alexia smiled down at her, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. “Absolutamente. Si trabajas duro, te mantienes dedicado y crees en ti mismo, puedes lograr cualquier cosa que te propongas. No siempre será fácil, pero te lo prometo: valdrá la pena.”(Absolutely. If you work hard, stay dedicated, and believe in yourself, you can achieve anything you set your mind to. It won’t always be easy, but I promise you—it will be worth it.)

The girls who played football seemed especially inspired by her words. Some of them even asked for tips on improving their game, and Alexia was more than happy to give them advice.

“Enfócate en tu técnica, practica regularmente y, lo más importante, disfruta del juego y juega con el corazón.” (Focus on your technique, practice regularly, and most importantly—enjoy the game and most importantly play with your heart) she said, her words leaving a lasting impression on the kids.

After Alexia’s presentation, the kids eagerly lined up for autographs, pictures and hugs.

The girls were especially thrilled, their faces glowing with admiration as Alexia signed their papers, shirts, and even a couple of footballs they had brought along.

As the last few students trickled out of the hall, I caught Alexia’s eye and smiled. She made her way over to me, and I could see the satisfaction and happiness in her expression.

“That was incredible” she said softly, slipping her hand into mine as we stood in the now-empty hall. “Eran tan amables, y su entusiasmo... me recordó por qué empecé a jugar al fútbol en primer lugar.” (They were so sweet, and their enthusiasm… it reminded me of why I started playing football in the first place.)

“You were amazing,” I replied, squeezing her hand gently. “You really connected with them. I think they’ll be talking about this day for a long time. And those hugs? So cute.”

Alexia chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, those hugs were pretty great. I don’t usually get swarmed by tiny fans like that.” She paused, her voice turning more tender. “Pero me alegra haber compartido esto contigo. Verte con tus alumnos, lo mucho que te adoran... me hizo quererte aún más” (But I’m glad I got to share this with you.Seeing you with your students, how much they adore you… it made me love you even more.)

My heart fluttered at her words, and I leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“I’m so happy you were here. It means the world to me—and to them.”

Just then, Alba appeared, her ever-present grin in place. “Bueno, bueno, bueno, miren a ustedes dos siendo tan adorables. Espero que no te hayas robado todo mi protagonismo, Alexia. ¿Todavía soy la profesora favorita aquí, verdad?” (Well, well, well, look at you two being all adorable. I hope you didn’t steal all my thunder, Alexia. I’m still the favorite teacher here, right?)

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Lo deseas, Alba. Pero tengo que decir que haces un gran trabajo entreteniendo a los niños, realmente les gustas” (You wish, Alba. But I have to say, you do a great job at entertaining the kids,they really like you)

Alba shrugged modestly. “¿Qué puedo decir? Soy una natural. Pero, sinceramente, ver lo emocionados que estaban por conocer a Alexia... valió la pena. Incluso si eso significa que ya no soy la Putellas más genial por aquí” (What can I say? I’m a natural. But honestly, seeing how excited they were to meet Alexia… it was worth it. Even if it means I’m not the coolest Putellas around here anymore.)

Alexia smirked, nudging her sister with her elbow. “No te preocupes, Alba. Siempre serás la profesora más genial de esta escuela, después de Y/N, por supuesto. Bueno, al menos hasta que decida retirarme del fútbol y dedicarme a la enseñanza” (Don’t worry, Alba. You’ll always be the coolest teacher in this school after Y/N obviously. Well,at least until I decide to retire from football and take up teaching.)

The idea of Alexia as a teacher made me laugh, and Alba joined in. “Pagará buen dinero por ver eso” (I’d pay good money to see that) Alba teased. “Imagina verte intentando enseñar a un aula llena de alumnos de 10 años” (Imagine you trying to teach a classroom full of ten years-old)

“Creo que me las arreglaría” (I think I’d manage) Alexia replied, a playful glint in her eye. “He enfrentado oponentes más difíciles, después de todo” (I’ve faced tougher opponents, after all)

We all shared a laugh, and the camaraderie between us felt effortless and warm, like we were a little family.

It was moments like these that made me grateful for the relationships we’d built—both with each other and with the kids.

As the day wound down and the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Alexia and I walked hand in hand toward the parking lot.

The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of autumn leaves.

“I really enjoyed today” Alexia said, her voice filled with warmth. “It was so nice to see the kids so excited and engaged. And being here with you and Alba… it made it even more special.”

I smiled, feeling a rush of affection for her. “I’m so glad you could be here. It means a lot to me, and I know it meant the world to those kids. They’ll remember this day forever.”

We reached her car, and Alexia pulled me into a gentle hug, her arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace.

I leaned into her, savoring the warmth of her embrace.

We lingered in each other’s arms for a few more moments. Eventually, Alexia pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on my waist.

“I have to head to training soon” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “But I’ll be thinking about you the whole time.”

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “And I’ll be thinking about you. Go be amazing, as always”

She grinned, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before reluctantly stepping back. “¿Te veré esta noche?” (I’ll see you tonight?)

“Of course” I replied, my heart already longing for her return.

As I watched her drive away, my heart felt full—full of love, gratitude, and contentment. The day had been everything I had hoped for and more.

FIN

[lanabuckybarnes]

Would you write a plus size reader w either bucky or steve(or both) where they are her first real relationship and she gets scared that she doesn't deserve to be with either of them and so she tries to push them away so she doesn't get hurt but instead they show her why she is their person.... like tooth rotting fluff and the filthiest smut..... if that's okay if not no worries

| All Yours, Only Yours |

18+ Minors DNI

✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

✧Warnings✧ A lil angsty, Sharon being a big bully (like seriously you’re 50 and you’re bullying someone? ick), Name calling, Angry Buck, Crying, Bucky is a simp, Confessions, Marking, Dry humping, Oral (F), Fingering (F), Teeny bit of cum play, Dirty talk, Unprotected PinV, Praise, Petnames, My shitty writing — again very tame for me but i didnt want to go overboard. If there any more I’ve neglected to add please let me know.

✧Word Count✧ 4.3K

✧Author Note✧ I really hope you enjoy this and I've done your request justice, I honestly tried my best but idk…Anyways!!! Much love to everyone, please let me know what you think. Love ya xxx

“Still not answering?” Natasha asks from her spot in the cockpit, concern evident from the wrinkle between her brows.

“Nope” he spits his reply, reeling from the whole ordeal. He thrusts his phone into his jean pocket, sick to the back teeth of nothing but a black screen greeting him instead of your sweet little messages.

“Did you piss her off or something?” Sam tries to lighten the mood but is swiftly shut down, his hands rising in surrender at the killer glare the brunette shot his way.

“Calm down everyone, we’ll be home soon so we can figure this out” Steve, the voice of reason commands order within the small confines of the jet. He sits, a gloved hand rubbing over his friend's shoulder trying to reassure his muddled brain but to no avail.

Bucky is pissed. He’s pissed and he’s worried sick. A week he’s been gone for and he’s missing you like crazy. The only issue? You are ignoring him, straight up ghosting his brooding ass which is completely unlike you. Often on missions when Bucky clicks his phone on he’s greeted with a flurry of messages from you; photos of little birds you see on your walks, photos of alpine taken at odd angles and constant little messages that make his heart full and ready to continue his painstaking missions—none of it, just a notification from your favourite restaurant offering a discount to keep him happy.

As soon as this jet landed he was going to get to the bottom of what was going on and then he was going to cuddle you to death as punishment. Not that he’d let anyone else know that.

One Week Earlier…

Beep beep beep. Bucky’s alarm sounds at the ungodly hour of five am, his groan following. He didn't want to get out of this bed, he was too warm, his huge body wrapped around yours. Your movements spurred his own, your arm reaching over to switch off his alarm while he pushed himself into a sit, thoughts already on the mission afoot.

“Morning,” your raspy voice purrs, bringing his attention back to you. His eyes fall to your face; following the slope of your puffy cheeks up to your barely open eyes, your hues peeking through only enough to tease him. Putting his weight on his right arm he’s on top of you before you can blink, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, peppering tiny kisses along the warm skin.

“Morning princess,” he bites back his yawn, shifting so his hips slot in their spot between your plush thighs, loving the way they wrapped around his narrow waist just the way he loved. Practice truly did make perfect. His dark vibranium fingers drifted from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast until it found its favourite perch on your hips.

“So fucking pretty” he breathes, his pupils dilating to let more of you in — until you pushed him away.

“You gotta get ready Mr” you giggle, moving your foot so you could push him further away, ruining his plan B of pinning you down by your hips.

“Don’t remind me…”

His cold left hand hooks around your ankle, pushing at it until your knee hinged, bending up and out. A suspicious hardness presses against you, a wicked smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“I mean it Buck we can’t, Nat will be kicking that door down any minute” he groans at your words knowing that you are completely right. That lock had been replaced an embarrassing amount of times because of that exact situation. You hated rejecting him, knowing that he could easily put you back to sleep until midday if he wanted. After a small standoff between you both you warn him again, an arch in your brow and a growl behind his name.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

You laugh, sitting up, watching him skulk around the room in nothing but his grey Calvin Kleins, “I haven’t done anything!”

“Sure you haven’t” he argues, moving over to you again, his metal fingers looping under your chin to tilt your head back to gaze up at him, “Looking so fucking sexy in the morning and I can’t fuck you stupid. That’s not teasing that’s damn near criminal.”

You groan, rolling your eyes at your pouty 106-year-old man. You inch closer to his mouth, a sickly sweet definitely not bratty smirk on your face. “Get your ass ready.”

“Fine…but only because you looked so fucking sexy ordering me around,”

“Bucky!” You shout after him, blush on your full cheeks. He only smirks over his shoulder, pushing his briefs to the floor at the entrance to the bathroom, giving you a full view of his posterior.

You get up too, knowing you had been awake too long to fall asleep again. You get ready with the shower as background noise, pulling on some workout clothes. Today you decided you’d try out the gym right here in the compound, you’d been to many different ones in the past; often polluted with the smell of days-old sweat and men reeking of testosterone, grunting and groaning at weights you could only dream of lifting.

An hour later, after waving Bucky off on his week-long mission you were in the gym.

“Hey” you smile as you pass Sharon, her blonde hair whipping as she ducks and weaves to dodger imaginary punches the bag throws out before throwing a couple of her own. She offers you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes straying from your face down your body. She takes note of your long top and shorts that settle around mid-thigh compared to her sports bra and tiny shorts — her flat stomach and sculpted legs on display.

God you wish you had just as much ventilation. Just as you go to place your earphones in your ears you hear a scoff coming from Sharon’s direction. You pay it no mind, setting the treadmill for a nice incline and pace, pressing the timer until it shone with the time you wanted.

The treadmill slowed for the cooldown. Your eyes moved from the display in front to glance over your shoulder, the gym was empty. You grab your bottle only to realise thanks to your distraction you'd finished off your water. You stop the treadmill and hop off, making a beeline for the kitchen. The walk to the kitchen from the gym wasn’t that long but with the feeling of your sweat culminating in places you didn’t want it to be it was almost torturous.

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw her,”

A gaggle of hushed laughs comes from the kitchen, stopping you. A familiar dread coils in your stomach, reminding you of when you were young, the children pointing and laughing — joking at your expense.

“she must been on that treadmill for about five minutes and she was all like huff huff” she laughs obnoxiously “Her face was like a big tomato, I almost died trying to keep myself from laughing” Sharon continues.

The group cackles again at your expense, almost doubling as Sharon makes the huffing noise again. You cling to your shirt, pulling it from sticking to your body. These women you thought were friends did just what everyone else did.

“She’s pathetic, I don’t know what Bucky sees in her” Your heart stops. That little devil on your jumps and cheers at the confirmation of what it has been telling you since the start of your relationship with Bucky. You were never enough.

“I can’t wait for him to dump her once he gets sick of her wide load.”

Tears fall on their own accord but you don't register them, too busy inside your head being suffocated by every doubt and self-conscious thought you ever had since you confessed your feelings for the super soldier. You didn't deserve Bucky and everyone thought that too.

Back at your room, freshly clean. You scrolled through your messages from Bucky. The little hearts next to his messages no longer felt genuine like he was only doing it merely to save your feelings from being hurt. You were nothing but a burden that he was forced to bear; it wouldn’t be long before like Sharon said, he got sick of the clinginess and the need for reassurance and broke up with you.

Well, you weren’t going to be a burden any longer. You wouldn’t let him break your heart first. You turned your phone off, tucking it into your bedside drawer.

—

“Bucky wait!” Sam calls from the quinjet but it goes ignored. Bucky’s face is twisted in annoyance as he takes wide, purposeful steps towards the tower doors. He was going to find you and you were going to tell him why the fuck you were ignoring him.

He ignores the shouts of his name as Nat, Steve and Sam follow him indoors, smashing the elevator button with his thumb and stepping inside. Once on your floor, he stormed like a charging bull to your room, slamming a gloved fist on your door in a poor excuse for a knock.

The loud knocking from the other end of the room had you jumping back in your seat, the slee overtaking you gone in an instant. Your heart lurched at the familiar face, worn from exhaustion and malice clear from the scrunching of his forehead and tick in his cheek muscle.

“Oh hello, where have you been?” Bucky snaps, glaring down at you as you use the door as a shield from his scrutinising eyes. Here it comes, the moment you’d prepared for all week. You don’t think you’ll go back to dating apps, too many weird me—

“You know how worried I was when you didn't answer me all week?”

Huh. “Huh?”

“‘Huh?’ Are you joking? You ghosted me, left me scared to death on a mission halfway across the globe and all you can say to me is huh!” His blue eyes glisten and you look at them closer. There was no anger there, only concern and fear culminating in swirls across his blue orbs, rearing its head in rage across Bucky’s face.

“Bucky I—” you try but you can’t find the words, each syllable sticks in your throat, balling up until it feels like you can no longer breathe. The week of bottled-up emotions spills forth at the sight of him — at the revelation that he was utterly terrified. Tears fall from your eyes before you know it, your lip wobbling as you keep trying to speak.

Bucky’s shoulders tense at the sight of tiny tears falling over your full cheeks, guilt replacing his earlier pain,

“Fuck c’mere baby” he pulls you close, bending at an almost uncomfortable angle just to hold you as close as humanly possible.

“I'm so sorry for being so annoyed but you have to see why I was so scared something had happened to you. You left me on read for an entire week and blanked my calls. That isn’t you, you know how scary that was for me?” He whispers so softly, backing you up to sit on your bed.

In his arms, surrounded by his warmth and scent the week you had fell from your mouth like alphabet soup, from the gym to Sharon to how hard it was to ignore your phone knowing that Bucky would’ve been calling you every single day but you did it to protect your own heart. Nothing was kept a secret.

“I’ll kill her,” he growls when you finish, muscles tightening even more around you.

“Buck.”

“Right…sorry, I won't kill her” He lied between his teeth, well sort of. He wouldn’t actually kill Sharon but he knew you'd be upset if he did anything to her which he was indeed planning to do but to save you any more pain for the evening, to keep that teeny tiny smile on your face he lied.

“What makes her think she has any fucking right to speak on other people’s appearance anyway?”

“She wasn't lying…” it came out in the tiniest little voice, maybe your way of silently hoping he didn't hear it and he wouldn’t have if it weren't for his super soldier ears.

Gripping onto your wrists Bucky flipped your world in an instant, the breath leaving your lungs as your back makes contact with the bed, your wrists caught on either side of your head.

“Are you lying to me doll?” He says, raising a brow at you.

“No…”

“You are! You're lying right to my face,” he argues, pressing your wrists further into the mattress below. Your eyes fall shut as his face inches closer to yours.

“Look at me princess,” he waits until you open both eyes again, looking up at him as if he strung the stars in the sky “There is not a single thing that I'd change about you and I mean that. I fell in love with you the way you are now, you aren't some bitch that gets off on making fun of others. I fell head over damn heels for you because you are you.”

His eyes sparkle with adoration, his hands running up and down your body softly. The juxtaposition of metal on one side and warmth on the other sends shivers up your spine.

“I love you,” he breathes, leaning down again till your lips graze his. A teasing smile pulled on the pink corners of his mouth, a similar glint in his eyes, “you know that right?”

“Yes,” you nod, pushing up to close the distance between your mouths but he pulls away.

“I don't think you do,”

“I do Buck I promise.”

“Well…” he began, the glint in his eyes dulling as want engulfed the colour, “let me make sure.”

Bucky takes his time. He has to knowing that you're feeling small. Slowly his lips slot with yours, ushering out sweet little sounds to replace the broken ones that still thrum fresh in his mind.

“I love you,” he says again, capturing your hitched gasp with his tongue as he pushes it past the seam of your mouth, the tip flicking against your own to entice it to mingle. Slowly but surely the tension drips from your shoulders, your arms moving from his grip to trail up over his rigid stomach and chest. They sink below the shoulder pads of his jacket, pushing it off his broad frame and onto the floor beside the bed. Your hands paw at the exposed skin on his arm, fingers squeezing, nails scraping over the corded muscle.

“All of yours…all of it.”

Each time the seal of your mouths broke you chase them, planting kisses teeming with nothing but raw desire onto kiss-bitten lips. The words that Sharon said are long gone from your mind now, replaced by the man in front of you. Everything you smell, taste, touch and see — it's all him.

The brunette slips off his glove; his warm and cold, metal hand grips your hips, pulling you up into his lap with a squeak.

“You feel that?” He grunts, moving from your mouth down your face to your neck. His lips suck and his teeth nibble, marking you, proving to anyone around that dare dispute his love for you again. With undeniable strength he grinds you down into a sizeable bulge poking from his tight jeans, he hisses at the contact, letting a hand fall to your ass with a small spank.

Your arousal seeps through your thin panties making them stick to your dainty folds; your clit buzzes at the delicious scratch the metal of his zip brings you — a gasp catching in your throat every time your neglected nub catches the pull tab.

As much as he worshiped the way you dry-humped his cock, soaking the front of his jeans. Bucky is desperate. After a week of no contact, not even a tiny emoji heart never mind a raunchy photo, he needs something — anything. And he's going to get it.

“Get on the bed” he demands, pushing at you ever so slightly. “Panties off.”

You do as you are told, fingers frantically hooking into the waistband of your underwear, rolling the material over your thick thighs until they hook around a single ankle.

“Spread those legs for me baby, lemme see that sweet little cunt.”

You hesitate for a second, your legs twitching to open but knees knocking again as you close them. Blown pupils snap onto your face his jaw clenched hard and his nostrils flared. Before you can react his calloused hands settle gently, luring you into a false sense of security.

They soothe down your thighs as his blue eyes study you. Inch by inch his dull nails tap over your beautifully wide thighs until he's back at your kneecaps. With a soft unassuming smile, bucky pushes your legs wide, a rush of oxygen leaving you as your sopping folds are exposed to the cool air of the room. He doesn't give you a chance to breathe before a warm hand smacks over your wet folds, your body jerks, an unabashed moan flying from your parted lips.

“Don't fucking deny me this” he growls, fire roaring in his eyes. “You ghosted me for a week, now you're gonna lie there all pretty and let me eat this sweet fucking cunt.”

You nod, biting your lip. At the first presence of him between your legs, his hot breath billowing over your labia, your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Over each fold, ridge and crevice his breath fans, a shiver rolling over your spine each time; without warning he lays his tongue flat and wide, licking a strip from hole to clit. His tongue disappears and he does it again, guttural sounds falling from him at your taste mixing with the sharp trills you let out.

“Sing for me baby, let me know how good I'm making that pretty pussy feel” He delves in like a man starved, devouring your cunt as though it were his first and last ever meal on earth. He'd die happily if it were.

You were a mess, a mess of pleading cries. Your legs shake against his powerful hold, your hands grip his unruly brunette locks. Letting his hands drop from your thighs he stops his slurping to lay a soft, sweet peck on your raw clit. He smiles up at you, his face glistening with your juices visible thanks to the city lights peeking in through your open windows. Your mind wandered, wondering if the people in the building across could see the way Bucky fucked his tongue into you, curling the long muscle up to press against that ridged spot on your upper walls — he hit it with ease every time.

Using your distraction as an advantage bucky moves a hand to join his mouth, sliding his fingers in alongside his tongue for a second before he pulls his tongue from you. He moves, looming over you with a massive shit-eating grin at how much he unravelled you. you should've been embarrassed at how wet his face was; slick ran from his stubbled upper lip over and below his chin. You had done that to him and he wore it proudly. His fingers push deeper and curl out, coaxing the coils in your stomach to snap.

“Come on baby I know you feel it” he speeds up, the sound of your messy pussy almost as loud as your harsh breaths and whimpers.

“Buckyyy” you squeal, gripping at anything you can.

“That's it, baby…you're squeezing around my fingers, are you gonna cum?”

You nod but it's not enough for your man. He dips, nipping at a pebbled nipple and that's all it takes for those tightly coiled ropes to pull taut and snap. A sound you've never heard from yourself erupts from your lungs, your fingers clutching at bucky, the sheets, anything. Stars peppered your vision, blocking out the smug image of your boyfriend, blood rushing in your ears muffling his words of praise.

“Come back to me baby, that's it, good girl. such a good girl” Bucky coos, his fingers slipping out to rub lazily at your clit. He keeps going until you jerk harshly in his hold.

“You did so well, such a good fucking girl cumming like that for me” He praises, kissing your cheek and then your mouth, a smirk pulling at his lips when you moan at your taste.

You flash him a big dopey smile in return, your eyes hazy and your plump little cheeks flushed. You look gorgeous; Bucky had seen many things in his long drawn-out life but nothing could ever compare to how you looked fucked out beneath him.

He would stay like this forever…if his cock wasn't aching for release.

He stands, fiddling with his belt and fly until it comes loose. He wastes no time in pushing them both past his round ass and onto the floor, his cock springing free. His shirt goes next, thrown somewhere in your small room letting you get the full experience of what Bucky had to offer you. Layers of corded muscle ripple beneath his silky but scarred skin, his chest peppered in tiny curly hairs that sink below his sternum and over his abs where they begin to thicken until they finish, well trimmed at the base of his thick, heavy cock.

His eyes never stray from your body as he takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice, his thumb catching the precum leaking from his tip. He kneels back between your welcoming legs, rubbing his slick thumb over your lips. A hushed chuckle vibrates in his chest as you suck the thumb into your mouth, eagerly licking his taste from the digit.

“Such a dirty girl,” you giggle, pulling back until his thumb slips out of your mouth with a pop. “Do you think you can handle one more hm? Can you let me fuck that little hole?”

“yes Buck” you smile, your eyes falling shut as he kisses you again.

“good girl” he growls, moving your legs over his own before grabbing a pillow to squish under your hips. With one hand he pushes the head of his length through your mess, dipping into your hole before running back up over your clit. He does it a few times, occasionally slapping his cock against you, praising each tiny sound you let out.

“Please Buck” You toss your head back, grinding your hips up to meet nothing. At this rate, you were going to come to nothing more than his teasing.

“Please what?” Oh he's a piece of shit. He knows what you want because he wants it too. He waits for a beat, enjoying your huffs of frustration. “Tell me and I'll do it.”

With the last of your sanity, you cry out, “fuck me buck ple—ah”

You slap a hand over your mouth as he spears into you, stretching you like he does time and time again. It never gets any easier with a size like Bucky’s; his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust and your walls sing at the almost painful stretch.

Bucky’s thrusts are delightfully slow, letting you feel each drag and push, each rigid vein on his pulsing cock. There is no fucking involved, he's making love, making sure you know that he would spend eternity wrapped up in your body no matter what size you are. The deep coloured marks along your neck and between your thighs would attest to that.

“Fuck” he moans, mouth gaping. “Don't think ill last long princess” His vibranium fingers fall to your soft belly, skating over the smooth skin to your full hip.

He squeezes hard enough to leave marks, “fucking mine.”

His thrusts speed up, his head snapping back and eyes rolling. His balls bounce rhythmically against your ass, the bulbous head of his cock smashing into the end of your cunt where a dull ache forms — a warning of future hurt when you wake tomorrow. You don't care, not when his free hand dips between you both, pulling back the hood of your sensitive nub and flicking it over and over.

He feels the way you tighten around him, holding him in a vice grip, “hold it princess, just a little longer come on”

“I can't Bucky please” you whimper in response.

“Yes, you can baby—oh fuck I'm close” his weight falls atop yours, smothering you in him. His hips stutter, his balls pulling up towards his body.

“Cum now, soak my big fucking dick.”

The slamming of the headboard ceases when his thrusts slow to shallow grinding, his mouth swallows any sounds you let out.

“Such a good fucking girl for me—shit” he sighs, slips from you with a hiss.

“Buck—”

“Shh pretty girl you're alright” he holds you close for a while, holding you tight to his broad body. Tears fall from your cheeks but he swipes them away. You don't know why you ever doubted Bucky, he's the only constant in your life.

“I love you” He whispers as the blood rushing in your ears settles, running through your veins in exhaustion.

“I love you too”

“Don't you ever listen to those idiots again, because I will show you over and over what you mean to me” Bucky promises with a kiss on the crown of your head.

You smile, laying your own lazy kiss over your thumping heart. You like the sound of that.

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fic please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what I read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

[bunnyrafe]

hiii bunny i hope you’re having a better day today<3

so i’ve had this idea in my notes for a few weeks that i was gonna hold onto until after kinktober but if it’s ok to send stuff in the meantime… i’ve been thinking about a corruption kink w rafe where he convinces you to make a sex tape of your first time / losing your virginity for like the sentimental memory of it all bc i feel like he would be so fucking perverted about it but you’re just thinking how romantic it is (i love being delusional)

this has bimbo!reader all over it… and her & sleazy!rafe go together REAL WELL. ♥︎ this drabble kind of got away from me a bit but i still love it, not gonna lie. and as always— i would literally kiss your brain if i could, kittybaby.

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. f / ditsy!reader, pervy / sleazy!rafe, filming, loss of virginity, unprotected sex.

you have a hard time discerning whether you’re really dumb or if rafe is just messing with your head— maybe a fair mix of both.

it’s hard for a girl that's always been naive.

that’s why you don’t think much of it when he tells you he just wants to take a few videos. he's only being a loving boyfriend... the videos range from some of you kissing all wet & sloppy, some with your pretty lips wrapped around his fingers because your throat isn’t trained for his cock yet, one or two with those same deft digits rubbing your clit and dipping into your sweet, messy cunt while he coos behind his phone in response to your little mewls.

you’re a drooling mess before you even end up on your back, promising that it's okay for him to fully tug your sticky panties down your legs while he feigns concern.

rafe is quick to help you keep your legs spread and your cunt on display for him— your smaller hands are tucked under your knees with his gentle guidance, squishing them against your heated tummy and sensitive breasts. you shy away from the flash coming from his phone in the process.

“ready, angel face?”

rafe grunts, lining his cock up with your cunt and smacking your clit with the fat head until you squeal. he rambles above you— no doubt putting a show on for his self; "so sweet f'me— for letting me record your cherry bein' popped. can't wait to watch it back together— yeah? y'want that, sweet girl?”

“want it,” you whine out. you’re willing to agree with whatever he says at this point as you stare up at him, nearly with baby pink hearts in your pupils— “please. i love you, rafey.”

at that, rafe can’t help but fucking you full. bottoming out and pressing in as deep as he possibly can in the next second, watching you writhe and suck in a sharp breath at the sudden and painful stretch. if you had a clear mind you might have realized just how evil it is of him to do such a thing.

but instead you cream around him, just from him stuffing his dick in you for the very first time. he can’t bite back the breathy laugh that falls from his lips while your glassy eyes lock with camera, cumming your brains out on his dick and digging your nails into your own plushy skin on the underside of your thighs— before he even got the chance to fuck you good.

“that’s a good girl,” he sighs out the praise, feeling his heart swell in his chest while he tries to keep his composure and decides to let you have your moment. no matter how hard it is for him to not rear back and pound into you.

plus— he’s sure your home video will be better if you’re as dumbed down and slutty as you can possibly be, like his own lil’ fuck doll.

[misswynters]

Pretty in Pink

Jacaerys Velaryon x wife! reader

[WARNING: dark romance, yandere behavior, misspellings

[tags: soft jace, father jace, rude behavior

[a/n: bringing back dark!jace, just thought of this for no reason (if you would like to be tagged for all of the jace content let me know! <3)

The morning sun filtered through the thick curtains of the chamber, casting a soft, golden light over the room. You stirred from your sleep, the warmth of the bed and the comforting presence of Jacaerys beside you making it difficult to fully wake. As your eyes fluttered open, you were greeted by the soft sound of giggles, the kind that could only belong to your daughter.

Jacaerys was sitting up in bed, his wild curls tousled from sleep, but his eyes were bright and alert. He was completely captivated by the tiny figure perched on his lap. Your daughter, with her dark, curly hair and bright, mischievous eyes, was the very image of her father. She was clothed in a tiny pink gown that matched the one you had worn the night before, the soft fabric clinging to her chubby little frame as she clapped her hands, clearly delighted with whatever game Jacaerys was playing with her.

“Good morning, sweet girl,” you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep as you propped yourself up on one elbow to watch them. Jacaerys looked over at you with a smile that melted your heart, his eyes filled with a tenderness that was reserved only for you and your daughter.

“She woke up early,” he explained softly, his large hands carefully supporting her as she wobbled on his lap. “I thought I’d let you sleep a little longer.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man who had become everything to you. “Thank you, Jace,” you said, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his lips. He returned it gently before focusing back on your daughter, who was now babbling happily to herself, her little fists clutching the fabric of Jacaerys’ tunic.

“And how’s my little princess this morning?” you cooed, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her forehead. She looked up at you with those big brown eyes that never failed to make your heart skip a beat, her tiny face lighting up as she recognized you.

“Pretty in pink, just like her mother,” Jacaerys said with a soft chuckle, lifting her slightly so that she was at your eye level. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

Your daughter gurgled in response, a string of incomprehensible baby talk that had both of you laughing softly. You could see the adoration in Jacaerys’ eyes as he looked at her, the way his entire world seemed to revolve around this tiny little being. And it wasn’t just the soft moments like this—no, Jacaerys would go to the ends of the earth for his daughter.

He gave her everything she asked for, every whim indulged, every desire met. Whether it was a new toy, a special treat, or simply more time with her father, Jacaerys made sure that she had it. The maids and servants had taken to calling her the little princess of Dragonstone, a title that Jacaerys encouraged with every passing day.

But there was another side to his love, one that was fierce and unyielding. If anyone dared to ignore her, if anyone so much as thought to mistreat her, Jacaerys would ensure that they understood the consequences of their actions. He had a way of speaking to people, a certain tone that could send chills down the spine of even the bravest knights. There had been more than one occasion where a careless servant had found themselves the subject of a very special talk with the Lord of Dragonstone, emerging pale and shaken, but utterly devoted to ensuring that the little princess was never neglected again.

“Jace, you spoil her,” you teased lightly, though there was no real admonishment in your voice. You couldn’t blame him—who could resist those big eyes and that bright, innocent smile?

“She deserves to be spoiled,” he said, his voice firm, but there was a softness in his gaze as he looked at you. “She’s our daughter. She should have everything the world has to offer.”

“And what if she asks for the moon?” you teased, reaching out to take her from his arms. She settled into your embrace with a contented sigh, her tiny hand wrapping around your finger.

“Then I’ll find a way to give it to her,” he replied without missing a beat, his eyes sparkling with determination. You laughed softly, shaking your head at his response. There was no doubt in your mind that he meant it, that if your daughter ever wanted something as impossible as the moon, Jacaerys would move heaven and earth to make it happen.

“Do you think you could start with something a bit more manageable, like breakfast?” you asked with a playful smile, shifting your daughter in your arms as you sat up fully in bed.

“Of course,” Jacaerys said, rising from the bed with a fluid grace that always left you a little breathless. “I’ll have something brought up for all of us.”

As he moved to the door, your daughter watched him intently, her little face scrunching up as she realized he was leaving. She let out a small whimper, her tiny hands reaching out for him, and you felt your heart clench at the sound.

Jacaerys paused immediately, turning back to her with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, little one. I’m not going far,” he reassured her, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She seemed to understand, her expression calming as he straightened up and left the room. You watched him go, your heart swelling with love for the man who had become not just your husband, but the father of your child—the man who would do anything to make sure she was happy, safe, and loved.

As you rocked your daughter gently in your arms, humming a soft tune to her, you couldn’t help but reflect on how much your life had changed since Jacaerys had come into it. He had been the heir to Driftmark, the strong, determined prince who had always seemed so sure of himself, so confident in his place in the world. But beneath that exterior had been a man who needed someone to lean on, someone who could share the burdens that came with his birthright.

And now, as a father, he had found a new purpose, a new strength. The fierce love he felt for his daughter was something that took your breath away, something that made you fall even more deeply in love with him every day.

When Jacaerys returned, it was with a tray laden with food—fresh fruit, warm bread, and a selection of pastries that had your daughter squirming in excitement. “I think someone’s ready for breakfast,” he said with a smile as he set the tray down on the bed.

You laughed softly, setting your daughter down on the bed between you as you began to serve the food. She reached out eagerly, her chubby hands grabbing at the fruit with a delighted giggle, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“She has your appetite,” you teased, glancing over at Jacaerys as you handed him a piece of bread.

“She has everything of mine,” he replied with a soft chuckle, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “But she’s her mother’s daughter too. She has your strength, your fire.”

“And your stubbornness,” you added with a grin, earning a playful glare from Jacaerys. But there was no denying it—your daughter was a perfect blend of both of you, with all the best qualities of each.

As you ate together, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you. There were no dragons to worry about, no battles to fight, no courtly intrigues to navigate—just the three of you, here in this quiet, sunlit chamber, sharing a simple meal and the kind of love that made all the struggles worth it.

When breakfast was over, Jacaerys took your daughter in his arms, lifting her high into the air as she squealed in delight. “You’re getting too big for this, little one,” he teased, though the smile on his face said that he didn’t mind in the least.

“She’ll never be too big for her father,” you said softly, watching them with a fond smile. “Not as long as you’re around.”

Jacaerys looked over at you, his eyes filled with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. “I’ll always be around,” he promised, his voice low and serious. “For both of you. No matter what.”

You nodded, your chest tight with emotion as you rose from the bed, moving to stand beside him. “And we’ll always be here for you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek as your daughter babbled happily between you.

In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, no matter what trials the future might bring, you would face them together—as a family. And with Jacaerys by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t overcome.

As the morning light filled the room, casting a warm glow over the three of you, you felt a deep sense of peace settle over you. You were home, with the two people you loved most in the world, and nothing else mattered.

“Pretty in pink,” Jacaerys murmured, his eyes drifting to the gown you still wore, and then to your daughter, who was now tugging at his hair with a mischievous grin.

“Hmm,” you agreed with a soft smile, your heart full to bursting as you looked at your little family. “And perfect just the way we are.

The warmth of the morning slowly faded as the day wore on. The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the stone walls of Dragonstone. You and Jacaerys were in the courtyard, watching as Elaena toddled around, her tiny feet pattering against the cobblestones. She wore another pink gown, this one slightly darker, embroidered with tiny golden dragons that glimmered in the fading light.

Elaena had always loved the color pink, a hue that seemed to reflect her joyful spirit and the innocence of her childhood. Her closet was filled with gowns, cloaks, and tiny slippers in various shades of pink, each more luxurious than the last. You often marveled at how your little girl had softened Jacaerys, bringing out a side of him that was fiercely protective yet endlessly tender.

She was playing near one of the serving women, a new addition to the staff who hadn’t yet grown accustomed to the importance of her tiny charge. Elaena’s curiosity had drawn her toward the vibrant flowers that lined the edge of the courtyard, her little fingers reaching out to touch the soft petals.

You watched from a distance, smiling as you saw the wonder in her eyes. But your smile faltered when you heard the sharp, dismissive tone of the handmaiden, who was standing too close to your daughter.

“Go on, girl. You’ll ruin them with your sticky fingers,” the woman snapped, her tone harsher than necessary. There was no kindness in her words, only irritation.

Your heart clenched, and you were about to step forward, but Jacaerys was already moving. His expression had darkened, the playful warmth in his eyes replaced by a cold, steely resolve. The air around him seemed to crackle with a silent fury, a reminder of the dragon blood that flowed through his veins.

The woman, sensing his approach, straightened up, a look of confusion crossing her face as she realized who she had just scolded. Elaena looked up at her father, her lower lip trembling as if she might cry, but Jacaerys was there in an instant, scooping her up into his arms.

“No one speaks to my daughter that way,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. The courtyard grew deathly quiet as his words hung in the air, the tension palpable. “Do you understand?”

The serving woman paled, her eyes wide with fear as she stammered out an apology, her earlier haughtiness gone in an instant. “I-I didn’t realize… my lord, I’m so sorry…”

Jacaerys held her gaze for a moment longer, his grip on Elaena tightening protectively. His voice dropped even lower, laced with a venomous edge. “You’ve made a grave mistake, and I don’t tolerate mistakes when it comes to my daughter.”

The woman’s knees buckled slightly, and she looked as if she might collapse under the weight of his words. “Please, my lord, I meant no harm…”

But Jacaerys was unmoved. He turned his attention to one of the guards stationed nearby, his expression cold and commanding. “Take her to the dungeons. I’ll decide her fate later.”

The handmaiden gasped, her eyes filling with tears as she realized the severity of her situation. She tried to plead with him, her voice trembling with desperation. “My lord, have mercy—”

“Enough,” Jacaerys interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “You showed no mercy to my daughter. Now, you will learn the price of your cruelty.”

The guard stepped forward, grabbing the woman by the arm and dragging her away as she continued to plead for forgiveness. But her words fell on deaf ears. Jacaerys was already turning away, his attention back on Elaena, who had buried her face in his shoulder, her small body trembling slightly.

You followed, your heart pounding in your chest, and when you caught up to him, he was already at the entrance of the keep. “Jace, what are you going to do?” you asked quietly, glancing back at the courtyard where the woman had disappeared from sight, her fate now in his hands.

“She will not remain in my household,” he said simply, his voice cold as he shifted Elaena in his arms. “She’ll be lucky if I don’t have her thrown off the cliffs into the sea.”

The finality of his words sent a shiver down your spine, but you understood the protectiveness that surged within him. “She’s safe now,” you said softly, reaching out to brush a stray tear from Elaena’s cheek. “You’ve taken care of it.”

Jacaerys softened as he looked down at his daughter, who was now snuggling into his chest, her earlier distress forgotten. “I’ll always take care of her,” he murmured, his voice filled with a fierce love. “No one will ever hurt her. Not while I’m around.”

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you wrapped your arms around the two of them, feeling the warmth and strength of your family. Elaena let out a contented sigh, her tiny fingers clutching at Jacaerys’ tunic as she drifted off to sleep.

As the evening shadows lengthened, the three of you remained in that embrace, bound together by a love that was unbreakable, a love that would protect Elaena from any harm that might come her way.

Jacaerys might have been the heir to the throne, but in that moment, he was simply a father—a father who would move mountains, who would face down dragons, to keep his daughter safe. And as you held them close, you knew that no matter what, you will always have strong and unyielding little family.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @thornsandtulips @spn-obession @beebeechaos @malfoycassimalfoy

banner: @cafekitsune

[matchingbatbites]

I've been thinking about this post by @foulwitchknight for like three days nonstop, so thanks for the brain worms.

It's after dark when the knocking starts on the trailer door, the sound frantic enough to make Eddie anxious as he pulls himself up off the couch and goes to answer.

He isn't expecting to find Steve on the other side, but his surprise at seeing his boyfriend is squashed when the scent of distress hits him, acrid and bitter on the back of his tongue.

Eddie barely gets out a "Baby?" before Steve is babbling, clearly distraught about something.

"I didn't know, Eddie, I swear. I didn't have anything to do with this and it's- My dad, he just fucking does this shit without even talking to me about it and-"

"Stevie, sweetheart," Eddie cuts in as he reaches out to grab Steve's biceps, trying to ground him a bit. "What are you talking about, baby? What's going on?"

Steve whines, low and forlorn, and offers something to Eddie. The newspaper is crumpled from the iron grip Steve had on it, but Eddie takes it and smooths it out a bit. He scans the page, trying to figure out what could have Steve so worked up, and then he sees it.

Richard and Catherine Harrington are proud to announce the engagement of their son, Steven, to Jack Wright, son of Donald and Linda Wright.

There's more after it, something about honor and business, but Eddie doesn't care about the details. He just looks up at Steve with a soft "Is this real?"

Steve nods even as he shrinks in on himself and mutters a broken "I didn't know," and Eddie can't help it. He grabs Steve again and pulls him inside, into the tightest hug he can manage while he kicks the door shut behind them.

Somehow he gets them back to his room and on the bed, needing to hide his Omega away in his den, needing to keep him safe.

"I don't want him, Eddie," Steve mutters into his collar, his own grip on the Alpha nearly crushing - but Eddie wouldn't have it any other way. "Want you, just you."

Eddie presses his face into Steve's hair, breathing in his marzipan scent, sweet once again now that the burnt edge to it has faded. "I know, sweetheart. We'll figure something out, I promise."

Nails dig into Eddie's back through his thin t-shirt, and then Steve is pulling back just enough to look Eddie in the face. "Give me your bite."

"Steve-"

"Please, Eddie. We were already planning on it, and- I don't want them to even have a chance to take me away from you. You're my Alpha, and I want to be your mate more than anything in the world. Just- please."

Eddie's heart swells and all he can do is nod before swooping in and kissing Steve, hard and desperate. The Omega responds so beautifully under Eddie's touch, and it takes no time for them to strip off their clothes, no time for them to touch and push and press until Eddie is joined with his beautiful mate-to-be.

He can't help the way he rambles as they move together, a litany of "Gonna bite you, baby. Gonna mate you, pup you, give you anything and everything you want."

Steve whines and squeezes where their hands are laced together in the bedding beside his head, a low mantra of "Please please please," falling from his lips.

They hit their climax together and Eddie sinks his teeth into the meat of Steve's neck, into the mating gland that rests under the skin. He groans at the taste of copper and almond that floods his senses, and barely registers the pinch of a bite on his own neck.

Eddie weeps as the bond snaps into place, and Steve isn't any better, fat tears falling down his face as they lay there and bask in the feeling of completion. Of knowing that they belong to each other, that nothing and no one can ever separate them.

They wake up early the next morning and take their time packing Eddie's things, trying to stall until Wayne arrives home from his shift. The man knows something's up the second he steps into the trailer, and it's a long, tearful goodbye full of promises to call and visit before they're climbing into Eddie's van.

They're on the road when Eddie reaches over to take Steve's hand in his own and squeezes it gently. "Hey. I love you," he says, sparing a glance over at his Omega, his mate, his Stevie.

He gets a gentle smile and a soft "I love you too," in return, and that's really all Eddie needs.

[hisui-dreamer]

love will find a way

Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Azul, Vil

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 3.6k+

Notes: for cohesiveness sake, all the name ideas are in japanese. if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe

Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Yoshikazu (義和) with 義 meaning "righteous" and 和 meaning "harmony, peace"

your son had straight strawberry-red hair and greyish-blue eyes that reminded you of the stormy skies

Riddle's strong belief in upholding the rules, as well as his desire for peace and order, made the name perfect for your boy

he strives for perfection in everything he does, and has a strong attention to detail and dislikes anything that falls short of his high standards

he is slightly shy with strangers, but he's always polite and tries to be helpful

he likes to act mature so you won’t have to worry too much about him, but he not so secretly craves your affection and praise

if you don’t give him a goodnight kiss, he’ll stare at you with puppy eyes thinking he did something wrong

under your guidance, he’s actually rather helpful in the kitchen, although he can easily get upset when he thinks he did a poor job or wasn’t precise enough

in those moments, you often show him that not everything has to be absolutely perfect

see? the strawberry tart still tastes delicious, right?

he’s also rather quick at learning, and when you’re unsure about the magic concepts or formulae in your foggy memory, let him work at it for a bit and somehow, boom, he’s solved it

he tries to hide it, but his eyes are sparkling with admiration when you told him about the dedicated and fair man Riddle is, and he really wants to meet him

and through his hard work, he teleports the two of you into a well-lit and organised office, with stacks of papers placed neatly on the desk

Riddle sits at the desk, his face more angular having lost his baby fat, but his gaze remained as intense as it always had

Riddle meticulously reviews a case file, his focus unwavering as he flips through the pages. Suddenly, a swirl of iridescent light materialises in the corner of the room, catching his attention. He pushes himself away from the desk, knocking his chair backwards with a thud as he stands up, watching in disbelief as you emerge from the ethereal portal, a small boy clinging onto you tightly.

"My Rose…is it...is it truly you?" Riddle's voice wavers with a combination of astonishment and longing. His stormy grey eyes lock onto your gaze, searching for confirmation that this was indeed real.

His heart swells with a surge of emotions, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He takes hesitant steps forward, closing the distance between you. As he reaches out a trembling hand, he hesitates for a fraction of a second before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close.

"I've missed you so much," Riddle whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I've yearned for this moment, to hold you again, to see your face."

after the heartfelt reunion, Riddle leaves work early and takes a holiday, something he has never done before for reasons other than sickness

he takes the two of you back to his house and you spend some time catching up

he’s become a successful lawyer, having deviated from the path his mother had intended for him

that, along with his refusal to be in an arranged marriage by her will, has him basically disowned

but he’s happy with where he is in life, only he wished to find a love as fulfilling as the one he had with you

now that you’re back, Riddle does everything he can to support you in adjusting to life back with him

he’s super expressive and affectionate and savours every moment he has with you

he does get a little jealous of Yoshikazu getting all your affection, and this has resulted in all three of you sleeping together cuddled up

Riddle tries to learn how to cook because he can’t be worse than his son right??

wrong

but the two of them do get along really well, Riddle loves reading bedtime stories to Yoshikazu, and Yoshikazu tries so hard to stay awake till the end

Yoshikazu also loves visiting uncle trey’s bakery!

eventually, he might try to reconcile with his mother and have her meet the two of you, but his priority is on the two of you

Riddle's eyes show a mix of emotions, a kaleidoscope of love, regret, and gratitude. He bends down, his hands trembling, to meet Yoshikazu's gaze. A cascade of emotions surges through him as he realises the precious bond he had unknowingly missed out on.

"My child," Riddle whispers, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "I never imagined..."

Yoshikazu reaches out a tiny hand, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Riddle's heart melts as he gingerly takes his hand, feeling an overwhelming wave of love and protectiveness.

"Father?" Yoshikazu's voice was a gentle whisper, filled with innocence and trust.

Riddle's eyes shimmer with tears that threaten to spill over. He carefully extends his hand, allowing his small fingers to intertwine with his own.

"Yes," Riddle replies, his voice overflowing with tenderness. "I am honoured to be your father. I will protect you, guide you, and cherish you always, my precious bud."

Koushi (功志) with 功 meaning "a success, a great achievement" and 志 meaning "purpose, will, determination, aspiration, ambition"

your son had sleek dark hair that reminded you of the night sky, and bright cyan eyes

Deuce placed great importance on personal growth and the pursuit of success, valuing hard work and the satisfaction that comes from achieving one's goals, so you implemented those values into your son's name

he takes his tasks and activities seriously and is motivated to excel in everything he does

but at the same time, he also struggles with being patient and occasionally becomes frustrated when things don't go his way

there are many times you’re trying to console him, and he’s just standing there, fists clenched and trying to hold back tears

when you rub the back of his head though, he melts and starts crying into your chest

he can be impulsive and mischievous, but once the high passes, he’s apologising and he really didn’t mean to hurt anyone or anything

just like his father, his favourite food is egg dishes, so it’s not difficult cooking for him

generally, he’s not picky and gobbles up anything you make him except vegetables

yeahh, the vegetables are going to need some convincing, and he’ll make a big show about how he hates the taste, but still reluctantly swallows his greens

he’s not the brightest, but he strives to be the best he can be, eagerly practising and studying magic concepts, though he faces some challenges in grasping complex concepts quickly

he became so curious when you told him how much his father valued hard work, asking question after question to learn more about him

and through trial and error, somehow, he managed to teleport you to a street of residential buildings, the fresh scent of roses filling your senses

and Deuce stood in shock in front of you, looking more mature and yet still possessing that dorky lovable presence

Deuce, donned in his crisp uniform, patrols the streets with a focused gaze. As he turns a corner, his eyes widen and his heart skips a beat. There, before him, stands the silhouette of a familiar figure, obscured by the shimmering waves of nostalgia, accompanied by a small boy.

"Prefect… I’m not dreaming, am I?" Deuce murmurs, his voice tinged with disbelief and a touch of vulnerability. His pulse quickens, and he takes a tentative step forward, his hands trembling with both trepidation and longing.

Tears well up in his eyes as you nod, a mixture of emotions playing across your face. The weight of your absence suddenly lifts, and without a second thought, Deuce closes the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace.

"You're here. You're really here," Deuce whispers, his voice choked with emotion. He presses his forehead against yours, savouring the moment and the warmth of your presence.

once Deuce has calmed down, he takes you back to his house, where he lives with his mom to take care of her more

Deuce has become a successful police officer, and he’s decided to work in his hometown to keep the neighbourhood safe for his mom

after a quick introduction to Mrs. Spade, she’s very happy to meet you and her grandson

though she does glare at Deuce for a bit given you had to raise Koushi alone

she immediately starts gushing over Koushi and how similar he is to Deuce when he was a kid

Koushi is a little confused, but you can tell he loves listening to his grandmother and hearing about his father as an infant

Deuce can’t just leave his job whenever he wants to, but he dedicates all of his free time to the two of you

after work, he’ll take Koushi on runs, and sometimes they’ll pick a bouquet of wildflowers from a nearby field to give to you and Mrs. Spade

on weekends, you often go on family outings, like visiting the aquarium, camping, or visiting old friends!

uncle ace is Koushi’s favourite, teaching him magic tricks and telling him all the embarrassing things Deuce did back in NRC

and though Deuce had never prepared himself for parenting, he’s doing his best and making sure the two of you are happy, just like he is with the family all together

Deuce breaks the embrace and drops to one knee, his eyes meeting the Koushi's. A mixture of awe and tenderness dances in his gaze as he extends a hand toward the small boy. "Hey there, little guy. I'm your dad. My name's Deuce. What’s your name?" he asks, his voice gentle.

Koushi steps forward, hesitantly reaching out to grasp Deuce's hand. "Koushi," he answers meekly. A spark of connection passes between them, a shared understanding and an unspoken bond.

Tears stream down his cheeks as he continues, his voice filled with a mix of joy and remorse. "Koushi, I'm sorry it took me so long, to be the father you deserved. But from this moment on, I promise you, I'll be there for every step of your journey. We'll make up for lost time together, yeah?"

Akuru (渥瑠) with 渥 meaning "kindness, moisten" and 瑠 meaning "lapis lazuli"

your daughter had clear aquamarine eyes that reminded you of the sparkling ocean, and silver locks that curled naturally to frame her face

Azul had always adhered to the spirit of benevolence, so the name seemed perfect

she's quite a shy little girl, when she's in front of strangers, she'll ask you to carry her so she can hide her face in your neck

there's no way you can resist when she's staring at you with such bright eyes, her tiny arms reaching up for you to hold her

she's extremely greedy for affection just like Azul was once he let his guard down around you

she has the squishiest cheeks!!!

she also tends to observe and listen rather than being the centre of attention

but when she's alone with you, it's evident she inherited Azul's sharp intellect and has a natural aptitude for academics

you often told her about the brilliant man her father is, how hard he worked so he could become a version of himself he was proud of

the way her eyes sparkled when she heard about him reminded you of Azul's ambitious looks when he's making deals

incredibly talented at magic, she understood everything so quickly and it wasn't too long until you couldn't be much help to her anymore

but worry not, because she has brought the two of you back to your dearest lover by some accident in her experiments

Azul is sitting in a dimly lit office, his dark eye circles are evident, but he looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him

Azul sits at his desk fully engrossed in work, his quill gliding swiftly across the parchment. A sudden gust of magic sweeps through the air, causing Azul to stand in alarm, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. But as the magical energy settles, his hand freezes mid-air, his eyes widening in disbelief as your figure emerges.

His breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "It... can't be... Can it?", he whispers as he manoeuvres himself over to you, his legs trembling as if it was his first time on land.

You reach out to take his hand, your familiar warmth and presence casting away the doubt in him. His eyes well up with tears, and a radiant smile spreads across his face.

"Oh, Angelfish... You're here...", he cries as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

he's so emotional he can't stop crying

it's to the point where his tears are slightly inky

he wishes he was in his merform so he could hug the two of you properly at the same time

it's at this point jade and floyd bust into the room to see the three of you huddled together on the floor

the two of them start teasing Azul for being a crybaby, but you can tell they're genuinely happy for him

Azul, as he had planned back in NRC, had conquered all forms of business, forming an incredibly successful corporation

now that he has the two of you back though, he immediately takes a break from work so he can make up for the time lost

Azul's a bit awkward, and he's so afraid you've found someone new or don't love him anymore

but with time, and plenty of your affection, he's loving and comfortable and completely at ease with you, just like the old days

he uses this break to spend time together with you two as a family, going on family outings, discovering hobbies, etc.

takes the two of you to the coral sea to meet mama ashengrotto

oh she loves you and can't stop spoiling Akuru

he makes a lot of effort to be present in Akuru's life, and he wants nothing more than for her to be happy

and fortunately, Akuru is very comfortable with Azul, though it takes time for her to trust him on the same level as you

but you've got all the time in the world to love and grow with your dear family now

bonus: uncle jade and uncle floyd who always bring out the ambitious side of Akuru!

Azul's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at the small girl peeking from behind your legs, his heart swelling with a love he had never thought possible. Akuru's innocent eyes meet his, mirroring his own shades of blue.

"Hello, Akuru," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe. He crouches down to her level, his eyes locked with hers. "I... I'm your father. It’s nice to meet you."

Akuru's small hand reaches out, hesitantly brushing against his cheek. The touch sends shivers down Azul's spine, his heart bursting with overwhelming emotions. Tears spill freely down his cheeks as his arms wrap around her fragile frame.

"I've missed so much... I'm so sorry," Azul says, his voice laced with remorse. Akuru nestles closer, burying her face in the crook of Azul's neck, as if instinctively seeking solace in the embrace of her father. "Oh, I promise you, my dear, I will make up for lost time. I will protect you, love you, and be the father you deserve."

Misaki (望咲) with 望 meaning "ambition, hope, desire" and 咲 meaning "bloom, blossom, flourish"

your daughter had silky blonde, hair and violet eyes reminded you of the lavender plant Vil kept in his room

you knew through Vil's dedication towards beauty and his strictness that he values hard work and effort, and so you named your daughter hoping she would flourish in whatever ambitions she pursued

like her father, she carries herself with a certain regal air that’s beyond her age

she's incredibly strict with herself, though occasionally you'll have to tell her to relax a bit and be more carefree

she listens to you a lot though, she loves making her mommy proud!

and though she might put up a front and act confident with strangers, when she's alone with you, she's surprisingly docile and affectionate

she is enchanted by the media and drawn to acting, always reenacting scenes from movies or shows you watched with her

she asks for bedtime stories every night, but it’s more of the two of you doing a dramatic reading and playing around with character voices

she also loves to play around with different hairstyles and outfits, and even experimenting with your makeup

though she’s rather displeased with her lacklustre makeup skills, she loves it when you do her makeup for her, making her feel like a star

she’s incredibly smart and fast to pick up on the magical concepts, though she’s slower with practical magic

when you told her about the meticulous and dedicated man her father was, she was fascinated by how confident and strong he sounded

and with diligent practice, it isn’t long before she manages to teleport you to a well-lit room with a modern design

Vil is sitting on the couch studying his latest movie, his hair is in a messy bun and he is wearing glasses and he is the most beautiful person you have ever seen

As Vil stares at the television analysing his performance, the tranquillity of the moment is abruptly shattered by a sudden burst of light. His heart skips a beat as he turns towards the source, his eyes widening in disbelief. There, standing before him, is the person who had occupied his thoughts and dreams for the past years, with a sweet-looking child next to them.

"Is it really you, darling?" His voice trembles with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He takes a hesitant step forward, his polished facade momentarily crumbling as he reaches out to confirm the reality of your presence.

Your eyes meet, and in that instant, a whirlwind of emotions surged through his being, threatening to overwhelm his senses. He swallows hard, trying to compose himself.  "It's... it's been so long," Vil's voice cracks with raw emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I've missed you every day, every moment."

Vil is the most emotional you’ve ever seen him, even when you had bid each other farewell at the mirror, he had been more composed

but here he’s completely vulnerable and crying tears of joy

once he’s calmed down a bit, he immediately calls his manager to reschedule whatever plans he had because of ‘family emergencies’

since you left, vil has been completely invested in his acting career and has landed a few roles as the main character, though some of them were still villainous

he’s super affectionate and relaxed with you, always instinctively reaching out for you to confirm you’re really there

and he’s super cute with Misaki!! Misaki always goes to him for makeup and styling her hair, but she likes going to you for brushing her hair when it’s tangled

mini drama sessions at home where it’s the three of you playing out scenes from a fairytale

vil is the ‘only the best for my princess’ type of father

he’s very careful with outings so the paparazzi or the media won't just sabotage your family dates, he’s determined to spend quality time with his two darlings

takes you to meet papa schoenheit, who adores you for making vil so happy, and absolutely spoils Misaki with clothes and accessories

you’ll have to be the strict parent to make sure she’s not too spoiled

not to mention uncle rook who absolutely worships the ground she walks on and cannot resist her requests

Vil's gaze flickers to the child standing beside you, her innocent eyes mirroring his own. A rush of emotions washes over him, as he finally comprehends the magnitude of the moment. His voice trembles with tenderness as he kneels down, extending a hand towards her. "Is this... our child?" His voice holds a hint of awe and wonder, his heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose.

Misaki's eyes widen, taking a tentative step forward to try and comprehend this newfound connection. "Are you like the daddies in the shows that come back to the family?" she asks, her voice tinged with innocence and wonder.

A brief look of confusion flashes by, before a warm smile graces Vil's lips as he reaches out, gently brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Yes, darling," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and determination. "I am here now, and I promise I'll never leave you. I will be there for you, guide you, and cherish every moment we share, just like the fathers in the shows."

Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[gtgbabie0]

Hello! May i request another cute moment with Cregan Stark and his son? Maybe Cregan was starting to teach his son how to use the sword. Idk if this is a good idea.

-Cregan Stark x Reader

I love this!! thank you for requesting, enjoy my lovelies💕

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Summer in the North was not so different from the winter, save for the slightest change in the air and the fact that the sun made an appearance every now and again. The people also seemed happier too, lighter without the weight of worry that sat heavily upon their shoulders.

This meant that Cregan had more free time, the afternoons now spent with his son, Rickon, out in the training yard. The echos of their laughter filled Winterfell with a warmth, it was infectious.

You stand underneath the stony overhang, watching the pair of them with a content expression. Cregan shows him how to hold the wooden sword, giving him pointers on how to stand correctly and how to swing the sword without hurting himself.

“There we go son, getting the hang of it.” He beams proudly, watching Rickon swing the sword against the hay-filled man before ruffling his brown hair with a chuckle. He was so patient with him, never once rushing him.

The sound of your clapping makes the pair of them turn around, each of them wearing the same love-filled expression and dark messy hair.

“Momma!” Rickon giggles, dropping his sword before rushing over to you with a toothy grin and bright eyes. It still makes your heart leap with joy whenever he calls you ‘momma’ despite the fact he isn’t yours you still love him like he is, he’s practically your other half.

You reach down to brush the snowflakes from his hair, your hand brushing against his rosy cheek as hugs you sideways. “Are you not too cold my sweet?” You ask softly, watching as he shakes his head.

“No… but did you see me, did you? I’ll be using real swords soon!” He exclaims excitedly, jumping up and down in pure joy as Cregan joins the pair of you, resting his hand against the small of your back.

“I did, you’re a natural.” Your words only make his smile brighten, his hands clasping together with a giggle. The sight causes Cregan's heart to melt, tenderness blooming through his chest.

It fills him with adoration, the way you treat his son with such kindness, how you’ve learned all about his interests and the way you read to him nightly. The love he harbours for the pair of you was stronger than the winds of the North.

Rickon rushes off back to the training yard, shouting for you to watch him before picking the wooden sword back up.

“Here… you look cold, my love.” Cregan notes, taking off one of his furs before draping them gently over your shoulders to protect you from the chill that lingers in the air. He takes your hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles in hopes of warming them up.

You look up at him with a warm smile, watching as he guides your hands to his mouth, his lips peppering gentle kisses along your knuckles and the back of your hands. “Thank you, always so attentive.” You whisper, your tone carrying a certain twinge of playfulness.

“Of course, you’re carrying my child now, you deserve only the best.” He says firmly, pressing another kiss against your temple, his hand caressing your back comfortingly.

You hum in acknowledgement, leaning against his sturdy frame as he holds you close to his chest. The pair of you watch Rickon as he swings the wooden sword into the straw man with vigour.

“Do you think he’ll be excited?” You ask, tilting your head to look up at him, his hair half tied up to keep it out of his eyes.

“Oh, he’ll be over the moon.” His words soothe the worry in your heart, suddenly replaced by excitement as he continues with a chuckle, “I can already picture him, as soon as they can walk he’ll be dragging them out here.”

You giggle at the thought of Rickon teaching his younger sibling to sword fight, your hand falling to the slight swell of your stomach. The idea of the Winterfell castle being filled with a litter of mini Starks, their laughter and bickering, it brought a giddiness to the both of you.

Rickon continues to practice for a few more minutes, running towards the straw man with the sword grasped tightly in his hands only to slip, falling against the gravel on his knees, you gasp softly in worry as Cregan goes to walk over to him.

“I’m okay!” He calls out to the pair of you, standing up with a bright smile, brushing off his knees before running back over to you.

“Gods be good.” Your husband sighs, shaking his head with a small twinge of amusement flickering through his eyes. “Let’s get you both inside, hey…”

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[sturniolohouse]

Junie Laughs - dad!matt x reader - blurb

summary: four month old June laughs for the first time.

"Is daddy just so silly, Junie?" I beam at her belly laughs, each one more contagious than the last.

She has never laughed this hard before, it was a real one.

My heart swells as I record the moment, capturing the joy lighting up her face. Matt looks over at me with wide eyes and I cackle in disbelief of how genuine her laugh is.

At just 4 months old, she's giving us her first real laugh, not the little ones we'd try and poke out of her.

"Do you hear her?" He asks in pure shock, his whole face lit up in awe.

I nod quickly and look back to June, who's sticking her fingers in her mouth and looking up at Matt expectantly.

He leans in close again, using his animated, high-pitched voice, "Who's the cutest, most perfect, most amazing little girl…Junie is! You just love smiling big for daddy, my happy girl."

His excitement mirrors hers, and her squeals grow louder as she kicks her tiny feet, her laughter bubbling over once again.

He tickles her belly and smushes multiple kisses into her cheek, completely unbothered by the slobber coating her face. Her eyes squeeze shut in pure delight and when he pulls back, they pop open immediately, searching for him, eager for more.

She coos at him, dribbling a bit but Matt wipes it away with a his sleeve mindlessly. I get a quick glance at her droopy eyes and I know she's fighting sleep. It's getting close to her bedtime, which we had been doing pretty well with establishing a routine.

Right after her bath, before settling her in the crib, we always lay together in our bed. It’s become our little ritual, just the three of us cuddled close until she gets sleepy enough to drift off.

"Matt, you're getting her all worked up and she has to go to bed," I try to reason with him, but I can't help the smile on my face when she looks in my direction with her sparkling blue eyes. I shift to lie on my stomach next to her, propping my head up on my hand while Matt stays in front of her.

He continues to tickle her, pretending to bite her cheek and smothering her with kisses. Her squeals are so intense, I can hear the little gasps she takes in between, and it makes me a little nervous.

“Matt,” I warn softly, but he’s already backing off, laughing as he does.

He gives her a moment to catch her breath, his hands resting lightly on her belly as she hiccups through the last of her giggles, still smiling up at him. But I can tell her energy is fading fast, her little fists clench and unclench while her eyelids flutter, fighting to stay open.

"But she's so happy," Matt says through a smile, tracing his finger lightly over the curve of her cheek. "Tell mommy you want to stay up and hang with us," he teases, talking to her as she rubs her eyes, her full lips forming a slight pout.

She yawns this time, her tiny hands reaching up for Matt’s face, but her movements are slower now, her head lolling to the side for a moment.

I sigh, knowing it's only a matter of minutes before she's fussy and no longer our happy girl.

"Okay, okay, it’s bedtime, kid," Matt relents, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

He lifts her gently off the bed, cradling her close before laying her on his chest and leaning back against the pillows. I join them, resting against the headboard, feeling the calm settle over the room.

June was such a good baby. All the research I did on colic and sleep regressions felt unnecessary in the end. She was the textbook definition of an easy baby.

We got extremely lucky, especially as first-time parents.

The first couple of months of her life, she really just slept most of the time. But now her little personality is starting to set in and every day she's seems to learn something new.

She's been starting to babble more and making tons of sounds now. Her favorite at the moment is "bah-bah," which usually turns into a string of "babababababa" when she's particularly happy. Matt thinks it means she's closer to saying "dada," but I'm pretty sure it's "mama."

Time will tell.

She loves her stuffed black cat that Nick got her when we brought her home. It's sometimes the only thing that will calm her down a rare meltdown. And Chris? He's is her absolute favorite playmate and snuggle buddy. They've formed a sweet routine over these past few weeks. Every morning after her first feeding, they lay together the couch while he slowly wakes up.

It's a little tight with all of us in the house, especially with all of the baby furniture and toys everywhere. But we make it work. It's so much easier than if Matt and I were on our own.

Chris and Nick help us out so much, especially in the mornings so we can catch a break. They usually take over so Matt and I can get showered or run errands.

It truly takes a village to raise a child and we're all learning together.

Junie being so little definitely makes living in such close quarters easier. But we already notice how fast she's growing, and it’s made Matt and I seriously consider getting our own house so everyone can have the space they need. It’s a topic that’s been looming over our heads ever since we brought her home.

As much as we love Nick and Chris around, living under one roof is not realistic long term.

I shake those thoughts away and instead focus back on Junie who's still fighting sleep against Matt's chest, her tiny fingers clenching his shirt.

"Every day I wake up and I can't believe she's real," I say, my voice soft, filled with awe. "I don't even remember life before her,"

Matt smiles warmly, his eyes never leaving June as she starts to drift off. "I know. It's like she's always been part of us."

Her cheek is smushed into his shirt, and her tiny ear rests right over his heart, the steady rhythm lulling her further into sleep.

June always falls asleep easily with any of us, but listening to mine or Matt's heartbeat was a guaranteed way to knock her out.

She melts into him, going limp in his hold as she stares at me through her heavy eyelids. I turn on my side and reach my hand over to trace her soft face. She stops fighting sleep then, succumbing to her tiredness.

Matt gently strokes June's back, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against her tiny frame. Once her grip on Matt's shirt loosens completely, I know she's asleep.

"Aaand, she's out cold," I whisper in victory and Matt peeks down at her, a proud smile spreading across his face.

He leans down, placing a long kiss on the top of her head and pausing to inhale deeply.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand how she smells like actual heaven,” he says softly against her hair.

"I know, right? I don't understand it either. I could sniff her head all day," I agree, inching a little closer.

I keep staring at him, and he catches on, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

His expression shifts, a knowing smile creeping onto his face as he realizes I’m watching him closely.

He raises an eyebrow, playful suspicion in his voice. "What?"

"Nothing," I draw out a bit, my eyes fluttering slowly.

"You were staring pretty hard there," he quips back, his gaze flickering to my lips briefly before meeting my eyes again, a mischievous glint in his own.

"You just look really hot with a baby on you," I tease, a smirk tugging on my lips as I watch his face for a reaction.

Matt raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a grin. "Easy there."

"M'just saying." I shrug innocently, enjoying seeing him squirm a bit.

His gaze drops to June, then back to me, his grin finally winning. "So, what, are you trying to say I should just walk around with a baby on me all the time now?"

"Wouldn't be the worst thing..." I reply with a smirk, leaning a little closer. Matt shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face as he rubs his eyes.

His chest rises and falls with a quiet chuckle, but June remains blissfully asleep against his chest. "You’re ridiculous, kid."

"Dare I say... DILF?" I tease further, raising an eyebrow.

Matt smirks. "Well, if I'm a DILF, then you're definitely a MILF."

"I would sure fucking hope so. I only carried your child for nine months, went through 20 hours of labor and then birthed her. Seems like the least I could get out of it," I say mainly lightheartedly.

Matt chuckles softly, "Don't worry, sweetheart, you've always been a MILF in my eyes," he says with warmth and affection, his hand finding mine and gently bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss.

I snort with a slight chuckle, "Good save."

He winks at me, then looks back down at June, her tiny fingers curled into his shirt. "Seriously though, we made a perfect little human, didn’t we?"

I nod, "Yeah, we really did."

We hear a few gentle knocks at Matt's door, and I softly tell them to come in. The door creaks open slowly, and Chris pops his head in, his usual mischievous grin already on his face. I put a finger over my lips, motioning to June sleeping.

"Aw, is she already out?" he whispers in a sing-song voice, walking over quietly to take a peek at her.

"Yep, just went down." I answer quietly.

He places his hands on his hips and pouts at her, "Sleepy Junie," Chris coos, his expression softening as he watches her sleep.

"Chris, you missed it," I whisper excitedly. "She was losing it before, laughing at Matt. I thought she was going to pass out... I got it all on video."

Chris's eyes widen. "No way! I can't believe I missed it, you gotta send me that shit," he says.

"It was so fucking cute, dude. She'd never laughed like that before," Matt chimes in, shaking his head.

Chris turns his attention back to Matt, rocking back and forth on his feet. I can already tell he’s gearing up to ask for something.

"Dude, you down to play fort for a few? I can't play with Nick again, he's fucking trash." He huffs, taking his hat off to adjust his hair before placing it back on.

Matt glances at me, stifling a laugh before carefully shifting June so she’s cradled more securely against him.

He shakes his head at Chris. "Really, dude? She just fell asleep."

Chris is relentless though, "Bro, come on, just a few rounds," he pleads, eyes darting between Matt and me.

I sigh, turning to Matt and giving him a small smile.

"You can put her in the crib now, she should be okay. Go play for a bit if you want." I nod toward the door, and from the corner of my eye, I catch Chris fist-pumping in silent victory.

Matt is grown and doesn't need my permission for anything, especially playing video games with his brother. But I know he would never go without me giving the green light.

"You sure?" Matt asks, glancing between me and June.

"Yeah, go ahead. I’m going to read for a bit" I reassure him with a smile.

He hesitates for a moment, clearly torn, before he finally relents, nodding. "Alright, I’ll be back in a bit."

As he carefully stands up, cradling June in his arms, I watch Chris bouncing on his heels, clearly excited.

I hear Junie's soft grunts as Matt places her in the crib in the corner of the room. We ended up having to move his desk up to the loft where the old podcast room was.

Matt shushes her gently, pausing for a second and watching her, making sure she's fully settled. He stands up and lets out a breath of relief when she doesn't wake up, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

He turns to me with a small, tired smile, like we've just dodged a tiny grenade.

"That was close," he whispers, shaking his head as he steps back from the crib. "Let me know if you need anything, okay? I'll be back in a couple hours," Matt tells me as Chris waits for him by the door.

I nod. "Oh, Chris?"

"Yeah?" He answers, rubbing his hands together.

"If you wake up June with your screaming, you're the one putting her back to bed." I say with a sweet smile, and I see Matt cover his mouth as he laughs softly.

Chris freezes. his eyes wide before sheepishly nodding. "Noted."